Love Me A Classic Enemies To Lovers Prompt But Instead Of Them Going All Lovey Dovey For Each Other,

Day VIII

Death's Daughter

Dixie liked sunset. But he hated it too. It was beautiful, but people were inside. He preferred rooftops, renting a seventh floor apartment so he could sleep on sun-warmed gravel. He liked outside, but not the work of it. Drops fell from the sky. Rain.

He climbed down and slipped into his window, closing it. He made himself some ramen and looked at the city skyline. It was beautiful, black silhouettes against orange that faded from orange to pastel blue to black behind darkening clouds on a watercolor canvas. Above it all shone a full moon.

Thunder clapped as Dixie laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the pattering of the rain. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Morning came with rain falling steadily. A hissing was heard along with it, hardly distinguishable from the constant pattering. Dixie listened before carefully investigating.

It was a girl. A woman really, well-proportioned and well-endowed. But she wasn't human. At least, not unmodified. She had dark lavender skin, midnight purple horns, sharp midnight purple nails that could better be called claws, and a tail. She was making pancakes and eggs, her tail expertly flipping the cakes onto a plate stacked with them.

"Oh, morning. Thought you might enjoy breakfast you didn't have to make. Name's Lily. I was thinking I'd have you meet my dad in about a week, then we can arrange me meeting your parents and then marriage, though I guess I'm getting really ahead of myself if you don't accept. And I'm rambling on, sorry. You don't have to introduce yourself, I know all about you, what with having watched you for a while, a few years now...." She rambled on and Dixie noticed sharp ears under her dark, flowing, indigo hair. It flowed like water down her back and over her shoulders. "...and my dad's super hyped to meet you. 'Ell, ya shoulda seen 'is face when I tol' 'im 'bout my plan. 'Ead over 'eels, my d'scription o' ya. Oop. My tongue's slippin'. Been around the imps too long. Startin'.... Starting... to cut off my words. Am I talking too much? I come in and start rambling my tongue numb. How'd you sleep, Dixie?"

"Uh, alright."

"That's good." She nodded, finishing up with her cooking. She grabbed the syrup from the cabinet with an experienced hand, as though she'd been living there for a while. She dished up the food and took a seat beside Dixie and started eating. Dixie ate like a starved man after the first bite.

Author's Note: This is not finished, but I'm not gonna finish it. Writblr, do your thing.

Bouquet

Flowers are pretty, they are delicate things with beautiful and unique colors, smells, and shapes. But flowers also had hidden meanings in them, and Hailee prepared her big book of flower meanings to prepare the perfect bouquet.

Azaleas. They came in bright, lively pinks. Its meaning was a nice one, “Take care of yourself.” 

Arborvitae. They meant everlasting friendship, true friendship. The flowers were a pretty shade of white.

Alyssums. Another white flower. They’re meaning was “worth beyond beauty.” People had used them to repel negative emotions. 

Hawthorns meant hope. They’re flowers were white with gray speckles,  the fruits themselves were red.

Heliotropiums sends a message, “you are loved.” The flowers were mesmerizing shades of purple, and had many, many petals.

Adonis symbolizes loving memory. They were bright red, and had a ring of white around them in the middle.

The Almond Tree meant hope and awakening, while the flowers itself only meant hope, like the Hawthorns.

Anemones, a mix of purple and white. They meant persistence, perseverance. Things that could withstand. (Hailee guessed they were strong flowers)

Asters were pink, and their petals were thin and long. They had a lot of meanings. Loyalty, fidelity, wisdom, good thoughts, power, light

Begonias were yellow. Shyness, innocence, loyalty in love.

Clematis were spiritual beauty and creativity.

Iris were purple with yellow middles, they meant faith, wisdom, value, and friendship.

Jasmine’s went from light yellow to white. They meant love, delicate beauty, and grace.

Hailee decided to keep a lot of the purple flowers, like Iris, Anemones, and Heliotropiums. She added a single branch of Azalea, and decided to add four Arbovitae flowers.

WHUMP PROMPTS INVOLVING COLLARS

trigger warnings: torture, dehumanization, blood and gore, PTSD (everything in this is entirely fictional meant to inspire writers)

whumper making whumpee wear a collar with whumper’s own name on it, so that everyone knows who owns whumpee.

collar that will only keeps on tightening around whumpee’s neck until whumpee says please.

prong collar. except instead of a dog, it’s wrapped around whumpee’s neck.

whumper having two different collars for whumpee, one with the words “good dog” engraved on it and the other with the words “bad dog”, depends on how whumpee behaves that day — whumpee is terrified whenever whumper puts the “bad dog” collar around their neck, because it means they will get punished; and so they try their very best to always be a “good dog”.

whumpee trying to remove their collar by themself by scratching and digging their nails into their skin until they bleed.

