A Stupid Way to come up with Original Characters and Stories (That Somehow Works)
Find a character from a work you admire. Any media will do, but Children’s media works the best.
Ask yourself a few questions about the character in question. I don’t have a complete list, and the questions are likely going to vary, and most of this is coming off the top of my head, but yeah, here are a few suggestions.
Was there anything about this character that ticked you off? Maybe this character did something that you thought was ooc? Or maybe this character is too perfect and could use a few more flaws.
Does the medium or genre prevent the character from performing certain actions? Furthermore, do certain aspects of the characters life, including sex, gender, social status, and age prevent this character from acting in a certain way?
Is there something you want to see the character do that you know will never happen in the show?
And finally, is there anything you want to change about this character?
Rant to yourself or to tumblr about everything the show apparently did wrong. Constantly switch between getting mad at yourself for nitpicking a show you love and being mad at the work itself for not being 100% perfect.
Scream into a pillow, make yourself some hot cocoa, eat a full dinner, and then take a hot shower.
Get out a sketchpad or a word document or anything else you use to brainstorm and start drawing and or writing about the character in the show. But write the character the way you think they should be, as opposed to the way their presented in canon.
Take into account that changing some aspects of your character will effect the story in some pretty big ways, especially if what you changed is an action the character performed. Maybe that Magical Princess ran away at a young age under the stress of becoming queen before joining a gang and ultimately becoming a crime boss? Maybe that Alien supervillain can be reformed by showing them the good things about the planet Earth. When you change an aspect of a story, justify the change by having it affect every other aspect of the story. Whatever you do, though, don’t handwave the change. Instead embrace it… those changes are where the heart of your story lies.
Don’t be afraid to add in elements from other works of fiction other than the one you’ve chosen. Most of the plot elements of Gravity falls and Rick and Morty, for example, are just similar enough to make a meeting between Ford Pines and Rick Sanchez possible.
Look over your work and note just how far you’ve drifted from canon. If you’ve changed the idea enough, it should feel kinda alien to the original work. If it’s too similar, then if might be a good idea to repeat the previous steps.
Some of the things to note include tone, genre, level of obscenity, and target demographic. Considering how fanworks typically go, we almost unconsciously make dark shows light and fluffy and light and fluffy shows dark and gritty. This can be a good thing when done right.
The humour of the work will also depends on the type of humour you feel comfortable writing. Sometimes your humour will be almost exactly like the original work, and sometimes it’ll be drastically different. Aim for the latter.
If you added in elements from another work of fiction, then certain patterns are inevitably going to be formed. using the Rick and Morty/ Gravity Falls fandom above, one can’t help but make Ford and Rick foils of each other; two interdimensional science dorks, but one has a stronger sense of morality. The character reactions between the two of them is dripping with potential that we’ll never see in canon, because these two shows air on different networks and are aimed at different target demographics.
If necessary, repeat the process again, but this time apply this to your version of the character. Continue until your happy with what you have.
Finally, rename the characters, and if you’re an artist, re-draw them as well. The new names and designs should reflect the character you wrote, not the character you were inspired by.
And bam, you just made something original.
Now obviously, this isn’t the only way to make characters or write stories… artists tend to draw from real life just as often as they reference other works of fiction. But the great thing about this process is that it depends entirely on your own personal interpretation of not only the work of fiction in question, but also of how the world around you works. I believe that we, as humans, are natural complainers and nitpickers, constantly believing ourselves to be the sole authority on how the world should work. On one hand, it might be easy to just rant about it and call it a day, but I believe these rants hold quite a lot of creative potential. Writing isn’t about coming up with something wholly new and original… story telling is pretty much limited to the human experience, and we’ll always fall back on something familiar (note the tropeless tale)… instead, its about writing about the familiar in a new way.
For context : I was DMing a group of four players composed of a Paladin, a druid, a female barbarian and a female ranger. Their objective was to find the creatures that were causing trouble in a nearby village. They quickly discovered that those creatures weren’t like anything they’ve seen in the region and that their presence was not natural. Indeed, it was caused by a magic artifact that ended up recently in the forest, creating them. So they fight their way to the cave where the artifact is and they end up fighting the Alpha of the creatures…or well, they try. Because, one by one, they’re taken down to 0 hp and rendered unconscious. In the end there is only one of them left against a mid life boss and one of their offspring : Lodane, the female wolf companion of the druid
[DM] Me : [Paladin] you collapse, after you feel the claws of the beast pulled back of your chest. Your vision is blurred and slowly drifting towards the darkness of unconsciousness. You were the last of your party still holding your ground, but now, you can only pray to your Merciful God as you feel like this could be your end…
*A pause, I’m looking at all the players*
…as your fate now rest in the paws of Lodane.
Paladin : I pray to the God of Light to give strength to that canine, our last hope
DM : You hope that your god has heard your plea, before everything around you just become darkness.
Ranger (OOC) : Pffff, it’s over guys, no way this wolf is gonna do anything against the boss.
Druid (OOC) : Well she still got all of her HP.
Paladin (OOC) : Only the God of Dices can save us now…and her.
Barbarian (OOC) : It was a good run guys, we’ll just have to be more careful next time
At this point, both my players and I think it’s over, that the group is going to be wiped out, so I continue, all the while thinking about the boss and starting to wonder if I made it too hard.
Me : As she see the Paladin falling to the ground, the beast clawing at his now broken armor, the wolf stops and let go of the dead offspring’s neck…
*Roll a will dice to see what her reaction would be. Result is 18*
Me : Even if she now see you’re all to the ground, the wolf isn’t intimidated. Without hesitating, she charges the last of the offspring and jump on it, aiming for the neck of the poor thing.
*Rolls a nat 20. Rolls maximum damage.*
Me (A bit surprised) : Her jaw literally snap as her fangs easily pierces the soft skin of the creature’s neck, that dies almost instantly, it’s carotid in utter ruin, letting a quick shriek of agony. However, it’s not of the likes of the Alpha, that promptly turn around before launching it’s huge claws at Lodane.
*Rolls a 2, it’s not enough to touch the wolf*
Paladin (OOC) : Wow, my prayer actually did something?
Me : But the swing is far too slow for the wolf. She graciously avoid it before jumping on the right and jumping unto the beast back, trying to bite it.
