#writing scenario

[ownlittleuniverse]

scenario #3 - the hero begs the villain for help

warning: intense distress, trauma, depictions of severe anxiety and despair, could be uncomfortable for some readers.

“Please…make it go away,” the hero sobbed, curled up into a pitiful heap at the villain’s feet, “Make it all go away.”

The cracks in their voice tore right through the villain’s black heartstrings.

The villain had never seen them so broken, so raw. It was unsettling, even for someone as accustomed to chaos as they were.

“Hero—

“I just want it to stop!” the hero screamed, their voice breaking as tears continued to stream down their cheeks. Their body convulsed with each sob, the weight of their suffering crushing them.

A pang of guilt gnawed at the villain’s conscience. They knew they could help, ease and rid of the horrors that tormented their dear hero. But they also knew the consequences.

Once done, there would be no turning back.

“I can’t— I can’t do it… I can’t live like this anymore…” The hero’s words were barely a mumbled whisper, choked out between their sobs as their tears continued to stream down like pouring rain.

The villain couldn’t bear it anymore.

With a heavy heart, the villain slowly crouched down to the hero’s shaking body. They gently lifted their chin out of their knees with a soft, delicate touch.

The hero gulped, their bloodshot gaze begging the villain as they stared into their eyes.

The villain sighed and said the one thing they would regret for the rest of their life.

“I’ll help you.”

The hero’s eyes immediately filled with relief.

The villain’s embodied the opposite.

The hero gasped out a shaking breath, a small smile taking on their face.

“Thank—“

”Don’t.”

The hero flinched back at the villain’s pained tone in confusion.

The villain could only let out a haunting chuckle.

“Please just…don’t.”

The hero slowly nodded as the villain stared into that familiar gaze they loved so dearly.

They loved them with their entire black heart.

They hoped in the future that they would never forgive themselves for this.

The villain slowly brought their hands to the side of the hero’s head and dug their fingers into their temples.

They watched as the hero began to thrash, terror filling their eyes as the hero’s nails dug deep into the villain’s wrists, trying to pry them off.

The villain’s heart broke more and more with each torturous cry that escaped the hero’s lips.

But they didn’t dare let go of them.

The hero’s breathing grew erratic, their body panicked as they heaved and stared back into the villain’s eyes, pleading for them to stop.

The villain wished they did.

Pain ripped a fresh hole in the villain's chest as they resisted against the hero’s struggles.

The villain's heart sank to their feet as they watched the thoughts behind their eyes begin to die out.

The hero’s grip on the villain’s wrists softened, their gaze bare, their breathing slowly going back to an even pace.

The villain let go.

They watched as the hero slowly looked up, their expression blank, devoid of anything at all.

The hero threw themselves into the villain.

The villain wrapped their arms tightly around the hero’s body as their hero nestled into their neck.

They had taken everything from their hero.

Their past. Their trauma. Their terror and their pain.

Their name. Their identity. The very essence that made them themselves.

The only thing they knew now was the villain.

The villain clutched their hero tighter, a dull permanent ache settling in their chest.

“What’s wrong?”

The villain hadn’t noticed the hero pulling back to brush a stray tear that escaped the villain’s eye.

They already wanted to undo everything.

“Nothing, Darling.”

They already wanted their hero back.

The hero sank into them again as the villain sank deeper and deeper into the dark sea of despair.

But they knew that was a wish that would never be granted.

[unforgivenn]

Failed escape/rescue attempts

Y'know, there's just something about failed rescue attempts or escape plans gone horribly wrong that just gets to me. It's not just the adrenaline rush of the chase or the thrill of the near miss, although those are definitely part of it. Being someone who's definitely more into psychological and trauma whump, It's the raw emotions, the sheer horror etched on the face of whumpee, when they realize that everything they hoped for is crumbling right before their eyes.

