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kyseya · 5 months ago

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You reap what you sow

Yandere farm brothers x f.reader

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Just your typical luck, your car had suddenly broken down in the middle of nowhere. What will you do now? You can’t stay there, there’s no food or water available. Luckily, you hadn’t run out of recourses just yet but it was very close to being gone.

You stepped out of the car and went around it, staring it down with waves of irritation rolling off you. You tried coming up with a plan. The next stop was miles away and it was nothing but a daydream that you’d be able to make it there on foot.

Right as you were about to give up and let the animals take you, the sound of wheels on gravel caught your attention. Turning around, you saw another car speeding towards you. Yes! You were saved! You waved at the person in the car and luckily enough it stopped. ‘I’m gonna pray it’s not Michael Meyers lost cousin or something.’

The door to the passenger side opened and you spotted a man sitting behind the wheel. He was young, around your age, probably a little older perhaps. He had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. You instantly noticed a scar below his left eye as you glanced at his face. You had to admit, he was very handsome; in a rugged type of way. You couldn’t help but eye how his plain shirt hugged all the muscles on his body. You mentally slapped yourself, ‘Geez (Y/n), you’re here to ask for help not ogle him like the last piece of cake at the party!’

“Your car broke down?” He asked, looking at the worthless piece of junk that had decided to betray you just minutes ago.

“Yeah, it did.” You scratched the back of your head in slight embarrassment. “I couldn’t trouble you for a ride, could I?” He was quiet for a moment, in which you hastily added, “Not for long! Just so I can get proper help from a mechanic. I won’t be a bother I promise.”

The man nodded. “Alright then, hop in.”

Your eyes lit up at his response. You gladly took a seat beside him and thanked him again for his help. “Thank you so much. You’re literally saving my life.”

He nodded once more. Guess he wasn’t much of a talker. Well not that it mattered much. You’d only stick around until you got to a town and found someone who could fix your vehicle. You didn’t have to be all buddy-buddy with each other. You only had to be happy he didn’t seem to want to kill you and hang your organs like Christmas ornaments. The chance of you meeting again was down to basically zero.

Or that’s what you thought, but life has a funny way of messing with you. It must have a grudge against you or else you wouldn’t be seated in the same position you were previously, only it being about 3 hours later. The drive to the nearest town was long(you definitely wouldn’t have made it by walking) and when you got there, you found out the one mechanic they had was out of town.

You thought you were going to have to spend the night in a bush, but you were pleasantly surprised to have your muscular helper offer a nights stay at his farm. You were grateful(once more) and also confused. Why was he being so nice to you when he didn’t have any reason to? It didn’t make sense. The two of you had just met, plus that you’ve only spoken a number of times and none of the conversations were noteworthy.

It was after you accepted you got to know his name, Weston. It fit him quite well, you thought. He told you there was a spare room you could use. It would be further away from his, to offer you some sort of privacy. He also mentioned there was one other person living on the farm, his younger brother. If he annoyed you, you could just tell him off, Weston said to you.

Your butt was sore from all the sitting, both in your own car but also from this little trip. The sky darkened and the sun had nearly completely disappeared when you finally arrived at the farm. It looked like you imagined. There was a large house which you assumed was the main house. Behind it was a big, red barn. You thought you could hear the faint sounds of animals.

Climbing out of the car, you glanced expectantly at your host, waiting for his initiative. You didn’t want to be rude and march right up to the house. As you were waiting, another figure came into view. He was much like his older brother, with brown hair and eyes to match. He was smiling at the both of you, although you caught a slight suspicion towards you.

“Who’s the new kid?” He asked his sibling, who gave him a rundown of what’s happened. You were a bit annoyed at how he called you ‘kid’, you were very much a grown person. And he’s one to talk, you were sure he was younger than you, even through all that brawn. He wasn’t as tall as Weston but he was no joke either. The younger brother looked at you with sympathy, “Really? Well that’s unfortunate. What’re you gonna do now that the mechanic’s gone- since you need him I’m guessing you don’t exactly know how to fix cars.”

You sighed, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll come up with something tomorrow. I’m too tired from all the driving and thinking.”

“Alright, I get it. I’m Lucas by the way.”

You shook his hand. “(Y/n), and thank you for having me. You’re really saving me here.”

“Haha, well Weston likes to pretend he’s heartless, but he’s really just a giant teddy bear.” Lucas said and smirked as he received a glare from the ‘teddy bear’.

“Come in (Y/n), I’ll show you your room.” Weston led you into the house.

Right as you stepped over the threshold, you felt a slight chill. Something felt wrong. You turned around to see Lucas’ beaming face. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Everything good?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. You’d gotten the impression that he’s a chill guy, but now you started wondering if you’d made the wrong choice.

“N-no, everything’s great!”

There was no turning back now, you thought as you descended deeper into the house.

It was unfortunate that every time you followed one of the brothers into town again, for supplies and other things, the mechanic was never there. Sadly it seemed like his vacation wasn’t over yet which meant no way home for you. However, you didn’t have it so bad. The brothers had been kind enough to let you keep staying with them at their farm.

Honestly it was pretty good there. Sure, it wasn’t what you were used to, but some change of scenery was good for you. Not wanting to appear lazy, you helped them to the best of your ability around the farm. You couldn’t lift heavy things like they could even if you really put your back into it, and you certainly didn’t trust yourself to milk the cows; something you could do was cook! It’d become a routine for them to do their work during the day and you’d make them lunch and then dinner in the evenings. You’d never seen yourself as a homemaker, though this was kind of fun. Maybe it was the heat poking your brain or it was that you genuinely enjoyed their company.

Besides, it was really nice looking out the kitchen window and catching a glimpse of them at work. You weren’t proud, but it did something for you. The way droplets of sweat ran down their backs, not in a gross way though, in an appealing manner. During the instances they took of their shirts, you got a front row seat to see the muscles in action. You now knew Lucas had stone-hard abs and that Weston had a very nice back.

Despite the fun in getting to know both of them individually, there were some things you couldn’t deny making you uncomfortable. For example, there was the curfew. That one had a good explanation; there were wild animals sometimes running around and they didn’t want you to get hurt. That made perfect sense! Though you couldn’t shake off that one time you couldn’t sleep and had gone outside on the porch for some air. You were just relaxing and looking at the bright stars when shouting woke you up more than your insomnia. Lucas had come rushing towards you in panic. He’d frantically asked you what you were doing up. You responded honestly and he slowly calmed down. He said you shouldn’t go out by yourself anymore. If you can’t sleep you can see the stars perfectly from the living room window, or better yet, you can come to one of their rooms instead.

Then there was the room furthest back in the barn. Although it could be excused as well, they told you that’s where they slaughtered the animals. But you could swear you heard something from inside, something that doesn’t sound at all like a cow, a pig or a chicken. Suspicion arose in you, but fear held you in a chokehold and prevented you from investigating. However nice they were to you, there was no way you’d risk pissing them off. Especially since the mechanic still wasn’t back which meant you had no way to escape, if it would be necessary.

Lucas had been right, Weston wasn’t as scary as he seemed in the beginning. Sure, he was a bit rough around the edges but he had sweet moments too. Once during one of your little adventures on the porch, Weston had suddenly appeared by your side, giving you a scare. He apologised and asked why you were out. You were worried he would get angry considering you’d just recently had the ‘no more going out’- conversation with Lucas. To your surprise he chuckled at your nervous demeanor and did not reprimand you. He told you that in his opinion, Lucas was too paranoid for his own good and sometimes didn’t know when to stop. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, though you probably shouldn’t wander off the porch after dark. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Afterwards he declared he’s going to bed before wrapping you in a blanket, you didn’t even notice he had it with him until he turned you into a burrito. He was very sweet in his own way, you realised. From then on you paid more attention to the affection he undoubtedly showed. Sometimes it was hard to see, but it was definitely there.

Lucas on the other hand was more open with his affection; pulling you into hugs, asking about your day, petting your hair. All these thing he did daily. He, too, was incredibly sweet. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend that him and Weston shared DNA. They were so different. The only thing confirming their relation was little things how their eyes lit up the same way or how their smiles were similar(if you were fortunate enough to witness Weston smiling, that is). Lucas also had a protective streak. He constantly worried over your safety and wellbeing. Which was kind of nice, when he wasn’t nagging you about it every five seconds.

You better listen to them. It’s all for your best. Because if you don’t, you might end up walking into the barn, and then you might end up finding the remains of the mechanic you’ve been so desperately looking for. And that wouldn’t be very good now, would it?

#yandere imagines #kyseya oc #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #kyseya’s dungeon #yandere #possesive #yandere farmer #yandere farmers #the Callaghan brothers #Lucas Callaghan oc #Weston Callaghan oc #Yandere farm brothers #yandere x reader x yandere #yandere brothers #Yandere brothers x reader #female reader

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cl-0v3r · 3 months ago

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Mel is alive, but at what cost

Mel was nearly killed TWICE, her mother began being a struggle, she'd been thrown aside and trying her best to stop her, her boyfriend is not doing well, neither is anyone else (can't blame them) and the fact that she hadn't cried or spoke much about this situation to anyone a single time?? She IS upset about every single thing, yet she stays strong and enduring every bit of torture. The most she did was tell Jayce that Ambessa put her palm on the table, and let him know that she is going to push for hextech. That's it, nothing remotely related to her feelings.

The fact that she was constantly looking at Caitlyn, being able to understand her grief and knew she was in pain?? Mel knows this feeling. She'd went through it.

And in the end SHE has to pay the price of her mothers incompetence.

The intro is very much foreshadowing, we know the hands represent black rose/LeBlanc.

This is what happens in act one, she gets kidnapped by them. The lyrics do correspond to the characters as well (not just Mel, everyone.)

"Tell you you're the greatest" plays as a petal of the black rose floats down the screen, I think it adds significance to the power this organization holds, possibly the Medardas greatest foe.

"But once you turn, they hate us" both Ambessa and Mel were present in this line, I think its foreshadowing for when Ambessa switches up for whatever reason and goes against both Piltover AND Zaun. And Mel WILL go through change as well, a change that could hurt her relationship with others, and receive interest from others too.

"They hate us" could be read individually too, I feel like its a sort of "realization" ?? Perhaps Ambessa WASN'T the one that switched up, maybe Piltover switched up on them, and maybe Mel JUST got out of wherever she's taken to, and saw the mess Ambessa had done to her city??

I think this represents ACT TWO.

The hands pull away and it sort of looks like Mel is fighting back, a "get away from me" type of scream. you know what this reminds me of??

Don't mind me just pushing my Jinx/powder-Mel parallel agenda

Here is when i think Mel truly learns about LeBlanc/BR, she curiously and slowly goes to grab the rose, she learns about the history between her Mother and them, Kinos death, and most of all, learns about HERSELF. The lyrics speak otherwise.

"Pray away, I swear

I'll never be a saint, no way"

This feels like a parallel to caitlyn of sorts if that makes sense. Caitlyn had done everything to try and stop the council from attacking the Undercity, she kept her mouth shut when Jayce asked about Jinxs grenade, she was willing to protect Vi and the undercity, but how many times has she been tossed around? She'd been burned, exploded, kidnapped (god knows what happened during that time) and hit in the face by the same person, her MOTHER died because of the same person. She has every right to go insane. And she is hunting ONE person, which is Jinx. Although she is harming the people around her along the way.

What if Mel goes through a similar situation? Her mother pushed for war in her city, she dragged the enemy along with her even if she didn't mean to, she manipulated everyone around her INCLUDING Jayce, she LITERALLY got Mel hurt from the chembarons attack and killed so many people during a MEMORIAL to get her hextech weapons, Elora is most likely DEAD, not to mention whatever happened in the past between them. And the thing is, this will NEVER end throughout the entire season.

And what if she learns what she is? That she's 'blessed' by Kindred? The fact that the wolf is quite literally in her blood?

I feel like the "ill never be a saint, no way" also sort of indicates Mel will realize she'll never be able to push for peace and mercy like she always hoped for no matter what, and she comes to accept that as much as it hurts. But not like how ambessa accepted the wolf, but she sort of realizes she needs to push a little violence, towards nobody but the one and only, Ambessa "fine, if you want me to be like you, I guess I'll be like you towards YOU." Type of acceptance.

