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#so I'm just working on other stuff that's low stress I want to write this
exhaslo · 3 months
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Hii exh!! I was wondering if u can do a request I have in mind, it’s basically CEO!Cold!Miguel x shy!Sweet!reader and Miguel literally needs stress relief but only reader can help him but as he fucks her in his office, he starts saying the most non sense shit about how he always stalks & admires her every time he sees her at work or home which has reader hella shocked and he also has a big breeding kink def :3 (this is my first time writing a request and I’m sorry if I didn’t explain right idk how to explain stuff😭)
I love me some cold!Miguel x shy!Reader shit. I'll write the hell out of this one, haha. Also, you are totally fine, thank you for allowing me to be the first one to receive your first request!!
So sorry that I'm writing this hella late tho. I had so many requests in December that it wasn't even funny. *cries*
Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, overstimulation, rough sex
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There were a lot of things Miguel hated about himself. Most, if not all of them, involved his thoughts about you. Every time you entered his mind, Miguel had the dirtiest thoughts. The worst intensions and the most horrible habits.
It all started when you got hired in his company. Lyla was looking for some new accountants to ease with the heavy workload. You were nearly hiding amongst the new hires. It was cute to think how you tried to hide yourself behind the other women.
Miguel took notice of you since you had such a low and soft voice. You quietly handed in your work to Lyla and always quickly fled. Miguel's gaze was always on you. How someone so shy and sweet ended up in the palm of his devilish hands.
Miguel's thoughts of you grew more obsessive. He needed you. He wanted you. Thoughts of you sitting on his cock started to flood his mind at one point when you cried over a mistake in paperwork. Miguel could give you a reason to cry. He could easily fill you up, having you sob in pleasure.
Miguel nearly lost his common sense when you came in on Valentine's day with cookies for everyone in your department. It felt horrible and disgusting, but Miguel approached you with sexual thoughts.
"Ah, h-hello, sir," You said with a soft stutter, surprised to see the CEO in front of you. Miguel just smiled casually,
"(Y/N), how are you?" He asked, walking with you to the elevator.
You felt your cheeks fluster as you walked beside Miguel. Gripping against your skirt, you replied to him quietly. You could barely pay attention to anything aside from your racing heart. You gasped as Miguel chuckled towards you, allowing you inside the elevator first.
"How kind of you to bring treats for everyone," Miguel said, his tone a little harsh. You froze,
"I-I'm s-sorry, sir. I-I can um, bring you some!" You panicked. Miguel's gaze was heavy on you as he pressed the emergency stop button, "S-Sir-"
"What if I want something else?" He asked, his voice heavy against your ear. You felt your body tremble,
"L-Like?"
The next moment, you were against the elevator wall, moaning loudly as Miguel's cock bullied your pussy. Your skirt riled up as your breasts bounced out of your bra. Drool rolling down your lips as you moaned and whimpered Miguel's name.
Miguel's thick, meaty cock, making a home inside your tight velvet walls as he pounded you. Shaking as you felt yourself about to cum again, you cried out his name. Miguel held your hips closer to his as he slapped himself inside your pussy deeper, giving you a heavy load of his cum.
"Good girl," He whispered in your ear before fixing your panties and skirt. You bit your lower lip and trembled at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you,
"Y-Yes, sir," You panted softly. Miguel lifted you up, kissing you before having the elevator move again.
"When I call, come to my office, okay?"
"Y-Yes, s-sir."
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Miguel's obsession with you only grew once he finally had a taste. Miguel made you that you were single and stayed that way. Only he could have you for himself. Miguel wanted you to be his. The only way he saw that was to fuck a baby into you.
You were such the perfect woman for him. You came when called and showered Miguel with attention. Even when he wasn't drilling his dick into your needy pussy, you were there for him. Miguel loved how you were already mother material.
"Um, sir?" You whispered, entering his office. Miguel glanced up at you, smiling devilishly,
"(Y/N), you know what to call me when we're alone."
"S-Sorry, Miguel. T-There were um...p-people at your door." You hurried over to his desk, placing a small box down, "Um...I...I hope you don't mind, but I-I heard it was the anniversary of the company. S-So, congrats!" You chirped.
Miguel glanced at the box, then towards you. He patted his desk, watching you obey and sit on it. With a lick of his lips, Miguel reached for the box as you slowly undid your shirt. His eyes were always on you. You were still so shy despite taking his dick many times.
"How thoughtful," Miguel hummed, glancing at the small present you got him.
You smiled brightly as Miguel admired the gift. It wasn't long before he returned his attention to you. His body already pressing yours against his desk as he lifted your skirt up once more. His fingers stroking your panties, watching you shake under his touch.
"You also wore the new lingerie set I got you, such a good girl."
"Mhpm~"
You tried to hide your smile as you melted under Miguel's touch. It was embarrassing the first few times you let him fuck you, but you loved every second of it. It was like a dream come true. You cared about Miguel and despite his cold attitude, you wanted to believe that he cared about you too.
"Spread your legs for me,"
Doing as he said, you bit your lower lip from anticipation. Miguel liked to fuck you rough and deep. You always stumbled and struggled to walk after your quick sessions. You felt embarrassed if you were to admit that you wanted him to keep fucking you.
"So wet for me already, what a naughty girl," Miguel hummed as he held his cock, pressing it against your hole, "But you did give me a gift, so I should reward you, right?"
"R-Reward...or..p-punishment...I'll take both," You whispered. Miguel smirked as he pushed his cock into your wet pussy,
"That's riiiiiight. You're such a good girl that you'll take both," Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into you, "My slutty good girl likes my dick no matter how I give it, right?"
"T-That's r-right!" You moaned out, gripping onto Miguel's jacket as he pounded you.
"Such a slutty pussy. Listen to how loud it's sucking me in. Do you want everyone to hear you take my dick so loud?"
"N-No~" You cried out, covering your face. Miguel chuckled as he spread your legs wider, watching a white ring form against his dick,
"Did you cum already? So soon, now, now, I didn't give you permission."
"M-Miggy~ Mig~" You moaned, flinging your head back as he rubbed against your sweet spot.
"Making it easier for me to fuck a baby into you, right? That's what you want, huh?" Miguel chuckled as he fasten his pace, ready to give you his first load, "You always hurry home, making sure you have plenty of time to fuck yourself to me ravishing you."
"Mhm~!" You shivered as Miguel poured his cum into your womb.
"Always preparing yourself for my dick. Such a good girl, getting yourself ready whenever I call for you," Miguel grunted in your ear as he continued his rough thrusts.
"Ah~ M-Mig~ T-Too much!" You begged. Miguel raised a brow as he started to slow down his thrusts, rubbing your clit in resposne,
"Too much? But don't you love screaming my name at night when you're home and lonely?" Miguel said harshly. You were shaking, whining as Miguel went slower,
"I-I do!"
"Then what should you be saying?" Miguel asked. You arched your back, whining as you tried to suck Miguel back in,
"D-Don't stop! P-Please fill m-my pussy, Miggy!"
"And?"
"Ah~ d-destroy me~ M-Make me yours~ P-Please! Please!" You begged.
Miguel complied as he returned to his rough thrusts. You cried and moaned louder as you cam against his dick once more. Miguel watched in amusement as your juices covered his cock. Your sweet, fucked out expression just begging for more.
Your body was shaking from overstimulation as Miguel kept toying with your clit and breasts. You were a babbling mess as Miguel pressed you into mating position. His cum filling your womb once more before he kept going.
"Let me make you a mother, (Y/N). Don't you want my child?"
"Yesh~" You whimpered.
"Say it," Miguel demanded. You rolled your eyes back, nearly gasping at the feeling of Miguel feeling you up even more,
"G-Gimme...yer baby, Migs." You begged.
Like music to his ears, Miguel kept his word. He made sure to keep giving you his load of cum until his next meeting that is. By the time he had to leave, Miguel fixed you up and placed your on his couch he had in his office. You slept soundly until he returned.
"(Y/N), let's go." Miguel whispered, waking you from your slumber. You whimpered in response, shaking as he helped you up,
"Sir..."
"Now, now. You know what to call me," Miguel chuckled darkly as you stumbled behind him.
"Migueeeel," You whispered, reaching out for him.
Miguel held your waist, leading you to his limo. A smirk clearly on his face as he led you inside. Once the car started to move, Miguel placed you on his lap, having you sit on his cock while he took you to his place.
"We're not going to stop until I give you my child, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear. You held onto Miguel, trembling against his cock as you felt him push back the cum that was already inside you,
"Y-Yes, Miguel,"
Miguel chuckled lowly as he held you in place. His sweet little worker was doing such a good job. Miguel hated how much he loved the thought of tainting your precious body. Miguel hated how much he loved filling you with his cock.
"Oh, (Y/N), my pretty little dick accessory. Tell me, what are you?" Miguel asked with a cruel tone.
"Y-Your good girl," You moaned in response.
Miguel just smirked as he had you bounce on him. Your face growing more flustered as you came against his dick. Miguel just held your hips, leaning back and watching you be his good girl. His sweet girl who would do anything for him.
"I'm going to make you my wife, (Y/N). You're going to have my baby and be mine. Doesn't that sound nice?"
"Mhm~ Yes, Miggy!"
"That's my good girl."
Miguel's smirk never faded as he continued to ravish your body until you finally pregnant with his child. Miguel made you his personal assistant, allowing you to assist him with his every need. You were his sweet, precious good girl.
And he wasn't letting you go.
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Hope you enjoyed!!!
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rowan-post · 6 months
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RPC self-care
We all get worn down by life and often we turn to RP for rejuvenation. But more than once I've seen people on here that find themselves burnt out on the RP community itself. With nearly 20 years of role playing under my belt, I thought I'd share some of my favourite self-care tricks.
Block people. You don't have to explain yourself and 'weird vibes' is a legitimate reason. You deserve to feel safe and unbothered in your hobby space, and RP is based on consent. Just like with any recreational activity, you can withdraw your consent at any time and no is a complete sentence.
Turn off anon. This prevents anonymous harassment and gives you great insight into who to block or report if you get non-anonymous harassment.
Drop threads. I know RP etiquette suggests you need to tell your RP partner when and why, and sure, if they ask politely you can give it a go - just know that a pre-written variant of 'not feeling it' is good enough. In my humble opinion, I think dropping boring or vexing threads is everyone's prerogative and doesn't require explanation. Again, no is a complete sentence.
Talk it out. If you like the thread but things took a turn you didn't like, it's time to bring the RP into the workshop. Something like 'Hey I really like our RP so far but I'm losing my spark, can we talk about course correcting where the plot is going?'
Make clear rules and revise them frequently. I'd also advise against spending said rules excusing or explaining why you don't like or want a certain thing - I cannot stress enough how your preferences are not up for debate.
Get comfy chasing. A lot of RP is about inviting others to play over and over and over. Rejection is a part of it. See if you can't find some element of self-care in it - taking rejection well is a great skill to practice in such a low stake environment.
Notice and celebrate the good stuff, instead of digging holes about the bad. Tell your co-players how great they are. Marvel at all the hard work you put into your muses and graphics. Admire your own blog.
Stop. Take a break. Check in with yourself. Do you actually need to face something in IRL? Do you need to rest? A snickers? A walk? Don't bother with posts á la 'offline for the day' - leave your options open to reduce guilt or shame if you want to poke your head back in.
Happy writing. 🌿
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pumpkin-writes · 6 months
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i'm sorry
jax teller x reader
warnings: mature language, some mildly steamy smoochin', mostly just soft, fluffy, sappy jax. you know, what the show robbed us of.
word count: 1.1k
notes: as requested by @thisreadswhatever
i hope you enjoy, love! i had so much fun writing this 🤭 thank you again so much for your request & positive feedback on my other jax stuff ❤️
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you had hardly slept. you tossed and you turned, you stared at the ceiling, you stared at the empty space in the bed that jax normally slept in. the two of you fought for hours the previous night, and ended up going to bed angry. you never went to bed angry at each other, and really you two didn't fight. but with all of the stress of the club, jax hadn't been himself lately, and he unfortunately took it out on you after dinner last night. what started as an admittedly snide comment from you about dirty dishes or something irrelevantly domestic like that turned into a screaming match between the two of you. you spewed things like "arrogant" and "mama's boy" at him, you finally broke down and told him how much you hated that he never talked to you about club stuff. and when he erupted back, he called you things like "nosey" and "ungrateful" all things that stung when you heard them, but what got you is when he called you a bitch. it wasn't what you were used to from him by any means, he typically adorned you with pet names and practically worshipped the ground you walked on.
jax knew he fucked up, the second the word left his lips. things with the club had really been getting to him, and suddenly, he felt like his world was falling apart. all his knew was the sons of anarchy, it was his legacy. but since he'd found and read his father's journals, he wasn't so sure of that anymore. he wasn't sure of most things, and he hated the uncertainty. he hated how on edge he'd been lately, working late, sometimes not even getting a chance to see you before you were off to bed. but he always came in and slipped under the covers with you and wrapped you up in his arms. god, he wished that's how last night went. just when he thought he'd been lucky enough to spend the evening with you having dinner, he had to go and fuck it up. he didn't even realize how fired up he'd gotten and how out of hand your argument got until he saw tears instantly swell up in your eyes in reaction to him calling you a bitch.
he took the liberty of sleeping on the couch, not knowing where to begin when it came to his apology. just as you barely slept, neither did jax. instead, he stared at the ceiling until the sun came up, just thinking about how he could make this up to you. was he really willing to lose you over an argument? an argument that shouldn't have even happened, he thought, but either way, the answer was absolutely not. by the time the birds started to chirp outside, he couldn't wait anymore. if he was going to do this, it had to be now, while everything he wanted to say was still fresh in his brain.
the sound of the bedroom door creaking open behind you made you go stiff. should you just act like you're asleep? before you could even decide, you felt the familiar feeling of the duvet lifting and jax sneaking under it. you bit your lip, unsure if you should just turn around and say something; tell him to leave, or tell him how upset you still were. but you stayed frozen on your side, waiting for his next move. that's when you felt him scooting closer in toward you, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. with a final, swift movement, he'd wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body flush against his.
