#hAH the one fandom I can get back into writing for and it’s the one known for ship toxicity man I just know how to pick and choose don’t i

[xysidhequeen]

Be careful with these treats, or we'll have you pre-releasing the entire chapter bit by bit 😉

Speaking of, that last bit is suuuuuper cute! I think my favorite picture is Jason and Dani being chased. I can just imagine those two being chaos gremlins together 😆

I saw a thing that said the real joy of puns is not laughter but the pain of others, and I really couldn't deny the truth of it.

I've seen one or two Dick/Jazz on AO3, but I think that's about it. One I liked a lot was them meeting in the parenting section of a library (bookstore?) and then having coffee to talk about parenting their younger brothers (Dick had guardianship of Damien because Bruce was missing).

Just to add my name to the list, I've also re-read THAHRK an amount of times that I don't care to own up to. It's wonderful 💜

Hahaha alright I'll keep the rest under wraps. There's still a ton that's been hidden so plenty of surprises (also a lot more Dead On Main)

I was so happy writing the picture part. It made me feel so soft! Jason and Dani have a cute relationship, very much a sibling vibe (and Jason utterly adores being a big brother) I like throwing in hints of it here and there. They cause so much chaos together (and property damage)

That is so true. I love making people groan. One of the few things I miss about my old job is we had a chat and I managed to get my entire team into a pun battle. It was glorious. (We also did riddles. I got banned cause I kept answering them too fast)

I'm about to scour AO3 for those fics right now. The library one sounds so amazing! (Maybe when Red Knight is done, I'll write a little one shot of Dick and Jazz doing cute couple things) I love rare pairs. And also Batfam x Phanteam ships.

Ahsudhag WHY ARE YOU ALL CONSPIRING TODAY TO MAKE ME CRY?? I love all of you who read Red Knight you're so sweet. I still will never understand why people like my writing so much, but as long as it makes at least one person smile, I'm happy :)

[phyrestartr]

Man of Worship (P.1) | Zagreus x M!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

w/c: 2.3k #NSFW themes, demigod reader, eventual polyamory, traumatic past, healing from trauma, mentions of dub-con, mentions of suicide, hurt/comfort, boys being boys, toxic parents, olympic gods doing typical olympic god bs

Note: SO this is basically a rework of Rhubarb, even though I still want to pursue the rest of Rhubarb with that particular reader character, HOWEVER I generally make two or three versions of the same story while I'm brainstorming, and I ended up digging into more Greek mythos while looking for inspo and BOOM.

ANYWAY I didn't tag for this since it's a new fandom I'm writing for, but if you'd like to be tagged, pls feel free to leave a comment!! I'll update my tag form thing in a moment too :D I hope this is a fun read!!

--

1. A Gardener?

He noticed first the flutter of feathered wings. It was an odd thing to hear in the underworld, and even odder still to hear it come from the outer gardens–the place poor, pitiful Zagreus was barred from. 

Father won't tell me anything of this. And that was true--Hades was anything but straightforward and honest with his son. So, to the real parent of the house was where the prince went.

“Erm, Nyx?” Zagreus asked, shooting glances back at the iron gates as he met his mother-figure. “I've got a question for you, if you don't mind.”

“I do not mind. I will do my best to answer, my child.” She watched him with eased attention, then followed his gaze to the forbidden outdoors. “Is something the matter?” 

“No–well, maybe? Not sure, but. Well.” Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck. “Just–are there birds out in the garden?” 

Nyx blinked. “Birds?” 

“Yes. I keep hearing something fluttering around every now and then, and I swear I've seen something moving around in the garden. You know, the one I'm not allowed to enter?” 

“Ah.” The goddess nodded. “Of course. There is a new servant of the house, one who was chosen to tend to the gardens.”  

“Really.” Zagreus planted his hands on his hips and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, gaze returning to the forbidden area. “Well, that's the first I've heard of it.” 

“He does not linger long; he arrives with the sun, and leaves only when the work is done,” Nyx explained. “He is a diligent helper of the House. Your father is quite pleased, I've noticed.” 