collar with barbed wires that bite into whumpee’s neck each time whumpee moves or breathes. the chances of infection and necrosis are high if left on and untreated for too long.

whumpee not being able to stop absentmindedly trace their fingers over their bruised neck where the collar used to be, no matter how long it’s been since their rescue.

post rescue. whumpee having difficult time speaking, eating or drinking water due to the bruises around their neck that were inflicted by the collar they were forced to wear — this could cause them to stop talking or eating, or it could cause them to talk and eat less.

whumpee wanting (needing) whumper to own them. they beg whumper to please put the collar on them again. please please please please don’t abandon them.

whumpee having been brainwashed into thinking that having a collar around their neck means they’re not a stray. thus they think caretaker is going to abandon them because caretaker didn’t put a collar around their neck like whumper did!!!!

whumpee having a panic attack. they’ve lost their collar; the collar was their shield telling others to fuck off because “this one is already taken”. but now there isn’t a collar around their neck anymore, they are going to scent an unowned meat, and they are going to crawl out of the shadows to feast on whumpee.

whumpee attacks whumper, but they are abruptly stopped when whumper activates whumpee’s shock collar, leaving whumpee convulsing helplessly on the floor.

whumpee having PTSD from the collar where they, even without the collar, think they cannot breathe and so they start panicking.

whumper telling whumpee to wrap a collar around whumpee’s own neck by themself. whumpee having no choice but to obey when disobedience only means excruciating pain. they’ve learned their lesson the hard way.

whumper making sure whumpee sees themself wearing a collar by holding up a mirror in front of them. “look at you. surrender suits you. you’re so pretty with a collar around your neck.”

whumper letting whumpee choose which collar they want.

whumper, upon recapturing whumpee, holds whumpee’s old collar in their hands as they slowly approach whumpee. the sight of the collar alone is enough to break whumpee down.

whumpee having an episode in which they attack every doctor and every nurse who’s trying to help them. caretaker hates to do this, but they have no choice but to threaten whumpee by saying they will have to put a collar on whumpee again if whumpee isn’t behaving, knowing what whumpee went through during their time with whumper. it works because whumpee, despite trembling like a leaf, stops trying to hurt themself and the hospital staff right away. and the fact it works breaks caretaker.

whumpee burning their collar after they escape whumper.

caretaker applying salve on whumpee’s neck to ease the pain caused by the collar whumper made them wear.

whumpee being extremely paranoid and not letting anybody get close to their neck, without having a panic attack, after their rescue. caretakers are trying their best because, in order to properly treat whumpee, they have to be able to inspect the damage on whumpee’s neck so that they can offer treatment accordingly.

whumpee feeling the needs to always wear a scarf to hide the bruises around their neck that were caused by the collar whumper made them wear.

whumper making whumpee say thank you and kiss the back of whumper’s hand each time whumper puts a collar on them.

whumper clasping a collar around whumpee’s neck without no warning, catching whumpee off guard. by the time whumpee realizes what’s happened, it’s already too late.

whumper giving whumpee a collar that matches whumper’s dog’s collar. so now whumper has two pets!

whumper pulling whumpee in for a kiss on the lips, by yanking the chain attached to the collar around whumpee’s neck, eliciting an involuntarily moan from whumpee.

whumper touching their hand to the collar around whumpee’s neck, running their finger over it and leaning in to breathe the scent of whumpee’s hatred, fear, and possibly arousal.

have you guys done that “what kind of reader are you” quiz and if so what did you get

Hi Jana! Do you mind doing general scenario and dialogue prompts for 2 firefighters who are both new and go from enemies to lovers? Thanks!

Hi Anon! :)

Firefighter Prompts - Enemies to Lovers

Scenario Prompts

Meeting each other in the weight room of the fire station often turns into a competition for these two firefighters and sometimes the others finally have to step in.

They are not each other's favourite person. But they are a team and going into life-or-death situations requires a lot of trust in each other.

The other firefighters have had enough of their fights and plan to bring them closer together. With complete success.

Dialogue Prompts

"It's okay to admit that I'm a better firefighter than you." "You wish."

"Don't ever put yourself in harm's way like that again!" "We're firefighters, that's our job."

"You think, you're better than me? Okay, let's make a bet about that."

"Of course, I'll always have your back. We're a team, right?"

"You have quite a lot of soot on your face." "Yeah, I look ridiculous, I know." "Nah, looks kind of handsome on you."

"Come back safe, alright?" "Wow, didn't know you cared."

More: Firefighter/Police AUs

Have fun!

