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crimeronan · 1 year

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i've seen a couple people in the notes of this very good post about fictional polyamory by @thebibliosphere say things along the lines of "oh, i've been doing it wrong :(" or "how do i know if i did this right??" or "i should probably give up and start over, i wrote this badly :(" and. no!!!!

(i AM seeing far MORE people say "oh, this clarified and helped me so much, i think i know how to fix issues i've been having with my own story" which. YES!!!!)

listen. if you're a monogamous person who's writing a polyamorous relationship, and you've been focusing mainly on The Triad and All Three Together All The Time as the endgame, that's literally fine. that's a perfectly acceptable and strong starting point for your plotting, imo. you do not need to give up on a story that you've started like this.

but the things discussed in the post Can and Should improve your execution!

you can keep the same plot beats and overall relationship arc 100%. polyamorous relationships are infinite in their formations, every one is unique. "basically a monogamous romance but with three people" Does exist, as a relationship type. you're not hashtag Misrepresenting (TM) poly people with it

BUT i do think it will help to read up on some poly people talking about how their relationships Differ from monogamous ones.

so i have outlined some basic important concepts about polyamory.

MORE IMPORTANTLY though, i've broken down some questions that you can answer throughout the writing process to strengthen your individual dyad relationships, your individual characterization, & your characters' individual feelings/experiences. this is a writing resource have fun

future kitkat butting in to say i spent over two hours writing this and it definitely needs a readmore. it is also NOT comprehensive. but everything should be pretty simple to follow! feel free to reblog if you find it helpful yourself or just want to reward me for how gotdan long this took KSLDKFJKDL.

i've grabbed quick links for a couple of the important concepts, some have SEO pitches in them but the info largely seems to be good. (if i missed anything Egregiously Gross on these sites i should be able to update the links with better ones later, since they're under the readmore.)

sidenote: this is NOT meant to be overwhelming, despite the length. if you can't read all of this, that's Okay. you do not need to give up on your writing.

here we go:

compersion!

compersion is a BIG thing in a lot of polyamorous relationships. it's joy derived from seeing two (or more) of your partners happy together, or joy derived from seeing your partner happy with someone else.

compersion is really important as a concept because it highlights that every individual relationship within a polycule is different -- and that that's a GOOD thing. it's sort of the inverse of jealousy.

by the "inverse of jealousy," i mean that instead of feeling left out and upset and possessive, you feel happy/joyous/content.

i can use personal experience as an example: it's a Relief for me when my partners receive joy/support/sex/romance/etc that i can't (or prefer not to) give them. and i love seeing my partners make each other laugh and be silly together.

it's 100% okay for a poly triad not to be together 100% of the time, it doesn't mean that the third member is being left out or not treated equally when two people do things alone together.

(i have individual dates with my partners all the time! PLUS larger 3-and-4-person date nights.)

if the third member DOES feel jealous or left out, then the polycule can have a conversation to figure out what needs/wants aren't being met, and solve that. this happens semi-regularly in my polycule, as it will happen in any relationship (including monogamous ones)! it's just part of being an adult, sometimes you have to talk about feelings.

metamours!

a metamour is someone who is dating your partner, but ISN'T dating you. this may not be relevant for people writing closed three-person romantic sexual triads, but it's a super helpful term to know.

the linked article also lists different types of metamour relationships with some fun phrasing i hadn't heard before. the tl;dr is: sometimes you'll be domestic cohabitation friends, sometimes you'll be buddies with your own friendship, sometimes you might not interact much outside of parties, every relationship is different.

there's no one-size-fits-all requirement for metamour relationships. sometimes polyamorous people will end up dating their metamour after a while (has happened to me), sometimes polyamorous people will break up with one partner for normal life reasons, but remain friendly metamours.

the goal of polyamory is NOT for EVERYONE to fall in love. it is 100% okay if this happens in your story, it happens in real life too! but it is also 100% okay for characters to be metamours without ever becoming "more than friends."

(sidenote: try to kill any internalized "more than" that you have when it comes to friendship. friends are just as important and special and vital as partners.)

of course there are a million ways for messiness to occur with metamours within a complex polycule, exactly like with close-knit platonic friend groups. however this post is not about that! there's enough "here's how polyamory can go wrong" stuff out there already, so i'm focusing on the positives here :)

open versus closed polyamorous relationships!

i'm struggling to find an online article that reflects my experience without directly contradicting at least SOME stuff. so i'll give a quick rundown

google has a bunch of conflicting definitions of open relationships and whether open relationships are different from polyamory. the general consensus seems to be that an open relationship prioritizes one partnership (often a marriage), but that each partner can have extraneous flings or long-term commitments (most often sexual in nature).

this is not typically how i use the term wrt polyamory. the poly concept is pretty simple. a closed polyamorous relationship is one with boundaries like a monogamous one. there are multiple partners in the polycule, but they are not interested in having anybody new join said polycule.

an open polyamorous relationship tends to be more flexible -- it just means that IF someone in the polycule develops mutual feelings for a new person, it's fine for them to become part of said polycule if they want to! the relationship/person is open to newcomers.

some groups will need to negotiate this all together, others will just go "haha, you kids have fun." just depends on the individuals!

with open AND closed polyamorous relationships, the most important thing is making sure that there's respectful communication and that everyone is on the same page. but there's no one-size-fits-all way to do that.

i wish i could give you guys a prescriptive "You Must Do It This Way" guide, but that's.... basically the opposite of what polyamory is about, HAHA.

feelings for multiple people!

i was gonna tack this on to the previous section but decided it warranted its own lil bit.

a defining feature (....i'm told?) of monogamous relationships is that a monogamous person only has feelings for One individual at a time. they only want a relationship with one individual at a time. or, if they DO have feelings for multiple people simultaneously, they're still only comfortable dating one person at a time & being exclusive with that one person.

this is perfectly fine!

the poly experience is generally different from this. but once again..... polyamorous people all have different individual perspectives on this.

for me, i have never been able to draw hard boxes around romantic vs sexual vs platonic relationships, & i love many people at once. my personal polycule lacks many strict definitions beyond "these are my chosen people, i want to forge a life with them indefinitely, whatever shape that life takes"

some poly people feel explicit romantic or sexual attraction to multiple people at once, some poly people feel almost no romantic or sexual attraction at all. i'd say that MOST poly people feel different things for different partners, which is not a bad thing!

some poly people are even monogamous-leaning -- they have just chosen one romantic partner who is themselves part of a larger polycule. (so this monogamous-leaning person has at least one metamour!)

or alternatively, they might have one romantic partner AND a qpr, or other ways of defining relationships. (this is a factor in my own polycule!)

i made this its own point because if you're writing a straightforward triad, this is unlikely to come up in the story itself -- but it's worth thinking about how your characters develop/handle feelings outside of their partnerships.

like, is this sort of a soulmateship, 'these are the only ones for me' type deal? in which they won't fall in love with anyone else, and can be fairly certain of that?

that's pretty close to typical monogamous standards but you Can make it work. just be thoughtful with it

alternatively, can you see any of these characters falling in love Again after the happily-ever-after? and how would the triad approach it, if so? what would they all need to talk about beforehand, and what feelings would everybody have about the situation?

it's worth considering these questions even if the hypothetical will never feature in your actual canon, because knowing the answers to these questions will help you understand all of the individuals & their relationship(s) MUCH better.

i've been typing this for nearly two hours and there's a lot more i COULD say because... there's just a lot to say. i'll close out with some quick questions that you can ask yourself when developing the dyad dynamics within your triad

first, take a page and create a separate section for each individual dyad. then answer these questions for every pair:

how does each pair act when alone?

how do they act differently alone compared to when they're with their third partner?

are there any elements of this dyad (romantic, sexual, financial, domestic, etc) that these two people DON'T have with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

are there any boundaries or hard limits within this dyad that aren't shared with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

partner 3 goes out of town alone for a few weeks. what are the remaining two doing in their absence?

(doesn't have to be anything special, it's just to get a sense of how the two interact on a day-by-day basis without the third there)

what is something that each partner in the dyad admires about the other -- that they DON'T necessarily see in the third partner?

what problem do These Two Specifically need to solve in the story before their relationship will work?

how is that problem DIFFERENT from the problems being solved within the other two dyads?

doing this for ALL THREE dyads is VITAL imo. that way, you develop complex and nuanced and different relationships that all have unique dynamics.

those questions should be enough to get you started, i hope

then After you've charted the differences in relationships, you can start to jot down similarities in the overarching triad. what does one person admire in Both of their partners? what are activities that all three like to do together? what are boundaries or discussions that all three share?

but the main goal is to figure out how to Differentiate each relationship!

a polycule is only as strong as the individual relationships within it. if two people are struggling with their own relationship, adding a third person won't fix that.

(UNLESS the third person is the catalyst for those two to, like, Actually Communicate And Work Their Shit Out. i just mean that the old adage of "maybe if we just add a third-" works about as well to fix a miserable non-communicative marriage as, uh, "maybe if we have a baby-")

AND FINALLY.

if you're not sure whether your poly romance reads organically to poly people, you can hire a sensitivity reader with poly experience. if you can't afford that, you can read up on polyamorous resources like a glossary of terms & articles actually written by poly people. (and stories written by poly people!)

you can also just.... ask poly people questions, if they're open to it. i like talking about polyamory and my own relationships so you're welcome to send asks if u want, i just can't guarantee i'll answer bc my energy levels fluctuate a lot and i don't always have time.

polyamorous people are in an uphill battle for positive representation right now & so the LAST thing i want to see is authors giving up on their stories bc they're worried about getting things Wrong. well-meaning and positive stories that treat this kind of love as normal, healthy, & aspirational are So So So Needed. even if you guys end up with some funky-feeling details.

seriously, if you're monogamous then you probably don't have a full idea of Just How Nasty a lot of people can get about polyamory. i wish it DIDN'T mean so much for you guys to want to write nice stories about us, but it does mean a lot. and it means a lot that you want to do it WELL.

in conclusion. this is not a prescriptive guide, it's just a way to raise questions. and also, you all are doing FINE.

#thebibliosphere i apologize for tagging u when we don't know each other at all i just want u to get credit for the initial discussion #given that it is so much more thoughtful and clear than anything i'd think to write.#i did NOT mean to spend multiple hours on this but once i started writing i was like #oh god i actually do have like a lot i can tell monogamous people about writing poly people & the poly perspective #anyway. i mention it in the post but people can send me (respectful. obviously) asks if they have questions #i cant promise to answer all of them bc i am bad at this. but if i'm well enough then i'll try #polyamory #non-monogamy #ethical non-monogamy #writing #my writing #writing advice #relationships

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lilacqiqis · 8 months

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"Darling"

naruto, kakashi, obito(non massacre), hinata, itachi(non massacre), sasuke, sai

Scenario: getting casually called darling by their crush

A/N: pls send in Naruto reqs I'm starving to write stuff, also finally decided to give characters specific emojis LMAO last post i made i randomly gave them emojis 😭 Writing this at 3 AM sorry if it's ass -mod Lilac

TW: none, GN!reader

more under the cut

🌱 Naruto isn't used to romantic affection from people, let alone his crush, so his reaction when you call him "darling" is a huge gaping mouth and stuttering as he tries to process what you said

🌱 "W-wait!! Whuh?! Huhhh?!! Whaddja call me?!"

🌱 Whether it's a joke or not he has a dorky smile after as he laughs, the pet name making him feel warm inside. He probably will try and call you a pet name back afterwards, hoping you'll like it just as much as he did.

🌱 Goes to brag to all his friends the next day. "Hey hey! Guess what?! S/O called me DARLING!!" Nobody really cares too much honestly, they think he's overreacting or even lying.

🌾 A stoic man he is, that Kakashi. Not much can get him flustered, besides reading Icha Icha of course.

🌾 He usually can keep his feelings hidden away from his crush, treating you like any of his other friends, but when you call him darling? Lucky that he's wearing a mask because you'd be able to see the huge blush forming on his face.

🌾 He'd try not to react too much, his eye slightly widening and body tensing up when the word hits him. It felt so... Natural? The pet name came off your tongue so nicely that Kakashi can't help but want to hear it more.

🌾 Wouldn't comment on it, but may bring it up in the future to tease you. Perhaps to get back at them he'll also call you a romantic pet name... Nah, he's too nervous to do that, if he was that bold he'd go and just confess already!

🌺 Like Naruto, Obito is flabbergasted. He's liked you for gods who knows how long and you can just casually call him that while he becomes a mess just hugging you?

🌺 His head whips towards you so quickly as he stares at you with wide eyes. How is he supposed to react to this?! Does this mean you like him...? Did you even mean this romantically in the first place? Do you call other people that too?!

🌺 His mind is running and he just kinda... Stares at you in awe. Don't let him down by telling him it was just a joke when he questions you later, he'll be devastated.

🌺 Obito will try and be confident, calling you an affectionate pet name as well but all that comes out is stuttering.

🌺 "Heheh... I think so too, s... S-sweet... Sw-sweethEART OKIMGOINGTOGONOWBYES/O"

🌻 Goes absolutely red. Hinata already gets embarrassed by little gestures so something like getting called darling is sure to make her pass out!

🌻 Did you really mean that? She hopes so! That small name made her day, and she won't ever forget about it<3

🌻 Of course, she's still too shy to admit her feelings to you. If that was your way of confessing you'd be dumb to not see that she obviously likes you too... You'd probably be dumb to not notice her behavior before, after all Hinata isn't very good at hiding her feelings towards you.

🌻 She wouldn't realize it's a confession of your attraction if that was your motive, so please be more blunt with her.

🌙 If you think he wouldn't remember, he will. Itachi is a romantic individual, though not as much before a relationship. He takes note of everything S/O says, and will try to hint towards his feelings through small actions and words.

🌙 Absolutely loves it. Itachi will think about the pet name, wondering if you'd mind if he called you that as well. Maybe you'd get embarrassed that you're getting a taste of your own medicine? It's not the humiliation part Itachi would enjoy, but he'd love to see your flustered face.

🌙 Doesn't make a huge fuss when you call him darling, probably doesn't even say anything about it, but has a small smile while thinking about it.