"good morningggg," his voice was low, yet still possessed a sing-song tone that made the corner of your lips start to curl up into a smile. his hand started to work it's way up, then so gently down your arm, and jax found himself nuzzled into the crook of your neck. "i know you're awake." he mumbled into your skin before pressing a kiss to your neck, sending shivers down your spine, another kiss following not a moment after. "i'm sorry."
you sighed and finally gave up. you couldn't just sit there and pretend to sleep while he was trying so hard to get you to face him. although you still felt conflicted about all that had been said the night before, you hated not talking to him. not sleeping beside him. and he knew just how to make you weak, peppering your neck and shoulder with more and more kisses. it was kind of nice to have him so desperate for your attention and forgiveness. maybe you'd let him keep trying to prove how sorry he really was.
you shifted a bit in his grip before fluttering your eyes open to meet his baby blues. how are you supposed to stay mad at at face like that? but you kept it together, following through on making him work for it. "are you now?" the tone of your voice was so very obviously teasing him, and he knew it once he saw the cocky smirk you sported. if you wanted to play this game, he was down. "i am so," he began, all while he snaked his arms around your waist entirely, grabbing a proper hold of you. "so, so," his head dipped down and your foreheads met in the middle, "so sorry." seeing jax this way made you gush on the inside. you were starting to feel bad, almost, and you didn't see yourself playing hard to get much longer.
you were practically stuck in jax's arms, he'd been holding onto you pretty firmly and didn't intend on letting you go until he made things right with you. you'd been eye to eye, faces only inches from one another and all you could think about was his lips. his soft, beautiful, generous lips that you just couldn't take your eyes off of. and jax noticed, of course he did. he knew you wanted to kiss him, or him to kiss you, and hell, your wish was his command; no need to say it out loud.
without another second of hesitation, jax leaned into you and pushed his lips to yours hungrily. it's all you need to give in and accept his apology, returning his energy and moving in synchronization. you felt him softly bite your bottom lip, and it incites a soft moan to escape from your lip. you feel jax smile against your lips before pulling back from you, leaving you longing for him to keep going. "i knew i could make it up to you." his words made you roll your eyes, and all you could say in response was what you'd already been thinking all morning. "maybe you should be sorry more often."
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blossomwritesthings · 7 months
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞
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pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)
genre: dark academia college au. nonidol!hyunjin. enemies to lovers // academic rivals. angst. reader pov. smut - MDNI, 18+ only.
content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. kindaa toxic relationship between hyunjin and reader since they're enemies in uni. ANGST!! reader comes from a poor background and hyunjin is the uni dean's prodigy son. smut warnings below cut!!
word count: 10.6k (enjoy you filthy animals 😈)
summary: ever since you started studying at korean national university of arts in seoul, hwang hyunjin, the other top student of the school and the dean's son, has been an absolute thorn in your ass. although, it turns out that not all thorns are necessarily bad.
18+ warnings: dom!hyunjin x sub!reader. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends). fingering. dirty thoughts/fantasies are mentioned. degradation (whore, slut, bitch, etc). pet names (baby girl, sweetheart, doll face, etc). LOTS of hair pulling. BIG ownership/possession kink. breeding kink!!!. overstimulation. orgasm control. nipple/breast play. lots of dirty talk. subspace. loud sex. manhandling. humiliation kink. exhibitionism (fucking in a public library).
a/n: first of all, i'd just like to give a BIG shoutout to my dear friend @ahactress, for giving me the initial prompt to this about a month ago haha- without your help, I wouldn't be here right now honey!! 🤭💙 also, i'm sending all my love to my beautiful bestie @h0p3l3ssromantic, for encouraging me with her pretty words and her endless love... girl, you RULE and ilysm!!! 😫❤️ I don't know if it's public knowledge around these parts, but my dms on all my sns platforms are ALWAYS open for ya'll to spew your ramblings about my work haha - hmu on twt babes, I'm always down to chat~ ✨
💙 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ
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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
  The moment you saw the dark, heavy clouds swirling low in the sky as you walked to your Survey of Humanities class, you knew that the day was going to be a shitty one. Already, you had woken up with a raging headache from the all-nighter you had pulled the day before to finish all of your homework for the following week. 
 Besides, it was a Monday too, and you fucking hated Mondays. 
 For one thing, the start of the new week always meant being bombarded with loads of assignments from the four classes you were taking. Being a junior with a Liberal Arts major was not as easy as everyone thought it was — and you constantly felt like you could never catch up on all of the homework. 
 With two formal art classes, one on charcoal drawings and the other on watercolor techniques, and then two upperclassman Humanities classes, your schedule was packed with studying time. Sometimes, it was hard to even eat during the day, since you were so busy with your schoolwork. 
 But there was no way around it, no excuses that could be made. 
 You either continued to stay at the top of your classes, as one of the best students in your grade for your graduation year, or you didn’t. 
 Your mother didn’t sacrifice everything she had for you to fail so horribly at university. 
 So you were okay with the stress and deadlines. Because you wanted to make both her and yourself proud. 
 And yeah, maybe you also wanted to prove to your classmates that you could do it. 
 You especially wanted to brag about your success to a certain man… 
 Hwang Hyunjin. 
 He was slated to graduate in your same year and was studying Technical Art. And holy shit— was he an insufferable ass. Unfortunately, since the two of you shared such close majors, you had found yourself in one too many classes with him during your time at the Korean National University of Arts in Seoul. It also didn’t help that he was coined as one of the #1 students in the entire school, and did everything in his power to make everyone aware of this fact. 
 Especially you. 
 If he earned just two points more than you on an exam in the same class that you were taking together, he’d nonchalantly wave the white paper in front of you after the exam period, taunting you with his sly tongue and that cruel grin of his. 
 Most of the time, you managed to ignore his wicked teasing, sticking to yourself and your small group of study buddies. But on the rare occasion that he did get under your skin, you’d snap irrevocably and usually land yourself in the Dean’s office. 
 But of course, Hyunjin was also there because — news flash — he was the son of the fucking Dean of the university. 
 Usually, the meetings after your blowups were casual and spoken in soft voices, with Dean Hwang recounting the school’s long integrity policy to you, which you had already memorized in the back of your head after your third visit to his office. The entire time the Dean reminded you of how your ‘behavior was uncalled for in the situation,’ Hyunjin would be standing in the corner of his father’s office, arms folded across his chest and canting his head to the side as he studied you with a pleased little devilish sneer on his face. 
 After every single one of the meetings, he’d always try to catch up to you outside of his father’s office. This usually landed in you cursing him out under your breath and telling him to fuck off before you retreated into the shadows of one of the many hallways. 
 And as it just so happened, your Survey of Humanities class also had a certain raven-haired man constantly sitting in the farthest seat from the front of the lecture hall. 
 It was almost comical how good-looking he was, coupled with his genius brain. Because as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was incredibly smart… in both the arts and all other forms of academics. He aced every single quiz and exam he was given, got 100s on every technical art research essay he wrote, and was involved in practically every club there was on campus. 
 The girls of your grade fawned all over him, and even the freshmen were weak to his looks whenever he’d pass them in the hallway. He looked right out of an early 2000s fashion magazine, with his model-like physic, long, shaggy black hair that perfectly framed his face and curled at the nape of his neck, not to mention the expensive designer clothes he was always seen in. 
 You had never seen him dress like the other guys of his same age — had never seen him clad in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a worn oversized graphic tee. Instead, he rolled up to the curb of the university in his cherry red 2023 Rolls Royce, dressed to the nines in fitted coats, light-washed designer jeans, and crisp white button-downs. 
 Hwang Hyunjin had been the school’s ultimate heartthrob for as long as you could remember, and you had heard rumors of the kind of things he did with his lovers — taking his girlfriends out to expensive restaurants in the heart of the city, before bringing them back to his luxurious apartment and fucking them late into the night. Usually, you tended to ignore the dating and sex part of your arch nemeses' life, and instead just focused on beating him at his own game of academics. 
 And during that early Friday morning in the middle of October, as you strolled through the doors of the lecture hall and your eyes scanned over the students already seated, you caught sight of him.
 Dressed in a casual, brown turtleneck and dark-washed jeans, he looked like he had just walked straight out of an autumn edition of GQ Men. He was seated in his usual place, legs crossed and hands busy scribbling away notes on his iPad. As you floated beside him and towards your seat at the very back of the hall, you caught the scent of him — a mix of earthy musk and dark roasted coffee beans. 
 He didn’t pay you the time of day as you flitted past him and took out your notebooks once you were seated down. Thankfully, he seemed to be choosing the route of ignoring you for the day, much to your relief. 
 Soon, the professor strode into the lecture hall and began the class. For a while, he droned on about the midterm that all of the students had taken the week before, and how he was impressed with the class’ results. “Although, two students in particular outshined everyone else,” he began, his eyes scanning the lecture hall until they landed on Hyunjin seated just two rows before you. “Hyunjin, excellent work — it’s quite rare that I see a student score a 100 on the midterm,” then his focus was floating upward and landing on you. “Y/N, you’re short essay for the midterm was superb, and your choice of art analysis was a very unique one for sure.” 
 Just as the professor was focusing back on the rest of the course material, you could sense someone’s gaze trained on you. Staring forward, you caught a glimpse of him shooting you a snarky grin. You glared daggers into his skull, just wishing that he’d get shot in the foot and keel over in pain at that moment. 
 He always liked to gloat when he got a higher score than you on the tests, and you both knew that he had done better on the test overall — since the professor only mentioned his 100 and not yours. But apparently, your midterm essay was a hell of a lot better than his. 
 Sticking out your tongue at him playfully, you rolled your eyes before folding your arms across your chest and turning your attention back on the slides that the professor was ticking through. Hyunjin got under your skin so much he sometimes felt like a fucking disease — burrowed so deeply inside your veins, it was almost impossible to cut out the hatred. 
 “For this week’s assignment, you guys will be paired up into groups of two to create a joint presentation on the topic of ‘The Descent into Madness,’” As soon as you heard the professor mention splitting the class into groups, you felt your heart leap inside your chest. You only hoped that you wouldn’t be paired up with him. “Using your textbooks as a guideline, I want all of you to choose one specific piece of art from any period you want and conduct deep research into the mad aspects of it — dive into as much detail about the formal elements as you’d like, but make sure to follow the grading rubric and cite all academic sources. I’ve posted the list of paired groups on the bulletin board up here near the projector, so make sure to check it before you leave class today.” 
 You tuned out all other information the professor gave about the week’s assignment, too focused on seeing who you were paired with. As soon as he dismissed class, you were shooting up from your seat and hoisting your heavy tote bag across your shoulder. 
 Flitting down the stairway, you made it to the bulletin board before all of the other students did. They were idling around because no one gave two shits about who they were paired with. No one except for you. 
 “Please, please, please—” You prayed in a whispered tone under your breath as your eyes scanned the matched columns of students. When you came upon your name and saw who was next to it, it felt like the ground at your feet had opened right up and sucked you in entirely. “Fuck my life.” Heart dropping into the pit of your stomach, your palm squeezed a little tighter around the strap of your bag. 
 “Oh shit— looks like the professor decided to give you a fighting chance by pairing you up with the best student in the entire school.” You heard Hyunjin’s silky voice say from somewhere behind you. 
 Swinging around on your heels, you caught a glimpse of his sardonic, wide smirk, as his eyes scanned the look of sheer anger on your face. Giving a dry, humorless chuckle, he shoved his hands into his pockets and canted his head to the side in a quizzical kind of way. 
 “We’re only going to ace this project because of me— and let’s be clear here, I’m the better writer out of the two of us.” You said in a low voice, pointing an accusing finger at him in utter disgust. You could feel your brows pulling together from the rage that was building up inside of you. And all from the thought of being forced to work with him. 
 “Yeah, but I’m the better test taker.” 
 “Fuck you.” 
 Hyunjin chuckled wickedly, the tip of his blush pink tongue coming out and wetting a corner of his plush bottom lip. “Oh honey, I’m sure you wish you could.” 
 Already, you could tell that he was egging you on. Trying to get your goad so that you’d explode and be dragged to the Dean’s office. So that he could stare down at you with that same smug look on his face as his precious little daddy rattled off the university’s code of conduct. 
 Well fuck that bullshit. 
 Seeing too much red, you decided to excuse yourself from the equation before you said something horrible that got you sent into the Dean’s office again or even worse — kicked from the class. 
 “I’ll see you on Monday night at ten in the library,” you said in finality, squinting your eyes up at him and just wishing you could wring your hands around his perfect little neck. “Don’t be late.” 
 “I don’t take orders from you, sweetheart.” 
 “For now you sure fucking do.” 
 Then you were turning around and pushing out of the lecture hall, practically running down the corridor as fast as you could, heart pounding in your chest because… what the hell were you going to do? 
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 That entire weekend leading up to the Monday night that you planned to spend with Hyunjin, you just about lost your mind over the worry of it all. Would he continue to be an asshole to you the entire time? Would he work well with you and compromise on things? How would everything go? 