*Rolls a nat 20, at this point the players are both stunned and laughing as I’m looking at the magic happening in front of my eyes with both surprise and amusement. Then I roll maximum damage, again.*
Barbarian (OOC) : That’s not a wolf, that’s a warrior in disguise!
Druid (OOC) : My god I didn’t know I had a pet that was more badass than me!
Paladin (OOC) : It’s a warrior? It’s a wolf? It’s both! It’s WARRIOOOOOR LODANE! ♫
Me (Having trouble continuing as I’m nearly laughing because of their reaction and those dices) : She bite the beast at top of it’s left paw, taking a good chunk of pale skin and flesh. The beast emits a deep growl of anger before trying to bite her back.
*Rolls a 8. It’s not touching. The players are going crazy as they start to chant “Warriooooor Lodane!” like a super-hero theme of the eighties. I continue, tears in my eyes.*
Me : So, to no avail, the beast tries. But Lodane is too swift, Lodane is too strong. As soon as it was going to get her, she jumps down, before immediately turning and jumping to the Beast’s neck.
*Rolls a nat 20, for the third time in a row. Now they’re just shouting and laughing while the Paladin is still chanting, louder, Warrior Lodane’s Theme. Then I roll nearly maximum damage. She just took down the boss to a few hp and she is not even scraped*
Me : Lodane’s leap at it’s neck with ferocity and might! She manages to pierce it’s skin, but it’s not enough to take down the beast that is now howling madly, making sounds straight out of nightmares. It opens it’s mouth and tries to bit at that incredibly strong wolf.
*This time, the beast rolls enough to damage Lodane, who is now taken down at 2 hp. The table gasps and they stop as I continue*
Me : Lodane tries to escape it’s fury, alas! It’s teeth sinks into the poor wolf’s hide as it swiftly swing it. Lodane rolls to the ground…slowly, she is standing up again, growling menacingly. With what strength she have left, she charges. The beast is doing the same. It’s the final clash…they run, and run, and Lodan’s jump, her jaw wide open, ready to pierce through it’s neck and into it’s throat to finish what you all and she started.
*I roll the dice. It’s enough to touch. But I look at my players, looking at me, tense, waiting.*
Me (Not narrating) : In order to kill it, she have to do maximum damage.
*I roll the dice for the damage…it’s slowly goes and goes…and it stops. And then, it’s a little silence, a magical silence. I’m nearly crying and my forehead on the table when I’m continuing*
Me : Okay so…okay. Lodane leaps at her prey, and her fangs finally goes through the whole thing’s throat, god, it’s a mess. Never has the forest see such fury and might inside an animal, any animal, but here she is, putting down a beast twice her size to the ground while it’s roaring in agony. The beast is shaking, for a few seconds, before she literally snap her powerful jaw. There is a cracking sound, before the beast just stops….it’s dead. Lodane let it go…and she jumps unto it’s corpse before sitting down on it, majestic as all hell, victorious…….her, the killer of beasts. Her….the Warrior.
The whole table (In an explosion of joy while I’m just here smiling with tears in my eyes, both upset at this wolf that killed my boss and utterly literally trying not to laugh or join the players) : Warrioooooooor Lodane! ♫
And that’s how a wolf managed to save the party from a complete wipe. After this incredible feat, they slowly came to their senses with 1 hp, looking at the carnage Lodane had done. She was looking at her druid master with wide eyes and her tail was showing signs of immense joy. Needless to say, she was treated like no other pet after that day, and she was so impressive that I gave her a boost in stats. Because now she wasn’t any wolf anymore.
she’s falling through the atmosphere shattering onto the earth like
cascading stars scattering stardust fresh from heaven a baby at war this is just the beginning she is completely out of control untamed and inspiring a ruby glow inferno i will never let you go she spins her lucid Alice in Wonderland imagination into a live playground spiraling down the chorus of cosmos
a crown of flowers wrapped around her head the sweet perfume of daisies dripping down her neck she inherited a palace a dainty treehouse in the woods and she would sit and drink tea and read books like she should good night and sweet women, gourmet, and wine serenity and life there is a kingdom inside
every time you open your mouth I see fireflies of luscious language flow forth like radiating confetti like that golden helmet on your marvelous mercury mind …i see you wield words like they are ingredients in spellbooks and you feel alone with your thoughts and you don’t know what’s louder, the world outside or the chaos within the madness created by your twin and you write invitations with your mind to birthdays that lead to wonderland and poetry tea mixed inside ~ i can hear and see and feel your voice everywhere
she writes poetry on sheets of moonlight with a pen that pours out ink from the whole night sky it’s her creamy words made of moisture beads and dreamy composition, she can create an orchestra with lunar lyrics and love notes written by the stars
everything i see in the world it all comes back to you because you are my mother, my lover my daughter and my sister i can hear the stars whisper stay wild my dear moon child
if i was a psychic i’d say to a leo that their heart was carrying too much weight. i’d say you are so involved in the moment that i can hear the violins of your heart playing and you leave it wide open and that this is your curse and your gift. i know you go home and you can’t stop leaking you can’t stop leaking the gods are watching you crying but
those tears that fell down the cheeks of great leos like napoleon, max
heindel, amelia earheart, helena blavatsky and carl jung are the ones glistening from your eyes the gods know how marvelous you are ~ even when you can’t shine
shaking and rapidly exhaling, don’t crush your wings against the weight of your own mind they were so perfectly, pleasantly, patiently crafted like the way you use your hands to delicately thread and rewire and repair they are like instruments the way they touch everything and leave a frosted glaze i always know when you have been because you leave nothing behind like you want to be invisible
she rises from the aroma of a flower dainty as a forest fairy, honorable as
a warrior fighting for the cause that captures her musical heart she’s always on the threshold of a fairytale she is some delectable mind and figure of abstract beauty to behold life is her dance across cards gently placed she twirls on
imagination and spins in reverie, a performance of abstract
movement, a tightrope display, a true portrait of balance and artistry
I want to destroy these monsters But devastating them destroys a part of myself I feel more alive in the shadow than the light I prefer the creaking hollow in my bones to the noise of people, the static, the show I have been violated by poisons from hidden valleys I have been stung by leaking ink dripping dark words from unconscious levies Sometimes my body is just a floating Trying to contain century’s memories Between my legs the monsters crawl Trying to perforate every part of me And I was only just becoming used to this skin
she hears wisdom from the mountains and songs from the sea she sings the music of every language and tastes of every herb and spice something is sultry and glowing in her gaze she is sunkissed and filled with dreams that seem written constellations her mind has wandered everywhere it has left footprints in every valley and book, every mind and philosophy she is like sunday everyday, a vacation a getaway a sail into the horizon, a cruise through the stars a freefall into nature’s arms
