#anon plot

[anon-e-miss]

This is a total non sequitur, but I have an anecdote I want to use as a segue into a J/P concept. So, when I was in my early twenties (over a decade ago), I had this girlfriend who was such great fun to go out with. We always had a TON of fun when we got together; we went to sex clubs and snuggled in the back rooms, we went to a dollar theater to watch Jurassic Park on the big screen (it wasn’t a new movie, to be clear) and threw popcorn for each other to catch and eat, just like… Totally a good time all around. The problem was it didn’t feel like we were actually in a relationship because she’d literally go a month without even texting because her work kept her so busy.

We broke up on really amicable terms. Just agreed that it had been fun for both of us, that we were looking for different things from relationships, and gave each other a hug and kiss goodbye after probably the best date I ever got to have with anyone.

I’m in a sort of nostalgic mood tonight and got to thinking back on that. And it made me think, ‘huh, Prowl could totally be me in this scenario and Jazz could be the super fun partner who parties hard and works harder’ (she was an ER nurse who worked 12+ hour shifts a lot).

And that was kind of a fun thought for me? Since this is a fond, happy memory, and I’m always making them suffer, it seemed like a nice change of pace. Like… Jazz and Prowl get together when they’re young adults, have a fantastic time together, but Jazz has spec ops work that makes him ghost for orns at a time and even though Prowl loves their time together, he just doesn’t feel like this is a Relationship. It’s too casual for him, he can’t stand waiting for answers to texts that just…never come. So they have a great ‘last’ date and breakup. Become fond memories for each other.

And then, partly because I’m mean but mostly because I want to drag this away from my real life: what if they ended up on opposite sides of the war and met again? (Or what if Prowl had kids with someone else, or if Jazz had sired a couple and ended up with custody, or…any number of scenarios)

Anyway, if this was too personal, I apologize. I just felt like it’d be too disingenuous to frame this as purely fictional and hypothetical when it’s based on my real life. I’d rather be honest about it so you can just delete this if it weirds you out. XD

I can absolutely see this for them.

Many of my plots have been inspired by parts of my life or family lore.

I like them both having had lives and sparklings and very unexpectedly still coming back together.

[bonksoundeffect]

[Judgement intensifies]

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing References: Plot

Basics: Plot Structure & Narrative Arcs

Basics: Plot & Other Elements of Creative Writing

Plot Methods: Save the Cat! ⚜ The Story Circle

Plot Development: The Transformation Test

Plot-Driven Story ⚜ Plotting a Novel ⚜ Plot-Planning Worksheet

Plot Twists ⚜ Types of Plot Twists ⚜ Subplots

Ten Story Genres ⚜ Elements of the 10 Story Genres

The 3-Act Structure: History & Elements ⚜ A Guide

The Shape of Story ⚜ The Shapes of Stories by Kurt Vonnegut

Tips

From Margaret Atwood ⚜ From Rick Riordan

Before Writing your Novel ⚜ Burying Information

How to Get "Unstuck" when Writing your Novel

Editing

Chapter Maps ⚜ Editing your Own Novel

Plot Holes & Other Structural Issues ⚜ Structural Edit

Self-Editing ⚜ Novel Editing

For Inspiration

Archetypal Narrative Arcs ⚜ Character & Literary Tropes

Snowflake Method ⚜ Ways to Generate an Idea

Writing References: Character Development ⚜ World-building

[erwinsvow]

uuuh love the kook!best friend idea??? the trio would be so overprotective of her??? at keggers she would just make small talk with some pogues and they'll be 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️like right next to her!