“Well, I've never thought that Father could be pleased in any regards.” Zagreus’ mismatched gaze flickered back to Nyx. “But why now? The garden's never needed a tender before.”

“A flower wilted,” Nyx sighed, looking aside. “And your father has grown concerned.”

“Hah. Concerned for the plants? Good to know he can still give a damn about something,” Zagreus bit, sending a scalding glare to the throne. “Guess that's why he locked it up, kept it from me.”

Night smiled, sympathetic. “You do have a reputation.”

“One that I must uphold,” he agreed, heart light and spirit lifted higher. “Thank you, Nyx. I should get back to ransacking my father's domain.”

Nyx nodded sagely and reached a hand up, fixing the tilt of Zagreus’ burning laurel. “I would hope for nothing less, my child.” 

–

“You play music?” 

Your voice startled Zagreus, sending a Zeus-like jolt through him and holding him in place with a fit of numbing static. Thankfully, however, twas not the true bite of the sky king, and Zagreus had the luxury to back out of his room a few paces. 

“You heard?” He asked, face somehow both paling and burning in tandem.

You, whilst leaning against the iron gate, nodded. “‘N if I did?”

“Oh.” Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “That's unfortunate. Sorry for the bother.”

“Don't misunderstand me, god.” Your spectral eyes bore into him with easy confidence. Zagreus quite liked that look. “You played much like a dying pigeon at first, I'll admit, but you've improved.” 

Zagreus laughed and approached you. Your dry informality pricked him with intrigue. “Well, now I know you're lying.”

“Lies are useless for those who need the truth.” Your words came so bold, the prince had no choice but to believe you. “I can hear it. The notes–they come easier to you. Sweeter, even. Like figs ripe on the tree.” 

“Figs?” Zagreus tilted his head much like Cerberus might. “Huh. Can't say I've had one of those.” 

“Really? Well, then I shall see to it that you wonder no longer, god.” You leaned away, nearly out of sight of the iron-barred gateway, and jostled through the leaves of a bush or tree of sorts before the sharp snap of something announced your return. 

You stuck your arm through a gap in the fence, one where your glowing skin was threatened by a cascade of decorative thorns, but you didn't much care. That care, instead, found itself funneled into the deliverance of a ripe fig to the prince of the underworld, it seemed. 

Zagreus stared for a moment. He wasn't used to receiving gifts unless he bestowed one upon another, first. To him, this almost felt like–could it be--

“If you don't take it in the next three seconds, I'm going to eat it myself and not hand you another,” you groused.

“Hah.” He snatched the fruit from your hand. “You wouldn't dare.” 

“I've dared much worse, god, believe me.” You withdrew your hand and drummed your palms against the iron. “Well, enjoy. And be sure to clean your hands before touching that lyre again.” You looked him over, face placid as it'd been for his entire short history knowing you–but your eyes, the strange things, they hinted at hidden curiosities. “I'll be listening.” 

–

“Say, Meg, do you know much about the new House attendant?” Zagreus asked, flourishing his Stygian blade as he walked towards the Fury, prepared to fight after a quick chat.

Megaera's eyes narrowed. “You're talking about the flirt.”

“The flirt?” Zagreus rested his sword down, digging its diamond tip into the cracked ground. “Is that really what he's known for? Flirting? He doesn't seem like the type.”

A heavy sigh left Meg. “Ask Than. He might be more willing to endure your rambling and answer questions. I am not.” 

“You know, I think we really need to work on your patience.” Still, he flicked up his blade of the underworld, and lunged first. 

–

As the Fates would have it, Thanatos was already at the House. Even more fateful, still, was where he stood–not by the river Styx, no, but by the garden’s gate for a change. Death's presence on that side of the house seemed…odd, despite his infrequent visits to the lounge. Never before did he show interest in a coworker, neither, not unless it was his twin who needed some firm and stringent guidance. 

“Admiring the flowers?” Zagreus asked, and Death flinched. 

“No, I–” He sighed, and spared a look over his shoulder. “What do you want, Zagreus?” 

The shorter one shrugged, and stood beside his age-old friend. “Came to find you. Is that so odd?” 