🌙 Will begin to also call you pet names!! It depends on how close you are, but if you two are good friends he'll return your affection. You two probably end up having a lot of romantic tension while everybody suffers watching wondering if one of you two will finally confess or not...

🪻 Sasuke loves hates it. Do NOT call him that cheesy warm and gooey shit, he will scoff at you then turn his head away. jk he just has an ego to protect

🪻 Hates how it makes him feel. That disgusting ticklish feeling he gets in his stomach and the heat in his face makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so stop that. This is just as bad as a genjutsu and he doesn't like it one bit!

🪻 In reality though, Sasuke adores being called darling. He's just... Really bad at dealing with affection you know? He doesn't know how to react and the feeling of love is so foreign to him, so his only way of reacting is acting like he hates it in hopes of ridding his feelings. (Spoiler alert:it doesn't help one bit.)

🪻 You can catch him with a soft blush and tiny smirk on his face if you can catch a glance before he turns his head. Quit being such a loser and just accept it, Sasuke!

🪶 This was mentioned in his book, so Sai should act accordingly, right? He'll begin to also call you pet names, and he probably already did before you due to the fact he read a book saying he should...

🪶 Doesn't quite understand the meaning behind the sweet names but he's trying his best

🪶 It makes him happy though, being able to connect with you... Someone he enjoys being around so much, someone who he feels he has a "special" bond with.

🪶It creeps into your twos friendship, and before you know it you two are acting like a married couple with all your affectionate behavior.

#mod.lilac.writes #naruto x reader #kakashi x reader #obito x reader #hinata x reader #hinata hyuga x reader #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #sai x reader #naruto headcanons

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myfictionaldreams · 10 months

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~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥

you're mine (smut, angst, dark)

Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?

i need more (fluff, smut)

You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.

ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)

He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters

steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)

It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.

When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)

It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?

one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.

repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?

how many?(fluff, smut)

Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.

i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

no touching (fluff, smut, angst)

You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.

i don’t care (fluff, smut)

'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.

overwhelming (fluff)

It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

the fun game (fluff, smut)

Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?

harder, please (fluff, smut, angst)

Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?

protect and forget (fluff, smut, angst)

Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

All Eyes On You (smut)

“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers

you belong to me (fluff, smut, angst)

These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?

dont fall asleep (fluff, smut, angst)

It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

rule number one. (fluff, smut, angst)

It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2) (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

our little bean (fluff, angst)

You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant? Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).

the limit (fluff, smut, angst)

Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

sick day (fluff)

Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.

accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst)

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

everyone is breakable (fluff, smut, angst)

Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

winter soup (fluff, smut, angst)

There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

something new (smut)

The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?

pegging - kinktober (smut)

Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

cockwarming - kinktober (smut)

You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.

double penetration in one hole - kinktober (smut)

You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.

fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)

You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.

role reversal - kinktober (smut)

For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Duke, Duchess and Knights (fluff, angst)

You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)

It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

Drabbles

The first to give their jacket when reader is cold

Mad & Sad moments

Saying the wrong thing

TikTok trend: no kissing

Who is more protective?

safe space in your new home

Halloween Costumes

#mafia!stucky #mafia stucky #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #mafia au #mafia!stucky masterlist #mine*#mafia stucky masterlist #steve rogers masterlist #bucky barnes masterlist

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cybernaght · 1 year

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The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain

As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.

This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.

Part one. Fanon.

The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe.

Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”.

(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)

Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours.

And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.

(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)

We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we?

Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals.

Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.

(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)

The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.

Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation.

So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.

I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth.

Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space.

Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality.

Part two. Microanalysis

Here are my two suppositions on the matter:

1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling.

Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season.

Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal.

2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.

And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal.

Too much metaphor?

Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.

Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.

If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works.

If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time.

As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever.

So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.

Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding.

But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.

One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs.

Part three. The Conspiracy Brain.

If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.

So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?

One, Because We Have Been Lied To.

All conspiracies start with distrust.

If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another.

We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership.

And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.

(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)

Two, Cognitive Dissonance.

The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.

Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:

A) this is not good

B) this author could not have made a mistake

C) this must be done on purpose

D) here is why

(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)

This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another.

Three, Intentionality

I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.

However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed.

The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.

It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media.

When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.

If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.

(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)

And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic.

But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking.

Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way.

Four, Wildfire.

Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness.

Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here.

So where are we now?

I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all.

All I am saying is… listen.

Do you hear that echo?

I do.

#fandom thoughts #fanon #good omens #good omens 2 #bbc sherlock #merlin bbc #think piece #it's been years and I still have no idea how to tag #conspiracy theories #fandom content #all fandoms

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pieroulette · 2 months

Text

yandere simulator; xo (only if you say yes). yjw

interactive roleplaying game: where instead of a yandere winning over your heart, you win theirs. by getting them to say 'yes', only then you will unlock the key to their heart where psychotic love resides.

currently playing. . . xo (only if you say yes)

warning: yandere, slight profanity, some grammar errors (i'm doing my best to study it >_<)

runtime: 3k.

director's cut, — jungwon boo u never fail to prove me that you're legit my muse in writing </3 this is just a fun fun interactive yandere game i randomly thought of, whatever you choose (majority of the votes) decides what happens to you with yandere jungwon :3

character visual: jw

"i'm sorry, but no. you're just not my type—"

you slammed yourself your face on your pillow, burying it so tight it sent you to heaven itself. however you'd rather die this way than pressing the 'continue' button to read the yandere's next words for his darling—which is you.

but you're not even his darling yet, much less being his close friend. maybe just a friend from school?

yeah, definitely.

well, as a twenty-nine years old office lady with her average monotonous schedule with the same routine over and over again for the past eight years, nearing her thirties yet never being able to find a qualified partner that fits her overly high standards—you're left with a game titled 'xo (only if you say yes) you've found somehow on the devil's hours; a game that was immensely difficult to pass, where you would do your best to win over a yandere's heart.

the game's description was too daring, almost too challenging, you are afraid to admit.

"wanna have your sweet affectionate yandere fawning all over you? no worries! however, as the old sayings goes; without efforts, you may never achieve anything—nothing is free in this world. therefore, why don't you sweat a little, get upset a little, cry a little, break a little—like your beloved yandere would once they fall for you? do your very best to get them to say yes to your love confession just once, and all of them—they will give to you.

blood, sweat, and tears; all of them shall be yours as long as you can make them say yes."

and now you found yourself on the final level spending atleast, or disappointingly a huge sum of bucks on the game with currency of gems just to speed up the process, with your eyes bearing a newfound dark eyebags as an extra package of consequences.

you swore by your life and on god himself that you're only playing this for fun out of pure boredom and insomnia, however as you thumb through the game's introduction of yandere as it's dominant themes paired with a comprehensive summary of them; you questioned yourself with sheer shock as to why you've never find an ounce of existence about yanderes for the past eighteen years of your life despite being chronically online.

since yanderes are the exact definition of your overly high standards for men, ever since. no wonder you've never found a men like this before, turns out they only exists in fiction—you scoffed at yourself, filled with disbelief as you roll your eyes.

but! who cares if they don't exist in real life? they're now on the tips of your finger, waiting earnestly and eagerly for your love. a giggle so obnoxious escapes your lips, you feel like you are once a schoolgirl again, but without the experiences of one, actually.

but again who cares!

the game flashes a new pop-up, telling you the next step—choose your yandere character to play with. it shows you a list of seven yanderes illustrated on their respective cards, clad in coquettish-sort-of highschool uniforms; pink ties, beige vest over a dark blue shirt and pants paired with their set of flirty gestures as your thumb glided through each character—reading their descriptions; interests & dislikes, hobbies & talents, a little trivia about them, and of course—their strengths and weaknesses.

surprisingly, they had a range of informations so complete it felt like they were real humans. the developers did quite a spectacular job on it, don't they? and even the fact of how their weaknesses remains the same although with differences in how they would act on it or how far they would go; obsession, possession, and damn psychotic—willing to kill for you.

how romantic. . . in a psychotic way, of course. you hummed unconsciously, letting out a sigh after at the disappointing fact of how you still find it strangely attractive in your late twenties.

are you really that of a single pringle? pfft!

as you giddily spend your time trying to choose one of all characters. they're just all too good, looking too good for your heart to take. but one particular character catches your eye, intrigues you even with those pair of eyes—goosebumps ran down your spine as you could feel him gazing back at you.

like at you, literally.

or was it just the game's tactic to make the players like you fall deeper? hm, probably! it definitely was, unless a random ghost must've possessed your phone but that can't be right?

right?! you yelled the same word out loud, snapping your head around your room—looking for any potential jumpscares, but to your relief—thank god. now you can play your little new obsession in peace!

snapping your head back at your phone, eyes lit up in immense stars as you've made up your mind, heart thumping loudly as you scanned his unique features—tapping the "play with me?" soft pink button below the name 'yang jungwon' aka the mischievous leader kitty of the group.

in yandere academy, this group is called enhypen—and they have a bunch of fangirls, and it's not even a 'bunch', the size of their fandom is almost half of the female population in the academy and even outside of its territories—there is this ridiculously long line of female students from other academies. a feat that cannot be totally underestimated, and it's not even surprising as they are packed with dazzling visuals, and a set of numerous talents of their own.

they catch hearts everywhere, left and right, back and forth with their grand entrance to the school. each of them has their own separate fandoms too, and yang jungwon's taekwondo club practices are always filled with hearty eyes paired nerve-wracking screams that his coach spends half an hour yeeting them out.

"huh?" you let that out a tad bit too loud, almost exaggerated even. the game surely didn't turn out the way you thought, as you had the initial assumption that the yandere you chose already fell for you, and that you just had to spend those lovey-dovey levels roleplaying with them with a one or a few more predetermined routes to choose from.

the rules was pretty simple; try to get his heart—make him fall for you in the set duration of thirty days. in other words, there are ninety-nine percent possibility that he might reject your confession out of pure lack of interest. get that three row of bars; friendship, love, and yandereness as high as you can because if you were unable to do so then there will be no second chances of playing the yandere of your choice without paying an excessive sum of bucks, so you just had to do it once and make sure to do it right.

quite a challenging mission, huh? no it really is challenging but you were determined as your nostrils flared out a puff of air, straightening your posture as

the adorable motion logo of the game plays out, loading in a bunch of texts meant to help you along the way;

'yandere has each of their own unique love languages, pay attention!'

'little misfortunes are often a blessing in disguise, sometimes redirecting you away from what we call a 'disaster.'

'completing side tasks will increase your yandere's love bar by two percent!'

it soon pops up a bunch of pinky hearts and sparkling stars after all those introductions and guides before switching to a scene of him, jungwon—standing before you, and as expected, you were instructed to approach him.

the location in his taekwondo club, all while sandwiched in between his die-hard fangirls with those screams that you had to turn down your volume to zero. talk about in starting a cool first impression—well never mind, two choices popped up on your screen.

choice one: wait for him after his taekwondo practices (20% of working out)

choice two: act like a damsel in distress (5% of working out)

"uh," your thumb hovered over the two choices, is this a trap? act like a damsel in distress—what in the actual fuck? who would even do that in 2024?! you begrudgingly tapped on the first choice, and the scene switches to a pop up message:

try again, jungwon left a couple minutes earlier for a dinner with jay!

[ retry? ] [ exit? ]

your eyebrow twitches, what the fuck? just like that . . .? there's even barely a progress and you just have to fucking retry?

and jokes on you as your jaw dropped on the floor with the new set of choices presented before you, four choices—actually.

"what is this?!" you yelled so loud you immediately covered your mouth, peeking outside the window.

day three.

the love bar ain't going the fuck up, it's still there glaring at your face with it's zero percent. well that's fine, atleast the friendship bar goes up a tad bit—by five percent. a progress is still a progress!

but the game is just so greedy! you can't skip a day? sure then! but you only had three gems a day, one is to play the major mission, second to power up your aesthetics, skills, and status. third, to complete your side tasks such as running errands for your home or completing school assignments!

that even takes a whole day to refill back up, and it's not even enough with these thirty days you got and with this slow ass rate of getting jungwon to fall for you! you threw your phone on the bed, huffing like a madman—contemplating whether to spend a few bucks on it or just drop the game altogether. surely, you can't be that too attached with a yandere character, right?

right?!

jokes on you, your fingers find itself on the payment method against your will. ultimately cashing out a few bucks from your bank account with a single tear trailing down from your eye, all of this would be complete waste of money and effort if you fail to reign over his heart.

you let out an almost animalistic growl—filled with downright spite, actually. is this game even for real?! the choices they gave you are almost like deliberately setting you up for failure, definitely is! you were almost sure that is—to the point of contacting the developers themselves but you held yourself in sheer strength of self-control at last-minute, at the last digit of contacting them.