- 🔮

rafe is getting weirdly possessive over you, you think for a moment, standing near the keg and waiting patiently for your turn to get a drink. you don't think he's ever been so.... territorial. or maybe he has been, and you've just been ignoring it, thinking that he's been a really good, really close friend—looking out for you the way he does.

you can feel eyes burning holes into the back of your head, three sets of eyes in particular. your friends are funny—charmingly stupid, annoying arrogant, and a whole host of other things, but they've always been funny. it's why you guys get along so well, you return their jokes and comments at the same pace, more often than not even cracking jokes that make rafe break his stoic facade.

but he has been, you reflect, stepping up to whichever pogue is pouring the beer today—breaking his facade. you thought you were going a little crazy, thinking that he's actually being nicer to you, until kelce and top comment on it too. even today, he picked you up from your place first, letting you crawl into the front seat even though the other boys complain about being smushed in the back endlessly. he complimented your dress, even asked if it was new, which it was. he even got you your first drink without you asking for it, the strawberry seltzer that you're sure the pogues hosting didn't have lying around.

you feel surprisingly giddy about it—after all, you're still a girl, still their newer friend. like any other girl, you worry your new friends won't like you or that there's some ulterior motive going on. rafe's being a little weird, but he's always thinking about something that he doesn't talk about until days later. you think it'll pass like it always does.

"ah, ah," the blond pogue boy says—the cute one some of your girl friends buy weed from occasionally, when rafe can't deliver. "what's the magic word?"

you giggle at his antics, your worry about rafe floating away. you keep chatting with him, reaching in for the red cup twice, that he pulls up and over his head—impossible for you to grasp.

fifteen feet away, rafe watches jj tease you with the beer cup, jaw clenching while top and kelce see what he's staring at.

"see, boys. now that is not okay." he gestures to you with the cup in his own hand, watching your tiny dress ride up as you jump to get your beer from jj. "that pogue is disrespectin' our girl."

"rafe, i think it's just a joke-" top interjects, but he gets interrupted himself.

"nah, nah, man. these pogues. they think it's funny. i'll show him funny. c'mon." rafe stalks over, and the two boys follow. you don't notice but jj does, lowering the cup and staring at something—or someone—behind you.

"havin' fun, huh?" rafe questions, and you spin around. the jerk scared you—kelce and top surrounding you like bodyguards.

"guys, what are you-"

"i think she's all set, pogue. you can fuck off now."

"don't you have some store to rob?"

"guys, c'mon, it's a beer-"

"it's alright, princess, i see these three musketeers have an issue, so i'll just catch you around, hm?"

jj walks away, leaving the beer he poured for you on the log. you smile apologetically at him, fist clenching in anger at your stupid, stupid friends.

"you idiots. what the hell was that? i can't even talk to someone now-"

"what the hell's that mean, i'll catch you around?" rafe says, cutting you off. "you talkin' to that pogue?"

you pick up the beer and splash it over rafe's head.

"no, you asshole. it's a figure of speech and we live on the same island. jesus christ."

[new-revenant]

Danny as Phantom walks into a justice league meeting with clear and sloppy stitching on his suit, he has bruises all over his face and what's visible of his neck. He has multiple bandages on his face. Everyone just stares at him until Flash asks what happened and Danny just shrugs and explained he had an encounter with the G.I.W on Friday and spent the weekend as one of their test subjects. The league is not happy about this

This ask implies that he’s already part of the JL in this, and I like that. I also like to think that it implies that he and Flash are friends. I’d think they’d be friends.

The League would likely be aware of his 2-3 day absence. They couldn’t contact him and the couldn’t locate him during that time. This is typical when he goes to the Ghost Zone, but when they go to his last known location, they couldn’t locate any nearby portals. They hope that Wulf or some other ghost took him away for idk, Ghost King stuff, but they do try to keep tabs on ectoplasmic activity around the world, just in case he got kidnapped. Which is what unfortunately happened.

Danny stumbles inside in the middle of a meeting. The chatter stops, and Flash catches Danny before he falls to the ground. He asks what happened, and Danny, in between stilted, uneven breaths, says that the GIW took him. They took him and experimented on him to figure out…something. He doesn’t know, but he knows that they must be stopped. The JL members at the meeting start to hatch a plan and Flash directs Danny to free chair, carefully, and gets him some food, water, and some medical supplies before he can even think of saying “I’m fine.” Danny wants to go with them, to help stop the GIW, but everyone can see he’s in no condition to fight anybody. Eventually, they come to the comprise of him being the “man in the chair,” guiding them through an earpiece and hacked security cams(he wasn’t to one to hack them haha).