I think its also related to Mels new outfit too, she's dressed like her mother, in red and all of that. I will still stand by the idea that she has plans to decieve, but she will do something she doesn't want to do.

Mel was left with no choice, that lyric sounds like realization, acceptance, but also like a plea at the same time, an "I'll never be who I wanted to be" because in the end, she's still a Medarda, she's still her mothers daughter, she still has violence in her veins, she will never not suffer from the weight her name holds, and she will never escape it either, its like a shadow.

The Characters won't be themselves at their core this season. And those vital parts of their characters that represent them are no longer there in the intro, they all have given up what makes them, THEM design wise. (e.g.) Vi without her tattoo, Viktor hiding his identity with the mask. And the thing is, they did that to themselves because they do self-harm, they're changing themselves because THEY want to, they're forcing themselves to do that, they think they're undeserving and they're erasing their past selves.

But Mel? Mel doesn't have her gold accessories, Jewelry, or her Armor, she'd been stripped bare and hidden away because of the brutality of her name. She pays the price her mother brought to HER city. She's forced to change herself against her will, because nobody is giving her a chance to push for her ideals.

This entire theory never ends, and with all of this? I kinda do see Mel actually committing Matricide, it lifts the "Ambessa will die" theory further.

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crrtite · 25 days ago

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Ooooch i need more simon groveling, he deserves that 😈

I looooove humbling him hehe, og post + add on drabble here!

cw: Simon is a tad bit unhealthily obsessed with reader, character growth…?, yearning if I’ve ever seen it, reader standing on business but Simon doesn’t even gaf, he wants that cookie so effing bad.

It's been weeks since he's heard you say more than two sentences to him.

He's always been a man who keeps his composure. It's a big part of the 'Ghost' persona, known for his stoic nature and unreadable demeanor. Nothing can phase a man like Ghost, that's what makes him so dangerous.

Simon, however.

His mind is a mess. His own brain at war with itself. He’s used to actual war, the mental and physical toll it takes. It’s what he’s built himself for.

But you? You’re something he couldn’t have prepared himself for even if he tried.

It’s taken him a hell of a long time to come to terms with the fact that he’s obsessed with taken a liking to you. He’s never had a serious relationship before, off-putting by nature and preferring to spend his time alone.

He’s still been watching you, analyzing every detail about you and every interaction you have as well. He knows he’s obsessing over you, but can’t find it in himself to care. He hasn’t wanted anything this bad in a long time.

The issue, however, is you. You haven’t paid him any mind since the day he walked out mid (one sided on your part) conversation. You’ve got self respect, and he loves admires that about you. But fuck, he misses you so bad. He beat himself up a bit, mentally berating himself for being such a prick to you. He’s come to terms with the fact he fucked up, which took him forever.

His next obstacle is deciding what to do with these intense, all consuming feelings he has toward you.

He decides that he needs you, and will get you to at least acknowledge his loyalty to you, no matter how long it takes. And in his own way, starts to show it. Finds himself wanting to be sweet to you, speak softer and handle you with care. However, he’s quite literally never been gentle with anything in his life, that innocent compassion repressed because all he’s known since childhood was how to conceal.

He starts trying to make your life easier, viewing it as his commitment to being better for you. And this doesn’t go unnoticed, not by you. You’ve always been clever, he thinks. You don’t seem affected by his gestures, usually waving him off with a ‘thank you, L.t’ and that sweet, charming smile that he took for granted. He knows he’s a fool, that he was wrong, and he’s sorry. He’s out of his element, putting himself out on a limb. But he’s willing for you, the object of his desire and the cause of his inner torment.

His ever-burning infatuation doesn’t seem like it will be dwindling any time soon. He’s never been a religious man, but he’s praying that you’ll see him internally begging for you to come back to him.

#mind you he only knows anything about you because he’s been watching like a freak #lowkey I need that though #sigh he’s so weird #isn’t he dreamy #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #—crrtite answers

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yourlocalsmutwriter · 1 month ago

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Okay - I see your Sex accidents and raise you “sex sent me to the ER” featuring formula 1 drivers !

Anon, I love your brain. I had to endure so much of the terrible editing choices of the show for these drables, but worth it.

Nsfw under the cut, namely mentions of : penis and genital injuries, riding, fingering, handjobs, overall accidents during intercourse, I mean it's sex sent me to the er

Charles Leclerc - It was your first time attending the Monza GP and the atmosphere was electric. As a Tifosi, there was a surge of something in the air. And you could see everything unfold from the comfort of Charles' garage. Your boyfriend's performance was crucial, the track being filled with fans, their cheers practically making the ground shake under you. Saturday ended with a P4 in qualifying. Because of your location, there was no way that you could leave the hotel, aside from going to the track. You'd usually stay in Charles' motorhome, yet this time, you were on strict no sex orders from Maranello. You were mortified that all his bosses were that superstitious about his race. Truth was, Charles could pull through and show everyone a phenomenal drive. Now it was up to the engineers and strategist to help him make the right call. Lap 40 rolls around and Oscar's lead gets taken from him as he pits. Now the crowd favourite leads. The camera pans to you, there's a serene shot of you looking like the Maddona. Your eyes are razor sharp on the screen, filled with anxiety? Hope? Love? Pride. No one's sure. But there's so much want in them. The pit wall buzzes around you. Next few laps go in a blur, quite literally. By lap 50, you're counting down along with everyone. The fans, they're cheering for him now. Louder and louder, ear drum splitting. You're not necessarily a pious person, yet you pray. It doesn't take a lip reader to distinguish the pleas that fall from your mouth. 3 laps now. 2. 1. And the chequered flag is being waved. David Croft tells everyone that Charles Leclerc has won the Italian Grand Prix. You scream, along with your beloved, whose shouts of Si reach your ears. Tifosi and Ferrari team surround you from all sides. You let Charles enjoy his moment. Right now, he wasn't yours, he was theirs, king of Monza. Your time would come too. When he winks to you from the top step of the podium, you make a decision. Tonight, he would feel like a winner.

Charles' celebrations end with you, in the penthouse suite you had been upgraded to after his victory. Your boyfriend and you feel like newlyweds. There's even a cheesy Madonna song playing in the background. Like a prayer, well prayers is exactly what you will need after tonight, you think. The two of you are both naked, basically after the first kiss. Truth be told, you were always like hormonal virgins around each other. Insatiable. So you were straddling your winner on the soft plush bed. Reaching in for the box of condoms the hotel somehow snuck in there. Tifosi, you think. They wouldn't want your Charles to suddenly pull a Sebastian Vettel. Ignoring for a moment the weirdness,of it all, you reach for your boyfriend's dick.

You roll the condom on, and straddle Charles.

"You just sit back and relax." You tell him, after all winners get their prizes. You underestimate his size. Usually you love the slow stretch that he gives you, allowing you to get used to his girth. But now it's just too much, too big. You can barely get past the tip. And usually your boyfriend is nothing but patient. In fact, he's no stranger to cockwarming you, taking his pleasure in watching you squirm and beg against him. But tonight he's impatient. Maybe it's the delayed adrenaline from the race. Maybe it's the champagne that was like ambrosia for his throat. But tonight Charles Leclerc wants to be ridden like never before. So he thrusts up, bouncing you a little, bullying his cock into your pussy. And by your pleas for more, he does it again, this time more aggressively. His hips against yours, the way you're squeezing against him, it's too much. He can't bust in just a few minutes though, he is no two pump chump. So he pulls out almost completely and changes his angle. With a pop sound, he's in excruciating pain and his boner is gone. You roll away from him, frantically putting on your clothes as he's saying variants of "it hurts, it's broken and hospital now.".

You sprint to the reception and ask them to call an ambulance. You're not ashamed to use your boyfriend's celebrity status as you ask them to hurry. You don't care that this is straight from a sex sent me to the ER episode. You then take your fucked out and fucked up partner downstairs to wait. You're a wreck, crying, a little bit amused but overall terrified. How does one explain a dick injury? Would that affect his driving? Would Ferrari have to pull out their reserve because Charles wanted to ride you faster. This in combination with your nonexistent Italian was not a good match. The doctors give your boyfriend some anesthesia in the ambulance so he's out cold. You can't really explain to them what happened so you're banished to the waiting room. And there you find 3 out of the 4 guys dressed as Ferrari priests. They explain that the last one got alcohol poisoning and that's why they're here. Seeing you fine and recognizing you as Charles' WAG they immediately put two and two together. All you can say about their hero is "it's fractured, he was in so much pain, I don't know how he is now." They stay with you, offering to help with the language barrier. Somehow the staff agrees and all of you are in the room as your boyfriend's sleeping soundly, a bunch of machines hooked to him. One of the guy's starts talking to the doctor and the other two are praying? For Charles. With no other option, you join them. You know what they say about Italy. The two religions are catholicism and Ferrari.

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Daniel Ricciardo - Danny wasn't the type of person who boasts. Flashing his money around just wasn't his style. But what he loved to do was a good celebration of success. That's why you were in a western themed bar in New York, freezing in a cowgirl outfit in December. His friends were there, encouraging you to take a shot to warm up, sweetheart. And he was the life of the surprise party.

He had enough on his plate planning the pop-up, so someone from the Shopify team organized this. What they failed to consider was just how much of an entertainer your boyfriend is. The bar was open all night, and Daniel, bless his soul, felt bad for the workers. So it was onto the two of you to get the place into a shape close to what you found it before the opening crew was there.

Daniel somehow managed to sniff out the hidden Redbulls, and you got to work. Sticky floors were mopped, a dishwasher was loaded, and overall, it was looking okay. You were by the mechanical bull, scrubbing the contraption down. Allegedly, someone was letting out suspicious noises while riding it last night, and that was a visual you weren't trying to think about. Apparently, you were the only one because the sight of you bent over was affecting your partner.

"Wanna go for a spin on it? Have some fun after I roped you in this whole cleaning thing?" Your partner asks, coming up behind you. You agree, and he's hoisting you up, hands lingering on your thighs just a little longer than necessary. He gets behind you, the bull wobbling a little under the collective weight. Daniel doesn't care. Instead, he's kissing your neck, saying

"Sorry, I got too caught up in this. I know you probably wanted to leave and go to bed. Promise I'll make it up to you. How are you, having a headache?" You're a bit surprised at his sudden question, half expecting for him to make you get off and pop a Tylenol. But even as you say yes, he just replies with

"Luckily for you, I know a great cure." and sneaks a hand towards your leotard, moving it to the side.

"I mean, really darling, this outfit, I don't know how I was behaving all night. When all I wanted was to take you to the bathroom and make you suck me off. Have you sitting on your knees so prettily as people wonder where we disappeared off to." His fingers go from rubbing your clit slowly and teasingly, to picking up speed with every sentence. He doesn't miss how wet you're getting, how you're biting your lip to stifle your moans. He continued.

"Thank God you didn't wanna ride this earlier, because I don't think I could've resisted you. Had to bend you over right between the horns and fuck you right in front of all our friends. Make them see how well you take what I give you, how you'd hump me and beg for more.". Daniel then slips two fingers inside of you, enjoying how you're already riding them. So why not give you both a bit of a faster ride?

His shoe presses the button for the mechanical bull and the machine whirls to life. But as soon as it starts, he feels a zap right where his fingers are, fucking you. You double over in pain as he scrambles to turn the thing off. He succeeds and immediately calls an ambulance, asking for help. He just prays that his boner's gone before the paramedics arrive.

At least that happens, but the people know who he is. Nothing could compare to hearing "I'm a big fan of yours." from a girl as she was between your legs, examining your vagina. Worst of all was your boyfriend signing the bottom of a piece of paper saying "electrical burns to the pelvic region and genital area.". Danny's rings and bracelets were metal, in combination with your wetness, it was a great electrical conductor. That's how you ended up shocked.

"I'm sorry, honey. For the hurt and the embarrassment." He says, guilty that he remained unscathed and you were in pain.

"You're paying the hospital bill, Ricciardo." is all you can say through your painkiller haze.