look how much you’ve grown i’ve seen you slowly fill in those eyes that belong to an old soul i’ve seen you stretch into those bones that were always too big for you and you keep waking up every morning because you know one day you will be rewarded you hold onto the knowing that things will get better and you will feel less sicker and your work will finally be done
you try to read your own puzzle like a book with a magnifying glass as if you are disconnected on the outside staring in you are not an abstract entity i feel you your body pulsates like electrons exploding like bubbles of blue foam your feelings are turquoise crystals over the sea never tainted but reflecting shades and hues from unknown galaxies don’t hide what was crafted so exquisitely
there were times she stayed in bed for days i couldn’t touch her without her bleeding she had third degree burns every sense hurts then she would laugh with god or angels or something invisible i am not dealing with a girl but something magical
“Mother has been poisoned !” - Batfam x Reader (batmom)
Ok, Imma translate @laetitia-prst‘s request (my fellow French person yo), so, basically :
SUMMARY : Batmom has been poisoned by a new villain who wants to get known by killing the famous Bruce Wayne’s wife/partner. The batfamily is on edge, they gotta save her, because they’d be nothing without her…And then laetitia-prst talks about the ending and important plot points but hey, no fun if I translate that too right ? So here for poisoned bat mom,I feel like maybe it’s going a bit fast ? I didn’t really wanna make more than one part for this story so it’s long, and I’m afraid I might have rushed some things up…I hope you’ll still like it :s :
You were with Damian, asking some mango juice at the bar for him (the barman was being a dick, and refused to serve your son because “he was too young”, even though he didn’t want an alcoholic drink, so your quite annoyed self went to get it for him), when things went south.
-Mother ? Mother are you alright ?! MOM !
You don’t really know what happened. You felt a painful prick on your thigh, where your fancy dress was opening slightly, as if you just got stung by a wasp, and all of a sudden…Everything went blurry. Next thing you know, your youngest son is trying to catch you before you hit the floor, and his arms are holding you with all his strength, as if afraid you’d disappear.
-Father, father ! Dad ! DAD !!
You can feel Damian shake, but you can’t see properly the line of his face…his distress is making your heart tighten, and you have to reassure him but when you try to raise a hand to cup his cheek and stroke it gently, nothing happen.
You hear more than you see Bruce falling on his knees next to you. You feel his hands taking you away from Damian, you feel your son resisting a bit, reluctant of letting you go, you feel yourself raising from the floor…But you don’t get it.
What is happening ?
Your vision is even more blurry than a few minutes before, and the last thing you hear before drifting into total darkness is Bruce saying :
-What the Hell happened ?
Everything goes dark as you fell unconscious. Your husband feels you go limp in his arms, but before he can really react, a man in the assistance, wearing a gaz mask and khakis stands on a table and, with his best evil laugh, says :
-My names is Mutagen, and you can bet that by the end of this week, I’ll be the most famous criminal in all Gotham. Spread the word, especially to Batman.
Jason almost catch him on the spot, but the man jumps out the window and disappears…Who the hell was he ?
A/N: I was so inspired by this gif set of a ‘dark angel” Stiles that I had to write something for it. I’m calling this a drabble because there’s no real plot, but it’s definitely a longggg drabble. lol Thank you to @minhosmeanhoe for editing it, because I’m sure she did. Also I wrote this in like 2 hours so and I will edit it any further tomorrow if need be. lol I couldn’t find the creator of this gif or gifset, but if someone or the creator messages me ! I will be more than happy to tag them and give them credit. But I did not make this gif nor am I the owner of it.
Word count: 2737
Warning: It’s kind of dark and talks about the devil, and there’s smut (;
Summary:Sons of Anarchy meets Supernatural. In this AU, the Winchesters run the most notorious biker gang in Lawrence. They traffic illegal drugs, weapons, and anything else that makes them money and keeps them on top. Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Crowley, Jo Harvelle, Meg Masters. Mentioned - Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Ruby. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Word Count: 1,432 Warnings: I’m a horrible person. I’m sorry. Author’s Note:This series isn’t going to be light and fluffy. It will include explicit language, explicit sexual content, casual use of illegal drugs, explicit canon typical violence.Miss the beginning?GIF credit [x][x] Picture found on Google Images.
From the moment you slipped into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness, you ran as far as you could. Away from the constant stabs of pain in your gut; the way the serrated blades caught on and tore through your skin, slicing ungracefully through the layers of muscles and organs. Or the constant pulse of your heartbeat against your brain. It was crippling, making you cry out wordlessly in utter agony. But it didn’t matter how far you went, you could still feel the hot bursts of Gadreel’s breath on your neck, smell the sourness of it on the tip of his tongue. Blood and violence got him off, and you could feel him go hard against your back, the way his body shuddered as desire rolled through him.
The helplessness you felt was nothing compared to three years ago. You remembered dragging yourself across the floor, slipping in your own blood as you sought out your cell phone. You had been so sure you were going to die, that if you could have, you would be laughing at yourself. Because now, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Gadreel would succeed in killing you.
You don’t know how long you’d been running or how long you’d been hidden in the deepest part of yourself, rocking back and forth, whispering nonsense to yourself when a gruff voice was talking to you, begging you to wake up.
“Baby, please,” he pleaded, emotion choking him. “I need you to wake up.”
You knew that voice, you just couldn’t place it. It was enough to fill you with curiosity and pull you from the ground. He said it again, clearer this time, and that’s when it hit you. “Dean,” you breathed, his name rolling off your tongue effortlessly.
There was a brush of calloused skin on your hand and it made you jump back. Not because it scared you, but because it sent a thrill slithering down your spine. A sense of urgency pushed down the fear, stomping it into nothing. With your heart pounding, you tore away from your safe place and ran towards Dean’s voice.
Being pursued by an Alpha was positively flattering and absolutely nerve-wracking at the exact same time. You were an omega. When an Alpha of caliber began to take interest in you, your pheromones yanked you one way while your ever logical mind pulled you in the opposite. You were analytical, calculating, smart; your wits often trumping your instinct when it came to these mating dances that Alphas liked to start.