“If you're going to shove more nectar in my hands, then you can forget it.” Thanatos looked away again and scowled beyond iron bars. “You've made your bed.”

Zagreus stifled a sigh, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I–well–in all honesty, I had a question, one that I'd hoped you could answer.”

“Then ask.”

“Right to the point then.” Zagreus cleared his throat and shuffled closer to Death. “Who exactly is the new gardener? Meg said you might know.” 

Thanatos graced him with a wide-eyed stare. “I thought you'd know by now.”

Zagreus shrugged. “I wouldn't be asking if I knew.” 

“He is–” Death paused, his jaw tightening, tendons threatening to snap. “Why do you want to know?”

Zagreus convinced himself not to pry. “We haven't had a new servant of the House in, well, eternities. Father wouldn't allow just anyone in here.” 

“Sure, but don't you think you should ask him yourself?”

“It's hard to catch him. He's quite flighty, as Fate would have it. Must be the wings.” 

“Must be.” Zagreus swore he heard the inkling of a smile on those words. “Well, I don't think it's fair for me to spoil the introduction. But I will say this–he was a servant of the House in life, and now continues on in death.” 

“Really?” Zagreus couldn't quite wrap his head around it. How could someone be devoted to the house before even arriving?

“Yes. He made my job easier, in some regards. Assisted, at the very least,” Death said.

“Huh.” Zagreus crossed his arms and scuffed his sole against time-worn stone. “Guess that explains that. I don't suppose you'd be willing to go into elaborate detail regarding what exactly our avian gardener did in life to earn yours and Father's favour? Or, even just his name?” 

“No.” A luminous wash of turquoise licked off Death's shoulders, his scythe. “Ask him yourself. I've work to do.”

And with the toll of a bell, he was gone. 

–

It took a while to catch you again. Apparently, you kept to a strict, self-imposed schedule that Zagreus couldn't even begin to understand despite its simplicity. Nyx told him you arrived come morning, at the very least. That may have been helpful, if Zagreus could tell the damn time in the underworld. 

So, he resorted to guessing; if he could not find you through the convenience of your daily routine, he'd swing by whenever he died. He was bound to run into you at some point. 

And he did. It was when he wandered to the lounge, eager to deliver a wealth of fish to the head chef, that he caught the ghostly sound of feathers against leaves.

Zagreus backed out of the lounge in time to see your curious glance. A rush pulsed through him–finally, finally, he'd get his chance to interrogate you.

“Hey!” He called. 

“Hey,” You called back. 

“Just--don’t go anywhere. I need to hand over some river denizens and then I need to speak with you,” Zagreus rambled off as quickly as he could. 

Your brows furrowed, but you offered a shallow nod. “I'll wait up.”

With that, Zagreus sped by the gossiping Meg and Dusa and a gaggle of other patrons to all but throw his catch to the head chef. It was a good haul today. Hopefully that meant–ah ha. 

Zagreus rolled the bottle of nectar over in his hands. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he sang, and ran off, tucking the gift away before approaching the iron bars.

You were toiling away, a little farther in the garden than before, but not too far to escape the prince's presence. It gave him a chance to take a good look at you: simple black chiton on a well-muscled frame, wings full of bronze feathers, wild hair tied back into the smallest of ponytails. You looked quite ordinary, save for the wings. 

But your eyes had been strange: they glowed. Not with the morose cold of Ixion, but with the exact opposite. Warm. Bronze. Sunlit, maybe. He'd never known sunlight, but you must have kept a drop of it in your very soul.

“So?” You said as you meandered back to him. You walked with unbothered confidence, much different to Zagreus’ sprightly impatience. “What important matters must we discuss?”

“Your name, first of all,” the prince requested. “I am Zagreus, son of Hades and--"

“Prince of the underworld,” you added. “Well, I figured you were him. Good to have a proper introduction, I suppose.” You took a breath. “As for me, you'll call me (Name).” 

Zagreus repeated the name. It held a fullness in his mouth, something sweet and foreign, too much like the fig you'd offered him not too long ago. Maybe you were the minor god of figs (wouldn't that be something?).