"Shocker." He says and laughs his trademark laugh as you tell him there's no way in hell he's rubbing the prescribed ointment on you now or ever.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Lewis Hamilton - your relationship with 7 time world champion Lewis Hamilton wasn't exactly something either of you were boasting about. Which led to you two sneaking around like teenagers. Climbing through a ground floor window, however, proves to be a bit more of a handful than expected. Lewis rolled onto your soft carpet with a thud. He was scratched by the bushes outside, deep red hashes lining his tattooed arms. Despite chastising you about not wanting to just lie and go out to a little discreet hotel, he's under you in a minute. You love being on top of him, thighs wrapped around him, in control. You're needy, grinding against him while you're both still clothed. You run your nails against his arms, just like he loves. But you forgot about his injuries. Lewis Hamilton is apparently very sensitive to pain and, despite his own opinion, has the same reflexes he had 10 years ago. He fucking flinches and literally throws you off him. Your body hits the headboard, ironically head first. Your saliva has a metallic taste and you can see fear on Lewis' face. Your front teeth are gone.

"Thuck you, get me to the ER." You say.

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Fratboy! Lando Norris - Sports marketing students like you were passionate about certain things. For most, it was football, basketball, or other endeavors of the sort. For you, it was Formula 1. That's why you were standing in the corner of the sports bar, head to toe in Redbull merch. Even your makeup matched the team colors, with little hearts painted on your cheeks. And next to you was frat rat Lando Norris. Your mortal enemy. An insufferable man whose terrible taste in women was overshadowed by his terrible taste in F1 drivers. He was a McLaren supporter. The Brit constantly liked to brag that he used to kart and was still streaming with Max Fewtrell , who wasn't even the best Max on the grid. Truth was that when you each heard that the other one was a Max fan, you were ecstatic. May have led to a drink makeout session. But as soon as he asked for his jagerbombs to be mixed with Monster, you realized your mistake. So from then on, you loved fighting about whose team was better. The Max squared title war was in full bloom. And apparently, Lando thought that painting himself orange would help his friend.

"Tangerine suits you." You say as the studio's in session. You're not particularly excited about what the commentators have to say, so you try to undermine Lando.

"It's papaya, and you know it." He replies.

"I know a lot of things. Like that after Brazil you can not say anything." You counter, talking about Verstappen’s phenomenal drive in the rain. But Lando wasn't letting up.

"And who won the sprint yesterday?"

"Rightfully, Oscar Piastri." Papaya rules was one of his sore spots. But actual second drivers were yours. So he asks

"And how many times did random cars out qualify Checo? I mean, really, a Sauber?”

Maybe it's the free shots. Maybe it's the bar getting fuller and fuller, forcing you to get physically closer to Lando. Maybe it's the fact that he's wearing a papaya crop top, and you can see that the body paint is indeed on the majority of his body. But as the red flag stops the race, the two of you are in a bathroom, testing the endurance of the sink countertop. Lando's lips are on your neck, and your hands are between his legs. You don't care that he's already stained your shirt, after all, Dutch orange also worked. But there was no way in hell you were letting him near your pussy. Hell no to that UTI, thank you very much. So you're subjected to his dirty talk as you keep stroking him. You slide your thumb over the head and it comes out sticky and orange?

"Lando, what the fuck, did you eat cheetos and jerk off before this or what?". He's freaking out as you show him more of the orange precum and you have to play the Dutch national anthem to get him soft enough to actually go to the campus doctor. You're scared that you're gonna be patient zero of a new STD called the “Norris” until they clear him. Turns out that for him to get into CHI DELTA whatever he was, they had to paddle his bare ass. And drunk college boys were not really known for their accuracy, so he took some hits to the balls too. Which then caused his sperms to mix with the body paint. He'd be clear in a month, but no sex or masturbation before that.

"See you on winter break, Lando. In 4 weeks. Speaking of 4, guess who's getting their 4th.." you can't finish your sentence because he hurls a hospital pillow at your head.

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wonderjanga · 2 months ago

Text

Stuck

Billy has been Captain Marvel since the middle of April. It’s the beginning of July. And that’s not how long Billy’s been Marvel as a whole, no, he’s been a hero for nearly two years. That’s currently how long Billy’s been in his Marvel form.

This all happened because of a, quite frankly stupid mistake. It wasn’t even a magical mistake, just an ignorant and naive one.

Billy: *walking past an alley and hears the sound of someone hurt*

His first mistake was even stopping because of that voice.

Billy: *hesitantly walks into the alley* “Hello? Is someone hurt-”

Thief: *stabs him and pushes him over before realizing he just stabbed a little kid* “Holy shit! A kid!?” *sounds horrified*

The thief then fled the scene, not even bothering to try and actually steal when he realized what he had just done. When Billy finally broke away from the fuzziness of his mind and came to it, he was laying face up on the ground and feeling a sharp pain blossom from his side. His hand moved and he could feel some blood seep past his fingers. Uh oh.

So, on the verge of death and partially delirious from the worsening blood loss, he said his magic word and was lightninged into Captain Marvel. Even as the Captain, he continued laying on the ground. The reason being that he was replaying what happened in his mind and trying to ignore the leftover blood that had been left on the alley floor. It was definitely seeping into his cape, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to get up. Why he was too busy thinking about how absolutely fucked he was over the all the concerned yelling from the DTC.

Marvel: ‘Oh my Gods. I’m going die.’

Mercury: “BILLY, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU EVER GO IN A CREEPY ALLEY???”

Solomon: “He thought someone was in trouble, Mercury. Calm down.” *actually sounds the slightest bit panicked*

Zeus: “Calm down?! Solomon, the boy got STABBED!”

Hercules: “Solomon, what do we do? Is the Batson boy going to die?”

Solomon: “No. Not if he stays in his godly form at least.”

Achilles: “You hear that, Batson? Don’t you dare utter that word until we find a way to fix this!” *if Billy could see him, he would be wagging his finger*

So yeah. Thats why he’s been Marvel for a little over month and a half. See, it turns out that he can’t really do anything. His body was in stasis, completely frozen in time. That meant the wound wouldn’t heal or disappear like he prayed it would. No, it would just be there until he maybe switches back and dies from blood loss, which is something he’d rather not do. You can see his dilemma.

So what did he do to combat the impending feeling of dread that he’ll never get to be Billy again? He threw himself into hero work because to be quite frank, he needed a distraction. And that’s how you could see Captain Marvel in fucking Oregon, then South Dakota, and then Alabama helping whoever. He literally expanded his patrol to cover the entire country aside from cities that were already protected by heroes. After about two of doing this, of course, this caught the attention of others, but the last person he expected was Amanda Waller. She came to him alone after he stopped a car crash in Washington.

Amanda: “Captain Marvel.”

Marvel: *looks over* “Aren’t you Ms. Waller? Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Amanda: “Yes. You’ve been seen going around the entire country. I thought you supers only stuck to your cities.”

Marvel: “I… Well, most of us do. I just have a lot of free time on my hands lately. Do you need me to back off?” *really doesn’t want her to want him to back off because running around the country has actually been a really good distraction*

Amanda: “No. Not for now. Tell me, what do you mean by free time?”

Marvel: “Uh…” *confused as to why she cares* “I guess you could say I switched to heroing full time.”

Amanda: “Interesting.” *stares at him intensely*

Marvel: *starts to get nervous cause her stare reminds him of Batman a little* “Y’know, Miss Waller, Supes tells me your bad news all the time. Something about you hating us?”

Amanda: “He’s right. I don’t respect your kind and the slightest.”

Marvel: “My kind?”

Amanda: “Superheroes. You’re a threat to national security but you can also be useful if you’re on the government’s side.”

Marvel: Is this you proposing that I join up with you guys again?

Amanda: “Unfortunately, yes. Before the 60s, superheroes used to practically work for the government. So, I have a proposal for you.”

She wanted him to do some contractual jobs for the government. Which was no biggie. He remembers doing a few with the other Fawcett heroes and even some with the JSA.

Marvel: ‘Do you think we can trust her, Solomon?’

Solomon: “Just barely. I don’t believe she’ll stab you in the back, not yet anyways. I assume you’ll be working with that so called ‘Suicide Squad’ so she’ll likely want someone to keep them in line. That and aside from the shark man, they probably want another heavy hitter.”

And with that, Marvel shrugged and said “sure, why not?” It was more work for him to busy himself with anyways. Now, he won’t admit it to any of coworkers, but those Suicide Squad guys are actually pretty fun if you ignore that half of them are psychopaths and murderers. Captain Boomerang especially. The man was really funny when he cursed out people. There was also Harley Quinn, or Harley as she asked him to call her, who was also pretty funny too. Also, there was a lot of killing that occurred on these missions. Like, a lot.

Harley: “Geez, Cheese! I didn’t think I’d ever see a super so blood lusted before!”

Marvel: “Ah… my bad. It’s been a long while since I’ve been allowed to do something like this without having to worry about Mr. Batman Sir kicking me out the league for it.”

Captain Boomerang: “Huh…? Mate, are you saying you’ve killed people before?”

Marvel: “Yes?” *honestly surprised they didn’t know* “Back in the olden days when your parents were maybe kids, heroes were allowed to kill. That included me. Though I only stuck to murderers and rapists and all the junk. *wipes a bloody hand on Deadshot’s back*

Deadshot: “Wha- don’t wipe your fucking hand on me!”

Marvel: *stares for like three seconds before wiping his hand on him again*

Deadshot: *takes out his gun as if that’ll do anything* “I just said stop that.”

Though, his contracts for the missions ended after about a month and he said bye to them about a month later.

After his relatively short time with them, he went back to basically patrolling the country again. Which, although it wasn’t mentioned before, made his popularity as a sensational hero increase because this man wasn’t just protecting his city, he was protecting his country.

Now, left to his own devices once again, Billy let his mind wander as he was rescuing people from a burning building in California.

He thought about Fawcett. About his job at Whiz. Gosh, he was probably- no, definitely fired due to the month and a half of absence. (He wasn’t. Mr. Morris and the staff were all worried sick about what happened to him.) There was also Freddy. He’d only see the boy every now and then when he looked down to the crowds in the city. He wondered if he was upset. He’d hoped not. At this moment, Billy really really wished he had told Freddy about him being Captain Marvel. That way he wouldn’t feel so alone.

Oh, but you can’t forget the Justice League. Don’t think any of this behavior has gone unnoticed. They have been thinking about ways to bring this up to Marvel for a while. The team finally hit its breaking point when Batman shared that Marvel had been seen talking with Amanda Waller, and working with the Suicide Squad. How they found out? On one of the missions, the Squad had gotten caught and taken into a secret organization’s base. (They weren’t actually. They were mostly pretending so they could just get inside.) This was an organization Batman had been monitoring for a while. As a result, the man had obviously hacked the system and made sure to get updates on anything new. Imagine his surprise when he sees the pictures of each Squad member, including Marvel, all rocking the organization’s prison uniforms. So yeah, not Billy’s best moment for Bruce to catch him in.

Supes: “I just don’t understand! Why would you work with them?! They’re villains!”

Marvel: “I’m sorry! I just needed something to do. They’re really not that bad once you get to know them.”

Supes: “Not that- NOT THAT BAD?!”

Marvel got yelled at for like 20 minutes and only after making numerous promises about, never working with them again, did they finally let up.

Another month later, and that brings us to the present. It’s still the beginning of July. Billy didn’t know how much longer he could take this. He was growing restless because he might have to be Marvel forever. His villains were growing restless due to the fact that he kept leaving Fawcett and was barely around anymore. And unbeknownst to him, Freddy and Mr. Morris were already restless looking everywhere for him.

Thankfully, the Wizard finally came up with a solution that might actually work. It involved the Rock and a whole bunch of complicated magic. Billy wasn’t willing to explain. Anyways, the first thing Billy did when he finally was allowed to be Billy again, was go find Freddy.

Freddy: *walking down the sidewalk, keeping an ear and an eye out for any news of Billy*

Billy: *looking around for Freddy and spots him from behind* “Freddy…?”

Freddy: *pauses and whips around* “Billy!?”

Billy and Freddy: *stare at each other for a bit*

Billy didn’t even get to register what was going on before Freddy rushed over as fast as he could. The other boy dropped his crutch in favor of crumpling against his friend in a tight hug. They ended up sobbing together on a bench after that.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #freddy freeman

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ettawrites · 3 months ago

Note

Could you make genin Naruto, Sasuke, Gaara, Rock Lee and Neji x reader who is their crush and they end up having to fight reader in the chunin exam?