To most Alpha’s, getting an Omega was a game, a notch in their bed post, a tally mark on their roster. Laying with one they hadn’t marked as theirs was enthralling, exhilarating but ultimately a simple ends to a means. Omegas, however, had a susceptibility to forming emotional attachments to those they laid with during moments of high hormonal exchanges. While it was by no means definite in every encounter, there was a chance and you didn’t want that. Of course, you knew, Alphas and Omegas were individuals. While base biology laid out a framework, personalities, genetic makeup, culture, individual hormone levels, sexualities, any number of factors could change one’s true selves and how their secondary sex affected them. But still you couldn’t risk it.
Except you wanted to. God you wanted to. For him at least.
Reaper wasn’t like other Alpha’s. You had chastised yourself so many times for thinking that cliched chick flick line. But it was really how you felt. Talon was not lacking in agents that fell along the entire secondary sexual spectrum; Alphas, Betas, Omegas and even the occasional Gamma. Reaper was a Prime Alpha, the top of the top, whose simple aura demanded assent from fellow Alphas and subservience from Betas and Omegas. He had the ability to bed whomever he liked and any who ended up there would thank him for the opportunity. And yet, the man had never flaunted his status. Hell, you had barely seen this man take an interest in anyone around him other than Sombra and Widowmaker, which seem strictly professional if somewhat familial, or the occasional agent who incurred his wrath. Until you. You had initially taken his attention for trouble, assuming you had drawn the ire of the organization’s top mercenary by running your mouth.
You were a field agent, albeit one who didn’t get to see as much high-intensity action as he did. You usually were one of the first in; assessing the area, analyzing weak points, pointing out pitfalls, setting up exit routes and traps before getting out and allowing shock troopers to pour in. It wasn’t uncommon for you to stay on comms to instruct agents on where to go. You had learned very early to grow a thick skin as an omega, more often than not Alphas on the field didn’t want to listen to you. They openly bucked up against your instructions, questioning your decisions and mocking your suggestions. ‘Your life is in my hands and if you want to fucking live you will listen’ had become your motto.
You had said that statement so many times it fell from your lips automatically, so when you had spat it at Reaper you immediately paled. It had been instinctual, Reaper was being cornered by that Soldier: 76 vigilante and he seemed hell bent on pursuing him further into the factory despite the fact the building was being stormed by recalled Overwatch agents. So you yelled your line, let him know that there was a air duct he could mist through several halls back and that if he wanted to make it he would take it. Then silence had hung heavy and terrifying in the comms until Sombra’s entertained laughter crackled through the line. Reaper growled, and the noise had sent every single Omega instinct inside of your reeling, demanding that you apologize while your pride refused to let you. Watching your holo-pad you watched him double back, fingers dancing over the screen as security feed turned into thermal and Reaper made his way back to where the rest of his small team was. Before signing out of your device, ‘RIP’ in bold neon purple lettering popped up across your screen.
Since then, the Reaper had made it a point to seek you out. You were shocked the first time you heard him say your name, a shiver rushing down your spine when the deep timbre of his voice reached your ears. You had frozen, waiting for him to yell at you for bucking out of your position, but it never came. Instead, without saying the exact words, it felt like he gave you a begrudging thank you. He had made it a point to seek you out, a few words the first few days morphing into near daily conversations whenever you both were on the base together. You found yourself seeking him out despite your mind telling your mind telling you to be cautious, your pheromones overwhelming them and building a small bit of hope against the barriers you had set up to protect you from situations just like this.
He made you feel surprisingly comfortable, his biting sarcasm and wit making you laugh and giggle(fucking giggle), and you could feel something building inside of you every time you were around him. He didn’t question your intelligence, he enjoyed listening to you speak about your interests and you in turn the same for him. The both of you were strategical and a mutual respect formed when speaking about battle plans. After missions, he’d come to your quarters with absolutely no false pretenses, he’d just listen to you explain how things had gone on the field and occasionally he’d share how things went on his missions. For someone as guarded as you, allowing an Alpha into your quarters was a huge step, and he recognized that. He granted you his name and you had felt honored, this gift better than any bullshit jewelry or piece of clothing or food some other Alpha had tried to woo you with before. Woo…that’s not what this was supposed to be, although you were doing a poor job of convincing yourself of that.
You raked your fingers through your sweat-soaked hair, releasing a slow, shuddering breath as your tried to center yourself. Reap–no Gabriel, was due to stop by this evening; he was returning from a week-long mission in Egypt and you knew he would be by here soon enough. You tried to calm the excitement that was growing in your stomach, but you truly didn’t know if you wanted to. Your heat had swept in hard and fast, your mind was a confused jumble as you tried to find reason in what you were feeling. You liked him, or at least you thought you did. You piqued your interest, he didn’t question your intelligence, he made you feel wanted. And he wanted you too…right? Or was that your heat-riddled mind reading further into this than what it was.
Shaking your head, you huffed and shook your hands hard as if that would help to shake away those feeling of uncertainty before going back to building your nest. You had already spread all the softest blankets and cushions onto your bedroom floor, your normal nest gear, but now you were hovering in your living room. Comfortable living had always been something you focused on, soft pillows and blanket laid across your small couch. The scent of Gabriel had soaked into them and your heat heightened senses drew you to them like a magnet. But every time you went to pick up one of the pillows or the thin blanket, to drink in his scent, you hesitated. Could you trust these feelings?
Ambivalence hung heavy in your breast as your fingers grazed over the blanket, your hand tightening into the fabric and shivering as his heady scent filled your nostrils. Your fist tightened around the soft fabric, your movements still timid as you pulled the blanket into your arms, hugging the fabric to you. An unconscious keen rose from your throat, a lazy smile tugging across your lips. Smoke and sandalwood and musk intertwined with the normal lighter, sweeter scent of you.
“You look much happier when you give in cariño.”
“Holy fucking shit!”
You practically jumped out of your skin, actually jumping two feet into the air and away from the part man-part wraith, twisting around to see his smirking form. Another perk of getting close to the Alpha was he allowed you to see his unmasked face. Another shred of evidence perhaps? Shaking your head you tried to calm your drumming heart, knowing that your shouldn’t have been too surprised. You and Gabriel had a system involving the decorative magnets on your door; if the cute round barn owl was up, the man could wraith in, if it was down, he had to message you before he entered. You had left it up, unconsciously wanting him to immediately come to you. You couldn’t hide your delight that he had.