Picture this: you've got this poor soul, trapped in the clutches of their tormentor, clinging to the faint hope that someone out there cares enough to save them. Maybe they've been planning their escape for weeks, maybe even months or years mapping out every detail, every possible scenario. They've decided how to deal with the worst-case scenario and if they do get caught. They've played it out in their mind a thousand times, imagining the moment when they finally break free, when they taste sweet freedom once again. They keep dreaming about it, about how they'll greet and probably cry when they see their family. They think about what all things they'll do when they're free. They haven't been to a karaoke for a very long time.

But then, just when it seems like everything's falling into place, when they're on the verge of breaking out, it all goes to hell in a handbasket. Maybe the rescuers get ambushed, taken out brutally and mercilessly right in front of them. You can see the horror in whumpee's eyes when they see blood gushing out and covering their loved ones who decided to rescue them.

Whumpee screaming and shouting out their rescuer's names trying to get them up. Anything for them not to close their eyes. Whumpee's crying, their sobbing as whumper holds them back by their arms, not letting them run to their loved ones. They don't fucking care about what'll whumper do to them for showing this attitude. Right now, their world was just revolving around the near dead bodies on the ground. Maybe they even faint from the shock.

You can practically see the hope draining from their eyes, replaced by a bone-deep despair as they realize that their chance at freedom has slipped through their fingers. They feel so guilty. It's all their fault. All of it just like whumper said. If they weren't alive then the others would've still been alive. It's all their fucking fault. They feel guilty for even thinking of freedom because there's no way they deserve even a minute of it. The moment from the night keeps playing over in their mind making them break down more than just once.

Or maybe it's even worse. Maybe they're just seconds away from freedom, fingertips brushing against the promise of a new life, when it's all snatched away from them in an instant. It's like a gut punch, that moment when they realize that their fate is sealed, that they'll never escape the clutches of their tormentor.

And then there's the aftermath. The punishment for daring to dream of a life beyond their suffering. Maybe the whumper takes out their frustrations on the one they were trying to save, doling out punishment with a cruel and merciless hand. Maybe they're told, in no uncertain terms, that no one is coming for them, that they are utterly and completely alone in their misery.

[saltieststar]

I can see the path through Gortash's brilliant plan.

I don't believe Bhaal commanded the Dark Urge to ally with Gortash. Rather, I think Gortash spent years courting the Dark Urge, earning his admiration. It was Durge himself who spoke to Bhaal about the usefulness of such an alliance.

So, here's the draft of another plea Juliette made on Romeo's behalf:

Enver Gortash proposes an alliance between the Temple of Bhaal and the Temple of Bane. I did not see the value of such an alliance when he first proposed it many years ago. Still, the Banite has shown himself to be of some use alive, and if his usefulness were to cease, he'd make a fine offering to you, Father, and he will be offered to you.

Until then, Father, his genius will take us far. He has proposed we retrieve the Crown of Karsus. With such an artifact, we could rule this city from the shadows; this city would be yours, Father. With this Crown, I can succeed where Brother Sarevok failed. Let the Banite rule and conquer our neighbors. It is the tyrant who fears the assassin, not the assassin who fears the tyrant.

Once the Banite has amassed a great army, and my power is assured, I will offer him to you, Father, and I will use the army to begin this vile world's end. Everyone will die for YOU.

[the-baby-storyteller]

“It…hurts?” They think to themselves, noticing a strange pain that wasn’t there before.

“It…hurts!” They note in solitude, surprised at the magnitude of the pain.

“It hurts…it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.” They mumble incomprehensibly as their team transports them back to their base, their light, soothing touches doing little to quell their pain.

“It hurts,” They beg with tear stricken eyes to their friends, pleading with them to end the pain somehow, anyhow.

“It hurts.” They respond quietly when asked how they’d gone through it so long, avoiding the real question.

[leeyanyanyaaan]

dialogue | sibling moment

sibling A: do you want sibling B to get mad at you

sibling C, with no hesitation and the smuggest grin: Y E S

[strawberryphysician]

Writing concept: A King commissioning a special set of thrones that share an arm rest so he can hold hands with his Queen.