- Jana

Day X

CyP

Like anything involving the government, it took forever for he corpos to gain the necessary power to properly influence the government. However, because the government was structured quite solidly, it never became a puppet. Still, what the corpos wanted, the corpos (usually) got, sometimes with caveats, sometimes without. When they wanted a monopoly, the government said, "Keep the prices reasonable." When they wanted children back in the workforce, the government said, "Keep the place safe and clean." When they wanted cheap resources, the government said, "Make it sustainable." But when the corpos said, "Let's make robots," the government turned a blind eye. It seemed they didn't want to have to govern another set of individuals, so they let the corpos handle it.

Of course, the corpos did just that, and the results were unsavory, to say the least. Then the government stepped in because the people started to say something. So the government said, "These androids are sentient beings." And they were, a small part of why the masses had united to relieve their oppression.

But that was it. Classic government blunder. Not clearly defining something and then it gets loopholed to high heaven. That's when the people stepped in. Even if they couldn't stop the corpos or the government, they could control themselves. So they made clubs and special apartments and parks specially catered to androids. Now not all of them were exclusive to them, such as LOVE.EXE.

But some of them were. One such establishment was The Ring. The makings of a corpo, but run by androids and humans, it was special. It was a setup of fighting, winners and losers alike getting paid by enjoyment from the fans. The Ring was funded entirely by donations and tips, trying to remain nonprofit the best they could in the capitalist hellscape they called home.

It was a place HCTR-1770, better known as Itto, frequented. A heavy machine, he was 12 feet tall and three and a half tons, built to haul hundreds of tons on his own. It was a quirk of EGGS. They over-engineered all their products to maximize efficiency and strength and longevity.

He shuffled his feet like he'd seen on TV. His opponent, Boris, was also a mid-weight machine, designed to protect from military encounters. Itto came in close, waiting for Boris to initiate. Boris started with a body shot. Unlike with a human, an android didn't have as many limitations, and thus could fight freely. Replacement parts were cheap.

Itto returned with a blow to the face, knocking Boris' arm down and smashing his knee into his chest. Most fights ended with a concession, but select few ended with shut downs or death. It was to be expected if you went in there and the corpos weren't going to fuss. They'd just make more. For every android that got destroyed in The Ring, hundreds more were made to do that job. It wasn't too big a deal.

Boris grabbed Itto and slammed him into the ground, straddling him and pummelling him without letup. No breathing meant no needing to stop a flurry. Itto kept his face covered, then reached his legs up and flipped Boris over by his head.

Based on this post.

Day X

"Alright class, welcome to your first day of Melee 101! Now a lot of you are probably wondering why this class is mandatory. After all, you're here to learn magic, not hand-to-hand combat. The thing is, though, you can't rely on magic. In certain fields, it works unpredictably, necessitating use of other methods.

"In this room, there is a field which nullifies all magic. Go ahead, try it."

The students all tried, quickly getting frustrated. Dale twirled a knife between his fingers for a few moments until only the most determined of students were still trying.

"You can stop now. I think my point has been proven. Magic, in this room, is nullified. Now! Let's say you're out adventuring and you come across a dungeon. Before you know it, you're surrounded by kobolds. Dozens of them. They have little spears, no longer than your arm, and they don't seem particularly hostile. What do you do?"

A student raised her hand.

"Aris."

"Shoot fire at them! Burn the spears!"

"Great choice! But say you try that and it doesn't work.

You teach at a magic school, but you do not teach any magic. In fact, you are not even a mage. Yet your classes are among the few that every student has to take, no matter what kind of magic they are studying.

“how did you know i was a sub?”

baby I looked at you for 0.3 seconds before you got flustered and shy, cleared your throat, and looked away. you literally almost slipped trying to volunteer to grab something for me. I saw your eyes flutter shut when I leaned in to whisper something. I heard that sharp intake of breath when I told you that you were doing so good.

so go ahead, straighten your posture now. try to delude yourself that you’re not obvious. but you know as well as I do that it really doesn’t matter that you’re taller than me, bigger than me. it’s still just one look from me before you’re on your knees. it’s still my fingers leaving marks along your pretty skin. my voice taunting you, my lips swallowing your whimpers.

my hands working you over until you’re dripping, desperate for more. you like that, baby? feels good, doesn’t it? my pretty sub. so strong. so needy.

my kisses leaving an imprint on your brain that’ll outlast any bruise or scar. permanently rewiring your brain until all you can think about is how to please me, how to be good for me.

the world looks at you and sees someone composed, capable. but you know that you’re naught but a toy for me. ardent and willing. good sub.

let me show you how nice it feels to surrender. let me tease out your moans and your arousal until you’re pulsating and gasping. let me show you what pleasure is meant to feel like.

You were the healer—the last light of your party. But now your final ally dies in your arms, and there’s no one left to save. The enemy jeers, calling you useless. You look up, eyes hollow and black. The light is gone. The Void answers. You're no longer a cleric. You're something far worse.