#mcu wip

[hawkeye-hattrick]

Little WIP I’m working on!

Notes:

- This is a first draft

- Tony is alive in this but Peter is forgotten

- I haven’t wrote fanfic in like…3 years before I wrote a couple fic drafts within 2 weeks so I’m a bit rusty

- Constructive criticism is welcome!

[thorst]

WIP Not-Wednesday

I've found myself in a real struggle town lately in terms of writing, so instead, I offer this, my unfinished scratchings in the sand. They are all MCU and set in Earth 202, which is a slice of the multiverse that belongs to my two friends @robb-stark , @chimerrobang and I, which we've been worldbuilding and writing in for like a year and a half. || 2 of 3

Cross posted from pillowfort! I'm Fulminosa there <3

Warnings: foreplay? making out? "you find a statue of your boyfriend and it turns out he's a fertility god and yes that's a very exaggerated appendage the statue has, why is this hot"

❡ What Happens In The Vault (light NSFT)

Carol had closed her eyes when her lover had kissed her, but she knew his would be backlit by the white-blue light of the storm, and she grinned against his lips at the feel of the lightning that trailed his touch in forks and sparks along her back.

“Might be fun to pray and know I'll get an answer.” Thor made a funny little sound in the back of his throat at that, and she opened her eyes to look up at him between kisses.

“I would always answer you,” he rumbled, suddenly and unexpectedly sincere, the depth of emotion in his eyes striking, even if they were still overflowing with lightning.

His hand settled on the back of her head, and Carol nodded. “I know, big guy.” She smiled, and kissed him soft and slow, till they each were breathless with want of the other. “I’ve never prayed to you, though. Unless you count all those times—”

Thor laughed and nipped her lip, moving his hands to support her where she’d floated up against him. “They count,” he grinned, then turned his head to nod at the statue. “You could try it. It would be new to me.”

Carol smiled against Thor’s lips, hooking her legs around his waist the better to bring him as close as possible - though his armour felt increasingly in the way. “Well, then we gotta,” she breathed, grinding her hips against Thor’s hard enough to make them both shiver. Reaching up to weave her fingers through Thor’s hair, the long, smooth locks already starting to frizz with static. She gave his hair a playful little tug and grinned wider when the god of Thunder hissed, his eyes burning brighter for a moment. She wondered how bright they’d be in a moment, whether the two of them would light the whole of the gloomy vault. “How does it work?”

Thor took a moment to collect himself, a little wordless sound escaping from the back of his throat. “Ah,” he began, moving one hand from its place at her hips (he was more than strong enough to hold her one-armed, after all), and reached out for the statue. Touching it, he could feel the magic in it and the magic in him speak to one another; it almost seemed to vibrate in his hand. “You have to read the inscription,” he said, his voice thick with lust. He wondered if Carol would ever have less of an effect on him - he rather thought not.

With a scoffing laugh, Carol ran a finger along the carved runes -which ran, of course, the length of the statue’s exaggerated shaft. “I still can’t read Aesir, buddy.” The stone was cool and smooth under her touch, but she noticed the way Thor’s skin shivered when she did it.

He swallowed thickly, and Carol kissed him; it was hard not to find the way she affected him completely endearing. “It’s Old Norse, not Aesir” Thor replied, his voice tight, “which means I can just—” he kissed her again, and the next time Carol looked at the statue, she found to her surprise that the runes made sense, sorting themselves in her mind to words she knew, though not ones in English.

“Tell me again that you can’t do magic,” she whispered.

“Shame about the weather.” Carol had been miles away, but the barista’s carefree tone snapped her back to earth.

“Sorry, what?” Carol reached for the two coffees the younger woman was offering.

“Shame about the weather,” she repeated with a nod out the coffee shop’s large storefront windows. Carol followed her gaze, to where a torrential downpour was soaking the city streets. Her next words were drowned out by a tremendous crash of thunder that sent yelps through a few of the store’s occupants and a shiver of an entirely different kind down Carol’s spine. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“You gonna drink them both yourself?” The barista - Katie by her name badge - was repeating patiently.