 You were so stressed about the entire thing that you practically drove your roommate Felix insane with annoyance. Late Sunday morning, when you were making circles around your living room couch as you stressed about everything, he finally burst out in a loud outcry. 
  “Y/N! You seriously need to take a chill pill, you’re going to run holes right into the fucking carpet!” He said in an exasperated tone, muting the show that he was watching on the large flatscreen TV. 
 Peering up at him with wide, guilty eyes, you offered him a meek smile. “I’m sorry, Lix— it’s just… you know how much I hate Hyunjin and I—” 
 Felix rolled his eyes at you, completely fed up with your bullshit at that moment. “Yes, yes, I know. You’ve told me about a million times at this point. But like… don’t let it get to you, yeah? Just go out there and do your very best,” his eyes flitted back to the TV as he un-muted his show. “I mean… how bad could working with Hwang Hyunjin really be? Besides you, he’s one of the top students in the entire school.” 
 But he didn’t know Hyunjin like you did. 
 No one did. 
 They didn’t see the cruel side to him, the mean side. 
 They didn’t hear the words he’d mumble to you with venom after a big test or the taunting he’d throw your way if you one-upped him in some way. 
 Others didn’t see the dark looks he’d give you after classes or the way he’d practically talk behind your back each time you passed him in the hallway — whispering to his groupies and making all the guys chuckle heartily. 
 So yeah, working with him was a pretty fucking big deal. 
 Nonetheless, you took Felix’s advice and tried to relax as much as you could before the start of the new week. You studied the material that you wanted to research for the project, deciding to focus on Hamlet’s Ophelia for your analysis. 
 And if Hyunjin didn’t want to go with that character, well… too bad.
 By the time Monday night rolled around, you felt more prepared than ever before and stepped into the Library’s main doors with settled ease. The university’s library was your favorite place on campus and had been the location for many of your long night study sessions over your time in school. With its dark gothic architecture outside and its sweeping gables, it was a true sight to behold. Not to mention the cozy atmosphere of the interior — all of the cozy nooks and crannies of the place, filled with warm candlelight and large chandeliers and settees made everything feel so mysterious and relaxing. 
 You strode through the isles filled with books, noticing how it was almost empty of any other student. That’s why you liked coming to the place late at night because it was relatively devoid of life and incredibly quiet. And you liked the quiet — it made it easy for you to focus on your studies. Finally, you stumbled upon a spacious table tucked into the very corner of one part of the place on the upper floor, with a large bay window just in front of the wooden table. 
 With a glance outside the pane, you noticed how the darkening sky had opened up to reveal a sheet of heavy rain — it pelted down on the few students that were passing by the outside of the library on the sidewalk there, as they ran for cover. Methodically, you brought out your supplies — booting up your laptop and positioning your notebook and pens just so. 
 Checking your phone, the screen flashed that it was fifteen minutes past ten o’clock already. Was he not even planning on showing up? Was he going to completely bail on you and instead take you down by sabotaging the entire thing? 
As you sat down in one of the cushiony, velvet-lined chairs, your mind began to race with all of the possibilities of what Hyunjin might be stewing up to take you down. 
 Then, almost like your thoughts had summoned him, you heard footsteps at your back and turned to see Hyunjin rounding the corner of the tall bookshelves that were lined on either side of your chosen table. With one glance at him, you noticed the soaked-through fabric of his tan coat and the way his dark hair curled around the nape of his neck with moisture. He must’ve gotten caught in the rain and that’s why he was late. 
 “I thought you were going to bail on me entirely.” 
 Giving you a swarthy look, he plopped down into the seat just across from you and threw his heavy book bag atop the table. “Good evening to you as well.” He grumbled, slipping off his coat and showcasing the wetness hidden just underneath there. His light, cream-colored button-down was almost sheer from the rainwater… highlighting his muscular shoulder blades and the tips of his pecks. 
 “Didn’t you know it was supposed to rain heavily tonight?” 
 Not even paying you another glance, he focused on pulling out his supplies. “I’m not the fucking weatherman, I don’t regularly check up on shit like that.” 
 “Well, you should— maybe you wouldn’t ruin so many of your precious, rich boy clothes if you did.” 
 At that, his hands stopped moving and he stared up at you with slitted eyes. Giving your own choice of outfit a long once over, the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Well damn— are you jealous or something?” You weren’t particularly dressed up, opting for a comfortable pair of black sweatpants and a warm violet turtleneck top.
 “Let’s just focus on getting to work.” You shot back, hands typing away at your computer keyboard. “Did you figure out a piece you want to analyze?” 
 “Yeah, Hamlet’s Ophelia.” 
 His words were silky and smooth against your ears, but his answer is what got you shooting your gaze up to his again. Mouth dropping open a little bit in surprise, you cleared your throat from the sudden quietness between you. “Oh— uhm, I was thinking the same,” you began, opening up the Word document that you had already started working on that past weekend. “It would probably be a good idea to study Hamlet’s character too since he's the catalyst of her problems.” 
 “No, he isn’t. She already had them to begin with — he just heightened their outcome.” 
 You were so taken aback by his comment, that it took a few seconds for your brain to process everything. But when it finally clicked, you were gaping up at him in astonishment. “I’m sorry, what? You’re going to blame her for the fact that Hamlet was the sole cause of it all?” Your voice was steadily rising, as you began to get irritated by his suggestion. 
 Hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly, as he scribbled down a few things in his notebook. “I mean, yeah. She already had a history of mental disorders, her death was bound to happen anyway.” He matched your tone, words growing louder and ringing out across the small expanse of the library that the two of you were in. 
 “I seriously cannot believe you right now.” You began, shaking your head in anger as you tried to focus on your bright computer screen again. But his argument just rubbed you the wrong way entirely, and you found yourself speaking up again. “I didn’t realize how much of a fucking misogynist you were. But oh, wait— it’s perfectly clear now if the way you treat me is anything to go off of.”
 “I’m not a misogynist, Y/N.” The way his tone curled around the sound of your name did something funny to the depths of your soul. He had never called your name outright like that, never addressed you head-on. And it was both weird and oddly satisfying. “All I’m saying is that her descent into madness was pretty warranted since she was in an already heightened state of emotions.” 
 You gave him a deep glare, tilting your head to the side in annoyance. “Just say you hate women, it’s okay, Hyunjin. I won’t bug you about it.” 
 “Like hell, you won’t.” He mumbled under his breath, long fingers typing out something on his computer. 
 And that was enough to completely set you off. 
 There were no other students around, no professors to tell you off, and no Deans to harp on you about correct student conduct. 
 “Seriously, what the hell is your problem?! You’re so fucking annoying and a total piece of shit. I honestly have no idea how you’re at the top of the school when all you do is belittle others!” This time, you were shouting outright. Throwing him an ominous glare and shutting your computer with a resounding thud. 
 Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, lengthy arms folded across his chest as the rain pelted against the misty window just at his back. “Oh, and like you’re any better? You always love to shove your accomplishments in everyone else’s faces— you ever stop to think how that makes others feel?” He was yelling now too, stroking a hand through his long locks that were steadily dripping with tiny droplets of rainwater. 
 Shaking your head in disappointment, you took in a resounding deep breath. “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew you’d be an asshole the entire time and I knew we wouldn’t get any work done,” as you said the words, you were already gathering up your things, shoving them into your bag, and leveling him with a cold stare. “So let’s just forget it - this - okay? Just… work on it by yourself and then we can compile our info together the day of and—” 
 “Sit down, Y/N.” 
 The way his command slipped out from between his lips in a low, gravelly voice shook something loose deep within your very being. For a moment, you almost felt compelled to listen to him. Like under a mystical enchantment, your limbs wanted to move on their own accord and seat yourself down again. But the rational part of your brain overtook all other thoughts as you stood your ground and hovered just next to the table. 
 “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not your daddy— you don’t have the authority of the Dean.” 
 For the last few moments, he hadn’t been looking at you, eyes instead trained on his computer still. Almost like, the entire ordeal didn’t bother him that much. Like you were a minor inconvenience to him in the grand scheme of his rich, privileged life. 
 But all at once, he was tipping his head towards the high rafters of the library’s ceiling, stare catching with yours. The stormy look you saw there, dancing around in his brown irises, forced your heart to leap in the pit of your throat. 
 “Don’t make me say it again.” 
 “I’m never going to listen to you, so tough luck, fucker.”
 Taking in a deep breath, his entire body shuddering with the motion, he held your gaze and motioned with a tilt of his head to the seat in front of him that you had just gotten up from. “Sit. Down.” 
 And like a single crack suddenly appearing in a delicate vase, your mind was losing all conscious thought and you were moving without any other thought. His seething, low tone overtook your entire system, his focus on you sending a shock of shivers up the length of your spine again and again, unrelenting. 
 “What?” You asked, noticing the surprised expression on his face from the way that you had fucking listened to him once, seated in your chair again. “I was tired of hearing your stupid demands.” 
 Hyunjin flipped through a few pieces of paper in his notebook before he pushed it your way. “Give that a look over, it’s the notes I took on Ophelia over the weekend.” The idea of him studying for the project just like you had done forced your mind to run rampant with all kinds of thoughts. Like, was he also stressing out about the meeting like you had been doing?
 “I already told you— we’re not working together.” 
 “For Christ’s sake, just give it up!” Hyunjin exclaimed in a loud voice, throwing his hands up into the air in mock defeat. “You act like this is the deciding project of our grade— it’s a fucking weekly assignment. All we have to do is our best, which will be pretty damn good if we’re both working on it.” 
 “So then you admit that I’m a good student.” You raised an eyebrow his way, fingers slowly taking ahold of his notebook and playing with the edges of the paper.
 Taking in a deep sigh, he pointed at the notebook in front of you. “Just focus— okay? I want to get as much work done as possible tonight.” 
 “Fine, but don’t blame me if we get a bad grade because we rush it.” You said, finally raising the white flag of surrender and taking in the contents of his notebook. The notes were detailed and insanely good, highlighting certain formal aspects of Ophelia’s character and the overarching themes of her madness. “Wow— this is… really good.” You said in a quiet voice, almost hoping that he wouldn’t hear it. 
 Rummaging through your nearby bag, you pulled out a pink highlighter to take some notes, and your chosen lollipop for the night, mango flavored. You liked to reward yourself with a fun treat of candy whenever you did late-night studying sessions since the sugar kept your energy levels high and helped to keep you focused. Ever since you were a little girl, you seemed to concentrate better when your mind wasn’t entirely on the content you were studying. 
 “I mean, I’m not coined as one of the school’s top students for nothing,” Hyunjin remarked in a sarcastic tone. You chose to ignore his comment and instead focus on his neat handwriting and the way his words fit in perfectly to the columns of the notebook paper. 
 Everything about him was perfect — from his looks to his academic success to his damn handwriting. Hell, what wasn’t he good at? 
 For one thing, being a nice fucking person. 
 And he seemingly couldn’t grasp the idea of how not to be an asshole to people he didn’t like.
 Unfortunately, you were categorized in his list of people that he hated. 
 As you flipped to the next page in his notebook, your tongue swirled around the lollipop in your mouth. The sugary sweetness of the artificial mango flavor coated your tongue deliciously, and it awakened all of your senses in the best way possible. The minutes seemed to tick by, as you began to make notes based on Hyunjin’s research from his notebook, turning away from the paper and typing into the Word document that you had started for the project.
 Faintly, in the back of your mind, you could hear Hyunjin’s soft inhales and exhales, as he focused on his research. All else was quiet in the library, what with it being completely void of life on a Monday at eleven at night. You could distinctly pick out the sounds of rainfall pitter-pattering just outside the large window behind Hyunjin’s seat, as the night drew on in a heavy mist of dew and moisture. 
 “Why do you hate me so much?” 
 Hyunjin’s words were faint and broke you out of your daze of thought. You had been frantically writing down some of your critiques about Ophelia as a character, and your head shot up from your computer to catch a glimpse of him staring back at you. 
 You didn’t know how long he had been like that, sitting back in his chair, long, raven hair a wavy mess around his face and eyes a little bleary from a mixture of sheer exhaustion and that… darkness that you could never quite pinpoint. You had only ever seen him direct such swarthy looks at you, and that fact disheartened you a lot.
 “I think the real question you should be asking is what’s not to hate about you.” You deadpanned, giving him a deep frown as you poked your lollipop into the corner of one of your cheeks, tucking it away for the moment. 
 Folding his arms across his chest in that abrasive way that he always did around you, he tilted his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, spill the tea.” 
 Taking in a deep breath to stave off your rising nerves and irritation with the man before you, you carded a few fingers through your hair. “To start with, you’re a complete and total asshole.” 
 “I think we’ve already touched on this point by now.” 
 His retort left you to stare daggers into his eyes, wishing someone would just come up behind him and slit his throat because you sure did want to at that moment. But you also supposed that the Dean of the university wouldn’t take a liking to you murdering his son. 
 “Secondly, you’re always stuck up and hard-headed and annoying and… and immature.” 
 Hyunjin blew out a deep, long whisper. “Damn, spare my ego some, will ya?” 
 But you weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon. He had started the engine of the train, and now you were rolling down the tracks of sheer rising anger and all of the pent-up rage that you had felt towards him for the past three years. “And you’re right okay? I am fucking jealous. I’m so jealous of you that I can’t breathe sometimes— you haven’t had to work a day in your life for your position, yet I’ve had to scrape by on my hands and knees, clawing— begging at life to grant me just one fucking break.” You weren't even yelling. Instead, the words just come out hushed and all too grave. 