[hurlingdown]

hi hi! I was wondering, since you're one of my favorite writers, could u plzzz do little fic with law giving himself as a present to m!reader for his birthday?

(its my bday, dk if u care tho lol)

imagine having trafalgar law on your lap, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed a pretty pink, letting out small breathy moans as he works himself up and down your cock. 

it’s your birthday, and you’ve just returned to your room, but he had insisted on doing this, saying that it was all part of his gift to you. you were beginning to think that mind-blowing sex was the present he had prepared—not that you were complaining. 

it’s not until he’s shuddering and gasping, a moment away from tipping over the edge, gazing at you with so much love and want that you almost forget to breathe, that he shakily conjures a Room. 

“Mes,” he whispers, and cuts out his heart for you. 

you see it then: carved into red, pumping muscle, in neat black ink, is your name. 

you tremble, pulling him in for a kiss, hands shaky as you gently grasp your present, tracing every artery, feeling every pulse. all of it, permanently yours. 

“happy birthday,” he gasps against your lips, coming apart, and if you hadn’t realised, you know it for sure now: falling in love with trafalgar law is anything but fleeting. it is a strange sort of dance, sweet and saccharine at times, and in others, crowded with great tides of an inexplicable yearning to own and possess, heavy and intimate and soulful. 

law knows this very well, and you do too: because at the end of the day, what’s his is yours.

[shepscapades]

Hey Shep! Idk if this is a weird question but, do you ship hex (Helsknight x EX)? This might just be me misremembering things but I could’ve sworn you said something about shipping them in the tags of one of your posts. You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable I’m just genuinely curious.

[bluegiragi]

okay, first of all, absolutely goddamn feral about you, your art, writing, ideas and aus i am chewing on the bars of my cage and foaming at the mouth and screeching incoherent and rolling around on the floor and- ough... anyway

i do have a very self indulgent question, particularly about Monster AU Ghost and Price, but also extending towards the rest of 141 with their involvement

at one point you mentioned that wraiths were rare, and ghost would likely feel pity towards another one

what would happen if they did come across another wraith? especially someone fairly fresh, maybe even young, younger than any of them. is there anything anyone could do to help them? would they help? price seems to know how to handle ghost well enough, and seems like hes been around since ghost's transformation, but how would ghost himself handle seeing someone else go through something like what he did? if he had to, what advice would he give them that he never got?

just been rotting in my brain 😭 ily gira and i hope youre taking care of yourself, thank you so much for the work you put in and share with us 🥺💕

this!! is!! such a good question, anon!!!! I think there's a lot of sides to that kind of situation, especially if it’s a younger person since I hc Ghost as having a massive soft spot for kids.

lots of writing under the cut!!! my braincells were FEASTING.

I think if it was just Ghost and the newly-born wraith, he'd try to mercy-kill it. The circumstances that lead to the creation of a wraith are truly harrowing, and while Simon understands the desire for revenge that burns at the core of every freshly made wraith, he also believes their plight is a kind of torture. In his mind, it would be kind to put one out of their misery. He wouldn't take any pleasure in it - I think overall, it would be a miserable affair for all parties involved.

If Price or any of the others were around, I think they’d try to convince him to take them under his wing so to speak. But while Ghost currently operates decently with his support system, he’s extremely lucky and should be considered the exception to the trend. Price was instrumental in his recovery - years of working under him solidified Price in his subconscious as an authority figure he could trust. When Ghost lost control, he could still rely on instinct - even with his mind fracturing, Price never changed. But not everyone has this kind of person immediately available to them, and it was crucial that Price got to him as soon as he did. What Ghost is now is not what a wraith commonly looks like. Price dragged him back from a brink.