Carol sipped hers of the two drinks - the cappuccino. “Actually I really like it.” It put her in mind of broad shoulders, warm laughter, sparks that jumped and tingled across her skin and-- but that hadn't been the question, this time. She brought the heel of her hand to her forehead after placing her coffee back down, and gave Katie an apologetic wince. “Sorry, I'm a little bit distracted. No, they're not both for me.”

Lightning tore through the skies outside, and this time Katie waited for the thunder to fade before speaking again. Carol's heart was racing. “You’re gonna go out in that?”

Carol beamed at her. “I won't have any trouble out there.” She winked. “This coffee, it's for—”

“Oh shit,” Katie laughed suddenly, then covered her mouth with one hand and leaned in over the counter towards Carol. “You're Carol freaking Danvers? I didn't recognise you without all the…” here she gestured loosely at Carol, who today was wearing a nondescript grey and purple hoodie and a pair of very well broken in Levi's.

“Space armour?” Carol offered helpfully.

“Space armour.” Katie agreed. Suddenly, she seemed to fall shy, stumbling over a few half words before Carol stepped in.

“Of course I'll sign something for you or take a selfie or both. Thanks for the coffee by the way, great stuff.”

It was Katie's turn to beam, and as she quickly fished her phone out from behind the counter, she picked up their conversation. “So you were saying-”

“Oh yeah!” Carol laughed, another thrill running down her spine as the storm outside raged on. “The other coffee is for Thor. And I think this might just be my favourite kind of weather.”

Anyway no thoughts only Thanvers this isn't anywhere close to all that I have, lmao. Why can't I finish a goddamn fic

[noctemusart]

Hi there.

I’ve been doing a few sketches and drawing lately to take my mind off a few things and I thought I’ll give a little tease of one of them. It portrays Tony Stark and a genderbent Justin Hammer (Justine Hammer).

I’m down to the itty bitty details and then I’ll call it finished.

[tarithenurse]

WiP entry

The lovely @inky-duchess​ is celebrating a huge milestone (9000 followers!) by hosting a WiP contest. Brilliant way to do it, honestly. And holy flamingo that’s a lot of followers, well done!!

I’ve decided to join the fun with a relatively new MCU WiP...

Wip Title: Orphan

Genre: It’s a bit of a mix, but uhm...angst? Hurt/comfort? Post-Endgame mess?

Character Intros (MC or POV Characters): Reader (female) grew up without knowing who her dad is and on top of that she lost her mother (the only family left) at the tender age of 12-ish when Loki and the Chitauri attacked New York. She’s intelligent, a bit quiet perhaps, and has managed to get far in life partially thanks to an unknown benefactor but mostly due to her own tenacity. We meet her first just before Thanos’ action in Infinity War.

Themes: Finding a home. Finding a family. Life changes. Crisis. Uncertainty. Figuring out own identity.

A short Excerpt (no more than 500 words): This is taken from the second chapter.

Wiping the face angrily, you stumble through the woods without bothering to skirt around bushes or avoid sliding on the half-rotten branches hidden beneath old leaves. It’s a pure miracle that you can see enough to notice the shining metal swinging at you and stopping an inch before your throat.

“Who are you?” There’s anger in the female voice, anger and pain.

More concerned with what appears to be a fucking sword than the speaker, you focus on standing stock still rather than answer. Wrong move. Slowly but surely, the incredibly sharp looking blade advances, driving you backwards until your back hits the trunk of a tree.

“Who are you?” the angry woman repeats, “Why did you spy?”

“I’m – I didn- it was stupid! Okay?!” Frantic with fear you finally look up only to receive a new shock at the sight of the owner of the voice: blue skin, eyes that looks like the black emptiness of camera lenses but even that’s not the weirdest. It’s the parts that are obviously metal that gets to you. This is a dream, a nightmare. This can’t be real.