 Like, if anyone else but him heard them, you’d crumble into a pile of ash and disintegrate into thin air, never to be seen again. Because it was fucking embarrassing, to be so affected by him still, even after all of these years. 
 He stayed silent, watching as you flayed your hands around in the air in your exasperation. You were fed up with your life and the hold that he had over it. You were finally at your breaking point and you had had enough. 
 And you think that at that moment, he had also seen and acknowledged that, staying silent to let all of the words spew out of you like an erupting volcano that had been bound to blow from the very start. 
 “But you? You get everything handed to you on a pretty, silver platter because your daddy is wealthy and you're drop-dead gorgeous and practically have the brain of a neuroscientist. Meanwhile, I was raised by a poor single mother in the slums of Seoul and the only way I got into this university in the first place is because I busted my ass throughout middle and high school to earn the top student’s place,” you pointed a finger between the two of you. Almost like, the tip of it was sharp enough, you could cut right through him. Blade tearing through sinew and flesh and bones. “And then you dare to come around these parts, acting like you own everything, trying to put me in my place. When in reality, you’re the one that needs to be put in your place. Someone needs to knock you down a few pegs, and I’ve always thought… why not me?” 
 For a moment, nothing else happens after that. 
 And irrationally, you’re suddenly afraid of him. 
 Of what he might do — what he might say and to whom — with this newfound information about you. 
 Hardly anyone at school knew about your personal life and struggles. You tended to stay to yourself and instead focus on your studies instead of going out to late-night parties or hitting up the local clubs. And you were an extremely private person, to begin with. You saw no point in pouring out your life's sob story to people you would never see again after four years. 
 But all at once, you wondered if Hwang Hyunjin was a dangerous man. 
 If he was someone who would use your personal information against you. 
 And if the last three years were anything to go off of, you wouldn’t put it past him. 
 “Fuck— I shouldn’t have said all of that,” you grumbled, jamming your fingers into your eye sockets and scrubbing at your lids. “Just… forget all of this, yeah? Forget I said anything.” Then you were standing up from your seat for the second time that night, heart leaping in the pit of your chest as you once again gathered your things into your bag. “It’s late anyways. I should head home and keep studying for my other classes. We can meet up some other time for this, it’s not due til, what… Sunday? That gives us plenty of—”
 “Y/N.” Just like before, the sound of your name on his tongue caused you to pause entirely, limbs halting their movement of shoving your computer into your bag. “Just— shut up, yeah?” His voice came out softer than you expected it would, forcing a shiver down the length of your spine. 
 “Don’t call me that.” 
 “Don’t call you what?” 
 “Y/N.” 
 “Why, because it makes you feel things?” He asked in a gravelly voice. You were avoiding even looking at him at that moment, hands a little shaky as you anxiously started to suck on your lollipop again, rolling it around in the corner of your cheek. “What are you so afraid of?” 
 “You, okay?! It’s always been you!” Your outburst was a lot louder than you expected it to be, ringing across the space between you and echoing in the far distance of the library’s upper-level floor. 
 A beat of silence lapsed between the two of you, and you trained your gaze on a corner of the room, studying the small dust bunny that stood there, completely still and lifeless. In that moment, you could relate to it quite a bit. Lost and confused. Wanting to move away, but not being able to for some weird reason. 
 Hyunjin’s old wooden settee creaked in the silence, as he shifted in his position. “To be honest, I’m scared of you too.” And just like that, your head was snapping his way and your eyes were widening in surprise. “For one, I’m scared of that stupid thing.” With his dark eyes, he motioned towards your mouth. To the lollipop that you were dutifully sucking on, in and out, in and out. You stopped altogether when you realized why he had been so quiet during your studying session. He hadn’t been studying — he had been focusing on you, on the candy in your mouth. Feeling self-conscious about it, you took it out of your mouth and laid it down on the table. “And I’m scared of how you make me feel— crazed out of my mind, all of the time. Like a sick fucking plague, you inhabit my everything… from the moment I wake to the moment I ease, you’re all I can think about, all I can dream about. And I hate it so fucking much that it kills me a little bit more every single day.” 
 “Hyunjin, I—”
 His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull, head tipping back in delight as his lips parted just slightly. “Yes— fuck, say it again.” 
 “Say… what?” 
 “You know.” 
 Heart leaping wildly in your throat, and broken butterflies waning in the depths of your stomach, your mouth was moving on its own accord. “Hyunjin.” 
 Like a trigger being pulled back from a gun and flitting the weapon into action, the bullet was shot across the distance between the two of you. And the bullet was your words — you calling out his name. 
 In an instant, he was a flurry of motion before you. All designer clothes soaked from rainwater and long, wavy hair that still had droplets of water at the tips. He was a flash of milky skin hidden underneath a sheer, wet button-down. The faint, waning moonlight shining through the window pane cast an ominous, angelic-like halo around his tall, built frame. 
 And by the time you could breathe again, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Pinned up against the nearest tall bookshelf that reached up into the height of the library's ceiling. One strong hand pinning your two hands against the wood above your head, while the other was positioned just unearth your chin, holding your jaw bone and stroking the flesh there with a gentle thumb. 
 “Now tell me you feel nothing at all, tell me you fucking hate me with your entire being, that you’ll always hate me, and that you think I’m a deprived cunt who needs to be murdered ruthlessly in front of everyone I love.” His words were hushed, their meaning brutal. His face was so close to yours, that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. Leaning into you, he drove his middle a little closer to the part of your legs. 
 Breath catching painfully between your windpipes and the lump in your throat, you stared up at him with blurry vision. Your attention was growing fuzzy at the edges, as you could do nothing more but hone in on… him. Subconsciously, you could feel the mango sweetness of your lollipop coating your tongue again and again as you swallowed. 
 “I—I hate you so fucking much, Hwang Hyunjin.” 
 He pressed into you a little further, breathing in your scent and closing his eyes as his head tipped close to one part of your neck. Mouth hovering over the shell of your ear, he whispered, “Say it again, sweetheart, with a little more passion this time.” 
 “I… I hate you so much, I can’t function with the thought of you existing in the same lifetime as me.” 
 You felt him moving against you then, hand moving away from your jaw and coming around one of your hips, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your black sweatpants. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, sweetheart…” He started, mouth hovering over that space just behind your ear, warm breath fanning against your exposed gooseflesh there. “I won’t hurt you— it was never my intention in the first place. It was… just a fun game to me, to toy around with you. But I never wanted to actually fucking hurt you.” 
 You could feel your mind and heart racing in tandem, going a mile a minute, as you took in all of his words. Because what, the actual fuck? What was he saying? And why was he saying it? And why did you feel yourself crumbling from it all, your resolve breaking down into dust and getting whisked away to the future of Neverland? 
 “I never meant to make you cry,” He said slowly, pulling away from your face just a tiny bit to gauge your reaction to his confession. You gaped up at him, completely speechless in your unadulterated wonder. “Sure, I wanted to make you cry— but not in the cruel kind of way… not in the way that most people would like to do.”
 His insinuation, his innuendo there, jumbled something around deep inside of your spirit. And you could practically feel your knees buckling underneath you from the reality of it all. From the fact that he was never truly set out to cause you permanent damage. And so far, he hadn’t. All he had done was make an ass out of himself and be a continual thorn in your side. But he wasn’t necessarily entirely cruel, and you never truly suspected that he’d do something catastrophically damaging. 
 “But all you have to do is tell me— tell me you never thought about me or dreamed about me or wondered about me, and I’ll be gone forever. You’ll never hear, or see me again. It’ll be like I never existed in the first place and I—”
 “I can’t fathom a life without you in it,” you suddenly blurted out, already feeling the hint of crimson blooming beneath your cheeks and at the tip of your nose. You peered up at him, staring into those depthless, chocolate-brown eyes, reading the dancing emotions there. “Sure, I might despise your guts at times, but… I also think you’re a pretty amazing guy. And… I have to admit that sometimes, I do think about you when I’m alone, at night, and laying in my bed.” 
 His hand clutched a little tighter at your hip then, his fingers intertwining with yours and continuing to hoist your arms up and above your head. “Oh yeah? What do you imagine when you think about me so late into the night?” He rasped out, the sound of his voice grating against your ears and sending flames to burst across the entirety of your veins. 
 “Your face, mostly— how your lips would feel and how you’d taste and what you’d sound like if—”
 After that, you didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence. 
 He was honing in on you like a vulture to its prey, moving with such swiftness — like a phantom in the night, like a monster hidden underneath the bed, like a selkie in the depths of the ocean. 
 As it turns you, your dreams about him were accurate. 
 Because his plush lips did feel like pure heaven. 
 They pushed against yours, his mouth fitting atop yours like something that was carved into the universe — something that was almost meant to be. He was devouring you whole — heart and mind and soul and body. 
 And with each press of his silky lips, you fell down the hole of darkness and heat just a little bit more. Then the tip of his tongue was poking out and tracing the line of your mouth and you fell into him, fingers clawing at his that still had your arms held up high above your head, desperately searching for purchase as your legs threatened to give out underneath you. 
 When his tongue plowed into the small part between your lips, you let out a breathless moan. The kind that had been hidden deep, buried, and un-satiated for so fucking long. By the time he was tasting you, his hands had released your arms and you were scrambling for something to hold. Desperately, in your haste of arousal and temptation, you were clutching at the cool, wet fabric of his cream-colored button-down, holding on for dear life as his hands tightened around your waist and hoisted you up against the bookshelf further. 
 Your spine crammed into the wooden shelves there, as you wrapped your legs around his torso, yanking him closer with each passioned kiss that he gave you. Again and again, he drew those same, sinful sounds out of you. Just like all of the times before, he was playing a sick kind of game with you. But this time, it wasn’t all that bad. This time, you were quite enjoying yourself. 
 As your parted legs held his hips close to your frame, you could feel the hardness there, in the center of him. Just aching to be released. And suddenly, you came to terms with the fact that the wetness between your legs was rapidly growing with each kiss that he gave you. 
 He sucked on your lips like they were his lifeline — and you wondered, in that moment, how he’d treat the rest of you — how much attention he’d offer the rest of your body. 
 “J-Jin, I—” The shortened nickname slipped out between your lips when the two of you parted to catch your breaths. And when you noticed his swollen mouth, you were almost positive that yours looked just as bad, if not worse. 
 “What, baby doll?” He hummed, mouth moving away from yours entirely and coming close to the line of your jaw. You blushed wildly at the pet name, liking the way it sounded in his silky voice. He moved aside the thick fabric of your violet-colored knit turtleneck with his nose, lips attaching to the skin of your neck and suckling like a vampire drunken on the crimson of his lover. “What is it that you need right now?” 
 Your hands were scrambling for him, finding purchase in his dark roots and pulling just a tad bit there. The abuse to his scalp made him hiss out, warm breath painting across the heated flesh of the column of your neck brilliantly. “N—Need you t—to—” But your words were cut short by the way one of his hands was moving away from your waist, traveling under the hemline of your sweater, a long, nimble finger dancing across your belly button and rising to the center of your stomach. 
 “You need me, hmm?” He mused lowly, mouth having journeyed down to the skin closest to your clavicle, leaving violet-hued marks that would surely survive into the next few days. “Need me to fuck you, right? Need me to take you so irrevocably well right here and right now… can’t wait any longer, yeah?” As he spoke the words into existence, his naughty hand was already finding its way toward the lace of your bralette, skirting across its edges. Then, a single finger dipped underneath the elastic there, skirting up the length of your breast until it was resting against your pebbled nub. “Such a naughty little thing… who knew that the university’s prodigy just needed a good fucking, huh? That all she wanted was to get fucked open against the library bookshelves.” 
 You were gasping out in pure bliss, fingers digging in a little harder into his long wisps of hair as his hands began to explore your chest. Brushing, twisting, pulling. Then doing it all over again with the other mound. “Y—Yeah,” you managed to spit out, trembling underneath him, legs wounding tighter around his waist, bringing him ever closer. “Can you do that… fuck me? I need it so bad right now, I can’t handle it if you just leave me like this…” You were practically begging out the words, so desperate in your pleas that you were almost certain your groveling was boosting his already inflated ego. 
 “I only fuck good girls. Girls who don’t call me an asshole and don’t say they hate me.” 
 At that, your eyes were tearing open in a mix of surprise and despair. But the way that his hand didn’t stop touching your breasts, still playing with them, told you everything you needed to know at that moment. 
 You wiggled your hips slowly, grinding into the hardness between his dark-washed jeans. “Stop touching me then— stop kissing me and stop looking at me,” you began, taunting him with your movements and the way that you spoke in a velvety tone, all soft and delicate and innocent. When what the two of you were doing was anything but innocent. “But you can’t, right? Can’t get the thought of me out of your head— of what this pussy would feel like clenched around your cock, squeezing you for dear life as you fuck into me for the hundredth time in a single day—” 
 He was cutting off your words with his quick hands, shedding off your sweater and bralette in one go. Then he was bending down slowly, hands coming up to cup your chest. He stared up at you from his crouched position, watching the feelings rove across your face as he blew hot hair against one of your nipples. 
 “Just fucking shut up already bitch,” he said in a low grumble, as his hand came over your tit, mouth melding onto the warm skin there effortlessly. His other hand was busy playing with your neglected breast, squeezing there a little bit harder when his teeth grazed one of your nipples, tongue lapping at the bud. “You’re only to speak when spoken to, you understand me?” He asked, pulling away from your breast and making a crude, wet sucking noise as he did so.