The man stood before you, sans his normal trench coat, gauntlet and body armor. Just those impossibly tight black cargo pants, his black combat boots and a black t-shirt that you swore had to be painted on over the succulent muscles of his chest shoulders and arms. His dark skin had that impossibly cool gray undertone, your fingers itching to drag over the scars and keloided wounds, to learn the stories behind them. You wondered how his thick black curls would feel between your hands, clenched between your fists as you pulled him to you and begged–oh god you were tumbling down that rabbit hole hard.
You gulped hard, trying to temper your body’s volatile reaction to him. Pleasure instantly began to pool in between your legs, your thighs squeezing tight together, your face flushing in desire as you tried to form words. No, this wasn’t right. You couldn’t do this. But god did you want this, wanted him. Your eyes were big as you stared at him, gaze frantic as you looked at the man, trying to calm the sea of emotion that churned in your mind. Gabriel took a half step forward, his hand reaching out to rest on your cheek confidently. His touch was cooler than you imagined, small tendrils of black smoke curling off of his dark skin, your body unconsciously melting into his contact. His thumb brushed right under you eyes, your gaze jumping up to meet his sanguine orbs; the calmness he exuded beginning to penetrate your frenzied mind.
“Why are you resisting your nature?”
Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, your mouth open and closing several times before you were able to form anything comprehensible.
“I-I want…n-no need… I… fuck… I-I’m confused”, you stuttered, before your words melted into a soft purr as he awarded you with an affectionate stroke of the cheek for sharing. You couldn’t see, but your pupils were already dilated, more black than iris in your gaze, a tell-tale sign you were beginning to tiptoe further into your heat. “I-I th-think I want you….I-I re-really do b-but I can’t! I-I can’t…”
“Why can’t you querida”, he asked, turning your face in his hand, no judgement behind his eyes. He simply wanted your answer. “Resisting your nature is only going to make it worst. I can smell it on you. You want this, you want me to make you mine. Hell, I want it too, Y/N. So what are you fighting for?”
“What if it’s just the heat”, you exclaimed, your hands pushing the blanket tighter against your chest. You took a half step back, immediately missing his touch as you left his range. He allowed you to move away but you could see that he was not going to leave, not that you would ask him to. You fidgeted with the blanket, wanting to tear your eyes away but you couldn’t. Your body was practically swaying, the sudden rush of body heat making you dizzy. But you were determined to get your point across. You didn’t want to blow this with him, you didn’t want to possibly lose him. “I feel like I want you but I don’t want…don’t want to second guess it. Can't… Can’t you fuck me without claiming me? Please?”
You fidgeted, trying to force down the keen that was in your throat as you looked at him, unconsciously pouring charm in waves towards the Alpha. Gabriel gave you a small half-nod, your eyes growing round in surprised excitement, the excited noise that left your throat making the Alpha chuckle.
“We can take this as slow or fast as you’d like cariño”, he answered, opening his arms up for you to move into. He was allowing for it to be your call, no pressure, no intimidation. Your eyes dropped to his chest then back up to his face before you surged forward, the blanket still held tight to you.
The self control that the Prime Alpha had been exerting was lost when you threw yourself at him, one of your arms looping around his neck as you pressed your lips hard to his. He growled ravenously against your lips, his arms looping around your waist, crushing your body hard against his. You shuddered, your body on fire as his hands finally had their chance to explore, running up and down your spine and sides, drawing desperate mewls from your mouth. His tongue swept at your bottom lip demanding entrance, your lips parting to oblige, moaning desperately as you tasted him for the first time. He tasted like smoke and spice and just–right.
“N-nest pl-please”, you begged, pulling away from his lips as you tried to pull air into your lungs. Your mind was beginning to go, you were turning into nothing more than a bundle of nerve and instincts and you needed to be in your nest with him. You barely heard his growled ‘where’ as your kiss swollen lips found his again, stuttering softly against his own. “B-b-bedroom!”
You gasped in surprise as Gabe hoisted you up by your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist as he walked through your small apartment. Your nails dug into his shoulders, his head dipping into your neck and nipping and suckling at the sensitive skin at the crux of your shoulder. Your legs tightened around his waist, pressing you more firmly against his covered length, your head leaning against his when he finally made it into your room. He was ridiculously careful when he put you into the bundle of blankets, a shiver rolling down your spine as he hovered over you. He licked his lips, a slow smirk crawling onto his features, a predatory gaze taking over his features. Still he waited for a tick, his eyes drifting up and down your body, his hands hovering but not exactly touching yet. Testing, making sure.
“Please”, you begged, back arching up and off of the soft cushions, your eyes growing misty. He was not your Alpha, but in this moment there was nothing, no one else but you two. “I’m burning up, please Gabriel…”
“Shh”, he ordered, straddling your waist, his cool hands moving under your shirt and pushing the fabric up and off. The tears in your eyes rolled down your cheeks, your body arching towards his touch. “Quiet now, I’ll take care of you.”
Gabriel’s hands made quick work at removing the rest of your clothes, a soft sigh falling from your lips in absolute relief as the cooler air of the room caressed your skin. He sat back, admiring your body, a low rumble of appreciation in his chest. Your entire body was flushed, a light sheen of sweat covering you from head to toe. Your thighs and nethers were covered in slick, your nipples hard, your lips parted and your eyes half shaded as you stared up at him, hair fanned like a halo around your face. You were the perfect image of desire and he wasn’t going to hold back anymore.
His shirt came off and his shoes had been toed off before he entered your nest, his lips finding your nipples and pulling them into your mouth. He groaned around the hard bud, your hands tightening into his hair. His tongue flicked and circled the hard bud, sucking hard until your back arched off of the nest once more. His hand dove between your legs, a scream torn from your lips as soon as his finger touched your heated sex. He wasted no time, slipping between your sopping lips and finding your clitoris, an orgasm tearing through your body. Your thighs clamped around his hand and trapped it, or at least they tried. He was stronger than you on a regular day. When you were in heat, pushing your thighs back open was effortless, his fingers circling around your hypersensitive bud.