"it's okay, pampering myself isn't a sin." you pat yourself on the back, comforting yourself with a huge pout reaching the floor. it's okay! with a newfound determination, you're sure you'll make it!

day ten.

hopeless! utterly hopeless even the god of romance and cupid's themselves would laugh at you. you would, too. due to the fact that you went as far as googling on how to 'win over a man's heart" or "list of dialogues and actions that makes a man gain interest in you".

one of them even says food, that it is the way to a man's heart. but how the heck are you even going to feed a fictional game character? it would be easier if there was a food dialogue!

right, when is your character—or the game itself deciding to send a heart shaped box of chocolates? that would atleast give you a few percent to his love bar!

throwing yourself at your bed like a ragdoll, groaning and kicking your feet in the air. why do you even bother? for what? your search history is so hopelessly embarrassing, and even more embarrassing was when your co-worker had their eyes ogling at it. your mistake for letting your phone screen lit up for everyone to see, thank god she was the only one. patting you on the back that it was okay, and that she too had her fair share of struggles on fictional men.

truly a fellow comrade, you almost shed a tear.

day seventeen.

is this damn game trying to get on your nerves?

deciding to show a new bunch of rules that they didn't bother to show at the first day—set of rules you mustn't do while proceeding with the act of winning a yandere's heart, that is—you were not to skip a single day of playing—in other words, not spending a time with your yandere as in the game's words itself; they will be lonely and might end up throwing tantrums—loathing you for doing so, ignoring you for a short period or even longer depending on how long you were gone, thus risking the amount of effort you've spent so far down the drain.

and you actually skipped not one but two days because of your hectic work piling up after a fellow coworker's taking a sick leave for a week. . . and that was also after finally getting his love bar up to two percent and friendship bar reaching whopping sixteen percent.

yeah, it's sadly a 'whopping' one for you.

and now it's back at zero, with his friendship bar down to crashing down to nine digit and just as exactly the rules stated; every choice, dialogues, and routes you picked ended up him ignoring you with that furrowed eyebrows and slight pout on his lips, or responding to you in a flat out cold tone.

he's not even in love with you, so what are you even throwing a tantrum for?! you screamed that question at the animated game character on your phone's screen.

day twenty-four.

nah, this won't do. it definitely won't so why are you still trying? you bit your lower lip as you look for cheats, hacks, and tutorials online, praying to atleast find some miracle that could miraculously rocket you to ninety percent of love bar atleast!

since all you have left is six days.

you've spent an embarrassing amount of hours and days on this shit, even more dedicated and focused than you do back in your days as a student. you were so sure by this point that you could actually become a relationship therapist with all these accumulated knowledge!

day thirty.

eyebrows and lips twitching, it is.

level thirty, it is—ending on quite a horrible note, or actually, a total doomsday glaring back at you with all your nonexistent experience combined into a recipe with the title "never been in a relationship before".

a helpless laughter escapes your throat, of course—how can you catch a yandere's heart? much less make him your lover? you've never even caught a human's interest over the past twenty years of your life!

how cruel, how utterly cruel! god truly has it's ways of playing jokes. tears, laughter, giggles, sweat, money and effort—all gone down the drain.

all because of that one sentence ending it all, each word literally jumping out from his animated lips in a bold ass pink letters,

"i'm sorry but i can't accept it. i only see you as a friend, (name). i hope you could understand. . i'm sorry, but no—you're just not my type."

huh?! seriously?! a compelling urge, or a really tremendous one so colossal you can break your table into two parts—all that set of routes you've chosen so far with a careful decision and thoughts just for him to say this? just for the love bar to be at total ten percent?

jungwon, how could you? only ten percent? there's no hint of romantic affections found in his eyes or gestures, his friendship bar only by forty percent (a low score of only being his 'school' friend), heck you didn't even trigger his yandereness. like look at him! his yandere bar is at zero looming percent!

a trace of the pink love bar and red yandere bar nowhere to be seen, this is a pure scam! a love scam in the form of a game! meant to target single old ladies like you, fucking hell!

out of pure rage and disappointment, you slammed your phone on the bed—burying your face on your pillows as you let out a long drawn out, muffled scream. downright mad at yourself for even being so triggered by this whole shit, and at the fact of you acting like teenage girl imbued with hormonal changes,

"can't even get a fictional men to fall for me, i'm totally screwed for life!—"

you're so going to uninstall that shitty game, there's no point in playing anyways when you can't have the same character of your choice.

a notification 'tings' up, interrupting your bursts of tantrums—you look over at your phone with the game still up, a big pink heart-shaped bubble pops up on the screen—slowly draining into a pathetic colour of white, ultimately shredding it apart into a broken heart, mocking at your misery.

however the next message pulls outs a gasp from your throat, appearing in its usual glossy pink heart but a little redder at the bottom.

💌 2:09AM

hey there, our precious darling!

we totally get how you feel, there's no need to fret anymore! here we present to you an exclusive package where you will be given a final chance to retry for jungwon! this is a one in a lifetime chance for you—our dear player!

tempting almost, yet you're definitely not falling for that anymore.

and it's all free, let yourself fall deeper and deeper into this world of obsession. you can't really give up that quickly, right?

yanderes never knows when to give up, anyways ♡

free? there's nothing free in this world, even the game itself stated the same words. you've wasted your time, money, and effort on this dumb game and now it's giving a package that is exclusive only for you?

what dirty trick is this game trying to pull off once again?

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #jungwon x reader #yandere enhypen #yang jungwon #yang jungwon x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen oneshots #enhypen jungwon #jungwon

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reiding-writing · 7 months

Note

i LOVE your angsts

you can write something about the reader and spencer being apart after a conflict, being childish and sarcastic towards each other afterwards, and then, one of the cases ends in an explosion and, or, fire in which one of the two is trapped and alone, and the other takes risks to save him

who knows, maybe one of the two in the hospital is still delirious and asking to marry the other? anyway, you choose

basically two idiots in love and proud who can't bear the thought of losing each other

thanks 🥺🫶🏻

commitment [ s.r ]

You love Spencer Reid more than anything in the world, but committing to someone for life was not something to be considered lightly. A life or death situation might speed up the decision process a little.

spencer reid x gn!reader || angst || 4.0k ll masterlist!!

WARNINGS: commitment issues, fire, major character injury, miscommunication, happy ending

a/n: happy 29th of february? is that something to be celebrated? anyway, kinda took this one on a rollercoaster ride, enjoy :)

Spencer Reid wanted a family.

He wanted to get married, have 2.5 kids and live in a house with two cars and a white picket fence.

But he didn’t just want that with anybody, he wanted that with you.

You weren’t sure.

You loved Spencer with your whole heart, you really did, but after your parents’ failed marriage and your negative experiences with romantic relationships in the past, the fact that you’d even been in a committed relationship with Spencer for the last four years was an achievement in itself.

You’d talked about it a few times, but you’d always come to opposite decisions. Spencer wanted to settle down with you, and you were afraid to do so.

Your most recent conversation on the subject ended less as a conversation and more as an argument.

“So you don’t really love me then?” You could see the betrayal in his eyes at you again shutting down the idea, his tone carrying more upsetness than accusation.

“No Spencer of course I love you what are you talking about?” You can feel yourself nearing tears at his question. He was quite literally the person you loved most in the world, and to have him shut down your feelings because you didn’t see eye to eye with him broke your heart.

You spent the next few days staying with Garcia.

You tried to not let your disagreement with Spencer influence your work, but the fact that you wouldn’t so much as spare a glance at each other during office hours tipped off the rest of the team about your situation immediately.

“So,” Morgan leaned his hip against the counter of the kitchenette as you fixed yourself a cup of coffee, neglecting Spencer’s mug on the shelf instead of making both cups at once like you’d usually do.

“So?” You raise an eyebrow at his incomplete sentence.

“What’s going on between you and pretty boy?”

You sigh before he even finishes the question. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,”

“Your lover’s quarrel is ruining the vibes, it is most definitely something for me to worry about,” You roll your eyes at his response. Trust Morgan to find the most unserious way to express his concern for the two of you.

Logically you knew it was because he wanted to tread lightly, but that didn’t make it any less eye-roll inducing.

“So,” He leans forwards a little. “What’s going on? Did you disagree on whether Star Trek or Star Wars was better or something?”

You give him a deadpan stare and he immediately surrenders, raising up his hands as he concedes.

“What else do you have to argue about? You guys are like the most boring couple I know,” Morgan shrugs nonchalantly, and you halt the stirring of your teaspoon in your drink.

Boring? You weren’t boring. Were you? Did Spencer think you were boring? Did he think your relationship was boring? Maybe he only wanted to tie the knot in the hope that it would ‘reignite the spark’ or whatever people said.

“Hey.” Morgan snapped his fingers in front of your face, effectively pulling you out of your internal spiral.

“Hm?”

“I asked if it was serious, Garcia told me you’ve been staying with her the last few days,”

Curse Garcia and Morgan’s no filter relationship.

“Everything’s fine, we both just need time to cool off,”

“You’re sure?”

You have to consciously suppress a sigh at his continued questioning. Morgan was great, but god did he push.

“Yes Morgan, everything’s fine,” You spoke with enough conviction that you managed to convince him of your truth, although whether you believed it yourself was another question.

“Good, because if you two ever broke up I’m pretty sure the whole team would fall apart,” His tone tells you his joking, as does his expression as he leaves you to your coffee, but your brain isn’t as kind as to just let the comment fly over your head, and you’re sent into another spiral as you make your way back over to your desk.

Do the whole team really think of your relationship with Spencer as a vital part of its inner workings? What if it really didn’t work out? What would happen then?

Would the whole team fall into chaos?

You didn’t want to break off your relationship with Spencer. But what if it did happen?

Your thoughts leak into your body language, your shoulders tense as you sit down and your eyes not quite focused on the papers on your desk.

It didn’t help that Spencer sat directly opposite you either. It was like the world was trying to rub your conflict in your face every time you saw his hair in your peripheral vision.

You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your head, but you knew he wouldn’t say anything. It was one of the faults in his character, and yours you suppose, because even if he did ask you what was wrong you’d probably blow him off anyway.

The tension between the two of you was enough for Emily and Morgan to share a glance across the bullpen to each other, although they didn’t have enough time to corner you into asking what was actually going on as Hotch called the team into the conference room.

The silent feud between the two of you continued into the meeting, sitting on opposite ends of the table like you were two negative magnets being forced away from each other by an insurmountable pressure.

It was a little silly you think, to be so removed from each other after a single argument, but when Spencer put his foot down about something, he held his ground under any circumstance.

And so the two of you were destined to lie in a stalemate, sat seething in silent frustration with each other until one of you eventually caved under the pressure.

It wasn’t going to happen.

It was another fault of the two of you. You were both too damn stubborn for your own good, and it was beginning to affect your ability to work together.

You were supposed to be two sides of the same coin. Two gears intertwined and seamlessly rolling off of each other in perfect unison. Instead, you couldn’t even decide on the importance of a half-burned diary found at the scene of the last scene you’d arrived at, the fourth building set ablaze in Fallon in the last five days.

“This guy is clearly dealing with marital struggles, that could be our trigger,”

Of course he had marital struggles, because you couldn’t escape your own issues even when you were two-thousand miles across the country.

“We don’t even know if that diary belongs to our unsub,” You sigh exasperatedly as you slump back in your chair.

“It was a grocery store. Who brings a diary to a grocery store unless it’s something extremely important to them? It has to belong to our unsub.”

“Spencer-”

“You know that I’m more likely to be right about this,”

You can’t help but scoff at his statement, discarding your coffee mug on the round table and causing small brown droplets to coat the surface of the wood from the force. “You’re really pulling the intelligence card? Seriously?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Spencer shrugs his shoulders with a furrowed expression. “My intelligence is what got me here and it’s telling me that this diary belongs to our unsub,”

“And my experience is telling me that you’re fixating on this goddamn diary instead of looking for things that could be actually useful to finding this guy because you want to feel sorry for yourself by living through his struggles.” You gesture exasperatedly to the book in his hands, becoming increasingly frustrated with Spencer’s attitude towards you.

He might be smart, but you had almost half a decade on him in terms of experience. He had zero right to speak to you like that mid-feud or not.

“You’re angry at me, I get it. Don’t let it cloud your judgement.” You push yourself up from the table with a scowl, leaving your chair pushed out as you exit the station with the door slamming shut behind you.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” Morgan furrows his eyebrows as you approach the house, clearly run-down and looking as though no-one had lived in it in several years.

“I’m sure,” Spencer gave a determined nod as he un-holstered his gun, following the team into the house to sweep it for the suspect.

Despite your argument about the importance of the diary, Spencer had continues to fixate on it completely, leading to a partial name that Garcia had managed to identify and ultimately the house you were now running into.

You feel under-appreciated sometimes. Hotch always ended up going with Spencer’s choices, experience didn’t matter. It was like he had a tattoo across his forehead that read ‘I’m always right’ and everyone else took it as law.

But you’re not going to disobey direct orders, even if you did want to throw all of Spencer’s favourite books into a filled bathtub and watch him mourn over the ruined pages.

“Clear!”

You sweep the house room by room, you, Hotch, and Emily in charge of the ground floor whilst Morgan and Spencer went upstairs.

It was a complete ghost house. There was no electricity, no running water, smashed windows and moulded wallpaper, the furniture looked decades old and above all it just smelled horrific, a mix of leaking waste pipes and faulty gas lines. Were you seriously supposed to believe someone was living here?

“All clear up here,” Morgan emerged at the top of the stairwell with a shrug. “We got nothing,”

“Of course we don’t,” You mutter the words to yourself with a roll of your eyes, silently confirming your own victory at the obvious lack of human presence in the house Spencer was so sure belonged to the unsub.

“Alright, regroup outside,” Hotch called up to the two, gaining a nod from Morgan as he went to retrieve Spencer and bring him down as you exited the building.

“Nothing?” JJ tilted her head slightly as the three of you emerged, met with Emily shaking her head with a slightly awkward expression as she met your gaze.

“Nope, gross, but nothing,”

“Gross is right, it smelled like shit in there-” You clear your throat into your elbow like you’d managed to infest your lungs from the smell.

“Where’s Spence and Morgan?” You shrug your shoulders at JJ’s question heading back to the SUV to grab a bottle of water.

“Knowing Reid he’ll be over-analysing something,” Emily chuckles slightly, patting JJ on the shoulder as she follows you past her. “Morgan’ll get bored soon enough,”

“Are we going or what?” You call out from where you’re leaning against the car, water bottle being waved around in your hand as you gesture your impatience.

“Morgan and Reid are-” Emily stops as she spots Morgan walking out of the front door. “—Reid is still inside,”

“Of course he is,” You grumble to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

“He’s refusing to leave until he’s found something,” Morgan shrugs as he reaches Hotch’s side. “He’s adamant that there’s something to be found in there,”

“God seriously?” You groan out your words as you rejoin the group. “It’s an abandoned shit hole, there’s nothing to be found—”

A loud crash from the house interrupts your complaint.

Loud crashes are never good.

Neither is the bright orange flicker of light you can see through the front door. Definitely not when you’re working an arson case and Spencer Reid is still inside the house.

It’s like all the hours of you pondering how best to make Spencer suffer for his actions completely disappear as soon as the flames are in sight.

You couldn’t be angry at Spencer if he was dead.