Yessss, yes I will 😊

Fighting Them During The Chunin Exam

A/N: half of this was written with writers blocks the other half was written when I was high, so don’t judge the quality okay 😊

Naruto

- One by one you both watched as everyone was drawn. When it was just down to four of you, Naruto prayed he would get Kiba

- You both gave a side eye when you were the last opponents

- Oh fucking shit

- He was actually a bit (really) mad, protesting that he could not fight you because you were a friend but when the only response was fight or surrender he bit the inside of his cheek

- “Friend”… yuh uh, he means totally smitten to the point he feels like a dog

- But he couldn’t surrender, not when he was this close to getting his chunin but he didn’t know where you guys would stand after it

- When you reassured him this is just how it was supposed to be and said you’d be honoured to fight him, he only frowned and scratched his head.

There he stood, across from you on this dirty cement floor and he was mesmerized on how you could just smile.

“This gotta be a joke, can you just redraw?” He asked the , displeased evident.

“There’s nobody to draw from, you both are the last opponents,” he irked, finding Naruto’s stupidly uncharming.

“Naruto it’s fine, let’s just do this, I’m hungry,” You slumpt, anxious to get this over with.

- he went easy at the start, only throwing kunais and he played defence

- When he realized you weren’t going easy, he was caught off guard as you punched him right in the face

- He stumbled, looking at you with somehow even more admiration

- Then he got serious and the fight really started

- You lost, but some part of you kind of anticipated it

- You were sprawled out on the floor, head pounding from the attack and you were honestly just so tired from the forest

- When you surrendered he felt relieved, he didn’t know how much longer he could take fighting you

- He ran over to you, he wasn’t happy with the win

- He apologized over and over, helping you up and taking you to the infirmary

- He was so glad you guys were still friends, you meant so much to him

- Totally just friends

- He takes you out for ramen after

- He still is on edge for quite some time, he makes excuses why he can’t train with you and he definitely won’t rough house like you guys use too

——

Sasuke

- king of looking like he doesn’t give a shit

- He does

- He’s literally panicking internally and in private probably bites his nails from anxiety

- He thinks he’s anxious to fight you, that has to be it? Out of everyone you are most worthy to him potential wise

- He’s lying to himself, he doesn’t wanna believe that he’s scared to fight you because you mean a lot to him

- He’ll avoid you for the month of training and when you come to confront him about it he’s eerily upset

“We’re not friends, I am getting my chunen license even if it means hurting you,” he says, stopped inside his door frame as he watches you fold your arms over your chest.

“So that’s it, friendship over because of a silly competition?” You respond, you knew sasuke was aloof and stubborn, but really?

“We never were friends,” he replied, as casual as one could and he hated the way your eyes got glossy. He watched you leave, regretting it but he won’t take it back.

- you were nervous, standing in the podium as the crowd was watching you

- Sasuke wasn’t here yet, which you’d hope he wouldn’t show up at all

- You were a bit annoyed as he spawned in with kakashi, trying to be ‘cool’

- He was surprised when you actually put up a fight, a good one too

- But also kind of proud

- He did not go easy on you, at all and was definitely being yelled at by Naruto on the stands

- he won, by default as you had passed out and could not continue to fight

- He wanted to check on you, instead lurking outside your door and kinda of just shuffling around

- He’ll ask the nurses if you’re okay, but he won’t dare go in already knowing he’s fucked up your guys friendship

——

Gaara

- low key you were shitting your pants cause WHATT???

- You saw what that boy did to Rock Lee, and now you have to fight him?

- He on the other hand doesn’t care, but the more it gets closer to the fight he starts feeling uneasy

- He’s… what they refer to as a monster? So why is he kind of concerned for this nobody wannabe?

- He had sat beside you during the first test, intrigued by you

- Your the first person that has ever smiled at him so.. genuinely

- And now he has to fight you? A big part of him was set on absolutely destroying you to stop this uneasiness in his chest

- I mean, he didn’t even know if he had a gentle bone in his body, all he knows how to do is ruin things

“You…” his cold voice came, you were walking home in the dusk from the ramen shop after hanging out with Naruto.

“Uh.. yeah? Hey?” You responded, confused and a bit anxious as you stuffed your hands in your pockets. He came closer, a blank look on his face.

“Forfeit,”

“Huh?”

“Forfeit the fight, I will kill you,” He explained, blinking so casually as he watched your complexed reaction.

- he, in his own scary way, was trying to warn you that he could not control himself

- He was kind of happy when you got his underlying message.. you really were different

- You forfeited privately, to your sensei who completely understood

- Gaara was grateful when the next night Baki had told him his opponent had changed

——

Rock Lee

- When you were paired with him for the semi finals he had frowned

- He apologized to Neji and his sensei

- Both were very confused

- He had that cute little ‘hmpf’ look on his face with an even cuter pout as he walked down the steps

- When he came face to face to you you saw this look in his eyes

- Both of you didn’t say anything when the ref asked if anyone wanted to forfeit before he called fight

You braced, drawing your Kunai when the fight began. Rock Lee raised his hand, looking like his traditional taijustu pose.

“I cannot fight you (y/n)! Please forgive me I forfeit,” he yelled, clasping his hands together and falling to his knees before you in a bow.

“…wha…?” You deadpanned, uneased by how loud he had just shouted that. He looked up, seriousness written all over him.

- You guys didn’t talk until after everyone had battled, finding him hiding from you behind the tree outside

- He slumped as you yelled at him

- He let you rant before he started his own ramble, explaining how he couldn’t fight you

- He would never lay a hand on you, it was against his ninja way

- His eyes started to water and his top lip twitched, clearly upset

- You rolled your eyes and went to go get ice cream with him

——

Neji

- you guys were paired to fight for the finals

- He was stubborn and if you’re a girl.. low key sexist about it

- He thinks he’s being a gentlemen but absolutely obliterating you with ‘facts’

- King of backhanded compliments

- But what he doesn’t know is you started to train with a really powerful sensei who was travelling through the village and offered to help you

- Throughout the whole month training time he was focusing on his fighting, but you were on the back of his mind

- He knew he wanted to win, but he also knew he didn’t want to hurt you either nor ruin your relationship

- So he spent a lot of late nights trying to figure out ways he could knock you out as quick and painless as possible

- This was all internally and completely private to him, he never expressed any weakness on the outside

- He was pretty confident in himself

- When the fight began and he realized.. you were actually catching him off guard he was perplexed

“I don’t-… how?” He coughed up blood, knees weak as he swayed to try and stay up right. You frowned, he hated that.

“I’m not weak Neji, don’t underestimate your opponent. You don’t know me,” Those words were said in order to hurt him, he had ruined your patience with his opinion of you.

“I.. thought I did,” he pondered, eyes lost.

- you gave the final blow to him and he was carried away to infirmary

- When he awoke he stared up at the ceiling for a long time after, feeling his wounds and thinking he deserved the pain for how much he took your abilities unseriously

- He vowed to never make you feel inferior to him and started to rekindle your friendship in hopes he didn’t ruin his chance

——

#anime and manga #naruto x reader #gaara x reader #naruto #naruto uzumaki #naruto headcanons #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha #sasuke uchiha x reader #kazekage gaara #gaara #rock lee #rock lee x reader #neji x reader #neji hyuga #neji hyuga x reader #genin naruto

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quarterlifekitty · 2 months ago

Note

How the boys convince, coerce and/or deceive reader into slowly (or not so slowly) allowing anal sex--

Uh I mean??? What???? Who said that?????

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND 👀

Warning I went a little crazy on König’s in terms of depth but it’s actually a lot more on the tame side lol @machveil come pick up your man from the sleepover he frew up

cw: lotta dubcon, abuse of dynamic kinda stuff, manipulation

Gaz is catching flies with honey here. He likes to spread you open, take a good look, just tell you about everything he appreciates. Doesn’t matter if it’s the first time or the hundredth time. And eventually, it’s not just about your pussy. It’s about your little starfish. How it looks so cute— he can see it clench a little when he plays with your pussy. You laugh about how much he talks about it, but he’s all “no, I’m serious, love! It’s really pretty, y’know? And it looks so tight—“. He’s killing you with kindness about it.

You and Soap send each other porn clips all the time. Sometimes because they’re funny, or they’re gross, or because they turn you on. It’s like baiting a fishing rod sometimes. See what you’ll lure from each other. And he starts sending more and more video with anal… All quite gentle. Makes sure it’s amateur stuff so it doesn’t seem completely fake and full of pornstar moans. So it looks like a real woman is enjoying herself from it. And it’s always followed by him being like “fuck, would love to open you up like this, bonnie” (he doesn’t text in his accent ok).

Ghost is literally praying for the day when you’re too fucked stupid or anxious to stop him. Occasionally, like a shark biting a surfer, he tests you. Sees how far you’ll let him take it before you tell him to stop. He’ll press his tip to your ass, see how long it takes for you to say no, Simon. He might even act like it was a mistake. As if he couldn’t find his way to your cunt from miles away in the dark with no map. He’s just waiting for you to be either too out of your mind in pleasure to speak out, or too afraid of ruining his fun.

Price is doing the classic frog in boiling water (yes I know that’s a myth). He starts by just pressing his thumb there while he’s fucking you from behind… working you up to taking a finger. Keeps doing it until eventually, you ask him to. It feels wrong when he isn’t doing it. And so then he starts to ease you into two, and so it goes until you barely notice when he’s pulled out his cock and has it positioned right where he wants it.

König is pretty painfully fucking awkward about the affair. Saying he wants to fuck your ass is probably something that’s slipped out once or twice in the throes of passion, but he doesn’t speak of it afterward. One day when he’s deployed, he leaves some gifts in places he knows you’ll find them while he’s gone. He usually does this after he’s been on leave for a while— it softens the heartache of the separation for you, when he leaves these little gestures. And usually there’s small things— a very nice chocolate assortment in your bedside table, a few origami figures in the medicine cabinet, a decorated hair pin with fine engravings clipped onto a kitchen towel. And this time, there’s a box with a range of plugs in the bottom drawer where you keep the bedsheets, which you only change every two weeks. It’s planned so you’ll get the other gifts first, and there’s one more expensive than usual thrown in among them to butter you up. There lube, too. A perfect training set in silver. It’s up to you to choose to use them, but he knows how curious and bored you can get on your own for all that time.

Nikolai is going to convince you that it’s what you need. When you’re right on the precipice of a complete collapse— when he knows he’s fucked and coddled you into subspace. Into being suggestible. It’s when you’re on the verge of crashing from it, of dropping, breathing heavy and tears stinging your eyes that he tells you “I know what would make you calm down, malýshka.” When you’re so sensitive and vulnerable and wanting to drop back into that place where he’s everything and you’re nothing but his clay. So of course you nod— you’d have agreed to anything not to have to face your panic outside of his comforting embrace. If Nikolai says it will help, it will help. You have to believe that.

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thatrabidwolf · 29 days ago

Text

hey so a little while ago I decided this would be a fun thing to make, and now 3 days and many, many hours later, I have it complete, and I would like to share it! So, here is:

Questions to ask yourself when creating / studying / writing about, etc a culture (fantasy or real)

I absolutely love creating my own fantasy worlds, and recently I have been looking at advice on how to do it better, but none of the posts I’ve found are quite thorough enough for me. So, I decided it would be fun to make my own list of what questions you should ask yourself when making a fantasy culture!!

This will certainly not be all-encompassing, and I am by no means an expert on any of this, but I have tried my best with the knowledge I have. Think of this as a jumping off point!

I will always refer to the culture you are making/studying/writing about etc as ‘your culture’. I do not mean the culture you are literally from.

Religion and beliefs

Note- even if your culture has no god or religion, some questions will still apply. Additionally, a culture does not need a religion.

How does your culture believe the world/them/nature/etc has been created? (E.g. the Dreamtime, the days in which God made earth, etc)

Is your cultures religion poly or mono theistic?

What does your culture believe is holy or good, religion wise? How does this affect people who do not fit that standard? How do people try to reach this standard?

How does your culture worship? Do they have rituals or ceremonies? Why do they do this, in their eyes?

How does your culture think of its God(s)? Are they afraid? Reverent? Are they less than (the) God(s), or equal (I have never heard of non-Gods being viewed as better than (the) God(s), but hey, why not?)? Are they perhaps being protected or cared for by their God(s)?