“No no amorcita”, he practically purred to you, pulling away from your breast with a pop. Your face burned even brighter now, your body on fire with the need to feel him, to have him inside of you. “You’re burning up right? You need it right? I’m not small, querida. You gotta be nice and relaxed…”
You nodded at each of his questions, whining desperately, taking his lack of immediate action as a no.
“P-p-please”, you begged, your hand dragging down from his hair and to the side of his neck. Your fingertip traced over the sensitive areas that a mating mark would go, an extremely erogenous zone as you begged. You could see the shudder roll through him, the bare chested man releasing a low, warning growl as he looked down at you. “Please please….I need….please?”
He pulled back, tears actually flowing from your eyes as he sat completely back on his feet, a petulant sob leaving your lips. He shook his head at you, a chastising look at trying to coerce him into fucking him before you were ready. Gabriel kept his fingers on your soaked cunt, his other hand moving to rest gently on your hips to keep you in place and prevent you from sitting up. His fingers dragged down from your swollen clit before two of his thick digits were pressed inside of you, your hips rocking to try and gain more traction. Your walls were molten hot, Gabriel biting his bottom lip at how tightly you were squeezing his fingers. Gabriel moved slow, scissoring his fingers inside of your carefully as he stretched you out. It wasn’t enough, your hips trying to rock and twist to take more of him inside of you. A third joined the first two, more slick spilling over his fingers and hands, a choked keen of need rising from your chest. Still, the Alpha kept up his work, winding your body up and stretching you until he made an approving sound in the back of his throat.
When Gabriel pulled away from you completely, you felt as if you might fall completely apart, reaching out for him. He unbuttoned his pants with one hand, the other smoothing over your forehead, quietly shushing you, comforting you as he pushed his pants away and down. You drank in his touch, turning your face and nuzzling desperately against him, keening your need to him wordlessly. His cooler body temperature was heaven against your burning skin, and the physical contact calmed the raving need in your mind.
His other hand came to your face, making you focus in on him as his forehead came to touch yours. Your eyes were round and watery, his gaze heated and primal, his thumbs stroking either side of your face as he pressed several gentle kisses to your pleasure swollen lips. Soft, happy mewls met each his, your hands moving to gently hold his wrists in place, not wanting to lose his touch as he stabilized himself on his elbows.
“Spread your legs a little more”, he orders between tender kisses, your body obliging the Alpha as you tried to keep up with him. “Now relax cariño…”
His kisses got longer, deeper, hungrier as you felt him began to push himself forward, his lips capturing your moan as his head pressed against your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat, gaze finally tearing from his as he pushed inside of you, eyes shutting tight. Your own kisses stuttered against his as he pushed himself in half way before pulling out, a wanting sob wrested at the emptiness you felt. Gabriel stole the whine away, his lips crashing into yours as his thickness pressed into you again, your hips arching to meet him needily. He pulled back though, sending a clear message that he was in control and in charge of your pleasure, his hips rolling to push further into you and graze against the bundle of nerves inside of you. You sobbed and writhed beneath him, your body overwhelmed by every single sensation you were feeling.
Your lips and tongue were his, nips and kisses making them even more sensitive. Your hands could only claw at his forearms and shoulders and neck and back, completely lost at what to do with your hands, unable to ground yourself as you floated in pleasure. Every single stroke he drove inside of you sent slick dribbling, your thighs and calves and lower stomach twitching in pleasure. You were enraptured, you could die like this if it meant experiencing pleasure like this for your final moments. With him. God, this was all you could ask for, wasn’t it?
One of Gabe’s hand dragged away from your face, forcing itself between your bodies and finding your clit. No, this is how you would die. You jerked against him but his thrusts and touch were firm, his thumb circling your clit in tandem with a thrust against your g-spot. Every muscle in your body went stiff before you began to quake as your first true orgasm of your heat slammed through you, white taking over your vision as you arched into him. He didn’t let up, his thumb remaining dimly pressed against your clit as he continued to fill you up, your cries melting away into mewling, surprised breaths, another orgasm burning through you. Your vision went pleasantly fuzzy, your head lolling to the side as you were overcome with yet another orgasm. Gabriel’s dropped his face into the crux of your neck, kissing and nipping but pulling back just short of biting or claiming you, your body shivering as his brutal pace slowed, his cock still inside of you.
“Don’t worry”, he said, marking his words with a gentle kiss. “I’ve got you as long as you’ll have me.”
First of all the way you write Ignis is amazing <3 And I LOVED your Nightmare with Ignis. But what if it's the other way around? He is struggling with a nightmare(s) and need some comfort from his S/O? :3c (I'm 110% for angst!)
Ignis was drowning.
His lungs filled with water, and his limbs remained still, weighed down by an invisible force.
Why couldn’t he move?
He tried to thrash. Tried to breathe, but the inky darkness that surrounded him crept up along his skin in thin tendrils, tying him to the black abyss that threatened to swallow him whole. He struggled against his restraints, his mouth opened in a silent scream.
Above him, something appeared.
It was Noctis’ face, empty and blank. His once clear blue eyes were glazed over, his skin a deathly white.
Why have the Six cursed me? Ignis thought, panic rising like bile in his throat. Why have they granted me this one sight, while the rest of my existence is shrouded in darkness?
He started to struggle against his bonds again when Noctis’ dead eyes suddenly snapped to meet his. His lip curled into a snarl, his arm outstretched into a bloody claw.
“You failed me…”
Ignis felt tears stinging his eyes and tried to get away, but it was no use. He still couldn’t move. In the distance, he thought he heard someone calling his name. He tried to strain his hearing to pinpoint the voice, but he couldn’t quite find the direction it was coming from.
The bloody claw drew closer and closer, until it was almost upon him. It was just about to close around his throat when—
He bolted upright, drenched in cold sweat. Ignis panted, feeling the dampness of his night shirt as he tried to steady his breathing. He felt your hand touch his arm and he instinctively withdrew, thinking it had been the disfigured corpse of his best friend.
“Ignis,” your voice called to him, gentle and soft. “It’s okay. You were just having a nightmare.”
Ignis panted, feeling around him. His fingers were met with his plush duvet, and even though he couldn’t see, he realized he was back in his apartment, where he was safe, with you.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he finally managed, his shoulders curled inward as he gripped the sheets in his lap. “Sometimes it’s hard to differentiate between the darkness of my reality and the darkness within my dreams.”