The way the wooden beams of the door frame collapsed under the heat really cemented that thought in your mind.

“Spencer—”

Your attempt at running inside is promptly stopped by an outstretched arm that collides against your waist, winding you slightly and causing your expression to turn from fear to anger at the person who’d interrupted your attempt to vacate Spencer from the building.

“What are you doing?!” You push Morgan’s arm away from you harshly as you attempt to bypass him, but you don’t even get two steps forward before his arm is again blocking you from running into the burning building. “Get off me!”

“You can’t just run into a fire-” You continue to struggle against Morgan’s grip as he pleads his case to you, causing his voice to strain from the exertion of trying to keep you in one place.

“Morgan if you don’t let me go right now I swear to god-” Morgan withstands your threats with his strength, and you’re becoming increasingly resentful at just how much effort he’d gone through to stay physically fit.

“The fire department are on their way-” JJ’s voice is soaked in concern as she speaks, both hands clenched tightly around her phone as she stares into the open door of the house and the yellow-orange light that is quickly enveloping anything visible inside it. “They’re four minutes out,”

“Four minutes isn’t fast enough-”

“Hey-” Morgan continues to struggle against your writhing, planting both of his hands firmly against your shoulders and shaking them slightly in attempt to get your attention. “He’s going to be fine.” The uncertainty in his gaze tells you the opposite.

By the time you hear the sirens of fire engines rounding the street-corner, you don’t have the mental energy to feel relieved. All you can do is stare into the raging inferno that encapsulates the entire ground floor of the house and pray desperately that it didn’t manage to climb up the stairs. You know you’re being too optimistic.

You barely compute the obvious when a stretcher is prepared in front of the entrance, only coming to when you hear a worried gasp emanate from Emily at your side as Spencer is laid down on it after being recovered from the house’s master bedroom, very clearly unconscious and less clearly still breathing.

“Breathing is shallow, pulse is weak, we need to get him on oxygen,” The EMTs converse between themselves as they rush the stretcher into the fire ambulance, leaving you and your team to stand idly on the sidelines as both the fire and Spencer are taken care of by the firefighters on the scene.

You pace the waiting room on your heels, the sharp contact of your feet on the marbled floor leaving small shock waves to shoot up your legs as you walk. You couldn’t just sit down, you weren’t going to relax in a chair whilst the love of your life was possibly dying of asphyxiation. You were worried, terrified, and you had to release that nervous energy somehow.

If Spencer was here right now you’re sure he’d reprimand you for your nervous habit, rattling on about how heel-striking is dangerous for the health of your legs as it compresses your entire weight into a single point that can have bad impacts on your bones. Thinking about it just makes you feel worse, making you pace more and ultimately creating a self-fulfilling cycle where the more you thought about what he’d say the worse your actions would get.

At least you were actually in the hospital waiting and not back in the station waiting for a call. God knows you’d be more of a burden to the rest of the team than a help right now.

“Visitors for… Spencer Reid?” The nurse checks the clipboard in her hands as she speaks, and the second you hear the first syllable of his name you’re diverting your pacing to walk straight up to the nurse’s side.

“He’s awake but dreary, and he’s refusing any medication to help with the pain in his esophagus,” The nurse explains his conditions to you as she leads you down the hallway, shrugging her shoulders slightly at the mention of his refusal of pain medication.

“He can’t take narcotics, do you have any substitutes? NSAIDs?”

The nurse nods slightly at your explanation, checking her clipboard once more as she stops you at a wooden door. “I’ll have a look and see what I can find,”

“Thank you,” You give her a small nod and a smile as she leaves you at the door, suddenly even more nervous than you were in the waiting room. Not only was Spencer now in recovery for smoke inhalation and minor burns, the last ‘conversation’ the two of you had was an argument. A stupid, petty argument because you were both stubborn assholes who couldn’t agree to disagree on anything.

What if he didn’t want to see you? You were probably the last person he wanted at his bedside right now after everything that’d happened. Maybe you shouldn’t go in and see him.

Your hand is already opening the door. Okay, well, too late to second guess things now.

“Hey Spencer…” Your voice is barely a whisper as you enter the room, door shutting seamlessly behind you as you walk towards his hospital bed, fingers ringing together as a work around to release all of the nervous tension in your body without bursting into tears. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I ate a campfire-”

His words are enough to break the small tension between you, and you laugh softly in a mix of relief and worry. At least he was alright enough to be able to speak properly. The burn on his arm looked pretty bad though.

“You look like you ate a campfire,” You approach his hospital bed slowly, taking a seat on the plastic chair at his side and gazing over him with an entirely pitiful look in your eyes.

“I’m okay…” It was like he could read your mind, then again your sure that most people would be able to see how distraught you were right now, but Spencer was always the first to notice, and he languishly reached his hand out to rest against your knee.

You started crying the minute his fingers made contact with your slacks.

“I’m so sorry-” It felt a little silly to be crying in front of someone who’d just been trapped in a burning building and was probably experiencing an insane amount of pain from the lack of medication, but emotions don’t always follow logical boundaries. “I’ve been so- horrible to you and you didn’t deserve it at all-”

You’re sure you look like an absolute mess by now, tears staining your cheeks from your crying, a blotchy complexion from your stress, wrinkled clothes and ruined hair from constantly messing with them to try and find a release for all of your anxiety, but the way Spencer looks at you would have you assuming you’d stepped right off a runway.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,”

“But-”

“Nothing.” Spencer shakes his head to the best of his ability as he shuts down your rebuttal, and he shifts his hand upwards to lie over your two hands clasped in your lap. “I shouldn’t have tried to pressure you into something that you’re not ready for, that was my fault, and for that I’m the one who needs to be saying sorry,”

“No I get it-”

“I made you uncomfortable and upset and that was never my intention,” Spencer continues to cut off your attempts to speak, something he’d usually rather die than do to you - or anyone for that matter - but deemed a necessity to stop you from lumping all of the blame on yourself when you had done nothing more than establish a boundary. A boundary that Spencer didn’t respect.

“I love you, and I want to spend every waking hour I have in your presence, I want to sleep with you in my arms and wake with you by my side. I want to experience every up and down with you and keep you safe and loved at every instance,” Spencer gives your hand a small squeeze as he looks at you, your reflection in his eyes one of pure beauty and perfection. “I didn’t do that for you in our last disagreement, and I can only hope that you’ll forgive me and allow me to make up for that moving forward,”

Spencer’s fingers ghost over the back of your hand, pressing small circles into the dips between your fingers and gently massaging your skin. “I want to do nothing more than love you, and a piece of paper and a pair of rings won’t change that either way.”

You swear that you melt with every word that leaves the boy’s mouth, and if he wasn’t currently hospital bound you’d smother his face in kisses until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

In respect for his condition you turn you affections to his hand instead, holding it up to your face and pressing deft kisses against the curve of each of his knuckles, silent tears still sliding down your cheeks. Tears of a different trajectory this time, filled no longer with guilt and frustration and instead replaced with the realisation of just how much you mean to Spencer Reid.

“I love you so much,” Your lips brush the back of his hand as you speak, his fingers dampening with the lingering moisture of your tears as you hold his hand like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth. “So much.”

The smile that breaks out on Spencer’s face could cure any ailment in your mind within seconds. “I love you too,”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #asks 🫶

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1-800-c3dr1c · 8 months

Note

hiii, i have a request if they're openn

for luke castellan, a smut. he finds reader riding his pillow and mayne punish her? and he's a mean!dom

LUKE CASTELLAN SMUT ONESHOT.

submissive! reader. dominant! luke castellan. mean! luke castellan. female reader. reader is shorter than luke. established relationship (boyfriend and girlfriend). pillow humping/riding. unprotected sex. overstimulation. (lmk if i forgot anything)! ANOTHER WARNING, NSFW IS AHEAD.

requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in my tag list for whenever i post anything related to luke castellan under this post or in my inbox, as well!

i hope you like this, anon!! (and anyone else reading ofc), let me know what you think! <3 this is also my first time writing for luke, so hopefully i do him some justice!

taglist : @ayoitsmarie33 @junos-web

while luke castellan was busy playing capture the flag and most likely winning, you were busy with something else. quiet whimpers left your parted lips as you struggled to keep yourself quiet, sitting on your boyfriend’s bed and grinding against his pillow for at least a bit of friction. you wanted something else in its entirety, but for now, you’d have to settle for this. your shorts discarded and your panties pushed to the side, your cunt leaking and begging for anything, especially from the boy you loved.

it was a shame that he wasn’t here, and you were strongly feeling the affect of his absence. covering your mouth with one hand, you used the other to support yourself.

“be quiet, dove.” that oh-so familiar voice startled you, your head snapping around as you instantly paused in your movements.

luke castellan, shed of the armor you’d seen him in just before the start of the capture the flag game, stood just a few feet behind you. his arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“luke-” you started, in a futile attempt to explain what was going on without getting yourself in trouble.

“i know,” he leaned forward, tracing your jaw with a hand. “needed some release, hm? when the fuck will you learn?” his eyes darkened after the last sentence, a tint of anger laced in his tone. “my cock is the only thing that can make you cum. what the fuck do i have to do to make you understand that?” he spat in your face, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head with one of his hands. “nasty girl.” he drawled.

“wait, no, ‘m sorry!” you gasped, falling back onto his bed with a squeak.

“you’re sorry? sorry doesn’t fucking cut it. you should know that by now. you’re fucking pathetic.”

his words sent shivers down your spine, and you closed your eyes tightly.

“what the fuck have i said about not looking at me?” he instantly questioned, scoffing at you.

“t- to never close my eyes,” you whispered back, hesitantly letting your eyes flutter open.

he loomed above you, a cocky smirk on his face. “i think you should be punished.”

“wh- what?” you stammered, eyes widening.

“you fuckin’ heard me. how ‘bout i fuck you ‘til you’re dumb and all you can think about is my cock? bet that’s all you could think about when gettin’ off on this stupid pillow. the pillow doesn’t know your body, i do. so what the fuck made you think a fucking pillow could get you off?” he laughed in your face.

“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry!” you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together for friction. gods, he was being so cruel.

“you should be sorry. fuckin’ say it like you mean it.” he hissed out.

“i do!! i do mean it!” you whined.

“no you don’t.” is all he said before he leaned forward, kissing you so feverishly that any reply you may have had on your tongue was instantly melted away, just by how hot and desperate the kiss was.

you’d barely even realized—half-conscious just by his kisses alone—that he’d already taken off his pants, and was in the process of removing his boxers. when you did, your breath hitched.

“please..” you begged, wanting so desperately to tangle your fingers in his hair. however, due to your hands being restrained, you couldn’t.

“only good girls get what they want. you’re far from a good girl, dove.” he responded lowly.

“i’ll be a good girl, promise!” you were nearly blabbering, and he hadn’t even touched you.

“yeah, y’will?” it was almost as if you could feel the way he didn’t believe you. this was nothing new, after all. you claimed you’d be good, if only for tonight. and then you went back to being a fucking brat. despite that, you were his fucking brat. only his.

you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. he nearly smiled, finding your tears so, so pretty. “gonna cry, dove? go ahead. cry all you want. next thing, y’know, you’ll only be crying out my name and how you want me to stop fucking you,” he whispered, mouth now by your ear. “but we both know you’d be lying to the both of us.”

you swallowed, watching his expression. “nuh-uh..” you mumbled, wanting to look away. but you knew the rules. keep your eyes on him the entire time.

“yuh-uh,” he shot back, grinning at you. not a nice grin, no—one that told you that you were about to be fucked. literally, and figuratively speaking.

with his hot and bothered cock free from the confines of his boxers, he didn’t hesitate. lining himself up with your sopping cunt, not even needing to prep you due to how much slick was running out of your pussy and down your thighs, it was enough to make sure any pain you might have felt would be washed away almost instantly. he slid in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“fuck.. luke!” you cried, already shaking. you were overstimulated due to the fact of you trying to get off on his pillow, and he knew as such. did he care? absolutely not. that only made him want to fuck into you so much more, to the point where you’d try to claw at his back and beg him to stop.

“shh,” he cooed, laughing in your face. “you can take it, you stupid girl. you’re just a hole for me to fill, yeah?” there was a glint in his eyes, something that told you he’d be far from done. you were practically gushing around his cock like a bitch in heat (his words, not your own) and he adored it.

“mhm!!” you nodded frantically, whining as you blabbered incoherently about how much you needed this. which was true, you had desperately needed this.

“fuuucckk,” he groaned, his thrusts speeding up. you gasped, trembling already. “mine. all fuckin’ mine. you know that, huh? don’t ever try to get pleasure from something that isn’t my cock, that isn’t my fingers, that isn’t my mouth. that’s all you’ll ever be pleasured by- fuck- and we both know it.” he leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss to keep you quiet, your tongues in a battle for dominance—one you were obviously going to lose—and tangling with each other like this was your purpose.

“gonna cum, gonna-” you sobbed, gulping in large portions of air as you panted.

“c’mon, dove. be a good girl..” he grunted, “let me hear you.” he added, and you swore you could feel him. all of him, filling you to the absolute brim.

and fuck, did it feel so good. so much so, you clenched around his cock immediately, milking him for all he was worth as you came with a half-concealed scream, cut off by the way he shoved his fingers into your mouth to keep anyone from hearing you. your sounds were for his ears only, after all.

he stilled inside of you for a second, eyes half-lidded. your chest was rising and falling quickly, your cheeks tear-stained and puffy. “no more..” you choked out, knowing that he hadn’t cum yet himself.

“aw, i can’t do that. i haven’t cum, dove. you can take it all, right?”

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #luke x reader #luke castellan x reader smut #luke castellan smut #luke castellan #luke pjo

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generalsmemories · 10 months

Text

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail imagines #star rail x you #honkai star rail angst #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan angst

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leahkentwriter · 25 days

Text

Backstories for girls and women in stories that *don't* involve sexual assault.

I beta read a lot, and am involved in writing communities of various kinds, and I briefly taught English way back in the day, and I consume storytelling media in general - and one of my biggest pet peeves is sexual assault backstories. While I think this is improving, it's still annoying to me that a lot of writers (of all genders, but particularly men) fall back on a sexual assault backstory whenever they need to make a girl or woman in a story complicated or haunted or fucked up in some way.