[imsosocold]

I like to think that Hunter got his face scar from Belos during one of his worst episodes because he mistook Hunter for Caleb. Belos then went into a full blown panic thinking he killed his real brother again and Hunter had to deal with that and the injury he just got.

[hugsandchaos]

Writing scenario: Lancelot doesn’t laugh often. Not just because of his sense of humor, but also because he often wheezes and sounds like he’s dying or something when he finds something very funny. When a guy who was scolding Lancelot for something irrational trips and falls while walking away, Lancelot excuses himself and runs off. Worried, Arthur follows him. When he finally catches up, Lancelot sounds and looks like he’s dying from laughter.

[jjk4isen]

super annoying gojo satoru when a girl comes up to you and asks you if he's your brother even after clearly seeing him grabbing your ass and saying super cheesy lines to you to make you only roll your eyes at him.

and you're stuck dumbfounded because it's not rocket science to figure out that you two are a thing just by looking at the both of you because the clingy bastard is quite literally stuck to you everywhere you go, whining and pleading for yet another kiss after stealing several from you.

and it's the same clinginess that prompts him to answer in your stead "yes actually. we're siblings" he beams a smile at you and you scowl, why the hell is he feeding onto this random girl's delusions like that? can't he take the hint?

you're not done scrutinising him when he grabs your chin with his big ass hands and smashes his lips onto yours, tugging and devouring your mouth into an extra sloppy kiss for the girl to take a hint.

he pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he licks his lips where yours had been a second ago. "is that obvious enough?" he chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as you see the girl storm off in the corner of your eye.

[skullzanta]

Random Scenario: Blood Girl

One day while you're in your room, a tired but attractive woman just opens your door and walks inside, completely ignoring you as they tear open your floor and then open a trapdoor you never knew existed, exposing a pool of what looks like blood, and just..starts drinking it without warning. After a few minutes, they gasp in relief and now look relaxed, leaving the room. They don't clean up the dripping blood that comes from their mouth, and scarily the blood smells sweet. What do you do?

[whump-in-the-closet]

when a powerful figure is reduced to kneeling. when the lord is forced to bow. when the exile stumbles into an unwelcoming bar. when the “beast” is chained by their horns. when a god is dragged behind their enemy’s chariot, a captive and trophy. when the loyal “guard dog” character is muzzled and the silver-tongued thief falls silent in horror.

that’s the shit

it’s about the contrapasso. the reversal of roles and the sudden, plunging terror of being unable to hide.

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write smut ?

(@urfriendlywriter | req by @rbsstuff @yourlocalmerchgirl anyone under the appropriate age, please proceed with caution :') hope this helps guys! )

writing smut depends on each person's writing style but i think there's something so gut-wrenchingly beautiful about smut when it's not very graphic and vivid. like., would this turn on a reader more?

"he kissed her, pulling her body closer to him."

or this?

"His lips felt so familiar it hurt her heart. His breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed. She let herself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against her spine. He drew her closer."

(Before proceeding further, these are all "in my opinion" what I think would make it better. Apply parts of the advice you like and neglect the aspects you do not agree with it. Once again I'm not saying you have to follow a certain type of style to write smut! Creative freedom exists for a reason!)

One may like either the top or the bottom one better, but it totally depends on your writing to make it work. Neither is bad, but the second example is more flattering, talking literally. (Here is me an year after writing this post, i think, either is amazing, depending on the context. the type of book you're writing, your writing style and preferences!)

express one's sensory feelings, and the readers will automatically know what's happening.

writing, "her walls clenched against him, her breath hitching with his every thrust" is better than writing, "she was about to cum".