You looked at your lover, the man who had given up so much of his life to the Crown, who had fought valiantly alongside his friends for years. It had been a few months since the light had returned to Insomnia, and ever since Noctis’ passing, he kept having these awful nightmares. It broke your heart to see someone so strong feeling so helpless.
You bit your lip. “Can I touch you? Is that okay?”
After a moment, he gave a nod.
You started off slow. Your fingers touched his forearm, and he flinched. You let the warmth of your palm seep into his skin before gently rubbing along his bicep, and then over to his back. You moved closer to him, pulling him in close. He leaned into your touch, finally, and you brought his head to your chest and rubbed comforting circles against his spine.
“It was just a dream, Iggy. It’s okay. I’m here for you, you don’t have to be scared.”
You could feel his breath starting to hitch, heard the small sniffle that he tried so hard to keep at bay. He never wanted to look weak in front of you, but he couldn’t help it. The nightmares were starting to compound, starting to take a toll on him. His arms came to wrap around you, hugging you tightly, like he was afraid that if he let go, he fall right back into that darkness again. You took his face in your hands and helped wipe away the tears that fell from his cloudy eye.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Ignis opened his mouth briefly, but closed it just as fast. He shook his head.
“It’s okay,” you said, stroking your thumb over his cheek bone. “If you’re not ready, it’s alright. But just know that you don’t have to be ashamed, okay? They’re just dreams. They don’t control you.”
Ignis nodded, but you weren’t certain that he believed you. You pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, and then the other side, then his nose, and then a lingering one to his lips. You felt him respond, to your relief, and pulled away, resting your forehead against his.
“Do you want me to make you a cup of Ebony to calm your nerves?”
Ignis nodded again. “I think I’d like that.”
“Alright.” You rose from the bed and he got up with you, not wanting to be alone. You took his hand and brought him to the kitchen, and he held you from behind while you made his coffee.
You stayed up with him until the sun rose, the warmth of daylight kissing his skin. In the light of day, in the safety of your arms, he could escape the darkness of his unconscious mind. At least for a little while longer.
The Reader resists the imprint, much to Paul’s chagrin, as she wants to keep her independence
Ive never done Twilight before so here’s a shot at it
You tried to ignore the chill that ran up your spine, not because the breeze had picked up and the sun had shielded itself with a cloud, but because you watched the last of the pack swim toward their net destination, a flat rock 30 yards away, you realized not only that you we’re alone with your imprint, but his increasing proximity. Refusing to turn around, you felt the old dock shift as he moved, his weight causing it to shift and groan.
“We have to talk about this.” Paul murmured lowly, though his voice seemed to roar in your ear. Your eyes fell closed against it, against him. He tentatively touched your arm, so you had no choice but to face him, albeit stepping back as you did so. It was hard to notice that the laughter and splashing that accompanied the rest of the boys had died out, meaning they had either continued their journey across the rocks that jutted out from the water, or, more likely, they were watching the two of you, waiting for a favorable outcome.
“No we don’t, I’m going to continue to pretend it never happened and you should consider doing the same.” Your voice sounded harsh in your ears but you willed yourself to stay strong. The idea of being an imprint was new to you, not something you couldn’t handle but it had been so sudden. One minute you we’re just a normal kid, offering witty commentary for your merry band of idiots you called friends, but now, now it was something else. Now they all looked at you differently, as if you were different, as if you were his and they were afraid to get too close. You just wanted it to be the same as before.
Paul had taken a step closer, craning his neck down to look at you through long lashes, and you tried to ignore the fluttering and burning that stirred in your chest. This aching, radiating burn happened whenever Paul was around, as if your body was trying to tell you something your mind wouldn’t accept. Within a moment, your logical sense kicked in, you were not a prize to be won, something to be claimed as a mate.
“That’s not how this works and you know it.” he said, an edge to his voice that was all too audible.
“And yet that’s how it has to be.” You state lowly, and before he could respond, looking at you tentatively with his lip caught between his teeth, a wave sent the dock lurching, throwing you off balance and straight into your imprint. His arms braced you as your legs fought for balance, and it wasn’t until you looked up that you realized he was looking at you as if he intended to kiss you, and when he tilted his head, to your horror, your observation became a reality. For a moment you considered it, some invisible force tying you together, drawing you into him, closing the gap
With a gasp you pulled away. You had let yourself get too close. All the things you detested came back. The idea that someone was clipping your wings of freedom, splicing away your individuality, all without a word of consent from you. Like an arrangement beyond your control, you were expected to accept your fate tethered to this supernatural being, to this supernatural life you neither asked for or we’re interested in. You stumbled backwards on the still unsteady dock.
“No, no i can’t, I didn’t ask for this, and I cant, I cant think with you here, I can’t be here” You couldn’t bear to wait and see the look on Paul’s face as you delivered what seemed to be the final blow, so you turned as gracefully as you could manage and dove into the water, hoping the frigid temperatures would awaken your senses and clear your head. You swam more gracefully than walked, quickly moving toward shore without needing a breath. As you went to kick to the surface, your ankle burned and stayed in place. Reaching down, you noticed the small clasp was stuck on something tethered to the ocean floor. Pulling and pulling, you almost gave up, no use in dislodging whatever was anchoring you to the ocean floor. In a last ditch effort you tried to slip the anklet over your foot, but it proved to no avail, as it was a well fitted as it had been the day it was given to you. Your lungs started to scream as panic set in, images of your watery grave flashing before your closed eyes. You had used so much energy flailing and fighting to unhook yourself, your lungs ached and burned and your we’re simply exhausted, and your mind started to fog. You could’ve sworn you heard a splash close by but it was likely your imagination as you slipped into the dark unconscious.
Sputtering for air, you lurched forward, couching out what seemed like half the ocean in your lungs. Your trachea burned and a strong hand came to gently back your back, trying to help your breathing return. An unseen hand wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and when you looked up, you saw the familiar face of Emily, who nodded and moved to stand beside Sam, who was amongst the rest of the pack, drying themselves a ways away. Looking beside you, you found a sopping wet Paul, eyes brimming with concern. He cared, he cared as more than a stupid imprint, he actually cared about you. You realized, a sense of remorse threatening to pull you under.