 Glaring down at him through lust-filled eyes, you sneered his way. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, asshole.” Hands gripping onto his hair a little bit, you pushed his face closer to your chest as he began to work on your other breast, leaving a ring of wetness as he went. “And don’t call me bitch.”
 You could feel him smirk against your skin, his low chuckle vibrating against your gooseflesh and sending ripples of energy to course through your veins. “Mhm— why not? Your pussy sure seems to love the name.” He mused sadistically, completely unlatching from your breast, hands finding their way back at your hips. 
 “What are you even talk—”
 But he didn’t leave any more room for questions, one hand ripping away from your waist and covering your covered centre. “This, right here,” he said in a low whisper, fingers cupping your warmth there, and you could practically feel the essence dripping out of you, just behind your thin panties and sweatpants. “Bet you’ll get even more soaked when I call you it again.”
 “You know nothing about me.” The words came out garbled and wobbly, as he maneuvered your sweatpants down and off of your legs entirely. “Y—You don’t know my body.” 
 He threw you a sardonic kind of smile, leaning into the side of you, lips caressing the shell of your ear as he spoke in soft tones. “Yeah, but I’ve done a hell of a lot of observing over the years…” At his words, you could feel his hand nearing your middle again, and you involuntarily parted your legs in want. 
 When his fingers came in contact with the lace of your panties, you had to pull out your biggest bout of self-control to hold in the moan that wanted to escape from you. His movements were expert level, as he pushed the fabric off to the side, running a single finger up your lips, feeling for that small spot at the very top. Circling his thumb around there, his other fingers worked at your entrance, and before you knew it, he was pressing two long digits into you. 
 “F—Fuck—“ You groaned at the feeling of it all, falling into him and clawing at his shoulders that were still covered in that damp button-up shirt. “Hyunjin.” You were moaning out his name before you even realized it, hips jutting up slowly against his hand, your head getting thrown back as his fingers searched and found that warm, gooey spot deep inside of you. 
 “See? I know exactly what the fuck I’m doing,” he muttered, lips coming around the side of your neck and suckling violet marks into the skin there. “So be a good bitch and shut up for me, yeah? Take it like a good girl— like the good whore that I know you are.” 
 You couldn’t even protest against him using the name again, because, in all honesty, you did like it. It felt dirty and wrong but so very fucking right at the same time. It caused your walls to spasm against the three fingers he had stuck inside of you, as he pumped in and out with a rabid kind of pace. The sound of his movements forced shivers down the length of your spine, as his thumb pressed into your clit a little more. 
 “Y—You gotta fuck me now, Jin—” You mumbled, already reaching the edge of orgasm from the way that he was steadily working you up with his hand alone. Half of his fingers were buried deep inside of you and the others were desperately clutching at your hip bone to bring you closer to him. The sounds he was pulling from you, both wetness and moans of pleasure, were other-worldly. “N—Need to feel your cock inside of me, right fucking now.” 
 In your daze of lust, you found yourself clasping at the buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing them and sliding his damp shirt off of his frame. What lay underneath was a chiseled chest — a muscular abdomen, biceps that rippled with each breath he took, and a dark trail that led towards his dick. You ran your fingers down the milky expanse of his chest, marveling at how soft and chiseled everything felt. 
 Sighing out quietly, you stared up at him with pleading eyes. “You’re so fucking hot… always knew you would be.” That made Hyunjin smirk with satisfaction, as he tipped into you for a breathless kiss. 
 While his lips captured your own, you could feel his hands working at your panties, sliding them off your legs and leaving you completely bare. Then you heard the clanking noise of a belt coming undone, as he unmistakably rid himself of his pants and boxers. 
 Then he was parting from your mouth, focus turned down to where the centers of your bodies met together. Your mouth fell open at the sight of… him. All seven-and-a-half inches, long shaft curving upward in arousal and precum leaking out of the pretty red tip. A single vein ran down the side, bulging from his unchecked want.
 “Need you to be nice and loud for me, yeah?” He growled in that low tone of his, as he guided himself near your entrance. “Let the entire school know who you belong to— scream my name, bitch, and tell everyone who fucking owns you.” 
 His words jumbled around inside of your mind, making you feel lightheaded as he slowly began to slide into you. You widened your legs a little bit for him, wrapping them around his waist as he quickly bottomed out. The stretch was only slight and left you hissing with relief when he was fit into you at the hilt.
 Without any warning, he was sliding out almost completely, before thrusting back in, hitting into you so roughly, that your spine jammed into the wooden bookshelf at your back. And just like that, he was setting a hellish pace. One that was sure to make you crumble before him — fall apart at the seams. 
 “Mhm— fuck!” You screamed out in a guttural voice, throwing your head back against the bookshelf desperately as his hips snapped against yours feverishly. You were gripping onto his shoulders so hard, running your nails down his back, that you were sure you’d leave red marks later. “Holy shit- feels so good!”
 One of Hyunjin’s hands traveled away from your waist, long, nimble fingers digging into your scalp, yanking at the hair there. “Louder, bitch— take it all like the filthy slut that you are.” He shouted, voice coming out raspy as he pounded into you roughly. 
 In the very back of your mind, you distinctly heard the pitter-patter of rainfall against the nearby windowpane mixing in with the sounds of the two of you  — skin slapping against skin and wetness squelching. It was straight out of a porno and made your head swim with so many dirty thoughts. Breath catching in the center of your throat, you found your lips opening up and releasing a blood-curdling cry of pleasure. 
 Your noises of ecstasy seemed to compel Hyunjin forward with drive, as he rutted into you in a manic kind of way, thumb tracing figure-eight symbols into your inflamed clit. Almost like, if he didn’t get it out of his system, he’d never be able to live afterward — wouldn’t be able to breathe or think or speak. The tip of him hit up into that warm spot inside of you, and you clenched a little harder around this throbbing cock every time he teased you right there. 
 “Fuck— I can’t… I’m gonna…” You groaned out loudly. Your eyes flittered into the back of your skull from the way that he pulled at your hair at the same time that he fucked up into you. 
 Hyunjin grunted out lowly, hips snapping against yours with each thrust. “J—Just a little farther, doll face…” From the way that his domineering tone was slipping away, you could tell that he was also creeping near the edge of release. 
 You could feel the slip and slide between your legs, your essence coating every surface of your inner thighs and making everything feel silky and smooth. The intensity of his movements slowed down somewhat, the frenzy of his rocking leveling out as he chased your guys’ highs. 
 “Yes… right there!” You mewled out breathlessly just as the tip of him hit so far into you, that entire galaxies were cast against the expanse of your closed eyes. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire — the flush creeping down the column of your purple-marked neck and into the depths of your soul as he continued to circle your bundle of nerves. 
 Walls clenching around his cock that was buried deep inside of your warmth, you could feel the moment Hyunjin found that blissful space of his release. “I’m gonna come— fuck—” He rasped out, his voice on the quiet side as he lost all semblance of control. 
Hips stuttering against yours, he made to pull out of you completely. But you found yourself shaking your head, eyes shooting open, and giving him a serious frown. “N—No… want you to… come inside…” Your head was empty of all thoughts, as you could do nothing more but focus on the way that he felt so close to you - so far deep inside. 
 At that, Hyunjin was offering you a tiny, satisfied grin. Then he was seizing up inside of you, cock stretching against your walls as he met his high. It overtook his entire system, overruling all other obstacles and forcing his head backward in pure, orgasmic bliss. The prettiest sounds fell from his plump, crimson, kiss-swollen lips, as he let himself slip down the cliff with ease. 
 The feeling of his release painting your walls in warm whiteness caused your entire body to convulse with pleasure, as you finally found your high. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before… perfect and whole and so fucking hot. Bursts of rose and topaz and turquoise splashed across the inner workings of your mind, as your insides fluttered around Hyunjin’s cock that fit perfectly between your legs. 
 “Holy shit, that was…” You said breathlessly after you had begun to come down from your high. Cracking your eyes open you noticed the darkness still there in Hyunjin’s gaze, and the way that his eyes slit shut with want. The sound of the rain outside lulled your mind into a perfect state of peaceful limbo. “What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow his way in question. “What is it?” 
 He shrugged slowly, eyes coming away from your connected middles and locking with yours. “Nothing, just… I can’t fucking believe you just let me cum inside of you— with no protection.” 
 You could feel his cock softening inside of you, and finally, your legs stopped shaking around his waist. “Why? You don’t like the idea of that?” Beginning to pull away from him, you tried to yank as far away from his cock as you could. “If you didn’t like it, you should’ve—”
 Hyunjin’s mouth was coming onto you in the next beat, capturing your lips up into a heated kiss, stealing the labored breath right from your lungs and sucking on your puffy bottom lip. “Just shut the fuck up, alright. I fucking loved it… it was so hot— you’re so hot. Makes me wanna come in you every single day.” You could feel him move between your legs then, as he began to fuck his seed back into your aching walls. In the back of your mind, you could feel his hand lazily working at you, pushing a single digit back into your entrance between his cock, thrusting in the cum that was splattered across your thighs.  
 Groaning out softly at his words, you placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed a little bit so that you could get a look at his face again. It was filled with so much lust and want and adoration, the sight of it all almost overwhelmed you entirely. “Well, I suppose I could allow that…” Your voice trailed off, as you dragged a single finger up the center of his chest and towards the sharp line of his jaw. “If it’s with you— then yeah, you can fuck me raw every day.” 
 Hyunjin let out a low noise, which sounded like a mix between a moan and a cry for help. “But we can’t, baby doll— it wouldn’t be smart and I’d never want to put you in any kind of uncomfortable position.” 
 You found yourself shrugging off his concerns nonchalantly, as you drove your hips a little forward, meeting his shallow strokes. You loved the feeling there, of wetness and silky essence. “Yeah, but… the good thing is, at least we’d know who the father is.” 
 At that, he was flashing you a wicked smirk, pearly white glinting against puffy, red lips. His tiny smile was the last thing you saw before he was tipping into you and fitting his mouth around yours again. “Oh, you devilish little minx… I think I’ll keep you for a very long time.” 
 In the back of your mind, you could feel him moving against you, cock already stiffening again just from your words and insinuations alone. But at that moment, you weren’t too worried about what he planned to do with you for the rest of the night. Because right then, all you wanted to focus on was his face, and the way he let you ring your arms around his neck, pulling at the hair at his nape as he pressed kiss after impassioned kiss to your mouth. 
 It turns out that your roommate Felix had been right after all. In the end, working with Hwang Hyunjin hadn’t been that horrible. 
 It had been quite… nice. 
 Despite all of the bickering and shouting. 
 After a while, the rough bumps and edges of your rocky relationship seemed to mellow out between the tall bookshelves of the library. And before you knew it- he had you completely bending at his will — practically groveling at his feet for his love, attention, and care. 
 In the end, you supposed that that’s what you had always wanted from each other, and that’s why you had been so horrible to one another. If you couldn’t garner each other’s attention with regular conversations and friendship, the next best thing was to be rivals in your academics and throw insults at every opportunity you were offered. 
 But the thing about trying to hate Hwang Hyunjin — trying to hate such a smart, caring, passionate man — is that eventually, one’s willpower always breaks down, and they’re left in a pile of mess and limbs as they search out his affection. 
Fin.
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lovelybrooke · 3 months
Note
So about the genshin impact ask!
I was wanting to maybe ask for a platonic yandere Harbinger like Dottore with a teen reader but if it's a little complicated to write considering he gets mischaractarised alot lol I don't mind any other harbinger :D
Thank you!
Platonic Yandere Il Dottore x teen reader.
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I'm gonna be completely honest, my understanding of his lore/personality is very surface level since we didn't really get to know him during the Sumeru Archon quest. It was mostly just setting him up as a villain.
However, I've really been wanting to get back into genshin, so I thought this would be a good start. Please feel free to tell me if there is something wrong with my characterization. Also please request more genshin stuff, I'd love to write for it more.
masterlist
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I see Dottore is very manipulative and controlling. No matter who you are, he will find a way to take control of you and your life. Dottore is known as the doctor, so I could see him taking you in a student, especially if you have the same views as him when it comes to the Archons. If you don't, then he'll manipulate you into thinking the way he does. He will not have you worshiping those false idols around him. I could also see him growing fond of one of Arlecchino's orphans. Why he's so drawn to you is a mystery. You could remind him of his younger self, striving for recognition among a sea of morons. Perhaps you're low ranking Fatui member, someone who works under him and strokes his ego in a way he oh so enjoys. Either way, the outcome will always be the same.
Dottore needs to control you. It's in his nature. As his student, he sees nothing wrong with telling you what to do and how to do it, including moving into a spare room in his lab. He doesn't understand why you feel the need to argue with him, he is your superior and you will listen to him. However, there is a small part of him that is worried for you, and it's easy to make sure you're okay when he's the one making every decision for you. If you just let him decide what you're eating, and what you're learning, and when you can leave the lab, then you'll be perfectly safe.
Dottore feels no problem with manipulating you, in fact he enjoys it. You are a child, expressed in the way you act and the way you are so, very naive. It's for your own good really, and it really isn't manipulation if what he's telling you is the truth. The world outside his Lab is dangerous, scary, and would rip you alive limb to limb if you're not careful. So, you should just let him take care of you, it's easier that way.
Some days, you'll get a completely different Dottore. One who's sweet and caring, who lets you have a few extra minutes at breakfast before starting classes. Who smiles at your clear excitement when you preform an experiment right. However, there are other days when Dottore is more cruel, who yells and screams when you try to leave. Who says he will hunt you down, that there isn't anywhere in Teyvat that can keep you safe from him. Who locks you in your room when you're misbehaving. You know that it's his clones, but sometimes they stay for too long, wearing down you down until you're on your last leg, only for his mood to flip. It's scary, and honestly you're not sure if that's the point.