What is your cultures view of death and the dead? What do they believe happens after death? How does their mortality affect this? (I.e. are creatures that live longer less afraid of death and hell?)

Are there any people who can be closer to their God(s), or servants of God(s)? (I.e. priests, monarchs, monks, nuns, etc)

How do religious people view non- religious people, or people who follow other religions? (and vice versa)

Are there multiple religions or belief systems in your world? How do they interact?

Why do people believe what they do? (Have they met the gods? Who made their religion?)

How does religion help or harm the people who follow it (And even the people who don’t believe it)? Are people aware of these issues?

How does religion affect things like art, language, routines, clothing, food, etc? (E.g. hijabs and modest clothing, prayer times that cause people to wake up earlier, cursing.) do religious ‘uniforms’ exist? (E.g. a priests outfit) who wears them?

How does one pray, or service a God?

If someone in your culture wanted something from (the) God(s), what would they do to get it? (I.e. what could they do for the god so their request is answered?)

Farming and Agriculture

Note- most stationary settlements will farm, but not all cultures will be stationary. If your culture is not stationary, this may not apply.

Who farms, and where? (The who is very important. Are they willingly in this field (pun unintended), or have they been forced into it? Are they paid? How much? Are the conditions good?)

Does your culture have aid from animals or machinery when farming? How are they aided?

What do they farm, and how? (I highly recommend researching farming methods, if only because it can be really cool!)

Does your culture farm everything it eats/needs, or do they import and export things? If they import and export, what are their main imports and exports? Who do they trade with?

How important is farming and trading in your culture? How does it’s importance affect those living there?

What foods are not farmed, or not as common? Why?

What ingredients are most common? What are they used in? (Note- the answer to that second question is going to be ‘a lot’. Don’t just make one dish with the most common ingredients. Make a bunch!)

Other materials

Note- if the answer to any of these questions is no, then you must consider what the alternative is. If they don’t have clay, what is their crockery (if they have it) made of? If they don’t have metal, what are their weapons made of? Also, a culture does not, by any means, need all or any of this. This is just an example.

Does your culture have access to sand (and, by extension, glass)? Where is it? How is it transported?

Does your culture have access to stone and metals? And again, who mines for this? How is it transported?

Does your culture have access to clean water? How is it transported?

Does your culture have access to wood and fire? If not, how are their environments heated and/or lit? (Do they burn another substance?)

Does your culture have access to paper and ink? If not, what do they write with? (If they write at all)

Does your culture have access to electricity?

Does your culture have access to clay and porcelain? And do they have glaze or paint for their clay?

Does your culture have access to candles?

Does your culture have access to string, ropes and twine?

Does your culture have access to leather, animal skins and/or furs, horse hair, feathers, scales, ivory, and other such materials? Could they perhaps have similar animal materials from fictional creatures? (E.g. dragon scale suits from the how to train your dragon series)

Does your culture have access to plastic?

Does your culture have access to materials most (if not all) human cultures do not have? How could you play around with this? What could these materials be used for? (E.g. an underwater society could use shark teeth as daggers, a society in space might trap stars in lanterns for lighting, etc. be creative!!!)

Food

Note- I have not included drinks here, but most of these questions will also apply to them.

What proteins/vegetables/fruit/grains/dairy does your culture eat, and how much do they have access to? What portions do they eat? (Note- this is directly affected by the availability of certain foods, not simply personal preference of those living in that area. What is your climate, and what animals and plants live and grow there?)

What flavours are enjoyed by your culture? (Note- salty cuisine may be indicative of having to keep food fresh for a long time, sugar may be inaccessible in certain areas, etc. consider why you have chosen what you have chosen.)

How is food stored? (Important! If they don’t have fridges, how do they keep their milk and eggs from going bad while transporting it? Is all their food fresh? Is it canned or non-perishable? What areas will have lower quality food, and why?)

if food travels a long while, it may be worse quality. Keep in mind where the food is coming from

What foods are easily accessible for all classes? What foods are not?

What foods are eaten by upper classes? What foods are eaten by lower class? How will each class view the foods eaten by the opposite class?

What foods are considered a treat? (Keep in mind; someone (potentially in a lower class) may consider a food that someone else eats often to be a treat.)

How do some cultures view other cultures cuisine?

Is your culture aware they need a balanced diet? Do they have one?

Where is food bought? From whom is it bought? (I.e. are there markets and salespeople? What do markets or shopping districts look like?)

How much do people eat? How many meals do they have? How big are those meals?

What would someone eat as a snack? What would they eat if they just needed a lot of energy and had barely any time/money/resources?

Do restaurants exist? Would the food in them be entirely authentic to your culture, or would they serve other cuisine? What would a restaurant look like? How many are there, and how often do people go to them?

Housing and architecture

What do houses look like? What are they made of? How are they made?

Are there homeless people? How are they treated by society? How are they treated by the government/monarchy/whatever your system of ruling is?

How are areas organised? (E.g. is there separation between more and less expensive neighbourhoods? Where are the shops, and such things?) (note- bad planning=bad quality of life, and more time to plan=better planning. Why is it organised the way it is? Is the planning amazing because one dude got free rein to make a city (like Canberra) or is it horrible because it was rushed?)

What rooms do houses often have? Do they have rooms at all? How many rooms do they have?

What does furniture look like? What is it made of? What types of furniture exist?

How are spaces decorated? Are they decorated at all? How does personal preference affect this? (Does your culture decorate with paintings, mosaics, tapestries, etc? Do they grow plants up the walls to fill empty space?)

If permanent structures are not a thing, what do the people in your culture use as shelter?

How are houses heated and/or cooled?

Plumbing. Does your culture have hot water? Does your culture have clean water? How? Do they use wells, or do they have pipes and aqueducts? Do they have to drink wine/ some other drink because it’s easier? Please don’t just assume they’ll have easy access to water.

PLUMBING. How do bathrooms work? Where does sewage go? (Do they have toilet paper?)

How are areas lit? Without electricity, lighting is a big issue. How much can the people in your culture see when the sun goes down?

If one does not own a home, can they rent one? Do apartment blocks exist? Do hotels and motels exist?

Transportation

Does tourism exist in your culture? How do locals feel about tourists? Why do tourists come?

Do people leave the place they live often? Will they know much (or anything) about other towns, cities, countries, etc?

How fast is each means of transportation? How far will they have to go? (How long will a letter take to send?)

For each means of transportation you must be able to answer: how common is it? How accessible is it? What is the overall view on it? When is it used, and when is it not?

How do vehicles move? (Do they have an engine? Are they pulled by an animal? Do they have oars? Are they steam-powered?)

What does each means of transportation look like? What are they made of? Where are they made?

What is required for the upkeep of each means of transportation?

How does the terrain affect travel?

Are there paths to walk or drive upon? What are they made of? How are they made? Do they require maintenance? Do they get maintenance?

How does the weather affect travel? (Especially water travel)

How is cargo protected from water damage?

Public transport! Do they have it? What is it? Where does it go, and what are its limitations? How many people can it take to a place? If someone never takes public transport anywhere, how will they act if they have to take it somewhere? How would someone who does take it act?

How are letters sent? Why is it done this way? How long does this take?

Weather and climate

What are the seasons? (You can make them up! You can have more than 4! You can be creative! Make a season where meteors are falling all day every day, if you want! Have fun with it!)

What is the weather during each season? (Does it snow? Do leaves fall from trees in autumn?)

Generally, what is the temperature during each season?

How humid is it?

How does the weather affect clothing?

What methods do people in your culture have to manage the weather or protect themselves from it? (E.g. covering oneself in mud to avoid sunburn and mosquitoes, hibernation, etc)

This isn’t all weather, but how often do natural disasters occur? Are there are many active volcanoes? Are tsunamis common? Do flash floods occur a lot?

What is peoples view on the weather in their area? (keep in mind that oftentimes people get very sick of the weather they are used to, and find other weather more interesting.)

Education

Who has access to an education, and who does not?

How much would an education cost?

What is learnt in schools? What does the curriculum focus on, and what does it miss out on? What subjects are there? Can it be harmful at all? (E.g. teach misinformation)

Do University and similar education options exist?

What would a school look like?

How strict are the rules in schools?

Who has access to literature, and is able to learn to read? Who is not?

Are there schools for children with disabilities? Are they good?

If someone cannot have an education, what will they do instead? What work can they do?

Who teaches children? Are they paid? How much?

When do children leave school? (I.e. at what age?)

Does homeschooling or other education options exist?

What emphasis is put on an education? If someone did not go to school, how would they be treated? Alternatively, if someone that people thought should not go to school (e.g. women, in some places and time periods) did, how would they be treated?

Language

Does sign language exist? How many people know it? If those in your culture do not have hands in the same way most humans will have, try to think of other ways they could sign! (I.e. flashes of colour like a chameleon or octopus)(Note; if you intend to have sign mentioned a lot in a story, it might be best to have an idea of what some signs may look like)

Does written language exist? Who learns it? Does illiteracy negatively impact a person?

Does spoken language exist?

Does telepathic communication exist? How does it work? (Keep in mind- thoughts are not always perfect, fully formed sentences. They may not even be words at all! How does this affect telepathic communication?)

Are there any other means of communication? (E.g. text to speech, body language, expressions) what are the limits of these, and how does that affect those that communicate using it?

What is the dominant means of communication? What is the dominant language? Is there a globally used language? What is it? Why is that one the globally used language?

Are there multiple languages? How do they interact? Are they similar?

Are there linguistic differences within a single language (I.e. Auslan having multiple signs for ‘eat’ depending on where you are)? (spoiler alert: there will and probably should be)

How are people with smaller vocabulary/more difficulty talking treated? Why do they have less linguistic ability?

With knowledge of your cultures beliefs and ideas, try to think of the symbolism that your culture might use. (E.g. If someone wrote a poem about how their lover is the dirt, would that mean their lover is unimportant and to be trodden over, or does it mean their lover is the home of growth and life, the thing that supports us all? What do things in your culture symbolise, and why?) Try to think of an object/place/plant/anything culturally important that someone could use to symbolise 1) their lover 2) the family members they love 3) someone they hate 4) a close friend

How is cursing treated? Is it commonplace?

And, just for fun; how would people insult each other? Come up with an insult in your culture! (My fictional world often uses ‘unnatural’ as an insult, as they worship nature)

Class and power

Who is ‘in charge’? (E.g. A monarch, a council of lords, a government, etc)

If the person (or people) in charge leave their position (they are overthrown, their presidency ends, they die, they step down, etc) who takes over? How is a new ruler chosen?

How does the person in power rule? What do they have control over, and what do they not?

What gives power? (Wealth, Magical ability, strength, etc) how would someone gain power? Can they gain power?

How is/are the person/people in power viewed by both lower and upper classes?

Is there a large class divide?

How do the lower classes view the upper classes, and vice versa?

What can someone in power do to lose or gain respect? Do they know this?

What is the currency? (It could be coins and metals, but it does not have to be.) Does everyone use the currency, or just upper class peoples? Is there a currency at all? If someone is not paid with money, how else are they paid? (Land or housing, perhaps?)

How much do upper class people know about lower classes lives, and vice versa? How does this affect relationships between the two? Does the ruler know what lower class lives are like?

Do servants, butlers, etc, exist? Who has them? Are they treated well? Do they live in the house they serve?

How are staff/employees treated? How good is their pay? How much time can they have off work?

What is the cost of living? Can many people afford it?

Law

I’m fairly sure this one is obvious, but: what are the laws?

Are there any things that are illegal that perhaps shouldn’t be? (E.g. being queer being illegal in some areas)

Are there any things that are legal that perhaps shouldn’t be? (E.g. my own fictional world having murder be legal as long as the victim is under 10 years old.)

What is the punishment for breaking the law?

How does age impact punishment?

What is the treatment towards the law and it’s enforcers?

Who enforces the law?

What is the view on vigilantes?

How can the law and its enforcers be unfair? (Is it less harsh on more wealthy people, is it likely to harm minorities, etc)

What is the trial process? Is there one?

Is there a death penalty?

And if there is no finite law: what rules are generally accepted, and what is the punishment for breaking them?