(edit: once again, hi, it's me. Either is amazing depending on ur writing style. Everything at the end is about taste.)

here are some vocabulary you can introduce in your writing:

whimpered, whispered, breathed lightly, stuttered, groaned, grunted, yearned, whined, ached, clenched, coaxed, cried out, heaved, hissed

shivering, shuddering, curling up against one's body, squirming, squirting, touching, teasing, taunting, guiding, kneeling, begging, pining, pinching, grinding,

swallowing, panting, sucking in a sharp breath, thrusting, moving gently, gripped, biting, quivering,

nibbling, tugging, pressing, licking, flicking, sucking, panting, gritting, exhaling in short breaths,

wet kisses, brushing soft kisses across their body (yk where), licking, sucking, teasing, tracing, tickling, bucking hips, forcing one on their knees

holding hips, guiding the one on top, moving aimlessly, mindlessly, sounds they make turn insanely beautiful, sinful to listen to

some adverbs to use: desperately, hurriedly, knowingly, teasingly, tauntingly, aimlessly, shamelessly, breathlessly, passionately, delicately, hungrily

he sighed with pleasure

her skin flushed

he shuddered when her body moved against his

he planted kisses along her jawline

her lips turned red, messy, kissed and flushed.

his hands were on his hair, pulling him.

light touches traveled down his back

words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more

he arched his back, his breath quivering

her legs parted, sinking into the other's body, encircling around their waist.

+ mention the position, how they're being moved around---are they face down, kneeling, or standing, or on top or on bottom--it's really helpful to give a clear picture.

+ use lustful talk, slow seduction, teasing touches, erratic breathing, give the readers all while also giving them nothing. make them yearn but DO NOT PROLONG IT.

sources to refer to for more:

gesture that gets me on my knees !!

(more to comeee, check out my hot or kisses prompts on my master list!)

[unforgivenn]

SHACKLED BY ROYALTY

#1 :THE BEAST'S PET

Next/Masterlist

CW: abduction, captivity, slight whump, coercion, power dynamics, pet whump, drugging, defiant whumpee, swearing, dominant whumper, slavery

Noah woke to the jolt of the wagon hitting a rut in the road. Darkness surrounded him and he could only think he was blindfolded. The cloying scent of sweat and fear clinging to the air like a suffocating shroud. Disorient and groggy, he blinked away the remnants of his sleep, his senses gradually coming alive to the harsh reality. He suddenly sat up frantically shaking his head as if the tightened blindfold would somehow magically fall off.

"H-Hey!! Let me out of here!!" His body ached from the unforgiving jostle of the wagon, every bone protesting against the place he was in right now. Chains rattled with each bone-jarring bump in the road, a chilling reminder of the shackles that bound his wrists and ankles, tethering him to a fate he dared not contemplate.

"Where are you taking me?!!" Noah's screams only grew louder when no response was given. His heart beating so fast as if it would jump out of his chest. "ANSWER ME! SOMEONE!" He quietened when he heard a "tch" near him.

A deep, South American accent cut through the darkness like a blade, sending a shiver down Noah's spine. "Didn't expect him to wake up this early. And he's awfully loud," the voice mused, its casual cruelty sending a chill through the air.

Noah's heart pounded in his chest as he felt a rough hand grab his arm, the sting of a needle piercing his skin sending shockwaves of numbness coursing through his veins. Just then he heard whines around him. There were people. More people like him. Gradually, the numbness from the injection site started to spread.

Noah tried his best to speak something. Something that could catch the attention of other people there. He felt confused.

Who were these people? And where the hell were they taking him?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abruptly, the cart lurched to a halt, the sudden cessation of movement sending Noah sprawling against the unforgiving floor. He woke with a small cry of pain, his heart hammering in his chest as he listened, breath held in fearful anticipation.

Footsteps approached, heavy and purposeful, accompanied by the jingle of chains and the murmured voices of unseen captors. Noah's pulse quickened, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach like icy tendrils of dread.

Two muscular arms went under each of Noah's underarms holding him up.

"Where are you taking me?!" he cried out, his voice raw with fear, but his captors remained silent, their faces hidden in the shadows.

One of the guys patted Noah's head leaving him more enraged.