Unless your story is dealing with the topic of sexual assault in some way, please don't use it as a way to give a character depth or angst.

Here are some prompts, just to get you started with some ideas.

Why would a woman be trying to escape her past? Why would she be seeking a fresh start?

She hated her small town; the people there didn't understand her and she never felt like she fit in - she's queer, she has a weird birthmark, she's got unique interests, she has magical powers, etc.

She's a criminal - she robbed banks or stole cars and she wanted a fresh start

She was an addict and hurt people, and she wants a fresh start now that she's sober

Her parent is a criminal or an addict and she's trying to outrun the stigma of being related to them

She didn't get along with a stepparent and skipped town as soon as she turned 18

She had big dreams of being something else, and left to pursue them

Her childhood home was haunted, but no one believed her

She got married young then divorced, and wants to start over somewhere that no one knows her

Heartbreak of any variety - she's leaving a place that reminds her too much of someone she lost or couldn't have

She wants better; maybe more money, or a career, or simply a higher quality of life

Some other violent tragedy occurred - a school shooting, an explosion at the plant, police brutality, her best friend was killed, etc.

Her hometown no longer exists (climate change, the main factory shut down, it was overrun by rabid squirrels, etc.)

What would make a woman distrustful of others?

Heartbreak; being lied to, cheated on, left for her best friend, etc.

A big betrayal - her former best friend told everyone a secret about her, someone weaponized her trauma or her past or a major flaw she's sensitive about, etc.

She witnessed a traumatizing event as a child

Her mother was a grifter and used her as part of her scams

One parent cheated on the other and broke up the family

Her older brother isn't dead after all, he was disowned for being gay and now she's questioning everything her parents ever told her

She has problems with her memory, and is never quite sure what the truth is

She's bad at reading people and has been taken advantage of

She finds out a dark secret about someone she loves and is having trouble processing it

She gradually comes to see that someone she idealized as a child is not at all what they seem

Someone she thought was a good, kind, and genuine person is arrested for a terrible crime

Spiritual abuse - the worldview she was taught was right turns out to be exploitative, represses women, etc., so she leaves

What would cause a woman to have mental health issues?

Any form of abuse - doesn't have to be sexual

Her parents had really high expectations that she couldn't live up to

It simply runs in the family

Survivor's guilt - she survived something that someone else did not

She was bullied and no one protected her

Her parents were very controlling and destroyed her confidence

Her sibling was the golden child and she was the scapegoat

She's had issues since childhood but her parents refused to admit there was anything wrong with her, so she didn't get help

Being a part of any oppressed group of people who experience discrimination - she's a person of color, she's an immigrant, she's got a disability, she's queer, etc.

Any major trauma, either witnessed or being a part of - weather events and natural disasters, infrastructure collapse, crashes and accidents, fires, a shooting or a murder, etc.

You're a writer - get creative. There are lots of ways to traumatize and haunt a girl/woman character without having to resort to a sexual assault backstory. You can even make her the problem! Maybe she's the one who did something bad and is trying to outrun the guilt.

Let's also let go of the idea that it's meeting and falling in love with a man that saves her from her trauma. Let her have a healing arc that doesn't involve a man - a love story can still be there, but it can't be the magic healing balm that fixes her. Make her have to save herself. Give her autonomy to both make her own mistakes, and improve her own situation. Don't let your man go into savior mode - let him get frustrated with her. Let her push him away without him clinging to her in a desperate bid to show her what unconditional love is. Don't let him be a martyr to her trauma.

Women are complicated for many reasons. We have trauma for many reasons. We have mental health issues for many reasons. We may want to escape our past for many reasons. We're angsty and weird for many reasons.

Please pick literally anything other than sexual assault.

#writing #writing prompts #writing women #writing girls #how to write women #how to write backstories #backstories #writing advice #how to write #writing tips #writing characters #writing help

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xiao-come-home · 2 years

Text

How Genshin men wake up with you;

and spend their morning with you.

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Xiao, Itto, Ayato, Kazuha, Dainsleif, Alhaitham.

✰ Words: ~3,5k.

✰ SFW ; gn!reader, no mentions of pronouns. fluff.

Warnings: a lot of physical touch and kisses, reader is implied to have hair, ayato is a bit sus, kazu deserves the world, alhaitham makes kavehs life a bit difficult by choice. msg me to add more.

A/N: this is a sequel to How Genshin men sleep with you post, with two new characters added cuz it was fun to write :') a lot of alhaitham's morning routine is assumed because usually, id try to base it off canon, so yeah ;3;

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Kamisato Ayato:

as the Yashiro commissioner, he has to wake up pretty early. but... there's only one problem - Ayato hates it with passion. poor Thoma used to shake him awake every 15 minutes, at least three times. ayato would just swat his hands away, press his face into the pillow and sigh loudly, promising Thoma to get up in a few minutes. (he didn't)

now that you're living with your boyfriend, you share the same bed. which means a few things - he clings to you the entire night, your limbs are tangled together in the morning, and now you're the one in charge of getting him out of bed (Thoma almost cried in happiness). he annoyingly turns off the screaming alarm and snuggles back into you.

he has a habit of, quite literally - squishing his cheek against yours as he lies next to you. he also likes to nuzzle into your neck and grip you like a monkey that found the last banana in its vicinity. he hums at you and lies down with his eyes closed if you ask him questions or say anything. you can tell by the tone he hums with whether he agrees on something or not, but generally, that keeps him enough busy not to fall asleep again.

i can't stress this enough, he's ALL over you. if he's in his "cheek-against-cheek" mode, he literally cradles your other one with his palm. if his face is in your neck and you lie on your back, his fingers are intertwined with yours. the more awake he is, the more kisses are being placed by his lips.

he definitely requests breakfast in bed. at this point he's cuddled enough, so now he wants to feed you. literally. he picks up the food skillfully with his favorite chopsticks and carefully brings it to your mouth, "open up my love," he speaks in his usual, soft-spoken tone, but it's clear his morning voice is still there. "that's it, you're so good for me. is it good? would you like some more?" hmm..

just so you know: he wants you to feed him too and will pout and threaten (playfully) to go back to sleep if you don't. since he likes to sleep more, there aren't many activities you share in the morning; as a result, he cherishes the morning snuggle and sharing your first meal together a lot. Ayato is always curious to hear about your upcoming plans for the day - but he won't say no to lighthearted conversations either. he just really wants to hear your voice.

Arataki Itto:

listen. he either sleeps until 6am or 1pm. there's no in-between, sometimes he stays up all night or falls asleep on your lap on the couch as soon as he comes back home. no, he won't move.

it's hard to say whether he's a morning person - but probably not; he whines a lot into your hair when he has to wake up early and hasn't rested enough, babbling how dark it is outside and that you're too warm to let go of.

speaking of, he holds onto you in the mornings like his life depends on it - you have to work? no, no, no - just stay for a while longer, while he smushes your face right into his... um, prominent chest. you feel the warmth of his bare skin, his chin on top of your head, his large hands drawing invisible patterns of stars, clouds, or hearts under your pajama t-shirt; he sneaks a few kisses on your hair, humming in contentment when he feels you hug him back with your arm over his own hip.

he's totally willing to make you a nice meal before work though, and wake up earlier in the process. most of the time it ends up in absolute disaster and him taking twice as much time to clean it up. but... if you decide to make breakfast together, itto can actually cook up a nice meal (with "a little of your help"). while the preparations are done and the meal is almost ready to be served, the oni hugs you from behind and sways a little from side to side, nuzzling into your neck drowsily and trying not to drool on you.

generally, he's very touchy after waking up (as you can probably guess by now), so he wants to accompany you everywhere before you have to leave. he'll cuddle you before leaving the sheets, link your pinkies when you wait for the water to boil, go showering together, have his hand on your thigh if you do your makeup, attempt to help you with your makeup which might end up in very interesting results, and trying to mischievously steal some kisses just as you're about to leave.

Itto's hands cup your cheeks gently and he flashes you a boyish smirk; he leans in and connects your lips, purring as some of his unruly hair falls onto your shoulders. he always claims he "just wants to give his little sunshine a good luck kiss for the day," but in reality, he just wants to feel you real good before you depart for today. also, he really likes flavored lip glosses, and you keep buying them, so it's not his fault for giving in to your "devilish temptations"

Kaeya:

the bed is an absolute mess. the pillows are everywhere, his part of the duvet is barely covering him from the stomach down, and probably, he has one of his arms on your face.

it takes a while for him to fully wake up; once he opens his eyes just barely enough to see, he scans the room to make sure you're near him - and then he either gets up or decides to snuggle up to you, kiss your temple and go back to sleep for a bit more.

if it's a work day, he uses all his willpower (read: 30 alarms) to wake up earlier and just admire you. he likes to big spoon you and have his arm over your hip, gently grazing your hand with the pads of his fingers; Kaeya just can't get enough of the smell of your shampoo, of your warmth, of your presence.

before properly getting out of bed, he hovers above your sleeping form - it gives him butterflies to see you so peaceful; therefore, he always bends down and places a few butterfly kisses on your cheek with his pretty lashes. he chuckles lightly when he sees you stir in your sleep because of the interaction, so he gives your cheek a proper kiss and (unwillingly) leaves the warm bed.

just so you know - he WILL attempt to get in your pants if he has a day off. Kaeya's hands start to wander automatically as he kisses you awake (or at least attempts to), and if he feels like a little shiet enough - he might place his cold feet on your legs to help you wake up and have some fun! :)

you might need reinforcements if he doesn't wanna get up in winter when it's cold. Kaeya clings to the duvet like he's about to meet the grim reaper himself.

Diluc:

he has a routine that he strictly follows - but at the same time, he's an expert at being quiet and letting you sleep. he takes his time getting dressed up though - he can't help but cheat a bit and watch you snore.

even if it's his day off, he still wakes up earlier than you. but there's a catch - he then leaves your shared bed for a moment to greet his maids and order them to make you a mix of your and his favorites for breakfast. he doesn't want to wake you up, but he really wants to talk with you again - so he might do that with that precious scent of freshly prepared food..

an absolute sucker for playing with your hair in the morning. he runs his fingers through your hair in the gentlest way possible, shifting closer to you and pressing a sweet, warm kiss on your forehead that he lets to linger for a bit longer.

likewise, when you play with his hair to wake HIM up - he might just feel his heart explode and shed a few happy tears. he's never believed there will be a day he meets an angel like you, even more so that graces him with such affection, sincere affection that makes your eyes sparkle.

Diluc leaves you his t-shirt he sleeps in just before going to Angel's Share - it smells like his body wash with a little bit of his natural scent. He usually takes it off in the middle of the night anyway, finding himself to feel a bit too hot for his liking.

Either way, you love cuddling with it. He's not there physically, but it's a reminder that he made it safely and spent the remaining hours of the night next to you.

Zhongli:

he also has his own routine! he wakes up as soon as the sun begins to rise, quietly walking to the kitchen and carefully making a cup of tea for himself. he drinks his tea slowly, shuddering at the taste; his taste buds overflown with the right combination of spices. he finishes his drink just in the right time - it's time to wake you up now.

Zhongli sits on the bed and brushes some of your hair behind your ear; he kisses your forehead and begins to mumble good morning to you. He smiles at you and caresses your cheek with his thumb when he sees you trying to convince him to get just 5 more minutes.

while you finally get up and groggily change your clothes, he goes to prepare your favorite drink, be it tea, coffee, or anything else. he likes to put some mild spices in it to make your usual drink feel a bit more special and surprising. if you can't handle spices, that's fine! instead, he can give you a small snack :)

he really, really wants to brush your hair and vice versa. it's probably one of his favorite morning activities. he's trying his best not to pull your hair and if he does, he places an apologetic kiss on the crown of your hair. he'd be even happier if you let him style your hair, going to the garden or a flower shop nearby and decorating it with small flowers.

but... if you persuade him to get back to bed, he'll oblige. though, in return, you can't fall back asleep - he keeps you awake by asking you if you had any dreams or nightmares, to tell him about them, or what you'd like to eat.

he asks you to do his makeup! Zhongli's perfectly able to do it himself, but he loves seeing how focused you are on the given task, the corners of his lips going up when he hears you curse under your breath, trying to suppress his laugh.

Xiao:

a morning bird (ha!) just like Zhongli, but he has no routine... unless killing demons counts as one. considering this, he usually isn't around when you wake up :( (not that he sleeps anyway.. 90% of the time.)

however, all it takes to make him appear is to call his name - Xiao never misses it and always prioritizes you first. he might roll his eyes if you call him "just" to lie in bed with you. but it's fine - he "berates" you (not really) while almost spooning you.

there are some rare mornings shared together with Xiao, though; he says he has to watch you to keep you safe and hopes that you won't question the excuse any further, but you know it's something else. After all, his hands covering the rosy cheeks seem to give everything away.

in reality, Xiao's cold heart gets well-deserved warmth whenever he sees you sleep. of course he still wants to protect you, but realizing how much trust you have in him to fall asleep without second thoughts is more than anything he could ever want. he smiles, eyebrows knitting together ever so slightly when he pecks your face all over; his kisses are quick and chaste. even though you can't really feel this now, you know his lips leave a tingling sensation.

he lets you sleep a bit longer on his bare hand and doesn't care if it falls asleep. he's so mesmerized by your faith in him that he just does not care. even as simple as it sounds.

when the tiredness gets the best of him, the next morning you find him breathing steadily next to you. you don't wake him up though, probably because as soon as you'd do that, he's gone off to fight the evil. give him a blanket and prepare a plate of almond tofu - the disbelief on his face quickly turns into adoration, accepting the meal and savoring every bite. after he's done, he kisses your knuckles and whispers "I love you" against your skin.