New wraiths are sort of like rabid dogs, with no sense of self preservation. They’d approach every confrontation with the kind of frenzy you’d see in someone fighting for their life. They’d also be basically impossible to immobilize - you’ve seen how Simon goes wispy at times, imagine trying to handcuff a cloud of smoke. If it came down to a situation where any of the 141 were in danger, Ghost wouldn’t hold back. He’d put the other wraith down.

But if Ghost met another wraith who’d survived that first explosion of fury and managed to calm down, AND the 141 were with him, I think he’d try to help. They bring out the best in him.

[jvnart]

I love your kakagai art and the tattoos you've shared are super cool!

Tysm thats very nice of you to say! I'm so glad you like my scribbles! Have some more

It's grandpa hours

[genericpuff]

Now that I think about it, since Persephone was the Barley Mother mascot, shouldn't she have some money? Wouldn't she have gotten royalties from her likeness being used?

so at best this is sort of explained away in S1 when Persephone has her interview with Hades and he asks this exact question, why does she need a job if she's an heiress? And her response is basically that she doesn't want to be reliant on her mother's money, that she and her mother both want her to pursue her own path in life... and also she's an immortal from the Mortal Realm so being an heiress makes no sense because Demeter will logically never have to pass down the role in death which is usually how it works.

And honestly, that on its own would have been fine and makes perfect sense for the context of the comic at the time, but then that context changed, and now we have:

1.) Rachel later making Demeter out to be a villain for being a "helicopter parent" and "controlling her daughter", when in reality she was literally supportive of Persephone wanting to go to school from the get-go, she just wasn't certain her daughter should outright move to Olympus, she wanted her to commute, that was it (and was she really wrong to worry about her daughter's safety in Olympus when within her literal first day of living there she was intoxicated by Eros and dumped in Hades' car with the intention of embarrassing her, and then literally the next night was assaulted by Apollo?? Like I don't think Demeter would be all "I told you so" but maybe... maybe there was a reason she was worried and wanted her daughter to commute 💀😭) and;

2.) Persephone going from trying to be independent so she's not reliant on her mother's money... to being completely co-dependent on Hades and his money. How feminist lmao

That said, yes, technically Persephone does have money, and I'd like to think that if she did get royalties, it would be in an account for her and wouldn't just be taken by her mom (though apparently neither of them use banks so ??? where is Demeter keeping all this money LOL) and at the VERY least she's due to inherit what's presumably a massive fortune and company for herself if her mother ever steps down. So the comic does play a very frustrating tug-of-war between Persephone being the "comes from nothing" valley girl who marries into wealth... and a trust fund baby who was always wealthy and became wealthier after marrying into more wealth.

[rexscanonwife]

Thank you sweet anon for giving me the idea to draw this in response to that shitty anon! 😊💖🫶💖 honestly it can be applied to any minor inconvenience in my life as well cause Beej loves me enough to offer every time! (Plus Beej dressed as Sportacus cause one of my favorite things to imagine him reacting to my current f/os or interests in my real life lol)

Taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @miutonium @cherry-bomb-ships @rosieaurora @rejaytionships @sunflawyer @in-true-blue-love @tropicalgothships @little-miss-selfships @hotrodharts @cupiidzbow @frozenhi-chews

[moeblob]

What's an otome?

You read a picture book to romance fictional characters, anon.

(for reference: on page 2 the second panel characters are from Steam Prison. Vita touch mechanic mention is Bad Apple Wars and the sexism call outs is in Sweet Fuse.)

I struggle personally with the self-insert intended otome because I look at characters and go "that's my son now" and I can't romance my son! That's why I prefer games with a designated design and some bare-bones personality protags. THEY can romance my son.