All of a sudden, he was thrown to the ground before he was being manhandled to be in a kneeling position with multiple chains on his neck, ankles and wrists holding him in place allowing his captors to have full control over him.

As the blindfold was ripped away, Noah blinked against the harsh light, his eyes adjusting to the sight of his surroundings. It seemed like some sort of a court room? His mind was still clouded up from the drug that was given to him.

"W-What the fu-" A harsh slap shut him up.

"Shush. The young prince will be here any second" Prince? What the fuck was happening?? He wanted to question more but knew better than that. It felt like a scene right out of Hollywood.

Suddenly, he saw the men around him which he thought were most probably the guards bowed down to a young man. Noah raised his head up as to see who it was before a rough hand in his hair forced his head back down only allowing him to see the man's piercing green eyes. The man whom they called the "young prince" stayed quiet. The tension in the room visibly increased before a deep voice spoke.

"Leave us." The guards were quick to retreat from their position and going out of the court room. Noah was about to get up from his kneeling position before flinching at the harsh voice. "Stay still slave!"

"Slave?!" Noah's voice wavered with disbelief, but the harsh slap that followed left him reeling, his cheek stinging with the sting of humiliation. He heard the man tutting.

"Oh dear" He sighed. "It's going to take a lot of time to break that swearing and defiance from you.. But.."

The man grinned, the smile no other than a vicious beast's. He leaned closer, his teeth barely just grazing the other's ears before he whispered. "Oh how I'll enjoy seeing you squirm and beg me to spare you" Noah's body practically froze, terror filling his eyes.

Desperation clawed at Noah's chest as he dared to question his captor's authority. "W-Who are you...?"

But the prince's response sent a chill through his bones—a predatory grin twisting his lips as he whispered promises of torment and submission.

"I'm Andrey. Son of Viktor Kozlov," the prince declared, his name a whispered curse that echoed in Noah's ears. "You will address me as 'sir'."

Noah's blood ran cold as the weight of his situation settled upon him. This was no mere kidnapping—it was a descent into a nightmare from which there would be no waking.

As the reality of his situation sank in, Noah's world spun on its axis, his mind racing with unanswered questions and unspoken fears. With each passing moment, the weight of his captivity grew heavier, a suffocating shadow looming over him, threatening to consume him whole.

Noah only knew this was going to be one hellish of a ride. And only god knew when it was going to end.

Taglist: @anutz1234 @ash-reh @miireux134 (Let me know if you want to be added <3)

[saltieststar]

Was I sweet once?

I know it's Gortash week, and I could, in theory, contribute, but I have demand avoidance and a bad case of procrastination. So, instead, here's the scenario that has been rattling around in the chaos that is my brain. It will eventually become a coherent piece of writing once I've satisfied the part of my brain that screams that I need to know

Enver brings Durge to a political event, where an old friend recognizes Durge. The event will likely be a ball. In his youth, Briar studied at New Olamn, where he met Ralagondar Silvershield. Ral, who had a serious gambling problem, fell into significant debt with Aeshma. Fortunately for Ral, Aeshma was Briar’s childhood friend, allowing Briar to help Ral get out of his predicament. The three became close friends, known for their mischief-making until Quillmysteriously disappeared. This is the moment Gortash realizes there is more to Durge than he appears. He discovers that Durge was raised in a noble Waterhavian house and actually has a name: Briar. When questioned, Durge dismissively claims it's his middle name. The Dark Urge Briar Scion of Bhaal has quite a ring to it, doesn't it? I am sure Gortash will do nothing sinister with this newfound information.

[modeus-the-misanthrope]

Writing/world building concept.

A god/goddess of death, but not only do they love and care about the living. They actively want them to grow and propogate. They love recieving souls from the god/goddess of life...in a very Yandere fashion.

They would step in and try to prevent any apocalypse scenario, but only because every single soul on this planet is THEIR'S. No exceptions, and they aren't afraid to tell the heroes that.

[saixria]

Somewhere in Apollo’s hospital on Olympus