Dottore encourages any behavior similar to his. This isn't just strictly related to his work, he will praise you when you're cruel to others, when you are calculating in stressful situations, even when you're short with him, a part of him is proud. Dottore likes when he can see himself in you, it fills him with a strange sense of joy, one that he usually finds disgusting. But when it's because of you, he doesn't find himself hating it as much.
Dottore doesn't want you interacting at all with the other harbingers, or anyone else for the matter. He want's you all to himself. You are his, that's final. He needs you to be with him, he'd never admit it but he doesn't know what he'd do without his favorite student. He'd go even more insane without you, so don't you dare leave him.
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A/n: Idk about this one, Dottore is so hard to write for. Sorry if this was short.
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doumadono · 4 months
Note
emergency request
work has been stressful. i’m having panic attacks, and i’m dealing with a lot of disability related stuff on top of it. (in short: frequent episodes of not being able to move. at all.)
i don’t know if you write geto (didn’t see him on your masterlist), but if so, i would really appreciate a little geto x f!reader comfort fluff. if you’re not comfortable writing geto, i would happily accept aizawa.
thanks 🖤
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A/N: I'm truly sorry to hear that you've been going through such a challenging time. Work-related stress, panic attacks, and dealing with disability-related matters must be incredibly tough. Take the time you need for self-care. You're stronger than you know, and I believe in your resilience ♥ If you ever want to talk or share more, I'm here for you. Take care of yourself, my dear! I genuinely hope this brief story brings you some comfort. Please be gentle with me - it's only my second time writing for him
JUJUTSU KAISEN EMERGENCY REQS
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Geto was exceptionally perceptive, noticing subtle shifts in your mood long before you verbalized them.
He paid close attention to the nuances of your expressions, from the smallest furrow in your brow to the way your gaze shifted.
Initially, he observed in silence, not wanting to intrude but filing away mental notes about the patterns of your emotional landscape.
Geto became adept at distinguishing between your ordinary fluctuations and the more pronounced signs of emotional turmoil, honing in on the moments when you became increasingly weighed down.
He noticed the small details — how your laughter lost its genuine lilt or how your smile didn't quite reach your eyes during particularly trying times.
He was observant not only of the highs and lows but the nuances in between, recognizing the subtleties of emotions that might elude others. 
Finally, one day, he asked, "You seem a bit distant lately. Anything you want to talk about?”
You tentatively shared glimpses of your struggles, allowing Geto to see the vulnerability you kept hidden from others. "It's just work stress, I guess. Been feeling overwhelmed…”
Geto pulled you into a reassuring hug. “I'm here, baby. Pour it out.”
The walls around your emotions started to crumble. “I've been having panic attacks, and it's affecting every part of my life. I'm just so… tired… emotionally exhausted, you know?”
He tenderly planted a series of gentle kisses on your forehead. "Don't fret, my dear. This too shall pass. All you have to do is be patient and show kindness to the wonderful soul of yours that I hold so dearly. Come, let me take care of you.”
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The weight of the day pressed heavily on your shoulders as you stumbled into the shared apartment. The air felt thick with the residue of stress, and every step carried the burden of exhaustion. In a rare moment of vulnerability, the dam holding back the emotions broke, and you couldn't contain the torrent any longer.
Without warning, you began to scream, a raw and primal release of the pent-up frustrations and anxieties that had accumulated throughout the day. The sound echoed through the walls, a cathartic symphony of anguish. With each scream, you shed a layer of the burdens you had carried for far too long.
In a desperate frenzy, you tore your bag off your shoulders, the motion aggressive and unbridled. The bag hit the floor with a thud, a symbol of the weight you were shedding. Shoes were kicked off haphazardly, sent flying across the room like discarded remnants of a battle fought in the outside world.
Limping a step or two, you felt the physical toll of the day on your body. Each movement was a reminder of the struggles faced, a silent testimony to the challenges that seemed insurmountable. Despite the pain, you pressed on, driven by an unyielding need to find release.
Finally, on your knees, your body sank to the floor, and you hid your face in your hands. The sobs wracked your frame, the tears flowing freely as if breaking a dam of pent-up emotions. The vulnerability of the moment was palpable, an unguarded display of the toll that life had taken on your spirit.
The apartment walls absorbed the echoes of your cries, bearing witness to the raw authenticity of your emotional unraveling. In this private space, you allowed yourself to be unapologetically human, to let the facade crumble and reveal the vulnerabilities beneath.
Unbeknownst to you, Geto had been home the entire time, quietly observing the storm of emotions that unfolded. His footsteps had been soundless, allowing you the space to release the torrents of frustration that had built up throughout the day.
From the loyalty of a follower, the dynamic had shifted into a more intimate connection — the transformation from a dedicated supporter to a life partner. It had surprised you, leaving you in a state of perpetual awe at the evolution of your relationship. You marveled at Geto's keen intellect, appreciating the depth of his personality that went beyond the public facade. Yet, despite the admiration, there lingered a sense of bewilderment. You couldn't fathom what it was in you that had caused someone of his stature to fall for someone as seemingly ordinary as you.
The quiet rustle of Geto's kāṣāya garment marked his silent approach. As he entered the room, his discerning eyes took in the scene — your slumped figure on the floor, the remnants of emotional release scattered around. 
With a subtle grace, Geto crouched beside you, his kāṣāya settling around him. His presence was a steady anchor in the midst of emotional turbulence. As he observed, the lines of concern etched onto his face betrayed a genuine worry for your well-being.
His thumb and index finger gently grasped your chin. There was a silent understanding in his touch — a recognition of shared struggles and vulnerabilities.
With a voice that held a calming resonance, he asked, "What's wrong, my love?" Geto's eyes searched yours, seeking the truth behind the storm of emotions that had unfolded.
Struggling against the strength of Geto's grasp on your chin, you attempted to avert your gaze from his keen, black irises. However, his hold was unyielding, preventing even the slightest movement. Your eyes, teary and vulnerable, met his unwavering gaze.
Tears welled up and spilled down your cheeks as the floodgates of emotion burst open yet again. With each sob, you began to share the burdens that had led to this emotional breaking point. The weight of work, the battles with disability, and the overwhelming stress poured out in words between shaky breaths. "I... I just can't handle it anymore," you admitted, voice choked with emotion. "Every day feels like a struggle, and I don't know how to keep going. Oh, I'm so so useless."
As you poured out your heart, a haunting self-doubt surfaced. Amidst the sobs, you confessed, "And... and I don't understand why you're with me. I'm not good enough for someone like you. You deserve someone stronger, someone who doesn't break down like this."
In the stillness that followed, Geto's gaze remained unwavering, his fingers maintaining their gentle yet firm hold. His expression held a mixture of understanding and compassion, the weight of your words acknowledged without judgment.
With a voice that resonated with sincerity, he responded, "Strength is not about never breaking down, little one. It's about finding the courage to rise again. And you, my dear, are stronger than you give yourself credit for."
His words, though simple, carried a profound reassurance. Geto's thumb wiped away a tear from your cheek, his touch a gentle acknowledgment of the vulnerability you had bared. "I chose you because of who you are," he affirmed, his voice a soothing presence amid the storm of emotions. "Your strength lies in your resilience, in the way you face challenges head-on. You don't have to be perfect; you just have to be yourself."
With your gaze locked onto Geto's unwavering eyes, lips slightly parted and tears streaming down your face, you continued to pour out the burdens that had weighed heavily on your heart. The sobs, though still present, became intertwined with the raw honesty of your words. "I feel like I'm drowning, Geto," you admitted, your voice shaky yet determined. "Work, my disability, everything... It's just too much. There are moments when I can't move, and it terrifies me. I don't know how to handle it." The vulnerability in your expression mirrored the openness of your heart. "I thought I could handle it all, but it's breaking me," you confessed. "I can't keep up this facade of strength. It's exhausting, and I'm tired, Geto. Tired of pretending I'm okay when I'm not."
Tears blurred your vision as you continued, "And there's this constant fear," you continued, your voice quivering. "That I'm not good enough for you. That you'll see through this facade and realize I'm just... not enough…"
Geto observed your tear-streaked face with a slight tilt of his head, his gaze unwavering. Geto slipped one of his strong arms under your knees and the other against your back. With seemingly effortless strength, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you with a tenderness.
Silently carrying you through the apartment, he navigated toward a hidden sanctuary — a winter garden tucked away at the back: a place that held significance, a haven of tranquility that had often brought you solace in times of need.
The door creaked open, revealing the serene winter garden adorned with delicate flora. The air was warm, and the ambient quietness seemed to amplify the intensity of the moment. Geto, still holding you securely in his arms, stepped into the sanctuary that he knew held a special place in your heart.
The familiar surroundings embraced you with a sense of calmness as Geto carefully settled you on a comfortable metal bench covered with thick blankets, ensuring that you were cradled in warmth. 
Geto's gaze shifted to the delicate flora surrounding you. His voice was low and measured as the tall man began to explain, "All of these," he gestured towards the various plants, "are delicate. Just like you." His words held a quiet reverence for the intricacies of life, and he moved towards a small pot adorned with your favorite flowers — blue orchids. "It's easy to break them," he continued, his fingers grazing the petals with a gentle touch. "But even in their delicate state, they strive to survive." His attention shifted to a particular orchid that both of you had thought was long gone. Geto revealed the seemingly lifeless stalks, and to your surprise, pointed out two new buds emerging, still tender and small. "They may look delicate, but they have a strength within," he remarked, his eyes meeting yours. "Even when faced with adversity, they find a way to grow anew." Moving back to you, Suguro's gaze held a rare softness. "Just like these orchids, you've faced challenges and found the strength to grow. I admire your resilience." His words were sincere, a reflection of the admiration he held for your tenacity in the face of life's storms.
Tears welled up in your eyes. The quiver in your chin mirrored the emotions boiling within your soul. The weight of his words sank in, a profound recognition of the strength that had blossomed in the face of adversity. "I... I never thought of it that way," you admitted, your voice soft and tremulous. "It's just... sometimes it feels like everything is too much, like I'm too fragile for this world." The vulnerability in your confession hung in the air, a stark contrast to the quiet strength that Geto had just commended.
Geto's eyes held a depth of understanding as he listened to your words. With a reassuring touch, he reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that trailed down your cheek as he took a seat beside you. "It's crucial," he said, "to focus on your own well-being. Only then can you coexist with your inner demons. Sorrow has a human heart too often. And you're strong enough to overcome it.” Geto, with a tender gesture, pulled you to sit on his thick lap. His strong arms enveloped you, drawing you close to his wide torso. Gently rocking you back and forth, he whispered words of encouragement into your ear. "You're stronger than you think, and I believe in you. Life throws challenges at everyone, and your resilience in facing them is truly admirable. Remember, it's okay not to have it all figured out. Be patient with yourself, take one step at a time, and know that you're not alone. I'm here, you're not alone. We're in this together. You're capable of overcoming whatever comes your way, and I'm proud to stand by your side. You can always count on me. I won't hesitate to remove any obstacles that stand in your way. Your well-being is my priority.”
The warmth of his embrace and the soothing cadence of his voice created a sanctuary of comfort, a moment of solace in which you felt both physically and emotionally embraced. You gently wrapped your sore arms around Suguru's neck, seeking solace in his comforting, warm embrace. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you expressed gratitude, your voice soft but filled with sincerity. "Thank you for always being so gentle with me.”
"Anytime, Y/N. Difficult moments will fade away. And I'll never leave you alone. Ever,” he accentuated the last word, gently kissing your forehead. "Now, wipe away those tears and join me. We still have a delightful supper to prepare together.”
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yanderambling · 1 year
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BRO just binged all ur stuff and i’m obsessed and i saw you take requests,,, so get this: hero from the yandere henchmen story is also yandere for villain reader O.O doesn’t have to be the same reader if u don’t want i just think it would be fun lolol
ahhh i'm so glad to hear that, and this is such a good idea!! this one's a bit short because i'm low on writing inspo and also energy :( but you can always request again if you'd like more ~
concept: Hero!Yandere(gn) x Villain!Reader(gn)
words: ~700
CW: 18+, yandere behavior, violence, masochism, very suggestive, short and not well proofed :)
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Emyr is certain that their feelings for you are completely casual and appropriate.
Of course they get worked up over you, you're their nemesis!
It's normal for a hero to have a nemesis, to focus on one villain above all the others (even in the event that the villain has been radio silent for over a week while countless others wreak havoc on the city, even if they have to ignore all their friends constantly signaling them for backup against said villains; you're planning something, they know it, and it's their responsibility to be ready to stop you!)
And it's normal for a hero to get violently upset when they discover another hero had an encounter with that nemesis.
Just like it's completely normal for a hero to accidentally leave their friend totally vulnerable in deadly combat just days after that discovery.
They're dedicated to taking down a particularly dangerous evildoer, and people make mistakes in the heat of battles; this is all normal.
They don't think it's wrong to get so excited when their call signal goes off (one they had made specifically for calls about you), they're just passionate about stopping evil!
They don't think it's wrong to feel a shiver of anticipation tingle up their spine on the occasions you get the upper hand in battle (it's a stressful situation!), and they chalk it up to temporary shock when they find themself frozen, helpless to stop your weapons (or, god, hands) from tearing into them.