[statementlou]

Tbh i am not surprised that a person who openly talked about having drinking problems since 1d days, because of how crazy 1d worked has been agressive. What surprises me is people being surprised (they never seriously saw drunk person?). But i am also confused about this whole book. Apparently Maya said that that book is not fully bout Liam but compilation about her exes and some of the worst parts are not about him. But recently she said that the book is “ofc about him” so what is true then? Or did she meant it that ofc some parts are about him or that whole book is about him?

Sorry, just confused

I also am not surprised- we've learned so much more about the real stories of things and about the guys' actual lives over the last years, and the story that has unfolded around Liam has been totally consistent throughout if you've been following it, and so the information Maya is telling us is shocking and upsetting but not difficult to believe. I got an anon yesterday saying they were worried about getting similar revelations about the other boys, like "if Liam could be doing this we just don't know, any of them could", and while in a way that's always true I guess, anyone could be doing anything in private like... that doesn't really concern me. Because none of these Liam revelations are coming out of nowhere, there have been many MANY steps along the way leading us here if you've been watching, and he has talked openly about both his mental health struggles and his addiction issues. So to answer that anon... to find out something similar about Louis would in contrast contradict everything we know about him and no I'm not worried about it. Is he probably very irritating, absolutely, but an abuser or a loose cannon, well that news would shock me. But anyway as for the book I don't find it strange that she was nervous when it came out and treading lightly and later decided, fuck it. In the absolutely on point tiktok she dropped today (YES👏GIRL👏FUCKING TELL THEM👏) she even mentions attempts to keep her from publishing the book, presumably by Liam's team, that I am riveted by and cannot WAIT to hear more details about actually- like I said I don't find it at all strange that she was nervous and downplayed it a bit then. But if she says now that it's just about Liam, well, I would say it's been clear from the beginning that the book is their story. Maya herself brought up the parallel of songs being written about stuff and I think it's the same thing; it's true (she was in an abusive relationship that involved certain kinds of events) but maybe not 100% literal (I'm sure details were changed to make the story work, it's not like a word for word timeline of their interactions or whatever).

[m1d-45]

Alright let me try this again.

What if Reader vented to Birb Xiao, not knowing that it was actually him?

They talk about their fears and frustrations, letting out all the words they've wanted to tell a person, but they have to settle for their pretty bird because no one will listen.

So Xiao is just sitting there, resting in the True Creator's hands, listening as he gets a glimpse of how they truly feel.

They say the milileth is like a raging stampede with their spears and swords. They say how the Qixing all seem so cold and unfeeling. They talk about how Zhongli genuinely terrifies them, because he acted so kind to others but was borderline cruel when hunting them.

They talk about Xiao, too, but they don't seem to have many complaints. They haven't seen him in a while, and the last time they crossed paths with him, he just... let them run. The adeptus had looked angry, but also a bit startled (and perhaps, a bit guilty?) at the sight of them. They even once overheard him leading milileth soldiers astray ("by mistake" says the creator, but Xiao knows the truth) by saying the creator had left a while ago, when really, they were still very nearby. While they say they are still a bit scared of him, they don't fear him as much as they fear the others.

All the while, Xiao sits, still as a stone. He takes in every word, every shaky breath and darting glance. He nuzzles into their hand, hoping to offer even the slightest bit of comfort.

He hopes that they continue to be unafraid of him in the future.

-Sibling Anon

he who is without sin

a/n: decided to make this one a full fic for no reason in particular (i don’t have an actual post shhhh)

word count: 1.1k

-> warnings: imposter sagau things, minor blood mention, spoilers for xiao lore, some spoilers for liyue (like names and titles of people/places)

-> gn!reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist > (has context for bird!xiao if you’re lost)

from the moment that xiao was saved, when his new name was bestowed upon him and he signed his contract with morax, xiao had made a promise. another contract, one without physical ink and paper, one bound to his soul.

one to you, his creator.

a pledge to stand by your side, a clause written in by the god that forged his original contract, releasing him from his duties to liyue to serve the one that had granted him life. a permanent extra sweep to his duties, always on the lookout for the highest god above all.

however, he was not the first to find… ‘you.’