“I, uh, I’ll just” Paul started awkwardly, and made a motion to leave, and after your last conversation, you couldn’t blame him. Reaching out, you clasped his forearm, and pulled him closer,
“Stay” You said, voice still weak after the burn of the ocean water. Without saying a word, Paul moved closer, allowing you to bury yourself into his eternally warm chest, and the safety of being held and the security it brought, was enough to lull you towards sleep. This was it, this was what you had been searching for, but you were too busy running from Paul to acknowledge the potential brilliance of your relationship, the way it felt right, like two puzzle pieces finally interlocking, like everything would be alright again. Clutching him tightly, you murmured, “I think I might love you.” as you fell into the sleep that was beckoning you into its arms, and just as you were about to give into it, you heard a low rumble, “I think I love you too.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Y/N.” Detective Do breathed out and you had to refrain from chuckling.
“I’ve only talked about one year of my 103-year-old life, my first lover out of eight, Detective. Close your gaping mouth, remember to blink and let me continue;
The name of my second lover was Zhang Yixing. Fleeing Siheung after the car accident, I sneaked onto a train without knowing it’s destination. I ended up in Beijing, and from there I was lucky enough to be employed as a maid in a large mansion half an hour from the capital.
After a few years working for my master, Mr. Zhang, he succumbed to a lung disease, leaving the house for his nephew and grandnephew. His grandnephew, Zhang Yixing, fell in love with me at first sight and I ultimately fell in love with his pursuing. Our love was sweet yet rough around the edges, but threatening it, was his father’s plan of marrying him off to someone else.”
The Zhang Mansion in the outskirts of Beijing, China, Late 1947
The sun was blinding when you leisurely stepped out of the mansion. The warm air was almost uncomfortable as you tugged on the thick layer of your skirt and apron. The collar of your dress was low on your collarbones due to your constant fiddling with it, and the arms of the dress were pulled up to level with your breasts due to the heat. Your eyes scanned the vast and well kept front yard, quickly finding the very man you were looking for - Yixing, waiting on you just as planned.
However, he was not alone. By his side, was a young Chinese woman with long, straight onyx hair and a wonderful, long, cream colored dress. They were both standing opposite to your master, Yixing’s father, and after a few seconds, realization dawned upon you and a stinging feeling of worry and jealousy summoned inside your chest. The sweat on your back was suddenly caused by other reasons than the striking heat, and your chest tightened with nervousness.
Was that the woman his father wanted him to marry? He didn’t seem too uncomfortable with her clinginess. Did he enjoy it? Had he noticed you?
Women have a special problem. Initially, when any man first sees a glamorous example of femininity, an instantaneous shift takes place. He enters his T & A room. I don’t mean to say he turns and physically leaves. That would be very odd; a girl perched prettily on a stool with men spotting her then madly scrambling out and physically diving into their T & A rooms. No. It’s an event in the mind that crackles at the speed of light. He lays eyes on her and “Bam!” into the T & A room. You might ask, “Well what exactly is the T & A room?” We’ll get to that. Just please understand that when Charlie first stands there stunned into silence by the breathtaking beauty before him, he doesn’t really see her.
Oh, he takes an initial snapshot all right, but now he’s rummaging around looking through the shelves labeled “blonde hair”, “high cheekbones”, “very shapely legs” and other stuff, making instantaneous comparisons. He’s reminiscing through his various recollections of the high school beauty queen, his sister, the girl, who liked him a lot, the girl who he dreamed about, and literally thousands of other loved and cherished memories. The mound of Playboy and other trashy magazines he had read when younger are also included, of course and are used in making the comparison, this all happening instantaneously. You have to get an idea of the size of the T & A room. It’s huge, as you might imagine, contains every memory he has ever had that would apply to this particular circumstance, the beauty in front of him. Now, in a case one or two of you are still wondering what T & A means, let me enlighten you now; T & A stands for temptation and admiration so the T & A room is the Temptation and Admiration room. If you don’t believe me, just ask anyone. They’ll tell you. And typically, men spend a great deal of time here happily thumbing through their recollections, smiling and perusing the massive numbers of memories, the shelves and drawers looking for entertainment. One more thing about the T & A room. It has a door at the far end with a sign which shouts in capital letters, “Restricted Area! Jungian Psychologists Only. All others, enter at your own risk!” If you open the door it leads down rough stone steps and into darkness, the Collective Unconscious. This is where the Anima lives. This is where the feminine aspects of every man secretly reside. The Anima is, in short, the woman in a man, the archetype which rules over the relationship between men and women. It is a kind of innate guide that leads one through the ambiguous path of meeting the woman and interacting with her. Here we find the Mother archetype, Mother Earth, The Lover, The Sophia or the Wisdom of God from the Gnostic, living beyond the annoying light of the Ego.
The point is that physically attractive ladies have difficulty getting to know men because the men hold them in such high regard, and on such a high pedestal, that they (the men) become tongue-tied and choked on their own adrenaline, and it takes time for the Goddess Image to fade and the human being named Nancy or Katerina to replace it. So please have patience ladies, he’ll come to his senses. Eventually.
My thanks to Kati Magoon whom I dedicate this paper to. Without her inspiration this effort would never have seen the light of day. Jon Hassinger, astrological instructor and contributor to Astrolocherry.
Imagine: Corrin losing sense of self while in dragon form and their s/o tries to calm them down.
Notes: this is actually a prompt I’ve sent to other blogs but you know, it stuck with me and I was like, WHY NOT TRY IT MYSELF BECAUSE I QUITE LIKE THIS IDEA HMM so there you go.
Ft. Ryoma, Silas, Saizo, Jakob, Takumi, Kaze
Ryoma: The prince’s grip tightened on his weapon as he struggled with the heavy emotions of despair and apprehension. You were placed in charge of the East front, so having learned it was under heavy fire and suffering heavy casualties gave him much worry and anxiety. Although his heart screamed for him to rush to your immediate aid, his duty demanded him to stay put and finish his part in this battle. That was until a heavy grip landed on his shoulder and he turned to meet the eyes of his retainers.
“Go milord, we’ll handle this.” Saizo gave a stiff nod as he deflected a dagger from reaching the prince.
Sucking in a pained breath, Ryoma relented, sheathing Raijinto in one smooth move. “You have my thanks, Saizo, Kagero.” Borrowing a horse from a soldier, he rode as fast as he could, praying under his breath that you’re safe.