Kaedehara Kazuha:

yet another person who wakes up extremely early. he opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to get used to the light; his crimson orbs scan the environment, and his face lights up when there's no danger around. he stretches his arms to shake off the remains of sleepiness and presses a good morning kiss on your shoulder.

he later decides to hunt or fish for fresh meat - depends on what you like more, but he'd be overjoyed if you let him do his signature dish! he doesn't go far, just enough to still keep an eye on you. don't worry - he's also prepared if you don't eat meat at all! he's more than happy to learn recipes to accommodate and just to simply make you smile more.

he starts a small fire nearby your sleeping form, the distance is enough to make you feel warm, but not enough to possibly hurt you. the crackling of fire wakes you up, along with the delicious smell of Kazuha's cooking. when he notices you slowly awakening, his mouth curves into a smile; he shifts next to you and kisses your nose.

he's trying to fight the grin creeping on his face every time you enjoy his food. really, that's why he does that every time you're traveling together. also, by this point - he still has a massive bed hair. please brush his hair in return. and braid it too - he'll touch the finished piece with a blush on his face and shyly thank you for being so kind to him.

also! he trusts you a lot and lets you change his bandage every morning. particular spots hurt more than the others and Kazu tries not to show his pain; but seeing how much care you're putting into it, disinfecting it, and kissing the pain away when he winces - the love stored in his heart makes the relief appear faster.

he ALWAYS makes sure you're all warm and comfy, especially in winter. Kazu covers you entirely with a thick blanket from his bag, the sole item in it during your shared travels. he's also willing to stay cuddled up together for a bit longer when he notices the snowfall outside. his warm breath fans over your neck as his arm over your waist tightens and brings you closer to him.

Dainsleif:

again, another morning person - but slightly less by choice. as soon as Dainsleif shoots open his eyes, he tries to calm down his racing heart; he lets out a sigh of relief when his indigo eyes notice you sound asleep.

he smiles shyly at your intertwined hands. he brings them closer to his face, pressing a sweet kiss on each of your knuckles, careful not to wake you up and give you a bit more time to rest.

even though you've expressed multiple times that you hate it - Dain can't stop guarding you right after awakening himself. He won't get back to sleep no matter what, keeping an eye out on the possible danger. He's aware that you don't like it - but he can't let anything happen to you, not even a scratch if he's nearby. You're everything he has left. He's lost everything else and despite being aware of the strength that gods possess, he's willing to cross blades with them if it meant extending your life more in return.

he always shifts your resting body on his - sometimes just your head on his lap so you can sleep a bit more comfortably, or entirely, so he keeps you secure between his legs, using his chest as a pillow and having his arms wrapped around you tightly.

"Good morning, my star. How was your sleep? Did you have any pleasant dreams?" is his daily mantra he says when he sees you arise. Next, Dain caresses your lips with his own in a tender kiss. if you decide that you feel cheesy that morning, answer something along these lines: "it seems like I haven't awoken from my pleasant dream yet." his cheeks will flush cherry red, hand flying to cover the blush immediately; even if you can't see it, you know it worked. it always does.

Dainsleif might not be kazuha-tier when it comes to cooking, so he prefers to take you to various taverns for your first meal if it's possible (yes, he's in mom-mode when it comes to breakfast and won't stop until you eat, because "breakfast must not be skipped. it's the most important meal!"). however, when that option isn't available, he prepares you a meal himself. some recipes are long forgotten, they taste like nothing else you've eaten before - they taste bizarre at first, but later on dain finally hits the jackpot and discovers your favorite. while your stomach gets filled with khaenri'ahn delicacies, his chest almost suffocates with the warmth and he watches you with twinkling eyes and the most tender smile.

Alhaitham:

this man. he ZOOMS out of bed as soon as the alarm rings. immediately puts on half of his clothes. when he's about to leave the room... he comes back near the bed, gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, and then moves to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and your favorite drink.

he really wants to avoid Kaveh. he will NOT deal with him in the morning, nuh uh. unless he can make his day a bit worse than Kaveh anticipates...

either way, he lets you sleep 20 more minutes. the exact moment the clock on his wall hits 7:20am, he returns to your shared room and gently shakes you to wake you up. if you don't comply, he just takes you bridal style to the kitchen and sits you on his lap, regardless of whether you still sleep.

he loves pressing you tightly to his chest, inhaling the fresh scent of your laundry detergent and your own, natural one; he hides his face in your neck, closing his eyes. his lips connect with your neck and leave a trail of kisses, while his defined arm tightens around your waist. perhaps that will wake you up?

hearing Kaveh entering the kitchen and greeting you (and mumbling something to him too, but clearly not genuine) he looks at him with a slight annoyance. Kaveh merely lets out a "hmph" sound, clearly unaware of what Alhaitham is about to do. the scribe locks eyes with him shortly before going back to kissing your neck, but this time marking you; the obscene noises cause you to immediately awaken if you haven't, and Kaveh storming out of the room with a blush, muttering curses under his breath. Alhaitham only chuckles as you turn your head to face him, "good morning, love. you've finally woken up. we have to leave soon, so hurry up and drink it before it gets cold like last time."

on his day off, his day starts similarly - he wakes up a bit later though, but still needs his morning coffee. with the steaming drink on his nightstand, he joins you back below the cozy sheets, sitting down with his back against the headboard. he glances at you one last time and kisses your lips ever so slightly, the touch so tender that you barely register it; then, his eyes are glued to the book in hand he's been reading for a few days. if you wish, he'll gladly have you between his legs and let you snore on his chest - you don't even have to say a thing - he automatically rises his arm and waits for you to move without moving his eyes from the book. once you've settled comfortably, he pulls up the duvet and puts his chin on your head (and occasionally rubs your back gently, but denies it. even if you catch him. every time).

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parvulous-writings · 6 months

Note

Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Rolan, and Zevlor react to being stuck in close proximity with gn crush?

Warnings: None!

Notes: These may be a little short/uneven, but these were so cute to write!! Anon, you've become such a prominent asker, that I'd love to give you a nickname of some sort, if you're comfortable with that! <3 My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Wyll

Wyll is a gentleman about the whole situation - or at least he tries to be. He gives you as much space as he is able to, even though he's squishing himself into a corner, he's more than happy to do that so that you're comfortable.

He tries to keep up conversation with you, to try and distract from the somewhat uncomfortable situation; mostly mundane questions, like 'What's your favourite...' or 'Have you ever...' It's also partly to distract you from the fact that his cheeks are burning hotter than the hells. Who'd have thought it'd be easy to fluster the Blade of Frontiers, even if it were only slightly, by being so near to him?

He cannot take his eyes off of you. Not even for a moment. He tries, at first, but finds it astronomically difficult, and eventually just gives in. He loves gazing at you - your presence brings him such peace, even in such a compromising position such as this.

Once the two of you are found/make your way out of the confined space, Wyll apologises - even though it was not his fault - and offers to make it up to you at some point, by however you see fit.

Rolan

Rolan is entirely speechless. He cannot find the words to say anything to you, not even a half-handed snappy quip. His eyes rarely meet yours, and are rather more often aimed off to the side, or somewhere above your heads. It's... Quite awkward.

You try anything to break the silence between the two of you; "Can you move your leg, please, Rolan?" Followed by a quiet shuffle as Rolan tries to move a little bit further from you but still remain comfortable. It is of little use on either front, but he tries. Any question of "how are you feeling?" Or "You okay?" is met with either complete silence, or a quiet grunt of acknowledgement.

Rolan doesn't know what to do, he's never been in a situation like this before - much less a situation where he can't find the words to express himself. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, harder than he can recall it ever being in his life. He's entirely tense, and he has no idea what to do; his normal confident facade has completely crumbled away, leaving little besides anxiety, and a slightly fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever you speak.

The first chance he gets after the pair of you can separate, he all but disappears from view - for several hours. You had wanted to talk to him about it, but couldn't find him anywhere. Eventually you do find him, but as soon as you bring up the situation, he turns his gaze from you; "I... Would rather not dwell on the situation... If it's all the same to you." He's just too flustered still to be able to process any of it.

Zevlor

Zevlor is constantly asking how you're feeling. "Are you sure you're well?" followed a few minutes later with, "Is there anything you need? ... Yes, I am aware I can't go and get anything, but I'm sure you understand the sentiment..."

He constantly asks you if you're alright, comfortable, etc. Neither of you know how long you're going to be stuck in this situation, so is completely understanding of the constant need to shuffle to keep your limbs from going dead. This being said, he'll always tell you if he's going to try and move himself, just so that he can try not to kick you, and you can brace yourself just in case of this outcome.

He tells you of his time in Elturel before it's descent into Avernus, his time as a Hellrider, all sorts. He finds it very easy to share things with you, since he's so sweet on you - it would usually take some probing for anyone to get that kind of information out of him. But, since he would like to establish more of a relationship with you, he's willing to part with some of it.

Once the two of you are out in the open again, Zevlor double checks that you're okay. "I would have hoped to have had some of those conversations in a more... Traditional way. But, I suppose, one cannot deny the deft hands of fate, hm?"

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milksuu · 10 months

Text

Don't Worry. I'll Support You. | PT. 01

❥ prompt: Your HEARTSTEEL boyfriend has to undergo minor surgery, and they chose you to be their caretaker for the day. Let's see how they are before and after anesthesia. ❥ content/warnings: fluffy fluff, drugged behavior (all medically safe), mention of needles, mild profanity, minor angst ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel! (aphelios, ezreal, kayn) x girlfriend!reader

an: i don't know why this was tumbling around in my head. wow, this post got longer and longer the more i wrote. i swear I'll write for the other babes too.

APHELIOS

Unfortunately, this wouldn't be the first time Aphelios had to undergo surgery. Happened when they had to remove the nodule from his vocal cords. And he doesn't remember a single thing from that day. Alune took care of him at the time, but she never mentioned anything beyond how he slept most of the day (probably to spare him from embarrassment).

He appreciated you taking a day off work to take care of him and be his interpreter. He was fine with all his consents and paperwork. But when it came to more detailed questions concerning his medical history, he would have you translate his sign language to the medical staff. Thanks to you, the process went smoothly.

IV's were never fun to have. Especially when it had to be in the hand. Aphelios couldn't lie and say he wasn't nervous about it, despite his aloofness. But all he had to do was shift his eyes away for a moment, and look at your cute, bubbly face. He could tell you were rambling on trying to distract him, and he guessed it worked. By the time he looked down again, the IV was in. He denied the golden star sticker usually meant for the pediatric patients, but you took it for him as a momento.

When it was time for him to go into the OR, the medical team gave you two a moment. You slipped a hand into his and gave him two love squeezes. He smiled softly and gave three love squeezes back. A quick peck to his lips and you left to sit in the waiting room.

When he was brought to recovery and awake, you were taken to his bedside. When you stepped through the curtain, you saw him resting as if he were asleep at home. Slowly, he opened his eyes, glazed over with mild recognition. Although he felt lethargic, he signed sloppily with his hands.

Is this heaven?

You bit your bottom lip to keep from smiling too much. You shook your head and reminded him where he was.

Oh. Really? Because you look like an angel to me. And if they want you back up there. Forget it. I'm keeping you.

You covered your mouth to keep from giggling too loud. You weren't sure if he was being serious or actually trying to flirt with you. It wasn't common at all for him to be so corny, but you blamed the anesthesia for that. When the nurse came to the bedside, she went over discharge instructions while you held his hand. He kept giving you light squeezes and rubbing his thumb gently against your fingers. Just to make sure you wouldn't fly away. Of course, anytime you had to let go and sign a paper, he sighed heavily (almost a whine if he wasn't careful), until your hand floated right back for him to take. Then he was sighing with relief again.

While at home, it was just the same. Aphelios didn't want you to leave his side for even a moment. If he had his way, you'd be sleeping next to him, still holding onto his hand. You had to remind him many times that you had to take care of him, so no cuddles or naps just yet. You also had to remind him he needed to eat and take fluids after fasting for so long. If there was thing you knew, he was a picky eater. Aphelios seriously thought ketchup packets counted as a full meal and satisfied his daily fiber intake. Luckily, you were able to spoon feed him some soup with a couple of crackers.

After you had him take his first dose of medication, you could finally indulge him. You settled next to him in bed, and he took no time to wrap himself around you, nuzzling your chest. A small, sleepy smile formed against his lips. Maybe you weren't a real angel. But you couldn't convince him you weren't his heaven on Earth.

EZREAL

Oh, boy. This was the first time Ezreal had to have any kind of surgery. Even though it was supposedly minor, that didn't stop the nerves itching underneath his skin. Is it normal to be this nervous? He wasn't sure, but he tried his best to hide his chattering teeth behind a forced smile. He really didn't want you worrying about him more than you had too. You were already doing him a big favor by taking care of him. He just hoped he wouldn't be a wreck before and after.

Apparently, signing consent forms and answering medical questions became a challenge. His hand trembled so much, his usual confident signature looked like a preschooler forged it. And when it came to answering medical questions, he found himself stuttering, feeling like someone stuck cotton balls inside his mouth.

When it was time for the IV, his whole body was ready to collapse in on itself. Was it always so hot in here? Sweat dampened the top of his skin. W-What's the big deal anyway? Not like he was afraid of some tiny, sharp...needle....OK, the room was spinning now. Great—awesome. Man, he felt so lame.

Seeing the color drain from his complexion, his head drop back, and his eyelids fluttering close, you politely asked the nurse to give him a moment with you. She laid him down in the stretcher and brought you a wet cloth. Wiping at his damp face and neck, you rested a comforting hand against his heaving chest. "It's okay to be afraid, Ez. It's not easy to have surgery. You're brave for even being here." He shook his head weakly, clenching his eyes tight. "B-brave. Yeah right, babe. I mean, look at me. I'm practically comatose and the nurse barely even wrapped the tourniquet around my arm."

"Brave doesn't mean not being afraid of anything. It's doing something even knowing it's scary." Another wipe of his cheek and you planted a reassuring kiss. "There's no one braver in my eyes right now." Ezreal swallowed the ball of anxiety nested in his throat. A couple of more inhales and he gathered his remaining courage for the next step that had to be done.

You held his hand the entire time the nurse worked to get his IV started. You told him to close his eyes and take big breaths, and it would be over before he even knew it. He did as instructed, and just like you said, it was done. He admitted to you that it felt a bit itchy, but that he could deal with. Oh, but was it so worth it when the nurse offered him that golden star sticker. He slapped it on the chest of his gown like a badge of honor.