‘you’ had landed in sumeru, nested in the large tree surrounding the akademiya. ‘you’ had climbed down, introduced ‘yourself’ to the sages with a smile. everybody was quick to give ‘you’ the glory rightly the creator’s, ushering ‘you’ atop a throne of silver and gold, offerings laid at ‘your’ feet with all the haste of those deprived of the divine.

xiao may have hung back at the beginning, unwilling to allow his karma to infect ‘your’ other worshippers, but he still did his duty. he still kept ‘your’ path clear of enemies, and was the first to pick up his blade when word broke of your imposter.

and yet, when he laid eyes upon the one he was supposed to hate, he was the first to repent.

xiao took a shaking breath, crossing his arms around himself. “morax?”

the elder god turned, amber eyes soft. “what is it, xiao?”

xiao marched through dihua marsh, polearm gripped tightly in his hand. a large hilichurl camp had been reported, which while not an issue normally, was the third in the last four days.

irritation was openly displayed on his face, the anemo around him simmering with his anger. why did the abyss have to act up now, when they were on a hunt? surely even they, as infected and riddled with darkness as they were, worshipped a god? or was that the source of their evil?

he kept marching north, only turning his head at the sound of a soft gasp.

“how will i know when the creator arrives?”

morax smiled, not upset like xiao had anticipated. “don’t worry about such things. when the time comes-“

you stood on the path branching west, eyes wide. you looked nearly exactly like the ’you’ on the throne, the same cool eyes that called for your death now wide and staring at him in fear.

“-you will know.”

you turned on your heel, your armful of sunsettias tumbling to the floor, but… xiao did not chase you.

instead he brought a hand to chest, under his necklace. he pressed, feeling the still-regular beat of his heart.

he pressed, searching for the place where his karma used to be.

from the moment that xiao realized the truth, when his new duty was bestowed upon him, he had made a promise. another contract, one without physical ink and paper, one bound to his soul.

one to you, his creator.

he flew down from the sky, landing in your outstretched hand. he chirped a greeting, body relaxing under your gentle touch.

“hello there, friend,” you cooed, sitting straighter under the tree. your tree, the one you kept coming back to, the one he always directed other adepti away from because it was for you, not them. not him.

you fed him as usual, but stayed strangely silent. no stories of the kindness mitachurls showed you, no update on how close or far the people searching for you had gotten, none of the usual things he looked forward to. you just… sat. watching him in your hand, an emotion he didn’t know the name of drawing your brows close.

maybe you just didn’t want to talk today? but if something was troubling you, he wanted you to share, to allow him some of the weight off your shoulders. then again, he was just a bird to you…

“do you know ganyu, pretty bird?”

xiao froze, thankful he was facing your palm so you couldn’t see his eyes widening.

“i thought i did.”

he looked up, carefully, daring to meet your eyes. this time, he could pin down what you were feeling: betrayal.

his finch heart burned.

your thumb pet over his wings, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. not now.

“i thought she was kind.”

she was, he knew firsthand. how she worried over the tianquan, fretted over her skills both with a bow and with a pen, how her and the yuheng kept each other afloat in the sea of endless work assigned to the jade chamber.

you smiled. it was bitter. “i guess i should have known better regarding the adepti.”

xiao’s heartbeat raced in his ears, something hot burning a hole in his chest. he was an adeptus, he wanted to say, he could be trusted.

but you didn’t know him as an adeptus. you knew him as your little songbird, your friend, the one you continued to risk your life for, even if you didn’t know it.

he chirped once, somber. he wanted to apologize, to take up his blade against his own king on your behalf, to walk up to the fraud’s throne and watch them bleed red.

but you didn’t need that. so he sat in your hand, leaning into your fingers, and let you speak.

as it turned out, today had been a busy day for you. you had wandered into the path of a millelith patrol, which had happened before, but not with keqing at the head of it. not when she had darted forward in a flash of lighting, electro arcing along her sword. not when she’d pulled out and blew a special whistle even as you ran, one that you couldn’t hear but could feel under your skin, taunting you as you tried to navigate the maze of bishui plain.