War and combat

are children taught how to fight from a young age? Why?

What weapons and armour are used? What are the restrictions surrounding them? How can they hurt/protect a person? What is the upkeep required for them?

How is a war started? Who calls for a war to happen?

How does war affect the world, and those in the warring countries?

How does war affect the economy and trading?

What combat styles are popular?

What is the view of war from the view of civilians, those fighting, and those in power?

How is the army or those who can fight organised? Do they have sufficient training?

Who fights in a war, and why? Are they or their family compensated? Is it for honour? Who doesn’t fight? Why?

Is your culture particularly prone to war? Why or why not?

How are refugees in or from your culture treated?

Prejudice

which groups are oppressed? What is the reason for it? What do the oppressors say the reason is?

Which groups are oppressors?

Are the oppressed groups in most of our modern cultures treated badly in your culture? (E.g. people of colour, queer people, disabled people, neurodivergent people, people who follow certain religions) are there any other oppressed groups? (E.g. people with magic)

How does prejudice affect oppressed groups? Are they hurt? Killed? What micro-aggressions are present?

How do oppressed groups fight back? Can they fight back?

How do oppressed groups try to blend in/ hide their minority identity? Can they do so?

Art

Who does art? Is it only those with the money to do it, or does everyone have access to it? And even if everyone can do art, who does and doesn’t?

What forms of art exist/are most popular? (Don’t be afraid to make something up! Fantasy types of art would be so cool)

What materials is art done with?

What type of art is most widespread? How does its popularity affect the culture? (E.g. in my fantasy culture, glassblowing and stained glass are very popular art forms, so I am sure to mention it more often than, say, pottery, and to be creative with what is made of glass)

Is art present even in everyday objects like paintings on the bowls you’d eat dinner on or detailed carvings in one’s bed frame, or is it very separate from non-art items? How can it’s prevalence help build the world or descriptions of said world?

Is art used for ceremonies or religious purposes? How?

How does your culture view art? Is it seen as important? Pointless? A fun little meaningless hobby?

What is art used to convey? (Can it protest bad ruling, share one’s life experiences, depict stories, worship (the) God(s)?)

Fashion and beauty

Do sumptuary laws exist? Why? What are they?

How is clothing washed? How often is it washed? Who washes it? Where does it dry?

Who makes clothing?

Are fabrics often dyed or painted? What colours are they dyed or painted in? What patterns are painted? What are they dyed with? (Note: this will often impact cost. If someone does not have much money, they may not have brightly dyed fabrics, depending on the accessibility of dye)

What styles of clothing are popular? What styles are more expensive, and why?

What fabrics are used? (Cotton, linen, wool, silk, velvet, etc) are there other fabrics or clothing materials you can imagine? (E.g. the spider silk clothing from Gregor the Overlander, or the dresses made of salt in ‘The Siren’)

How many items of clothing do people often have?

Do makeup and wigs exist? What are they made from? What styles are popular? Who wears them, and when, or for what? Are they gendered?

Does plastic surgery exist? And if your culture has no plastic, can a similar procedure be done with magic?

What are the beauty standards, and why are those considered beautiful? (E.g. being fat being the beauty standard in the past as it meant one had wealth) Are there prominent figures that affect this? (E.g. celebrities, popular artists work)

How do people treat immodesty and nudity? What parts of the body cannot be shown? Do these rules differ depending on who you are? (E.g. my fantasy world allows those with magic to show more skin, as that way you can see the physical manifestations of their magic easier)

How many layers of clothing are common, and what are those layers and their purposes? (This is affected often by temperature, or a desire for volume in clothing.)

What underwear is worn? (Optional)

What do shoes look like? What types of shoes are there? How many pairs would people own?

Is clothing and beauty gendered? (It doesn’t have to be!)

How does where someone lives affect their clothing? (E.g. a person living on a farm isn’t exactly going to wear ballgowns everywhere.)

What hairstyles are popular? Why? Who are they popular with?

What perfumes/colognes/scents are popular? Why? How are such scents made?

I don’t have another place to put hygiene questions, so they’re going here. How often do people in your culture bathe and brush their teeth? What do they bathe with? (I.e. do they have baths, and warm water to fill them? Or do they have to just towel themselves off every once in a while?) do they have soap? How would someone be treated if they did not bathe, or if they did not smell pleasant?

How is class shown in accessories or clothing?

Sex and Romance

Does marriage, or a similar legal, religious or romantic ceremony exist? What are the traditions surrounding it?

How would someone in your culture court/flirt with another?

What is considered romantic in your culture? (E.g. Is there a certain flower used to convey romantic love? Would a kiss on the cheek be seen as more romantic than a kiss on the lips? Would there be specific romantic pet-names for a partner?) Why is this considered romantic?

What importance or weight is placed upon marriage, romance, sex, having kids, etc, in your culture? Is it entirely unimportant and optional, or is it seen as absolutely vital for everyone? Why is this importance or lack thereof present? How would a greater or lesser importance impact the culture and those in it? (E.g. In my fictional world, romance is seen as entirely optional and even unimportant or unlikely, and so people can be extremely close, and even do traditionally romantic things without others thinking they are anything but friends.)

How are gay, aromantic and/or asexual and polyamorous people treated in your culture? Why?

Is sex taboo in your culture? Is it more taboo for certain people? (E.g. would it be more frowned upon for a woman to speak about sex than a man? Why?)

How is pornography, sex toys, kinks and fetishes, STD’s and STI’s, sexual pleasure/ desire, and sexual discussions treated in your culture? Why are they treated this way?

Leisure

Note- it is easy, when writing fantasy, to forget that people have downtime. But in reality, people do stupid, weird things when they’re bored. People play games and goof around. Don’t forget this, as it really helps flesh out a world!

what sports exist in your culture? What is the ‘culture’ surrounding these sports? Do people get competitive over teams they like? Who plays the sport? Are there professional sports players, and if so, how do they get that status? How do people watch sports, and learn the rules?

If a child is bored with nothing to do, where will they go? Is there a library around? Is there a playground, or a relatively empty street they can kick a ball around? And the same sort of questions for all ages. Where do adults go when they’re bored? (Bars? Restaurants? Friends houses?) what about teenagers? Young adults?

What other games are there? Try to come up with at least three. 1) a game you can play without any materials, and in any place (something like rock-paper-scissors or eye-spy, but ✨fantasy version✨) 2) something you’d need the fantasy equivalent of a pack of cards and a minute or so of rules explaining. (Like Uno or blackjack, or some board games) 3) something more in-depth that takes a few hours or so. (Like DND, magic the gathering, monopoly, perhaps, etc etc)

What other hobbies can people take up? Do the people in your culture know how to sew? Are they super into taxidermy? What are very common hobbies (like watching TV or reading) and what are the less or not-at-all common ones? (Like spending 7 hours writing this godforsaken list because it’s extremely fun) How are these hobbies viewed by people who don’t do it?

And if those in your culture don’t have hours of downtime, think about what parts of their day they might use as rest. Perhaps if a woman is forced to sew and clean all day, she’ll do it with other women so she can gossip and talk to them. No one can work all day every day without any sort of rest or fun.

Performances! Does your culture have operas? Dances that tell stories? Comedic performances? Do the performers travel, or do they stay in one place, like at a theatre? Do these performances cost money? Who will have watched one? Who watches them frequently? Who doesn’t have the time/money for them?

Do drugs and alcohol exist? What is the culture surrounding them? (Do people do them just for fun, in social situations, etc?) are there addicts, and how are they treated? What do drugs and alcohol do to the people in your culture? And if not drugs and alcohol, are there other substances one can use in place of them?

A few questions that fit nowhere else:

Do people have pets? What pets do they have? Do the pets serve a purpose (like wolves and cats to hunt, dogs to pull a sled, goats for milk etc?)? What is the general treatment towards pets?

Who takes care of very young children (below school age)? Is it a parent or an outside carer (Like a daycare)?

Are there other holidays or special days unrelated to religion? Are birthdays celebrated? New years? How are they celebrated?

Feel free to add more!!!

#It’s not huge but I think this is expansive enough to post #writing #Fantasy #fantasy authors #writers of tumblr #writeblr #worldbuilding #worldbuilding tips #writing advice #writing tips #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writers

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solxamber · 5 months ago

Note

I really love your writing. If it is possible could you write about an ignihyde reader that has a crush on Rook, and leaves him flowers, poetry, and stuffed animals. As Rook is an excellent hunter, it shouldn’t take him long to find out who the reader is, but there’s a catch. The readers UM is shape shifting. They can change everything about their appearance. Thus, puzzling Rook to no end. How long till he figure it out, and what does he do when he finally catches the reader?

Rook x Shape-shifter! reader

Ahh it's my first request!! I hope you like this!

Your love life has always been like an unfinished video game: full of potential but perpetually stuck on “pause” because talking to people is hard and you have a knack for turning invisible (literally) whenever you get nervous. But lately, you’ve found yourself in a completely different sort of situation—one that involves Rook Hunt, the most poetic hunter of Night Raven College and the object of your not-so-secret, shape-shifty affections.

And when you say not-so-secret, it means you’ve been leaving a trail of gifts that practically scream, “NOTICE ME, YOU HANDSOME WEIRDO.”

It all started innocently enough. A flower here, a cute stuffed animal there, and, of course, the occasional badly rhymed poem you stayed up way too late crafting. You know, typical middle-of-the-night crush behavior. The thing is, you didn’t sign your name. Nope. You decided to go full stealth mode, and using your Unique Magic to shapeshift every time you left a gift. One day you’re a tall, mysterious student from Pomefiore; the next, a shy sophomore from Savanaclaw. It’s the perfect plan!

Except… this is Rook Hunt we’re talking about. He’s a hunter, a tracker. He could probably find a needle in a haystack with his eyes closed, blindfolded, and reciting French poetry. So it didn’t take long before Rook realized someone was very much into him—and that someone was playing hard to get (catch?).

But here’s the twist. You’ve made yourself the ultimate puzzle. Every time Rook thinks he’s close to figuring you out, you shapeshift into a completely new person. One day he follows the scent of roses, thinking it will lead him to his admirer, only to find an Ignihyde student carrying around a bouquet of tulips. The next, he tracks down a trail of tiny stuffed animals, only to spot you as an unsuspecting Idia lookalike casually sipping tea in the courtyard. (You panicked, okay?)

“Ah, mon amour, you are like the wind—impossible to catch, yet always present,” Rook muses one day as he stands in the middle of the school courtyard, staring wistfully at a lone stuffed squirrel you’d left behind. Meanwhile, you’re hiding behind a hedge, shapeshifted into a first-year Octavinelle student, silently praying he doesn’t sniff you out like some kind of love detective.

But you can’t help yourself. Every time he gets close, your heart pounds, your magic flares up, and—poof!—you’re someone else again. It’s been weeks of this now, and Rook is officially stumped. He knows it’s you, but at the same time, he doesn’t know it’s you. It’s both thrilling and terrifying.

One day, you think you’ve outdone yourself. You leave Rook a stuffed owl—because, you know, symbolism—and a particularly sappy poem about how his eyes are like “two radiant moons lighting the darkness of your soul.” (Cringe-worthy, but heartfelt.) You shapeshift into an Ignihyde student again and casually start making your exit, congratulating yourself on a job well done.

But then, as you’re about to sneak back to your dorm, you hear it: “Ah, I see you at last, my elusive muse.”

Oh no. OH NO.

You freeze, half-transformed between yourself and the random character you picked that morning. Slowly, you turn around, and there he is. Rook. Smiling. Not just any smile, but that knowing smile, the one that says, “I’ve been onto you this whole time.”

You’re caught. And not in the cool, romantic way. More like the “rabbit caught in a snare” kind of way.

“I must say, you’ve been quite the challenge, mon cher,” Rook says, walking toward you with the confidence of someone who’s won every game he’s ever played. “But even the most skilled of hunters can’t resist a mystery. And what a mystery you’ve been!”

You try to play it cool, but your brain is currently doing the equivalent of the Blue Screen of Death. Do you transform again? Disappear? Fake your own death?

Nope. You’re paralyzed.

Rook stops in front of you, tilting his head slightly as if sizing you up. “I’ll admit, it took me longer than expected. Every time I thought I was close, you slipped away… like a wisp of smoke.” He steps closer, and you feel your heart about to explode. “But now that I’ve found you, I must ask—why all the hiding, my chérie?”