Maybe she’s used to people staring and perhaps it annoys her, or she’s hell bend on finding out the truth that she allows the metal edge to rest against your throat for a second before she pulls it away, raising it overhead with a sneer, ready to slice through your faltered excuses and throat. Oh crap. I’m gonna get killed by a Smurf.

“Nebula!” A new arm appears from behind you to grab the woman’s wrist, quickly followed by the owner who looks considerably more normal. “You can’t just go around stabbing people. We’ve been over this…”

The blue woman, who doesn’t seem overly cloud-like despite the name, shifts uneasily like a toddler who has to explain why they were doing something bad. “I was…not gonna stab her…just decapitate her.”

“Please…just le-let me go!”

[incognito-insomniac]

Tagged by @kyberinfinitygems and sort of tagged by @codswalloping. Ty! I'm not working my massive Pitt fic or the cute Dept Q band oneshot but a secret third thing - aka the short Sam/Bucky fic i've been picking at for years. Finally have it somewhere i like and i hope to post it before the end of the year. I don't think i've posted it before so here's a bit of the beginning:

As Bucky lifted another mat against the next pine, Sam asked, "So this morning with Sarah-" "I told you, she wouldn't like us taking that pump apart," Bucky cut him off. The reminder was grating but the cheeky grin he flashed at him was worse. "That's not what I'm talking about," he grumbled as he tugged on the ratchet strap.

Then what?" Bucky cocked his head with an innocent look Sam struggled to believe wasn't practiced and entirely fake. Bucky knew what he was doing and Sam wouldn't have it.

"You know what," he accused. "Don't make me warn you again. I will turn you into fish food."

"Wha-" he started with a baffled look then recognition crossed his face. As Sam tightened the last strap, Bucky stepped back with his hands up, "I wasn't flirting with her!"

"And I'm a real bird of prey. Don't play with me." As he walked over to the next tree he waggled a threatening finger at him. "And especially do not play with my sister."

"I was just being nice, honest."

Now that did sound like bullshit. He had never known the man to go out if his way to be nice to anybody. In fact, Bucky usually went out of his way to avoid everybody. Sam watched him hunch over to heft the next mat up with a skeptical squint.

He caught his glare and let the mat drop back to the ground. "I can be nice," he urged.

tagging @captastra @ronniebox @twosides--samecoin @iloveyoudie @strangefable @roofgeese @eldritchdog and anyone else working on something. share your wips pls! i wanna see them!

[thorst]

WIP not-wednesday

I've found myself in a real struggle town lately in terms of writing, so instead, I offer this, my unfinished scratchings in the sand. They are all MCU and set in Earth 202, which is a slice of the multiverse that belongs to my two friends @robb-stark , @chimerrobang and I, which we've been worldbuilding and writing in for like a year and a half. || 3 of 3

Cross posted from pillowfort! I'm Fulminosa there <3

Warnings: None

❡ Shame About The Weather

“Shame about the weather.” Carol had been miles away, but the barista’s carefree tone snapped her back to earth.

“Sorry, what?” Carol reached for the two coffees the younger woman was offering.

“Shame about the weather,” she repeated with a nod out the coffee shop’s large storefront windows. Carol followed her gaze, to where a torrential downpour was soaking the city streets. Her next words were drowned out by a tremendous crash of thunder that sent yelps through a few of the store’s occupants and a shiver of an entirely different kind down Carol’s spine. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“You gonna drink them both yourself?” The barista - Katie by her name badge - was repeating patiently.

Carol sipped hers of the two drinks - the cappuccino. “Actually I really like it.” It put her in mind of broad shoulders, warm laughter, sparks that jumped and tingled across her skin and-- but that hadn't been the question, this time. She brought the heel of her hand to her forehead after placing her coffee back down, and gave Katie an apologetic wince. “Sorry, I'm a little bit distracted. No, they're not both for me.”

Lightning tore through the skies outside, and this time Katie waited for the thunder to fade before speaking again. Carol's heart was racing. “You’re gonna go out in that?”