when you told him of ganyu’s frostflake arrows, he wanted to cry. when you described the anger in zhongli’s eyes, he started to weep.

you didn’t deserve this pain. you didn’t deserve having to outrun planet befall, you didn’t deserve to fear your life being stolen by those who should protect you at all costs- he should have been there. he was south, too far south to hear the whistle, but he should have been called.

he should have protected you.

under the shifting leaves of a sandbearer tree, your songbird cried. and you, none the wiser, continued to spell out the cause of his torment.

.

[wildemaven]

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/wildemaven/747297706713726976

Is this a WIP? Because I’m frothing at the mouth from the idea

Retired Night School Teacher!Javier Peña

Is not a WIP. Just a random plot bunny that hit me over the weekend and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Imagining waiting for your class to settle in, turning to see his door across the hall is open too while he waits for his class. He catches you staring, giving you a lopsided grin and wave before closing his door.

It becomes a sort of routine between both of you every evening. Shared glances as your students file into your classrooms to find their seats. Silent hellos mirrored from neighboring doorways.

The routine broken when a knock on your door alerts of you a visitor, not expecting anyone or students for another hour. The man from across the hall standing at your door, hands holding up some takeout, offering you company and a warm meal while you both wait.

Javier Peña, a retired DEA agent, starts showing up early more regularly, your classroom becoming a safe space for you both. Gradually exchanging formal school oriented discussions for casual conversations about yourselves and everything in between.

He finds he sleeps better when he goes home at night. Rampant thoughts no longer ruminating for well into the early morning. He feels lighter, more relaxed.

You find notes in your book bag. Tucked in the small front pocket, between pages of your latest book, taped to a small pastry bag on your desk. Each message short in its entirety and anonymous in its delivery, but the warm brown eyes you find already on you when you’ve finished reading each of them give away their origin.

At some point there’s a shift in your lives. Emboldened by admiration and desire to explore what life could be like together. Shared car rides to and from school. Making dinner and dancing in the middle of the kitchen as the record player spins on and the moonlight beams through the small window above the sink.

You find his existence leaves you breathless, but his love keeps you alive.

[shalomniscient]

hello! can i request some ruan mei filth with sub reader 🤭🤭

ask and ye shall recieve 🫡🫡 sorry this took a while, i'm personally used to imagining ruan mei as a power bottom, so writing her as a dom took a little longer to cook LOL

good god, let me give you my life || ruan mei x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. vibrators, fingering, praise, mild bondage

notes. sev try not to name fics after take me to church lyrics challenge (impossible) also sorry again anon this turned more introspective than my filth normally gets.....................

On a lonely planet at the edge of the universe, Ruan Mei gazes down on you like a goddess. Your hands are bound above your head, clasped together as if in prayer as pleasure creeps like vines up and down your body. This bed is the altar, you the sacrifice. You wouldn't have it any other way, especially when Ruan Mei ups the intensity of the vibrator between your legs, causing you to arch your back with a breathless gasp.

"Sweet thing," she murmurs, her voice drifting like leaves in the wind, "look at you."

Her finger trails up and along the left side of your body, from the bone of your hip, higher and higher until she reaches the curve of your breast. Her hand lingers there for a moment, warm against your left rib, before she cups your breast, swiping a thumb over your stiff bud. You whine at her touch, trying to chase the sensation, squirming against your bindings.

"Please," you whisper. "Please, please, I need you—"

Ruan Mei coos gently at your begging, her other hand coming to brush the hair out of your eyes. When you look up at her, desperate, with those lovely, teary, pleading eyes, how could she ever deny you?

You cry out her name as her hand slips lower and she pushes the buzzing toy just a little deeper into your slick cunt. It nudges against that spot inside you, and your thighs snap shut around her hand as explosions burst behind your eyelids, a big bang breathed to life by a loving god. Ruan Mei's gentle praises are echoing, distant as you float on that cosmic high.