When the medical team arrived to take him in the stretcher, he gave you that million dollar smile and peace sign. Granted, you whispered to the anesthesiologist to give him some relaxing medication before he went in. The anesthesia provider was way ahead of you. When he started giggling, waving, and blowing kisses like he was out the sunroof of a limo driving down the boulevard—oh yeah. You knew he was feeling it.

When it was all over and they called you back to recovery, the nurse informed you he couldn't stop talking the moment he opened his eyes. And all that he was talking about was you. "Babe! Babe! I did it—I can't even believe it's over. I don't even remember them putting me to sleep. Crazy, right? Like, did I count down from ten? Did I make it to zero? I bet I made it to zero." He practically wiggled himself over the safety rails on the stretcher. You sweetly instructed him to keep still so that the nurses could get a decent blood pressure on him. "Okay. Okay. I'll be good. Promise." He forced himself to lay back, but that didn't last long. While the nurse was going over instructions, he was tugging on your shirt sleeve, calling your name, interrupting every moment wanting your attention. Apparently, he had a lot to say to you in the span of thirty-minutes you were separated.

When you arrived back home, by some miracle you were able to have him settled on the couch once you put on his favorite K-Drama. While sitting next to him (and making sure he didn't get up) he rested his cheek against the top of your head. "Thanks for everything, babe. Honestly, you make me feel like the bravest guy. Like Indiana Jones....or Captain Kirk...maybe even that...one actor from National Treasure...." before you could say anything back, you felt his body relax further into you. His light breaths signaling he dozed off seamlessly. With a warm smile, you pulled the blanket over the two of you, and snuggled closer before you joined him for a nap.

KAYN

GOD DAMN IT'S EARLY! Kayn wanted to shout when you woke him up for his 6AM arrival time. Instead, he grumbled, kicked on his crocks, and went in his pajamas. He was too tired to really argue and complain. He just wanted to get this done and over with so he could move on with his life.

Kayn didn't diddle-daddle with his forms and medical questions. He wanted to put on his gown, toss himself into the stretcher, and possibly get a few more winks before his surgical time. You sighed—this was going to be the longest hour before surgery.

Although still in a foul mood, Kayn eased a bit when you worked up a distracting conversation with him. And when the nurse came in to do his IV, Kayn didn't bother blinking. He probably stuck himself countless of times with other—probably sharper—and deadlier objects. Actually, he took it one step further. When the IV was inserted, just to mess with you (and the nurse), he made a loud, and seductive moan. You pinched his arm for startling the nurse. Poor thing didn't even know how to react to that nonsense. "Ow. Ow. Nurse—nurse, she's hurting me." He said, cowering away from you. "You deserve that for almost giving them a heart attack. What if they missed and had to stick you twice?" Kayn smirked, rubbing at his nipple line. "More of a good time for me, then." You rolled your eyes, begging for him to behave for the next half-hour.

When the surgeon came to the bedside, he discussed the procedure at length and a few expectations afterwards. When he finished, he asked if either of you had any questions. Kayn raised his hand like the serious kid in math class. "Yeah. Question, Dr. Shen. When can I have sex again?" You almost spat out the complimentary coffee the front staff so kindly gave you. You couldn't believe he had just asked that question so casually at...let's see.... 06:50 in the morning!

You apologized on his behalf, but Dr. Shen merely dismissed it. "That's quite alright. It's a fair question. And one I receive plenty of times from my male patients. Even ones well into their eighties, and surprisingly, nineties." Kayn nodded with a grin and you rubbed your warming forehead. Of course. What else would they bother to ask? The surgeon went on to say; "As far as any kind of exertional activities, that will all be discussed and cleared at your follow-up appointment in two weeks."

TWO WEEKS!? Kayn almost fainted right then in there. He looked at you with such concern, as if someone told him a Pentakill concert sold out before he could even buy a ticket. He reached over and grabbed your hand, holding tight. "Listen, kitten. I don't think I want this surgery anymore. Can we go home now?" You shook your head disapprovingly. After hearing such news, and you not bailing him out, Kayn sulked as if he was getting surgery to forever castrate him.

When it was time to take him, he begrudgingly let you kiss his cheek. Otherwise, he didn't reciprocate your affection. He tossed his chin away and said. "Whatever. Let's just get this crap over with." Once again, he had you shaking your head, and you apologizing to everyone in the room.

When the nurse came to bring you back into recovery, you noticed he was sleeping on his side, back turned to you. You wondered if he was still upset by the whole ordeal. When you reached out to touch his shoulder, he tensed, but slowly turned over. "Kayn. Are you feeling alright? If you're in pain, I'll tell the nurse—" Before you could finish, Kayn reached forward and grabbed you, pulling you into the tightest hug. You felt him bury his face into your neck and shoulder, hands desperately clinging to you.

"Oh, thank you, thank you." You heard him choke up. You brought a hand to gently comb through his hair, asking him what was wrong. He shook his head. "I...I don't know. I thought— just before everything went black—what if I never saw you again. And the way I acted before they took me..." he squeezed tighter, burying his sulking face deeper. "I'm sorry. I love you, okay? Just, trust me on that. Please."

"It's okay. I love you too," you hummed and stroked his back, continuing to assure him. "You don't have to worry anymore. It's all over. You're still here. The doctor said you did so good, and there were no complications." Pausing, you planted a kiss to the top of his head. "How about we get you dressed so we can go home, hm?" He nodded against your shoulder, and you helped the nurse dress him for discharge.

When you brought him home, Kayn wanted to do nothing but turn off the lights, close the blinds, and lay next to you in quiet darkness. Breathe you in, feel your warmth, and listen to the softness of your pulse against his ear. Focus on the fact that he was alive and you were alive with him—nothing else.

#heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel kayn #aphelios x reader #ezreal x reader #kayn x reader #league of legends #reader insert #x reader #my man dr shen making an appearance #divider by leafsea

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tswhiisftteedr · 8 months

Text

Good Pup ☆ One Shot

☆Mean!Sciences Proffesor!Divus Crewel x College Freshman!Fem!Reader:

After seeing you excel in his class, Professor Crewel interest had peeked. You were not from this world, and your academic knowledge was far too different from what was taught here, too different for it to be considered fair for you to study such material at the college level, a lost cause, he thought at first. And yet, he couldn't help but feel proud as you quickly rose to become one of the top students in his class. One day after potionology you had forgotten your textbook behind, and being the great teacher that Divus Crewel is, he ought to give back to you. After looking around for a bit, then spotting in a hallway talking with your friends, he happens to overhear about your secret thoughts on him…

Based on this ask and poll.

Warnings: Mature Content, Swearing/Explicit Language, Spanking(of ass, thigh, and pussy, by hand and pointer), Choking(on dick lol), degrading names, pet play ig?(just names like pup, dog and mutt but not anything else in that area). READER IS A COLLEGE FRESHMAN AS NCR IS ONE IN THIS FIC SO THEY ARE AT LEAST 18, CREWEL IS CANONICALLY 32 SO KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE ENGAGING.

Note: This is sort of a remake of ‘Personal Training’ but instead of Professor Vargas, it’s our dear sadistic Divus Crewel. Like a different Au, so the encounter between reader and professor Vargas didn’t happen here. Also why are all the proffesror mean you may ask, well the answer is quite simple… I like to bullied by authority figures/people in charge and those fics self indulgence 🤪✌️. Also for future request, if not precise what type of behaviour you want for the love interest, i will default to writing mean!dom!character or pervy!dom!character cuz that’s i like lol.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Ever since starting classes at NCR Wonderland, you felt off about begin your academic journey as a college Freshman. Sure you were the right age for it, but wasn’t it a bit to much of an ask to start with college courses, especially with most of the mediums being different from your world? But at last you had no choice but sucking it up, working harder than any other student in your year to keep up. Though you did enjoy some of the classes, just because they had familiar concept. Magic analysis was like any other analysis class you had taken before the topic was just different, you also had music which was the same as back home, and of course there was Potionology…

That class was your beacon of hope each week. You genuinely enjoyed it, not only because it resembled chemistry, making the 'laboratory process' easier to grasp, but it was also the only class where you could actually use magic! The mixtures you created could do things you could only dream of in your world. Moreover, making such complex and potent elixirs made you feel useful. You felt competent with this world's materials because of it, even if Crowley didn't find a way for you to return home, you possibly could get around. Of course, there was another tiny reason why you loved the class so much, actually it was a pretty significant one. Even in your own thoughts, you couldn't deny that you were practically drooling at your professor each time you entered his classroom.

But how could you resist? That man was incredibly hot, smoking even. And his voice, god! It was undeniably sexy. Plus, the way he addressed you was so appealing: Generally, he would call you a 'pup', 'good girl' or 'good dog' when you did something right or answered a question correctly. He'd say 'bad dog' or 'bad girl' if you made a mistake.

He would also refer to himself as your trainer, at some point asking of you and Grim to address him as "O Great Crewel" or "Master/Master Crewel" instead of "Professor Crewel", as a form of discipline.

And fuck was that hot, honestly that was the primary reason you worked so diligently in his class. Hearing his praise and being able to call him "Master" only served to fuel your fantasies.

You wondered how he could discipline you in a more 'physical' way. Would he use his pointer or his hands on your thighs and ass when spanking you? Would he continue to use the usual nicknames, or would he resort to degrading names like 'slut', 'whore', ‘needy bitch in heady’ or perhaps 'greedy pup'? The curiosity from it was driving you mad, to the point where you even considered pulling your panties to the side and touch yourself at the sound of his voice, as taught class unbeknownst to it all.

Naturally, you wouldn't actually do it. After all, even if your noises didn't give you away, the smell certainly would. (You were certain the beastman in your class would detect something like that.) However, there was a certain allure in to the scenario.

Perhaps a classmate would inform your professor, leading to a public reprimand. You picture your professor criticizing your behavior while you stand in an embarrassing position for all to see. Your skirt would lifted and he would be abusing your behind, probably edge you during the spend of the whole lesson. Then right before the bell rang, he would touch your sweet spot one last time, and right around his fingers you would squir-

Oh, right, the bell. Class had just ended. You snapped back to reality and turn to your friends. From their expressions, it's clear they've been trying to get your attention for a while.

Hastily gathering your things, stuff them into your backpack, and follow your friends out of the classroom. Unbeknownst to you, the potionology textbook you need for tonight's homework is left behind on your desk.

You soon reach the hallway where you and your friends usually sat at a break. It's lunchtime, and as per your routine, you start your daily rant about your professor to Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek. Grim is also there, but as always, he is so focused on his food that he isn't paying attention.

Meanwhile, Divus was getting ready to head to the teachers' lounge to enjoy his lunch when he noticed the Potionology textbook on your desk.

Even if he didn't know where you sat during class time, he could tell that it belonged to you by the fact that it had small pawprint stickers surrounding your name on the book’s bridge. The memory of you telling him that customizing the book that way was the best resurfaced. After all you were a "good pup, so why not add the paw prints to match the statement.”, you had told him when he inquired about the decorations.

That comment made him chuckle, which brought a bright grin to your face. While it's true that he would refer to his students by such names, at no point in his career did a student use the term to address themselves. To be honest, he finds it cute that you adore the name that most of your peers detested. You simply smile and giggle anytime he uses it to compliment you, and you pout like a real puppy when he corrects you. ‘Truly adorable.’

He actually liked you. Regardless of how your entourage behaved, you were an excellent student who did not cause any problems. You paid attention in class and worked really hard to achieve the highest grades not only in his class but in others, but it appeared to him that you were more interested in the course that he taught compared to the rest. In non-magical courses, you received an average of 70-80, and your sciences marks were in the 90s, slightly higher grades.

Divus also liked how, despite the restricted male uniform, you had altered the uniform to be more fashionable with the consent of the headmaster. Instead of the dull pants that came with it, you wore a skirt that was little longer than mid-thigh but did not reach the knee. It was elegantly embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, and you wore stockings to match it. A work of art in the man's eyes, which made you even more favourable to him; he adored when someone had a true sense of fashion.

Despite your puppy-like demeanour when he spoke to you, there was a gleam in your eyes, a lustful one at that. You looked at him as if you wanted him to bend you over your desk that very instant, practically eye fucking him throughout the lecture. You may not realize that he noticed, but as a desirable man, he was highly aware of such things. He observed as you unconsciously rub your thighs together, while he chewed you up for a small error; he 'was expecting better from such a bright girl like yourself, this was extremely disappointing'.

Even though he kept it to himself, attempting to maintain professionalism, him still being your teacher and all. Maybe you weren't as horny as he believed, just slightly flustered by the charming way he addressed you, especially coming from a handsome man like himself. However, no matter how sweet you were, you couldn't fulfill his desires. He craved someone he could dominate and control, someone who to basically bully into submission. You were far too innocent and gentle for that. He assumed that if you did have any sexual thoughts about him, your fantasies would be quite vanilla in nature.

‘And oh, boy, was he wrong!’ That was his thoughts when he overheard the conversation between you and your friends, having finally reach the hallway you usually frequented, your potionology textbook book in hand.

A bit earlier,

You and your friends had started eating and you were babbling;

“Okay, lisent, like hear me out-“ you begin,

“I am not hearing, YOU out. You’ve already said enough.” Sebek quickly retorts.

“Valid point, but, but think about it. Hot mean teacher disciplines you with a spanking while degrading you.” You suggest,

“NO!” Sebek tells you horrified.

"Come on, Sebek, don't be so ip tight. I may not be into that kinda of stuff, but Y/N has a point. I don't get the appeal, but Professor Crewel does fit her type.” Ace tells the distress crocodile.

“But he's a teacher, OUR teacher. I don't understand how people can have crushes on their teachers, but openly lusting for them should be prohibited! Also, not discussed like any other normal subject!” Sebek tells the card soldier.

“I agree with Sebek, you should keep such intimate thoughts to yourself.” Jack adds on,

“Ya say that but chur tail be waggin' like an exited puppy. It’s obvious ya like hearin' bout the naughty stuff from missy over there!” Epel comments.