They don't think it's wrong to feel their heart race at the very thought of you, to hear the blood pounding in their ears every time they picture your manic smile or your sweaty, feral form- of course memories of their enemy will spike their adrenaline!
They don't think it's wrong to collect the odd weapons you sometimes forget after fights, to hold them tight in their hands and feel the residual warmth of your skin, to imagine how you might use each one on them, (to use them on themself and picture your disgust at the pleasure they derive from it...).
It's just important to know your enemy, is all.
It's not strange that they spend most nights skulking around your lair, using their super-vision to watch you go about your business through the thick walls, using their enhanced hearing to pick up every shift of your skin against your clothing (god how do you look even more ethereal in your casual clothes?); it's just routine surveillance!
And it's not strange that they set up multiple cameras (hidden with great effort) to catch glimpses inside when they can't be there.
(And it's not strange that they collect all their footage at the end of each day and splice together every shot where you're even slightly indecent, that they watch these perverted montages to get themself off every night, that they constantly have to wipe drool and spunk off their monitor just to catch another glimpse of your sinful body.)
It's not wrong that you occupy their thoughts every second of the day, waking or otherwise.
It's not wrong that they fall asleep every night to the memory of your vicious smirk looming over them in the wake of a rare defeat- in fact, it's motivating to recall past failure, to figure out where they went awry so they never fall into that position again (with your strong legs straddling their body, every muscle tensed against them, your wild eyes locking their gaze to yours as you both pant with exertion, a blade pressed to their throat just enough for them to feel beads of blood trickle down their neck- the only thing saving them from the pressure on their throat and crotch alike being a vigilante group arriving and causing you to make a "strategic retreat").
It's also not wrong that they keep fiddling with the wounds you've given them, pulling and scratching and reopening them again and again until they scar, because they do it for the reminder.
So they can stop it from happening again.
Definitely not so they can pretend it's your fingers digging into their skin, that your sharp eyes are watching in disdain as they moan at the stinging pain, that your cruel smile is hanging over them mockingly while they get worked up over so very little, that you've finally gotten the better of them for good and intend to use them mercilessly for your own desires...
Definitely not that.
...
So, basically, in conclusion: Emyr is completely normal about you.
And will forever continue to be.
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thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3
check my pinned post ~
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infamous-if · 1 year
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weekly? update (05 - 04 - 23)
I don't know how consistent I'll be with these but I personally like reading updates so maybe everyone else does too?
I haven't done anything different than what I've been doing:
patreon pov chapters: Orion's is done! It finished at 5.6k words but I think with a bit of editing, that'll be more. Discovering Visual Studio Code has made me much more efficient. I'm a messy writer and not organized at all so I tend to be a messy coder, so seeing my work on a timeline live is really helpful. Right now I'm working on Seven's balcony scene and that's already at 2k words and the first choice hasn't even come up yet 😅. Seven's is expectantly going to be quite bulky. Seven's inner-monologue tends to be a lot more emotion driven compared to Orion's and Sev dwells on many little moments often. One look from MC can have me writing a whole paragraph of how Seven feels about that lol. Writing the characters come very naturally now. Writing such a long, aimless paragraph about something like that for Orion feels wrong, but feels very appropriate for Seven.
Right now I have: Orion's office scene, Seven's balcony/hearth scene, and am still torn between Seb's diner or bar scene. Doing both is still in the cards, let's see how I feel! I'm sticking to the prologue for now, and then do rollouts for every chapter like that. I found these POVs really fun and low-stress since the scenes are pretty much laid out for me already. Anyway, for patreon, I think I'm going to start small and just do one tier and call it a day/throw all my extra content in that tier. No fuss for right now. I've gotten quite a bit of DMs asking for more information on bonus content! We'll see, we'll see.
the drabbles: are still happening, though I did hit a pause because Orion's drabble was so long. I started working on Maya's as a palette cleanser so that's fun.
chapter two: is going well! I wrote a late-night bus scene I wanted to write for a while, and it came out really well! This is when I can really just start putting MC in situations that lead to the routes and stuff so it's exciting. Also the competition begins sjssdubssd I have everything laid out in my head. G and Vic get more shine in chapter 2. Which is exciting! Writing the whole long scene with them and MC that I have in my head...I am Very Excited. Of course, it's a bit...
Anyway, that's all! It does look like I write a lot, but I get my energy to write through...writing. Basically, if I feel drained about one thing I work on something else and that helps me feel rejuvenated to get back to the other thing. It helps me keep my mind refreshed!
Hope you're having a good day! and keep...rocking? (that was so bad)(what is a story appropriate send off?)
Don't do anything Orion wouldn't do!
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bad-mixed-lib-dyke · 7 months
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Read This First
So... clearly I'm going through something
I can not stress this enough, if you are under 18:
GO ON, GIT, GET OUTTA HERE
I'm just someone out here fetishizing their trauma
I'm 32, mixed, AFAB, probably TransMasc but gender is hard, She/Her is fine.
Out on the streets, I'm about as liberal as they come. But in these Tumblr sheets... well... I'm working through some shit lmfao
Likely to find topics such as:
misogyny 〰 patriarchy 〰 detrans 〰 corrective NC
Ya know... everything I'm not
IF ANY OF THIS IS ON YOUR DNI AND I REPOSTED FROM YOU
Then I reposted from somewhere other than your blog, it was unintentional, I'm sorry! please message me with the post and I will gladly remove it!
I don't like intense violence/degradation. Punching and kicking? You've lost me. "stupid fleshlight cumrag"? Absolutely the fuck not.
And I think hypno spirals and sounds are usually boring
More about the coercion and mental stuff
That being said: My DMs are currently open
Do not call me cunt at all. Do not open with anything like bitch, dummy, or whore as a name.
If there is something specific I posted that's inspired you, best to open the message with the post so we can be on the same page.
If you message me wanting to RP you better be able to
~*write*~
I can have pretty low patience for things easily found in porn (if you can easily find it, you should do that, you don't need me).
No images without obtained consent.
Can't think of anything else... if you continue after reading this, then welcome, dirty, dirty degenerates of Tumblr dot com
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defectivehero · 1 year
Note
Heyy!! Just wanted to ask: Do you have any tips for writing fight scenes? I kinda struggle with it
(if you see the same ask somewhere else it's because i asked a few people lol)
helloooo! i'm far from an expert, but here are some tips that first came to my mind: 
[and, of course, don't feel pressured to do any or all of these things! write whatever you want]
focus on the little details—look at the setting. where are the two characters fighting? is it urban or rural? are they on a busy street, with lots of passerby or a deserted alleyway? what is in their immediate vicinity that can enhance the scene? perhaps there's a discarded bottle lying on the ground that one of the characters can grab in a spontaneous movement and throw at their opponent. the environment is incredibly important, because it can have a huge impact on the fight itself! after all, people will fight differently depending on the setting. if a villain is fighting a hero in a tight space, their movements are going to be different than if they were in a wide open space with freedom to move however they desire.
character. descriptions. CHARACTER. DESCRIPTIONS. I cannot stress this enough. without at least some descriptions, it'll sound monotonous. 'he hits them, then they dodge' blah blah blah. that's boring! spice it up a bit! what does the person's opponent look like? is their stance low to the ground? do they look more guarded than usual? perhaps there's a strange expression on their face or a gleam in their eyes. hell, maybe there's dirt, grime, or blood on their clothes. those simple things will further cement your characters and also keep the audience's interest as you move through the scene. plus, they're awesome for foreshadowing.
don't be afraid to break things up. a fight scene shouldn't be 100% fast-paced, otherwise the readers will be left feeling confused and things will progress too fast! when you really think about it, the majority of fight scenes are not filled with constant hits, punches, and kicks without a moment for a breather. personally, I'm very weak to the moment where the two characters will break apart and circle around each other, breathing hard. that kind of stuff will make things even more hard hitting. don't be afraid to include dialogue, either! dialogue really enhances a fight scene, in my opinion. [and yes, sometimes dialogue isn't practical. but even a simple hissed remark or muttered insult can go a long way!]
lastly, don't force it. that is going to sound stupid, but... if you're dreading the idea of writing a long ass fight scene... think about some alternatives to that! i kind of get stuck in this mindset sometimes of: 'oh, this needs at least three paragraphs of solid action & back and forth fighting.' I've definitely gotten into situations where a piece will be sitting in my drafts for MONTHS just because I can't get through one particular portion of it. at that point, I can't help but think: 'Why bother?' I really do think that, if I don't enjoy writing something, it will show. so keep that in mind as you write! writing what you want to write > writing what the story necessitates.
sorry if this doesn't make sense.. but these are just some things that work for me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Do you write fic for The Raven Cycle and The Dreamer Trilogy (or do you want to)? Does the epilogue of Greywaren leave you yearning for more about what Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish do in their post-canon life together?
Then this is just the thing for you!
50 States, 50* Pynch Fics is a fandom event seeking exactly what it sounds like: fifty-one Pynch fics, one set in every state and Washington, DC, following these two assholes around as they go about the United States together, fixing ley lines and doing other magical nonsense in their post-canon lives.
Have you ever wanted to write Pynch running into Bigfoot in the Pacific Northwest? How about having a grand old time in Palm Springs?
If you answered yes to the above, or if you have other ideas about Pynch interacting with cryptids, this is the place for you!
Sign up here!
FAQ
What fresh hell is this?
This is an attempt at a fandom event. In Greywaren's epilogue, we learn Ronan is wandering around working on ley lines and Adam works for "an organization with a dot gov email," and that they often work together across the United States. I thought it'd be fun to follow them on that post-canon journey and write a fic set in each of the 50 states (plus DC).
Is there a deadline?
Nope! I want this to be as low-key and low-stress as possible for everyone involved and there's no hard deadline for posting fics. Life happens. Stuff gets in the way of writing. All I ask is that if you claim a state, you make your best effort to post the fic for it, and if it ends up you're not in a place to write it, just contact me.
Is there a word count requirement?
Again, nope! Write a microfic, write a drabble, write 100k. Write however much or as little as you want.
What can I write?
Literally anything. Fluff, smut, hurt/comfort, whatever you feel like. Go crazy. And if you feel like an AU, I'm not gonna stop you. You don't even need to know anything about a state. Pop them in a hotel room and say it's in Montana for all I care. What if you can't contain yourself and want to write fics for the entire West coast? Go ahead and write fics for Washington, Oregon, and California. I won't stop you. And if one fic for Maine doesn't satisfy you, write more! Multiple fics per state are welcome.
How do I sign up?
There's a prompt challenge here on AO3 with all 50 states and Washington, DC. If you want to write a fic for a state, hit the "Claim" button for that state. Please note, I have never created a prompt challenge before and I'm still trying to figure out how this thing works. If you run into issues, just contact me. We'll figure this thing out together!
Ultimately, I just want everyone to have fun. That's what fandom is all about. So let's write and read some great fics!
- @kelliealtogether, who doesn't know what the hell she's getting herself into so please be patient 🥰
*Though Ronan would be pleased if I went "Fuck Washington" too, we can't leave out DC. 😌
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scullymurphy · 4 months
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Two questions for you, as someone who just finished BL/FD:
How dare you?
What recommendations do you have for dealing with my BL/FD hangover? And BEFORE YOU SUGGEST ANYTHING please know that yes, I did immediately reread them. It’s literally all I’ve done this past week. I want (NEED) a young Harrison Ford to slice these fica open and shove my prone form inside them to keep me warm through winter.
Thank you for writing them and sharing them with the world!!
Looool!! I loved getting this in my inbox, THANK YOU! Fandom moves so fast that it's easy to feel like your work is done and dusted. You have no idea how happy it makes me to see it's still delighting and moving readers like you.😭🥰
To answer your questions:
I'm so sorry, I know. I wrote these two stories from a place of pure self-indulgence during the pandemic and some personal hard times. So I poured a lot of angst and emotion into them. Falling Dark especially does not pull any punches. So I do apologize, kind of 😈. I confess I love to make my readers cry and/or miss sleep and school or work. I need one of those 'tears of my readers' mugs!
Gah, I LOVE that you re-read already! And I mean, I wrote Teach Me How to Forget pretty quickly after FD wrapped in my own bid to staunch my hangover. It's the lighthearted, low-stakes, low-stress, few obstacles Dramione puff piece I needed to immerse myself in after all that angst. It's also got a rom-com 'young professionals in the city' vibe that's very different from the settings of BL and FD. So there's always that! And stories by other writers that have truly immersed me are Love and Other Historical Accidents by my great friend PacificRimbaud, Dancer Adjusting Her Shoulder Strap by adathoroughgood2018 (do not be put off by the fact that it's missing a last chapter--it's just an epilogue and it's truly not needed), ANYfreakingthing by provocative_envy (seriously do not limit yourself to her Dramione) and Hot for Teacher by MotherofBulls, which will have you cackling all the angst right out of your system. If you're in the mood for holiday stuff, the D/Hr Advent fest is posting right now, and giving some truly delightful stories and art. I have a story in the fest this year, and there are something like 13 years of collections, all of which contain absolute gems. ALSO, I may be (cough cough) posting a new WIP come January time. Although it will NOT be lighthearted or fun. We will all be on a dark, broody train with D&H trying to solve heinous crimes...
ANYway, thank you so much for this ask. It brightened my day immeasurably. xoxo ~Scully
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elizaellwrites · 14 days
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WIP Questionaire
Thank you @worldstogetlostin for tagging me here!
Rules: Answer as many (or as few) of the questions about your WIP as you can.
1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?
My ocs, but not all of them. They were part of a separate plotline that I abandoned quickly because it was terrible and cringy. Parts of them changed as they developed, but the core of their characters began here.