When you finally come back down, Ruan Mei has shut off the toy and tenderly withdraws it from your sensitive cunt. It comes away with a wet, slick noise and you shiver at the sensation, your leg kicking out reflexively at the overstimulation. Ruan Mei squeezes your thigh in consolation, then lies down next to you, undoing the bindings on your wrists.

"Are you alright?" she asks softly, and you nod, your tongue feeling too heavy to form words. Instead you nuzzle close to her, your arms winding around her waist as your breath begins to even out again.

It’s moments like these, the quiet afterglow, that Ruan Mei wonders why you’re here—with her, at the edge of the universe. It is not an insecurity; no, Ruan Mei does not doubt that you love her. She does not need to test for that. She knows it, innately, intrinsically. But it is a sort of… morbid curiousity, in a sense.

One day, she will leave you—become something beyond comprehension, beyond your reach. Possibly, she’d forget you entirely. There’s always been a countdown on this love, and you know it.

So, why? Why stay, when it would be better, easier, safer, to leave?

It’s your voice that draws her out of her swirling thoughts. Your cup her cheek, affection bleeding through the smile you offer her.

“I can hear you thinking,” you murmur. “What’s on your mind?”

She contemplates deflecting the question. But Ruan Mei is a scientist above all else, and she cannot bear unanswered questions. Uncertainties. So she takes a deep breath, and asks, “why do you stay?”

You consider her for a moment, then tilt your head curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you stay?” Ruan Mei repeats. “You know what I desire to achieve. Once those desires reach fruition… there will be nothing left of us. Of this.”

“Won’t there?” you counter after a beat of silence, seeming almost amused. “All Aeons have their followers.”

“You would walk upon my Path?”

You laugh at that. “Well, I love you. So haven’t I already?”

Ruan Mei falls silent. In the end, what’s the difference between love and faith? How might the reception of devotion differ between a god and a man? Does it? Maybe this is the link between divine and mundane that she’s been searching for. Maybe part of the heavens she’s trying so hard to reach is simply lying next to you, in this bed, in this lab-turned-home at the edge of the universe.

For now, she files these thoughts away, and kisses you again. Her lips taste like plum pastries, sweet and inviting. She kisses you slowly, mapping the shape of your lips, comitting every dip and countour to her memory. She wants to weave you within her, embroider the image of you into the tapestry of her existence so that she won’t forget a single thing.

(A foolish notion. You already are.)

You moan into her mouth and she swallows it greedily, like a fledgling god hungry for faith. Her hand travels down your body again until her fingers find your pussy, still slick with your own cum. You whine as she drags her finger through your soaked folds, her thumb rubbing on your clit.

“A-Ruan,” you breathe out, and Ruan Mei trembles. You say her name like a prayer, like she’s already divine. Distantly she thinks, as she sinks two fingers into your tight, welcoming heat, that it’s the epithet she cherishes most, because it’s the one that names your love. You grip her shoulder and cry out as she works her fingers in and out of your cunt, oozing wetness like ambrosia. Your back arches as she curls her fingers just right against that spongy spot. She kisses your neck as she feels your muscles tense around her fingers.

“Let go for me,” she whispers against your skin like a commandmenf. “Let go, sweet thing.”

You cum with a wordless scream, your nails dragging down her smooth back. She slows the movements of her fingers as she helps you ride out the orgasm, slower and slower until she finally withdraws. Your eyes are shut and your breathing laboured from your second orgasm of the night, but you have never looked more beautiful to Ruan Mei.

“I love you,” she says quietly, pressing her forehead against yours. You offer her a smile like a sacrament, and for a moment she’s terrified that you’d ask her to stay—terrified that she’ll say yes. But you don’t, and instead your return those words to her, pure like revelation.

You will be the only thing she’ll regret leaving behind. But for now, while she has you here in her arms, she’ll cherish you more than anything else.