He knows. He knows.

With a nervous laugh, you finally drop the act—literally. Your transformation fades, leaving you standing there, fully you, cheeks burning. “Uh… surprise?” you manage weakly.

Rook’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Ah! Magnifique! I knew it! My instincts were correct, but what a splendid revelation!” He takes your hand dramatically, and you swear he’s about to launch into a sonnet. “All this time, it was you—you—my mysterious admirer! The one who leaves me such lovely tokens of affection! And yet, you kept me in the dark, playing this delightful game of cat and mouse…”

You’re still trying to process the fact that Rook actually figured it out, while he’s over here going full monologue.

“I must say,” Rook continues, still holding your hand, “your talents are impressive. To evade me for so long—c’est incroyable! But why, mon cher? Why not reveal yourself sooner?”

“Well, uh…” You scratch the back of your neck, completely flustered. “I thought you’d think it was weird?”

“Weird?” Rook blinks at you, clearly baffled. “Why would I think that? You have done nothing but shower me with affection in the most creative ways! Why, I am honored by your attentions!” His grin widens. “And now that I’ve found you, I can return the favor, oui?”

“Return the—wait, what?” You blink at him, your brain short-circuiting again.

Rook leans in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Did you think the hunter would not also become the prey? My dear, you’ve caught my attention as well… and I must say, I’m quite taken with you.”

Your heart skips approximately fifty beats. “You… what?”

“Ah,” Rook sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You truly are a marvel. But now that I’ve caught you, I won’t let you slip away so easily.”

You’re still standing there, trying to process the fact that Rook Hunt, Rook Hunt, the walking poetry machine, is flirting with you. And not just in a casual way.

Wait why is holding his bow like that? Is he trying to serenade you with just his bow as his accompaniment?

“So,” Rook says, his smile widening, “shall we continue this game of ours? Or perhaps… a new adventure, together?”

You stare at him, your face about to combust from sheer embarrassment and disbelief. “Uh… sure?”

And just like that, Rook laughs, a joyous, carefree sound, and pulls you into a hug. “Magnifique! The hunt is over, but the journey has just begun, my chérie.”

As for you? You’re pretty sure this whole situation is a fever dream.

But hey, at least you finally got your guy. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll survive his endless poetic declarations.

Maybe.

Masterlist

#rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst

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scorpioriesling · 5 months ago

Text

Caught in 4k H.C.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, and Tamlin

Warnings: mdni, 18+, smut, masterbation, mentions of multiple kinks if you squint

Summary: A collection of head cannons where you catch the ACOTAR boys fantasizing / jerking it :) Just for funsies and I hope you like, lol. I also included photos for each! <3

SR’s Note: Honestly I saw this new photo / fan art of Lucien andddd I had to do something with it. The ween was staring at me… I was quite literally caught in 4k. SO, here we are, here’s an idea, I rolled with it. Enjoy, all you freaks (;

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

Would absolutely be jerking off at his desk, in his office. Doors locked, he thinks no one is home.

He would start slow of course, then speed it up, thinking about you — how you looked before you’d left for downtown Velaris this morning, your hair up in that cute ponytail that showed off your pretty face.

Last time he had you at his desk your hair had been in a ponytail. His fist made for a rather sturdy hair tie.

“Ohhh,” he let out a small sigh, thinking of how your body looked as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind, your round little ass reverberating with every snap of his upper thighs against it. He squeezed his cock harder, thinking about the sounds that came with those thrusts-

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his head rolling back as he relaxed back in his chair, pumping his cock faster and faster, the image of your naked body pushing him toward his impending release. The way the desk would creak as his dick reached unimaginable depths inside you, sliding in and out so fucking fast; your body fit perfectly with his.

“Rhys! I’m back!” Your honey-filled, sing-songy voice rang out from the downstairs foyer just before he could release, and he immediately halted his movements. How long had he been doing this? He glanced at the clock — surely you hadn’t been gone that long.

The soft patter of footsteps rang out on the stairs, and he stuffed his still-hard dick back into his formal pants, struggling to tug the zipper up and attempt to conceal his erection. You’d surely notice, and he’d surely be embarrassed.

The door to the office swung open, and sure enough, you stood — bags in hand, ponytail and all. The bright smile on your face faltered when Rhys’ failed attempt at a warm greeting was recognized.

“What’s wrong, sweet heart?” You asked, setting down the paper bags and striding over to his desk. No no no, he thought. You needed to get out of here, at least until he could calm down.

“Nothing, my love.” He smiled, embracing you as you moved to sit on his lap. You shifted slightly, looking at all the papers atop his desk.

“You’ve got a lot of work it seems,” you say. He sighs lightly. “Yes my love,” he responds, kissing your cheek. The feel of you against him stiffens his cock, and he can only pray you don’t notice.

“Mhm,” you hum, shifting on him once more. Rhys’ breath comes out ragged, and you side-eye him with a smirk. “Almost the same amount as when I left earlier,” you point out. A small tinge of pink flushes his cheeks and you chuckle, kissing the tip of his nose before gazing tensely into his eyes.

“What were you doing up here all alone, anyways?” He meets your eye with an equally challenging stare. “Working.” He says coolly. You smile humorlessly, moving to straddle him instead. Instinctively, his hands cup your ass, squeezing hard. He knew what you were doing, but you didn’t care. It worked, and that’s all that mattered.

“I have something… else… you could work on, if you’d like?”

Cassian

He’d trained with you enough by now that he’d gotten used to your… attire. The way your tight leathers clung to your body, every dip and curve of you outlined for everyone to see.

He didn’t care so much now that you’d been together so long, but something about you striding in that morning stirred something in him.

You were laughing in that vivacious way you did, usually with Gwyn and Emerie and Nesta — a lot of times, when he was lucky, with him too.

He smiled at the sound of your voice, floating down the stairwell toward the training ring. His back was to you; but when he turned and caught the sight of you, your legs bare and midriff exposed, his breath faltered a bit.

Sure, he’d seen you completely nude before, but in front of your peers? Your friends? Especially during training… he wasn’t sure how he would handle two hours of this kind of torture. He could already feel the blood rushing to his cock at the sight.

“Y/N this isn’t- You know for training you can’t-“ he fumbled. Gwyn giggled, and you rolled your eyes.

“Cassie, it’s like a hundred degrees in here today. You said we weren’t doing hand to hand anyway; what’s the harm in lighter clothing?” You shrugged. He only stared blankly at you, commanding his eyes not to drift past your collarbone.

His hand jerking his cock later that day was the harm in lighter clothing.

He let out soft breaths, leaned back as he sat on the edge of his bed.

He thought about how that tiny little tank top was stretched thin across your generous chest, how his eyes traced over the outline of your bra when you did your warm ups. Gods… how many times he’d ripped thin little things like those off of you, how many times he’d toyed with you, undoing your lacy bras you’d wear just for him…

He kept pumping, thinking about how your tits bounced when he purposefully assigned the group jumping jacks and high knees exercises, and how painful his cock grew during your session.

He thought back to the times he drilled into you on this very bed, your knuckles white on the headboard as he shoved his cock deep inside of you, your screams of pleasure only encouraging him further.

It was borderline torturous today during cool down yoga, watching you in downward dog, your spine arched, your long legs on display. Under your shorts, he could only imagine the panties you had on — maybe his favorite, the glittery kind he could easily slide down your legs with his teeth.

Usually, this was before he would lick your cunt until you shook beneath him, your slick covering his lips and chin.

Had no one else attended training this morning, he honestly would’ve taken you right there; yanked your mini shorts over that perky little ass and drove himself straight inside of you. “You want to tease me? You know what happens when you play around,” he knows you love it when he spanks you-

“Cassie?”

He stilled, his chest heaving as he opened his eyes. Lo and behold, you were before him again. You hadn’t yet changed out of your training attire, and as your eyes trailed over his form on the bed, taking in what he was doing — you closed the door behind you.

“Baby, I-“ he stammers, and you only smirk at him.

“I suppose the new outfit this morning worked, hm?”

Azriel

It was hard, so painfully hard having a mate as beautiful as Azriel. So hard having a mate so beautiful, but was gone so often on missions that you found yourself at times taking care of your needs on your own.

You couldn’t blame him for it, you were quite lucky. But little did you know, he would need to take care of his own twice as much.

On this occasion, it was a case of… well, miscommunication. He was scheduled to be gone on a mission, and you’d told him you would stay the night with Morrigan instead of being alone in your shared home for the evening.

Of course, that was not what happened.

Azriel finished his mission early. He reported to Rhys, flew back home, and was happy to have a night off with rest and relaxation. He even lit candles in the house, for christ sakes.

He knew you were at Mor’s, and though he missed you so much, he didn’t want to take away from girls night. He’d walked in on one once and… well… let’s just say he’d never do it again.

Azriel was padding around the flat, finishing the last few sips of black coffee from his mug when he passed the sapphire door. His steps faltered, only for a moment, and he tipped his mug back to drain it, still eyeing the opened door.

Curiousity, and years of spy work must have gotten the best of him. He sat his mug on the hallway table, pushing against the usually locked door. This room was off limits to everyone, that was, except you and Azriel.

His breath caught in his throat as he made his way through the room, sitting in the plush chair near the center of it.

“Oh…. my…” he breathed. He leaned forward, his gaze flickering between the various vibrators scattering the ground. He stared, feeling unable to move — that was, other than his dick, which began to twitch beneath his leathers.

He continued to gaze, cataloguing which items weren’t in their holding places. Other than the vibrators, there were clamps missing, and maybe-

His cock fucking throbbed. He sat back in the chair, yanking on the ties and binds to free himself from his pants. Finally, finally getting his dick in his hands, he allowed his mind to wander further.

When were you in here alone? It had to be within the last few days, it didn’t look like this before he left. He slid his scarred fingers over his long shaft, thinking of you in this room, the things you’d done together in here. What you’d likely done alone.

“Mmmm,” he grunted, holding himself tighter. He thought of your tight cunt, how he had to work his thick cock into you every. Single. Time. “Fuck,” he muttered. You always looked so beautiful, a gorgeous, ruined mess for him, all tied up on the bed. Gods, the sounds you’d make, how they’d echo off the walls, through the entire house-

“Fuck baby, so tight for me,” he groaned. He usually wasn’t so vocal, preferring to hear you much more instead, but alone… he wished he could talk your ear off. Tell you to play with yourself, right in front of him so he could watch.

Gods, if he were here, watching you cry out against your vibrator thinking about him… there’s no way he would be able to hold back.

“Good girl, good fucking girl, take it, take all of it-“ he sucks in a breath, his gaze snagging on a pair of lacy underwear discarded by the bed. He quickly snatches them up, remembering how they looked last time you’d had them on.

The soft sound of the front door opening and closing pulls Azriel from his haze, immediately tossing the underwear back under the bed. He shoves his dick inside his leathers, groaning as his pants protest against his size. You weren’t even supposed to be back tonight — maybe the plans with Mor fell through.

Within minutes, he’s closing the door as quietly as he can, sure you won’t suspect a thing. He smiles lightly to himself. Hopefully, if you’re home to stay, you’ll be in the mood to finish what he’d already started.

He’s almost halfway down the hallway, heading for the foyer when a cough sounds from behind him — the other end of the hallway. He turns slowly, and sure enough; his eyes meet yours. Only for a moment though; he can’t help but notice the sheer nightie you’ve managed to slip into, breasts pushed up from your hands clasped behind your back.

“Having fun in there by yourself?” You tease, jerking your chin toward the sapphire door across the hall. Azriel doesn’t move a muscle, his thoughts racing.

“H-how did you know I was in there?” He asks, his tone low. You only giggle, taking a few steps toward him and revealing your hands at once. One held his mug, which he hadn’t noticed wasn��t on the hallway table anymore.

“Seems we’ve both forgotten to put our things away, hmm?” You wink. “I’ve lived with the Spymaster long enough to pick up on a few things, Azzie.”

Lucien

With Lucien, things were always *almost* a little more than “friendly”. Sure, you’d been best friends for centuries now, but over time, you’d both begun to realize there was more to it than just being friends.