Carol beamed at her. “I won't have any trouble out there.” She winked. “This coffee, it's for—”

“Oh shit,” Katie laughed suddenly, then covered her mouth with one hand and leaned in over the counter towards Carol. “You're Carol freaking Danvers? I didn't recognise you without all the…” here she gestured loosely at Carol, who today was wearing a nondescript grey and purple hoodie and a pair of very well broken in Levi's.

“Space armour?” Carol offered helpfully.

“Space armour.” Katie agreed. Suddenly, she seemed to fall shy, stumbling over a few half words before Carol stepped in.

“Of course I'll sign something for you or take a selfie or both. Thanks for the coffee by the way, great stuff.”

It was Katie's turn to beam, and as she quickly fished her phone out from behind the counter, she picked up their conversation. “So you were saying-”

“Oh yeah!” Carol laughed, another thrill running down her spine as the storm outside raged on. “The other coffee is for Thor. And I think this might just be my favourite kind of weather.”

[thorst]

WIP not-wednesday

I've found myself in a real struggle town lately in terms of writing, so instead, I offer this, my unfinished scratchings in the sand. They are all MCU and set in Earth 202, which is a slice of the multiverse that belongs to my two friends @robb-stark , @chimerrobang and I, which we've been worldbuilding and writing in for like a year and a half. 1 of 3

Cross posted from pillowfort! I'm Fulminosa there <3

❡ Stark Parties

“For you, my fine mythological friend,” here, Thor raised the glass to his lips and caught a whiff of a scent absolutely not one of dragon's blood, but he wouldn't expect Stark to understand the customs surrounding the drink and what's more his mind was racing with the question of how— Stark tutted, obviously unwilling to let the drink be imbibed without saying his piece beforehand, and Thor lowered the glass patiently.

“Dragon’s blood,” Stark said with triumph.

“Yes, I know, but how—” Thor cut in at the same moment that Stark began listing ingredients.

“--dry ice, obviously, which isn't exciting at all of course but it's the bioluminescent sea slug cells which- I'm sorry, what?”

Thor's expression was equally puzzled, and Sharon laughed helplessly into Sam's shoulder, who grinned back at them with a shake of his head. “Science and magic,” he muttered, and Carol stirred at Thor's side, raising her drink to clink against his in salute.

Thor, giving up his line of questioning, took a generous gulp from his tumbler and made a quick succession of faces that restored at least some of the pride to Tony's expression.

“Are you telling me,” he said in his most level voice, the one he often used to mask some kind of professional disappointment, “that you have a drink on Asgard called dragon's blood, and that it is in fact, the blood of a dragon?”

It was Carol's turn to giggle helplessly, locking watery eyes with Sharon across the circle.

“And,” Tony went on, “that is close enough to this that you thought from looking at it that I had, what, found a dragon, slew it, and-- and used its blood to make a cocktail?” He was spinning his own drink in its glass so rapidly that it threatened to spill, and so he knocked it back, hard, before remembering that Thor and Carol had borrowed (stolen, it turned out) the mead for the party from Odin himself (again). He placed the glass down carefully, feeling hot and cold and like he could smell eternity and taste poetry, sticking like a film to the back of his tongue.

[goldentheke]

To Kill a Songbird. TheQueenOfWhump. (Words: 41,010 | Status: In Progress)

“He was completely, one-hundred percent screwed.

No one was looking for him. He was in the most secure prison in the world, which was filled to the brim with armed personnel. He was wearing a shock collar.

And if he somehow figured all that out, he still couldn’t swim.

Yep. Screwed.” ——— Peter Parker died six months ago in a fire after a horrible chemical accident.

...or did he?

At least, that’s what Tony believes when an unemployed Ross illegally imprisons the Avengers on the Raft, which was supposed to have been destroyed. ——— AU where the Accords were declared stupid, Ross was fired, Tony and Steve became friends again, and they all live together in Avengers tower.

Peter Parker-Centric. Trigger warning for suicidal themes.