The originals are: Annamarie, Rachel, Jacob, Elaine, Jol (the daemon), and Natalie (Anna's mom)
2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?
I imagine it would be like the soundtracks I listen to while writing. These include songs from Narnia, HTTYD, Pirates of the Carribean, etc. I'm no composer, so I'd trust the judgment of the music expert on the case.
3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?
My automatic instinct is to jump to "all of them," but I'll be reasonable here and keep it brief because I could write an essay about each of them. I won't because a) that's ridiculous to do here, and b) a lot of this has to do with spoilers/stuff on the down-low. My Top 3 (these may be surprising or not) in no particular order are:
Seniar- He's more than Anna's dad, he's lived many lives and seen too much. He's a prince who stepped up to protect his people, defied expectations, and fell in love with a human, earned his place as a war hero, and did his best to protect and raise his daughter after everything he had known and cared for was destroyed in front of him. He might not be perfect, but he's dedicated his life to other people and still provides for his daughter despite carrying the burden of his past.
Roselle- The living dead, her existence shakes the very foundation of my other characters. After being introduced to the universe, nothing was the same, and it was all for the better. She also has this strange charm about her, like she demands attention. Her life and her death are quite possibly the 2nd and 3rd most influential factors in my entire plotline- only outdone by the destruction of Ariya. She's also on a team of her own with a willingness to overlook the rulebook, which makes her extremely fun to write.
Jacob- He's caring but distant at the same time, his family is a disaster, and he's a rule follower and a rule breaker all at once. He's an enigma and has been from the start. You think you know him, but do you really? He's always running from something, facing challenges like he's trying to prove something to himself. Him and his siblings are the driving force of a lot of plot lines, and for good reason. You just can't help but wonder whether he is a good person or a bad person, and maybe he's just both.
4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?
I'm honestly not 100% sure. My inspiration to write this WIP truly started with Percy Jackson, so there could be some crossover there. Really anyone with an interest in fantasy and okay with dark subjects could find it interesting.
5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?
Writer's block. Whether it's because a character wasn't connecting with the action the way I wanted them to, or if I'm having a day that everything I write isn't something I'm proud of... I'm in college and work, so there's often a lot on my mind, and stress and creativity don't flow well together in my brain.
6. Are there animals in your story? Talk about them!
Anna(marie) has a cat named Isa(belle) who she picked up while moving around with her father. Isa is a beautiful and sweet black Turkish Angora whose personality is modeled after my childhood cat Belle. She's not a major focus, but she means a lot to Anna as one of the few beings she could connect with outside of her father.
All other animals are wildlife and have to do with worldbuilding, which could go crazy, so I'll stop it there.
7. How do your characters get around? (ex. trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)
While on Earth and involved in traditionally human things, they travel in cars because their goal is to blend in and hide in plain sight.
In the list of natural (magic) Hecathian abilities, one of them is Teleportation. Characters with this ability, or in proximity to someone who is, travel this way. The challenge is it takes more energy the further you are traveling and needs quite a bit of practice and discipline to do it safely and correctly. A couple examples of characters with this power are Seniar, Annamarie (duh), and Jaleya (Cameron's sister).
8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?
Chapter 16- near the middle of book 1.
Not even close to where I want to end this.
9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?
I suppose the variety of aspects that appear. There is action, adventure, drama, complex characters and relationship dynamics, worldbuilding aspects, and the world and timeline just keeps expanding with different stories to tell. There's a lot to choose from, and it's all interconnected in the same universe.
10. What are your hopes for your wip?
I have a whole series planned, plus spin-offs and expanded stories to supplement it. I hope I have time to get through all of it because I want my main WIP and its world to someday be a complete set and no longer stuck only in my brain and scattered through thousands of notes.
Lightly tagging @my-cursed-prince, @willtheweaver, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @ashen-crest and anyone else who wants to tell me about their WIP!
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wildpeachfarm · 30 days
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You said you're willing to talk about writing and I know you can't contribute as much (fair, I'm an author and earlier someone asked you about pastels and I was like, well duh they like pastels look at their tumblr layouts only to keep reading asks and realized they were talking about the other kinds of pastels 😭)
But right now I just feel so excited as a writer cause I've got some really exciting plans coming up soon. With my current WIP (beloved sex worker au) I'm dabbing into very different character dynamics and really mature themes that I never let myself explore before
And either after that's done or before I finish it as a little break I'm planning on something that's gonna be really short and sweet. It'll be a nice change of pace from the sex worker au and its gonna be shorter so less thinking needed. I hesitate to call it low-effort cause it's not really, but that's probably gonna cap out between 3k-5k which is bite-sized for me as a writer to work on (I know for some writers that's pretty long and no shame to them, just for my personal averages that's very much on the short end of the spectrum)
I'm just excited to create honest 🫶
And the reception of the SW!AU has been so lovely it makes me want to write more 🥰
How about your art? Any exciting pieces on the way? A new setting you want to put them in?
I really don't know how to ask artists about their progress sorry 😅
I imagine you guys aren't all that different but for writers we can all speak in tropes and while artists can do that to, you guys also go outside the bounds of tropes a fair bit lol
(wait omg this makes me wonder if I also misinterpreted that ask as meaning the wrong type of pastels HAHA)
OOOOH this sounds so interesting I love seeing people explore new dynamics with characters and their interpretations of unique scenarios and such. Also I'm a sucker for sweet stuff too so needless to say i will be SAT for anything you post!
I've been working on art slowly but surely! I've got a few ideas on the back burner but the next two weeks are still stressful exam season for me so I haven't had a /ton/ of time to whip out drawings like i usually can haha. Hopefully soon™️ tho
oh yeah I never thought about it like that but I definitely see it! I wish the fanbase did more bigbang events with artists and writers together because I always love to see collaborations within one trope/genre/prompt/etc. because it can still be so varied :0
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analexthatexists · 2 months
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Undertale AU Ideas involving Alphys
Because not everything can be about Sans Undertale, right?
(I had so much fricking fun writing, these oh my god.)
TW: Suicide and other heavy topics
1. Reincarnation
Alphys kills themselves and is revived similarly as Flowey.
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This part of one of the Betrayed Undyne Endings stook with me for a bit. What would happen if she unsucessfully pulled it off and was brought back to life by Flowey or some other person? Perhaps even Undyne? They'd probably come back as maybe a robot or some sort of technological-based body.
And then like...Everything resets but Alphys stays the same and is basically now trapped in the role Flowey is. RESET after RESET trying to get back to their normal life and all of their friends, Alphys would realize that they can't go back and that this is their life now, going down a similar path as Asriel once did, but resorting to violence and hurting others far slower than Flowey did. Eventually they just become hopeless and go a bit crazy. Their goal however wouldn't be to become the GOD OF HYPERDEATH or TO STEAL YOUR SOUL or anything like that. They just want to be able to die and move on, maybe even reincarnate into a better life, just anything but THIS. And instead of teaching "It's KILL or BE KILLED", they teach "It's FIGHT or BE FOUGHT" (Less about hurting and killing people and more defending yourself from others), letting you learn how to fight and attack before how bullets and attacks work.
2. Destabilization
In an attempt to continue her plans in experimenting with DETERMINATION, Alphys chooses to inject herself with some of the substance over gathering fallen down monsters, only to eventually turn into an Amalgamate.
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I have a feeling this idea has already been done, but screw it. Yes, I'm aware it's similar to things like Alphys NEO and Alphys Takes Action but WHO THE HECK CARES!?
After a few trials, Alphys decides to push their research further and, seeing as they don't want to risk any lives (and basically stopping the Amalgamates from happening), decides to test the stuff on herself without permission from or telling Asgore. The idea was less about making SOULs persist and more about a monster becoming as strong if not stronger than a human, potentially being able to shatter or cross The Barrier if successful. She was already dealing with low self esteem anyways, thinking that if this did fail and she died, would anyone even miss her? It wasn't much a loss, which motivated her further to do this to herself, injecting a SMALL dose of DETERMINATION into herself with the help of some complex machinery. At first, it worked and she was fine, and she took down notes about herself and continued her studies mostly normally, but as time progressed and she grew more stressed, more determined to finish her work and more obsessed over doing this for everyone, her body began to deteriorate as the DETERMINATION began overwhelming her. Eventually she wasn't able to leave the True Lab and had to send out Mettaton, who was growing more and more concerned about the doctor's condition, to do stuff for her via text messages and other forms of communication. Eventually, she went totally silent all together, resulting in Mettaton and Undyne going into the True Lab to check on her, only to find she'd transformed into something monstrous and unrecognizable. A fate almost similar to Gaster, actually. Brilliant scientists being shattered mentally and physically to their own creations.
3. Recollection/Reformation
Alphys tries to save Undyne before she dies after the Undying battle, but fails horribly as the rest of the Underground falls, Undyne ultimately becoming an Amalgam.
While evacuating everyone in Hotland into the True Lab, Alphys sent Mettaton to Waterfall to ensure Undyne escaped the battle alive if all went to Hell. Mettaton was able to stop the Human from landing the fatal blow and escorted Undyne out of the area, much to Undyne's disliking. They wanted to FINISH THE HUMAN, not RUN FROM THEM! Mettaton brought them back to the True Lab with Alphys, who recognized Undyne was moments away from melting and dusting away. The human had not landed the blow that would kill them instantly, but their health was slowly draining and the DETERMINATION was wearing off. In a state of panic, Alphys decided to simply inject MORE DETERMINATION into Undyne in hopes that would stabilize things. After all, Undyne had been pretty stable up until now when it came to having DETERMINATION. It should be fine, right?
It was not fine.
After injecting Undyne with more DETERMINATION, Alphys left the room for a second to reassure herself and find some things to help bandage Undyne up or ease their pain. When they came back, Undyne had vanished. She heard monsters from the hallways screaming and roaring, and quickly realized that, not only had Undyne transformed into an Amalgamate, but was actively getting into fights with the other Amalgams, who weren't happy about this newcomer's sudden arrival. Alphys was unable to stop any of it, and had to bare to the Amalgamates sloshing around and trying to eat each other alive, which then resulted in ALL OF THEM FUSING TOGETHER, Undyne having most control over the newly formed "monster" while the other, more scattered brains took a backseat. Alphys, both mortified and thankful to see Undyne in this state, was a tad bit more relieved to find that Undyne had actually kept most of her mental state and would in fact be staying alive. However, the issues popped up when it came to monitoring this giant amalgamate and breaking the news to everyone else in the area.
EXTRAS
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4. Fragmentation
Alphys tries to off themself in a different way, choosing to dive into The Core hoping to plummet to their death. However, they end up shattering themself through time and space like Gaster presumably did.
I don't have much of a story or idea of what could happen from here, perhaps Alphys meeting Gaster or taking their place. You could do a lot with that idea, but I'm not sure where to even begin.
5. Ascension
Flowey makes a big frick-up and turns Alphys into a God. It's similar to The Thought where Sans absorbs the 6 Human Souls, but it's with Alphys and the reasons are drastically different.
While preparing to extract the DETERMINATION from the 6 Human Souls in the True Lab, Alphys encounters Flowey, who politely asks her for the SOULs to become a GOD, else he'll kill Alphys and take them by force. However, Alphys refuses and tries to run off with the SOULs, to which Flowey is quick to stab her with vines. The SOUL containers fall to the floor, shattering and releasing the SOULs, which Flowey proceeds to begin absorbing. However, before he can, Alphys retaliates and absorbs them HERSELF.
Not too sure what could/would happen afterwards though.
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bonesandthebees · 10 months
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hello sire, i am just a low peasant fanfic writer asking your advice for how to spread your fanfiction around 🐺🐺🐺🐺
I'm gonna be 100% honest a lot of it is just plain luck. like, yes there are things you can do like trying to keep a regular update schedule so your fic frequently appears in the recently update tab and self-promoing where you can on other platforms, but the way my fics blew up really had nothing to do with me.
when I was still in the early days of posting clinic and it was relatively unknown, someone made a tiktok reccing the fic. this was when clinic only had like 5 chapters posted or something. the tiktok went viral a bit on mcyttiktok so I got a pretty solid sized boost from that. from there, I made an effort to keep updating the fic regularly to keep the momentum going, and it worked. the fic kept growing. other things that continued to boost it was just community content I had nothing to do with. a lot of people started cosplaying clinic characters on tiktok again, which further boosted it. once I finished the fic I thought the growth was mostly over, but only about a month after I finished it several big mcyttwt accounts started talking about siren specifically, which led to the entirety of sirentwt which is really what catapaulted clinic so high up. again, I had nothing to do with that stuff happening. it was entirely luck.
after clinic ended, I wanted to keep riding the momentum I got from having such a huge fic so I decided on world forgetting as my next big fic specifically bc I knew it would keep a lot of clinic readers on my stuff. it was a similar concept and world but with a darker tone, and I knew that if I had two fics get relatively big in the mcyt fandom space I'd be a pretty established author at that point. so that was a bit of strategy on my end, but again, the biggest boosts didn't come from me. it was just a combination of timing with how active the dsmp fandom was at that time, the concept I had which was an unique spin on the most popular au at the time (while tommy being a civilian healer wasn't unheard of, it didn't become a fandom staple trope until after clinic blew up).
really your best bet for getting your fics to spread is to try and have regular updates and unique spins on popular concepts, but more than anything it's just luck. so don't stress too much about the amount of interaction your fics get and focus on enjoying the writing process yourself. you'll make the best content if you're having fun with it, and that alone will draw readers to your work!
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