“It’s truly not that complicated,” Tamlin explained. “She likes you, you’re clearly in love with her — I don’t see where the problem lies?” But, Lucien still only sighed.

“We’ve been friends so long, I just don’t want anything ruined,” he’d explained. That only made his High Lord friend laugh.

“I think it was ruined, my friend, the moment you let your feelings cloud your judgement. Which was a very, very long time ago.”

Honestly, he wasn’t wrong. In your youth, you and Lucien were simply platonic; you’d grown up together, bonded over the horrors you’d both endured and helped each other through, and found comfort in relying on one another.

But over time, that changed. Suddenly, attending Balls and Galas with Lucien sent flutters through your stomach. Going to dinners with him on quiet evenings warmed your heart, and now when he brought you flowers for your table — it felt new, it felt… more.

“Well, aren’t you the loveliest couple Prythian has to offer!”

This would happen often.

One of you, or both, would hastily explain that you’re just best friends. Well, you used to, anyway. Last time the older woman in the market made a comment as such, Lucien just smiled politely and held your hand tighter, continuing on as though nothing happened.

The moment that had tipped it all though… oh boy. You’d been in the kitchen of the manor, baking apple tartlets as autumn was approaching and they were Lucien’s favorite from back home. He had joined you, wanting to learn from someone with such a talent and, honestly he just wanted to spend time with you.

“Okay, next we need flour… Lucie, that’s you,” you whispered the last part, and Lucien snapped out of his daze. His hand dropped from his chin, propping his head up on the counter as he gazed at you from across it.

“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry,” he stood, searching for and grabbing the bag of flour from behind him. You smiled, taking it from him and measuring out a few cup fulls. He resumed his position, looking to you once more.

You met his gaze, your hand stopping midway between the bowl and bag. “Lucien, I thought you wanted to help me,” you said.

“Right, right, I do,” he moved toward you, pushing up the sleeves of his tan waffle-knit sweater as you dumped in another cup. Your breath caught as his hands appeared on either side of you, the sudden feeling of his toned body pressing against your backside lightly ceasing the air from your lungs. You tried to remind yourself to resume your breathing as normal — the steady rise and fall of your shoulders measured now by his chin resting atop your left one.

“Next… we, have two eggs,” you explained. You take them from the carton, and Lucien chuckles behind you, his body so close you can feel every movement and muscle beneath his clothing.

“Allow me,” he says smoothly, his arms caging you in closer along your sides as his hands rest atop yours. “I think I know how to at least do this part.”

You allow yourself a laugh, but it comes out breathless. He does as such, cracking them into the bowl and setting down the shells.

“Alright, now next is… hey!” You squeal, turning to face him in shock. He laughs, his smile radiant as you look down your nose at the dash of flour smeared on it. You reach for the bag, but you’re too slow — Lucien has both of your wrists held tight in an instant, pinning you to the counter with his hips against yours. Your noses are mere inches apart, and he continues grinning.

“Lucien, this isn’t-“ He doesn’t let you get another word in before he smushes his lips against yours, and you instinctively soften against him. Years, you’d waited years for this — the feel of him against you, his lips touching yours. All of those almosts, all the lingering touches, all of the sleepovers and hugs that went on too long, all those times your hand held his.

Now that he’d had you once, he only wanted more.

Which was why he sat in his favorite spring meadow now, trying to clear his head.

He couldn’t.

He only thought of you.

You, in all your beauty. The way your hair would always fall perfectly around your face. How you felt, your soft lips pressed against his. How your body, he was so careful to protect, felt pressed against him that day. He hated how hard his cock was just thinking of your ass pressed against him.

When he’d caught you off guard and finally kissed you… Gods, you’d look so lovely laid across the counter, wrists held above your head in his grip. He’d worship you and kiss every inch of you if you’d let him. Tartlets be damned; he’s sure you’d taste even better.

He was smiling to himself in the afternoon light when the most beautiful voice made itself heard before him.

“I can only wonder what you’re dreaming about to have such…” You playfully tease, your sentence trailing off. His eyes fly open, and he sits upright, looking at you and trying to find some kind of response.

“No! No, I uh, was just drifting off, just lounging here, against this uh…” he pats the fallen tree trunk behind him.

“…wood?” You finish. He shakes his head slowly, a smile creeping onto his lips. You giggle, dropping to your knees before him and adjusting your skirt around you. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and he blushed.

“Well, tell me what you were thinking, then? Maybe I’ve thought of things similar.”

Eris

It was a beautiful morning — perfect for the horseback ride Eris had planned with you that day. He knew you had a few duties to tend to into the evening, and he wanted to squeeze in a little alone time beforehand if he could. You were more than happy to oblige.

“I’m not sure I’ve seen the leaves this red so soon in the season before,” you pointed out, looking around the autumn grove in wonder. Eris looked too, his focus landing on you once more like it had countless times already that morning. He knew, of course his mate was gorgeous, but… you were truly getting the best of him today.

“Maybe the season is getting longer,” he said absentmindedly, watching how your hips moved forward and back as your horse trotted along. Fuck, if you didn’t have obligations clogging your schedule later today, he’d have you off that horse and sitting on him instead. Gods what he’d give to feel that tight, pulsing cunt throbbing on his awaiting dick-

“Ooh! Eris look! Those are honeycrisp!” You said excitedly. “We have to get some, your mother has been looking everywhere for these.” Eris mentally kicked himself for being such a … guy. He was so happy just to spend time with you right now, and of course his mind was going to sex when his absolute gift of a mate was innocently noticing the apples dangling from the trees, thinking of others while his mind was only thinking of you.

Then again, he only ever seemed to think of you.

“Anything for you, dear.” You flashed him a smile then, and his spirits lifted higher. He led his mare toward the trees, sliding off and tying the reigns as you slowly approached behind him. You were shorter than him, and though you had enough courage for the entire Autumn court, you didn’t mind a gentle helping hand every once in a while. You handed your mate your own reigns, watching as he tied them to a branch as you also made to de-saddle.

His strong hands slid around your waist, firmly placed on either side as he hoisted you from the animal with ease and set you gently on the ground in front of him. You grinned up at him then, your hands still on his shoulders as a sudden rush went through you. You couldn’t help but remember the excitement you’d felt all those years ago when he was but a simple schoolgirl crush to you; that feeling remaining even now that you’re mated to the Autumn heir.

“I love you,” he said then, his one hand cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned into him, his hands roaming over your body as you felt his pants tighten slightly against your stomach. You chuckled, breaking for air before he got too many ideas.

“Apples?” You suggested. He nodded, swallowing thickly, but you could see the lust swelling in his irises. Once all your tasks were done today, you were sure you’d be seeing more of this side of him later tonight. “Apples,” he agreed.

The Lady of Autumn was more than thrilled with the discoveries you and Eris had come back with, her gratitude for the both of you evident before she bid the both of you goodbye. Watching you go, even for a few hours felt like torture for Eris. He shook his head, cursing the dirty thoughts racing through his mind — but they wouldn’t stop.

They surely didn’t stop as he sat before the fireplace at sunset, lazily sipping the last remnants of whisky from his glass as he scanned over the court’s weekly newsletter. The words were a blur; he was just passing the time and waiting for you to come home. Waiting to get his hands on you again.

Gods, your lips had tasted so good this morning, so warm against the cool air of the grove. Fuck, that little waist… when he’d had you the other night, bent over on the bed, fucking himself into you relentlessly, his hands gripping your smooth skin-

He wasn’t sure when he set down his glass, or when his paper hit the floor, but his fingers were now gliding over his cock, throbbing with need. His head rolled back, short breaths coming out between his parted lips.

The way your body moved this morning… he let out a soft groan. He thought of you, sitting on his lap, the fire casting a golden glow around you, bouncing up and down on his length. You didnt need any other fire — you emitted light yourself, everything you did, everywhere you went. You were the sun itself.

“Y/N…” he sucked in a breath, yanking on his cock. He thought about the tiny lingerie you’d wear for him, how he could pull it down over your tits and take one of your nipples between his teeth as you rode him harder…

His groans were cut short as a soft, familiar mouth met his, and he slowed his strokes but smiled into the kiss in realization. You pulled back an inch, a few tendrils of your hair tickling his neck and shoulders as you leaned over the couch above him, taking the scene in fully.

“Did you miss me?”

Tamlin

The sharp knock at the door startled him, his gaze drifting from the reports on his desk to the entrance of his study.

“It’s nearly ten thirty, Sir,” Alis peeked her head in. “I’m going to turn in for the night, unless there was anything else you needed.” Tamlin’s eyes widened in realization, and he looked at the wall clock for confirmation. Sure enough, 10:27 p.m. He sighed heavily.

“No, no, I’m quite alright Alis. Tell me, has Y/N turned in already?” He asked. His heart clenched as he tugged on the bond with no response. He’d told you he would be done with these reports hours ago, but, per usual to no avail. He hated disappointing you.

“I haven’t seen her since nine, Sir.” Alis said. He only nodded, and she closed the door quietly. Tamlin rubbed his eyes, shuffling his files into neat stacks and flicking off his table side lamp before heading toward the master bedroom.

Upon entering, his heart dropped even more. Of course you’d gone to bed, why wait up? He’d done this before. Promised to be done with work only to stay awake for hours into the night, not giving you the attention you’d deserved from him.

You. His mate.

His mate that, upon further inspection, must have believed he would finish on time tonight. You’d fallen asleep in a petal-laden lingerie set, barely leaving anything to the imagination. Tamlin’s lips pressed into a thin line — it was one of his favorites. Now he really felt bad.

Not only did he feel bad… he felt horny.

He stepped as quickly and quietly as he could across the hall toward the master bathroom, closing the door and leaning against the sink.

His chest heaved, and he stared at himself in the mirror, his cock growing harder and harder in his pants. He needed a shower, now.

He flipped the water on, allowing the steam to cloud in the bathroom before he cracked open the door to the hallway, just an inch so some of the hot air could filter out. The moonlight illuminated the space enough through the window — he avoided turning on the lights.

It was only after he’d stripped and gotten into the warm water that he’d started fisting his cock.

Images of you played in his mind, some recent, some from the past. The first time you’d made love in the garden — you had daisy petals all through your hair, your back bridging as it arched in pleasure while he ate you out. Gods, you tasted so sweet — sweeter than any honey Tamlin had ever tasted, in his court or beyond it.

His free hand braced against the cool tile of the shower wall, his other running along his thick length faster.

The images burned into his brain of you laid out on his desk — one he’d been spending so much time at lately with his stupid papers — your mouth open, crying out his name as he worked your clit with his fingers.

Your hands felt so good tangled in his hair… he’d missed that so much, he knew it was his own damn fault for not giving you enough of really anything lately.

“Gods Y/N,” he gritted out, his teeth clenched. The warm water ran over the defined muscles of his back, a reminder, but not quite as exact as the feeling of your fingers on him during those nights of the frenzy. That’s when you’d gotten that adorable, flowery little number anyway that you were wearing now — were you asking to be fucked like that, again?

He groaned at the thought, biting his lip in anticipation. The way you’d looked, so peaceful and delicate, your hair laid prettily on your pillow — but he knew.

Every once in a while, you wanted him crazy. You didn’t want nice, gentle, garden love-making. You wanted mating-bond, frenzy-crazed, sex. The kind that had you once drenching the sheets with your cum, squirting from you as your mate pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. The kind that had you shaking as you sat on his face, his nose nudging your clit as his tongue played in your folds.

“FUCK,” Tamlin swore, pumping his dick so hard, feeling his release building, imagining your tongue on him instead, your awaiting mouth and beautiful, round eyes gazing up at him from the floor…

“Looking for somewhere to, finish?” You asked, stepping lightly into the shower behind him. Tamlin stilled, his face flushing at being caught in the act.

“I… sweetheart I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I-“

“You didn’t,” You interjected, crossing your arms beneath your breasts. Tamlin’s cock jerked, his eyes roaming hungrily over your naked body. The cute outfit was something, yes, but your body, just you — now that was something he’d prefer over anything.

“…but I wish you would have.” You raised an eye brow at him.

His eyes darkened at your words and he chuckled, looking to the floor and shaking his head slowly.

“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to last very long-“

“Try me,” you challenged, stepping forward as his gaze met yours. “We haven’t yet done it in the shower.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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