“That’s not-“ Jack begins, but cuts himself off, like Epel said his tail was wagging crazy so he couldn’t deny anything. So “whatever!” was all he said, followed by a huff and a frustrated growl.

"Look, I'm not saying people should go out of their way to fuck their teachers; it's just that the man who potentially would fulfills all of my desires and fantasies happens to be my teacher. And, honestly, he must be aware that his nicknames and actions would turn some students.” You say to the group,

“What? How’s that?” Deuce questions.

“Come on, it's not like you can't go to NCR if you're into things like pet play or bdsm. He must have known that each year would have some students who fit that description. Don't tell me you thought he was completely clueless towards that?” You explain,

“Well when you put it like that, I guess Professor Crewel probably knows about it.” Deuce sorta agrees.

“He’s probably just ignoring it, pushing it to the back of his mind and pretending that it’s not real.” Ace comments,

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. But at the end of day, the fact that he’s aware doesn’t change much, I still won’t get him to bend me over his desk” you say with a dramatic sigh, making both Epel and Ace laugh.

“Honestly even if there was some stellar chance that he could be into me, he’s probably in a relationship already. If he isn't married, he is most likely casually dating someone.” You add on.

“Yeah, too bad for ya!” Epel says with a snicker.

Unknown to you and your friend group, the same professor you were discussing was right around the corner, listening in on you thirsting over him.

And truthfully this was a shock to him. Sure he might have found you attractive, but also he had convinced himself that you couldn’t fulfill his desires. Now turns out both of your fantasies aligned, and he was going to make good use of that knowledge.

Now heading towards your group the clacking sounds of Divus’s heels made all of you turn around. Some of their expression where terror, some confusion but Ace and Epel looked like they were holding in a laugh.

Clearing his voice, “Miss.L/n, just the person I was looking for. You had forgotten your potionology textbook in my class, so I went looking for youu in to hand it back, you wouldn’t want to miss tonight’s homework, now would you?” He told, as passed you the book.

“Oh, um, thanks professor Crewel!” You exclaimed a bit distraught, ‘did he hear what I’ve been saying or what?’

“Try again. You know that’s not the appropriate way to address me, now is it.” He states making you rethink your words,

“Right, sorry, Master Crewel...” You spoke out.

“That’s much better. Now come along pup.” He said as he turn around and started walking,

“What- why?” you ask confused. And he turns his head to gaze at you.

“Well isn’t it obvious, you and I got much to discuss. Do not question me anymore today, or any day for that matter. Stand up and follow me right now, otherwise you will suffer greater repercussions than I originally planned to make you endure.”

“Oh, okay.” You squeak out and grab your belongs, now trailing right behind your dear professor Crewel, ‘oh, right, O Great Crewel.’

You returned to your classroom, Divus locked the doors behind you. He had been sitting at his laptop for the past 10 minutes. You were sitting on a chair, on the opposite side of your desk.

"I have magi-mailed your other professors, they have cleared your itinerary for the afternoon. Lucky for us, today was the one I had spares in the afternoon as well." He informs you.

"But if this talk was going to take a while, I could have just come back after class," you say.

"No, I must have a chat with you right this instant.” Divus replies.

You only nod, turning to gaze out of the window to ease your nerves. Of course he noticed, so he turned his lamp desk on, it was bright, then magically closed all the blinds. He moved from his seat to your side of the desk, resting on it as he looked down at you.

“Now, let’s start this talk. Do you know why I brought you here?” He inquires.

“I’m sorry sir I don’t know.” Honestly you weren’t sure maybe he overheard you or maybe this was about something else.

“Not don’t play coy pup.” He told you sternly,

“Perhaps my grades sir…” you croak out, barely above a whisper.

“I guess you decide to persevere in your bad dog act, stand up.” He tells you, sounding exasperated.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself mutt!”

Without a word you did as you were, the suddenly felt a had push on your back, not protesting anymore you just expect your fate as you were now folded upon the wooden desk.

“Looks like your not completely hopeless, but that one time show of obedience won’t exempt you from your punishment.” He said, you felt a somewhat thin metallic object glide up your right leg, you guessed it was his pointer. “Spread” was all you heard before the words were followed by a swift whip of the pointer.

You were dazed by the feeling, not completely registering the given order. This seem to irritate Divus, as another strike came down, but this time you react right on impact, now having your legs nicely spread out. ‘Your head was slightly dizzy, was this going the way you thought it was?’

But before you could linger on that thought, you felt Divus's hands remove your panties from your hips, letting them drop to your ankles. Your ass and cunt were now exposed to him. You heard a little shuffling, then his soft breath was in your ear. "Listen, since I'm not going to say it twice. I overheard you being a little slut, talking to your friends about how much you want me to hurt you. So that's exactly what I'm going to do, I'm going to discipline you to never forget how to address me, to never talk so lewdly in front of another man, and to make you incapable of living a functional life without me in it. Now, if you understand, say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

“Yes!..sir—!”

"Good. Now I'm going to spank you, and you must count after each hit and thank me for it, you may only address me as Sir or Master, if anything other than what I've instructed comes out of your mouth or you mess up the count, we'll start over and add 10 more strikes for you to go over. Also, you aren’t to touch me unless instructed otherwise.”

By the time he reached strike 29, your bottom was a of deeper color than your regular skin tone, covered in marks and bruises. Your thighs were quivering from the constant impact of his hand on your sensitive areas. "Twenty-eight... Thank you, sir..." You panted heavily, biting down on your lower lip to suppress any further sounds of discomfort.

Crewel stopped suddenly, taking a moment to admire his work. He ran his fingers gently over your bruised ass cheeks, leaving trails of coolness where they brushed against your heated skin. "That’s wrong," he spoke out, a spank from his hand came down your ass this time. "You already said 28, this means we have to start over. But this time, we’re going up to 40."

You whimpered softly, your eyes widening in terror as you realized what this meant for your already sore ass. "N-No! Please, I apologize, sir! I'll count better!" Your pleas fell on deaf ears as Crewel resumed his merciless assault on your sensitive flesh. Each strike landed harder than before, leaving deep marks that would surely become bruises soon.

"One... Two... Three... Four..." Eventually, you reached number 40. The last blow sent waves of agony coursing through your entire body, and you let out a strangled cry. Tears trickled down your cheeks, streaming down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. "Thank you, sir..." You managed to choke out between heavy breaths.

After giving you a moment to recover, Crewel noticed the wetness between your legs and smirked cruelly. "You enjoyed that didn't you, filthy slut?" he growled, his voice lower than usual, almost seductive.

Grabbing hold of your waist and lifting you slightly before slapping your sensitive folds forcefully. The sudden contact caused a sharp gasp to escape your lips, followed by a moan of mixed pain and pleasure.

"What did you just say, mutt?" he demanded, his voice dripping with malice. "No, don't answer," he continued before continuing his barrage on your sensitive areas, alternating between your lips and clit, ensuring that you wouldn't forget this lesson anytime soon.

After several minutes of relentless punishment, he finally stop the smacking of your privates. Following it by cupping your dripping folds in his hand, rubbing them roughly, spreading your juices over your sensitive flesh.

Than bringing his fingers in view for you to see, sticky liquids all over them."You see how much you enjoy this, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Your body had shook after every blow, your moans had turned into sobs as you struggled to maintain composure. Through tears and gasps for air, you managed to choke out between breaths, "Y-Yes, sir... I love it!" your tone was desperate, pleading for more even though your body ached in pain. You couldn't deny the intense pleasure mixed with the agony.

“That’s it," he praised, his voice dripping with false approval. Reaching between your spread legs once more, he inserted one finger into your tight entrance, stretching you further than you could with your own. Despite the pain, a soft moan escaped your lips involuntarily.

"Now, beg me to cum, you needy bitch in heat," he commanded gruffly, his tone harsh yet somehow erotic. Your mind was a mess of conflicting emotions; part of you begged for release, while another part of you wanted to defy him and deny him what he sought.

You forced yourself to focus on the burning sensation of his finger probing deeper into your sensitive core, trying hard not to move or squirm too Your your body ached everywhere from the brutal punishment you had endured thus far. "P-Please... sir... I need you to..." your voice trailed off as he thrust another finger inside you, stretching your even further.

"More, please!" you managed to croak out between gasps for air. Your hips involuntarily bucked against him, seeking more contact, more stimulation. Despite the pain, the combination of humiliation and arousal was becoming too much for you to handle.

Crewel chuckled darkly, enjoying the sight of you squirming and begging for more. Slowly, he began to move his fingers in and out of your tight entrance, teasing your sensitive spots with precise strokes. "Good," he praised again, his voice laced with malice. "Now, beg me for your orgasm properly."

Ultimately, survival instinct kicked in, and you forced out a broken plea, "Please, sir... I need to cum... Please..." your voice cracked on the last word, betraying both your desperation and submission.

His pace picked up slightly, thrusting faster and harder into your tight passageway. Your moans turned into high-pitched cries of pleasure as you neared the edge of ecstasy. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he stopped abruptly, leaving you hanging on the brink of orgasm.

"Not yet, don’t tell me you thought you would get what you want that easily, did you?" he growled, his voice cold and commanding. "You haven't earned it yet." With a final taunt, he pulled out both fingers, leaving your dripping. "Clean yourself up, mutt," he ordered harshly, before turning away from your exposed body.

You were a mess, your body trembling in pre-orgasmic bliss and frustration. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you begged him through sobs, "P-Please, sir... I'll do anything... Just let me cum!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Divus turned back to you, grabbing you by your hair and making you drop to your knees in front of him. Reaching down, he unfastened his pants and slid them down, revealing his massive cock, hard and throbbing with desire through his boxer. It flapped against his stomach as pulled his garment down, it was veined and pulsing with need. "Much better," he said coldly. "Now, show me how much you want it."

Swallowing thickly, you raised your head and tentatively wrapped your lips around the tip of his member, taking as much of it into your mouth as you could without gagging. Your tongue flicked out, tracing the head of his cock, seeking more sensation. You began to suck greedily, your throat stretching around his thickness.

Divus groaned, his hands grasping your hair tightly as he began to thrust his hips forward, forcing more of his cock into your willing mouth. Your gagging and choking sounds only fueled his desire further. "That's a good mutt," he praised between heavy breaths. "You take my cock so well, you filthy dog."

You struggled to breathe as he continued his brutal assault on your throat, your eyes watering from the burn in your nose and throat. Despite the pain, you relish the feeling of being completely owned by him, your body becoming nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure. You moaned around his cock, hardly able to form coherent words between the constant thrusts.

As he continued to pound into your throat, your body shook with each powerful thrust. your hands reached up, grasping at his thighs for support as you struggled to keep him in your mouth. The combination of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, causing your mind to spiral into a hazy fog of desire.

Eventually, Divus slowed down, pulling out just enough for you to catch a brief moment of air before plunging back in deeper than before. "Are you ready for your reward, whore?" he growled, his voice low and menacing yet laced with promise.

Without waiting for a response, he unloaded his seed into your waiting mouth, filling it to the brim with hot, sticky semen. You gagged violently, struggling to swallow every drop, your eyes watering from the intensity of the sensation.

He held your head in place until his orgasm subsided, then pulled out, leaving your filled with his essence.

Your vision spun as you coughed and gagged, your body still trembling from the intense asphyxiation. Slowly, you felt your body being raised, finding yourself laying on Divus's desk, your legs folded and spread wide open, exposing your wet and swollen folds to his hungry mouth. Before you good connect 1 and 2 together, he was already between your legs, his tongue darting out to trace along your dripping entrance.

"Oh sevens..." you whimpered, arching your hips upwards, begging for more contact. Pulling away slightly, he teased your sensitive flesh with light touches before finally plunging his tongue deep inside your core, sucking and lapping at your juices voraciously. His fingers found your clit, pinching and rubbing it harshly, eliciting another moan of pleasure mixed with pain.

Your body trembled on the verge of orgasm once more, as he continued to torture your sensitive spots. Your nails scratched at the desk to avoid grabbing his head, you were sure you would get reprimanded for it, the wood was left with white lines shaky lines on it. "P-Please, sir... I need you to—!" you managed to choke out between gasps for air before you was cut off by a powerful moan.

Divus pulled away from your dripping folds, his face covered in your juices. "Mhm is that so," he growled, his voice dark and menacing. "Sadly for you, I don’t feel like letting you climax quite yet, you greedy pup." He teased.

Your body shook with frustration and need, your entire being aching for release. "P-Please... sir..." you begged pathetically, your voice barely more than a whimper. Hips bucking upwards, seeking more contact, more stimulation.

For what felt like a millennium, he continued to tease your sensitive spots, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy only to pull away just when you thought you could bear no more. Sweat trickled down your back, staining the cool surface of his desk beneath you.

Finally, feeling that it was enough, Divus thrust two fingers back inside your dripping entrance, simultaneously rubbing your swollen clit with his thumb. “Now cum.”

The combination of sensations was too much for you to handle, and you cried out in pure bliss as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure washed over your. Your pussy contracted tightly around his fingers, cumming so hard to be able to see stars.

Smiling down at you, he gave your cunt a small peck. Crewel smirked cruelly yet something sweet behind his eyes. "Seems like you’re beginning to learn your place well, pup," he said before moving closer again, his lips brushing against yours roughly. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, claiming ownership over your mouth once more, as well as your mind. He tongues wrestled violently, your saliva mixing together in a sickening dance, tasting each other on the other’s tongue.

After breaking the kiss, he stood up straight, looking down at you battered form with satisfaction. "Now, go home and get yourself cleaned up. We're finished for today." With that command, he help her up and walk her out of the school building, trying to avoid anything prying eyes. At her professor was kind enough to accompany her out, but she was on her when it came to walking home.

“See you on Saturday in my classroom, Miss. Y/n” was all he said as he turned and left for school once more. Leaving you alone to recover from the brutal punishment she had endured.

You only replied by a weak “See you sir”, but only when arrive at your door front did it click ‘Wait we don’t have class on the weekends, does that mean—‘

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