“Pleased to meet you, then. I trust the garden will be well-kept in your capable hands. And wings,” Zag said. “Oh! And, ah, here--a token of thanks for your hard work.”

Your brows raised and Zagreus’ chest filled with hope; for once, your blank mask changed, and you looked less like a gorgon-born statue and more like a human. Somehow, it gave him relief.

But your expression crumpled into furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “Nectar?” You wondered aloud. 

Zagreus nodded and slipped the bottle best he could through the gap. “Yes, I…I hope you will take it, if it pleases you.”

You examined the bottle as it slipped into your hand and leaned a shoulder up against the gate. “Odd. Why is it in the underworld?”

The tension left Zagreus’ muscles as you accepted the gift. “Not a clue. Maybe Olympus ferries some down here from time to time to try and liven things up.”

“Hah.” The mock laughter almost sounded genuine. “Dionysus would, from what I've heard of him.” You held the bottle up, watching the light reflect shards of gold and ghostly greens. “He's not so bad, that god of wine.” 

“You've met him?” Zagreus wondered.

“No,” you admitted. Your light-filled eyes found him again. “But I've met gods, when I once lived. No man should have to meet them. They bring misfortune, even the supposed good ones.” 

The prince took a sure step forward, and your eyes steeled. “Well, you're right about Dionysus,” he assured instead of scorned. “He's good. I'm sure he's had his moments, still. But I get on with him well.” I'm sure you would, too, he decided against saying; the more he took in your features, the more he realized the god's work carved into you, painting you unnatural colours and robbing you of something only humans could have. He didn't think you'd much enjoy being forced into a hypothetical with them. 

“Then I shall take your word for it,” you said. “And I will pretend this bottle comes from Dionysus, to make it more palatable.”

“Well, whatever pleases you.” Zagreus smiled and leaned against the wall by the gate. “But, if I may ask, which gods have you–”

“Boy,” Hades’ voice thundered, echoing down the hall. “Do not disturb the rest of the House and distract them from their duties. Unlike you, they do not wish to disappoint.” 

Zagreus clicked his tongue and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, of course, Father. I'll get right to ignoring every blasted person in this damn House. Perhaps I'll consider a life of solitude while I'm at it!” 

“Do not test me further, boy.”

Zagreus rolled his eyes, but gave in, finding your (gentler?) eyes once again. “Well. I'd more than happily argue with my father all day–or night–about this, but I wouldn't want you to bear the punishment.” 

You nodded a little and glanced from the prince back down to the bottle. “I appreciate this, princeling.”

“It's nothing, really.” Though Zagreus did indeed beam with delight. “Well, then I'll leave you to your work.”

“Be sure to come back. I need to return the favour,” you said as you turned. “Until then, princeling.”

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

How about some tasty teacher/student sexy times with Divus Crewel (TWST)? Headcanons or writing drabble idc I just need that man FERALLY

Oh ho you're in for a treat, my friend~ We have similar tastes, and I've already got this little drabble in mind that I've toyed around with~

This can be read as either male reader or gender neutral reader as the drabble never specifies the reader.

Title: Private Lessons

Characters: Divus Crewel x m!reader/gn!reader

Contains: Pet play, collar, leash, oral/throat fucking

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

Sitting at the desk, Divus sighed as he scribbled away at the papers before him, brow twitching at some of the answers the students.

"Honestly, how idiotic can these whelps be...?"

Running his hand through his hair, he took a deep breath, thinking carefully. He reached into his lap, tugging gently on a leather strap that rested over him. A gentle jingle sounded into the air before it was replaced with a deep hum from the teacher. A tint of red adorned his face, standing out from the blacks and whites of his appearance.

"Mm...~ Let's see now...Last paper. Ah...(y/n)'s paper...Hm..."

Unlike the other papers, he took his time with this one, audibly noting which answers were wrong.

"Number three...number six...the entirety of number seven..." He sighed. "I guess we need to do another personal lesson..."

Without looking, his free hand slid under the desk, pressing the back of your head further along his shaft til his tip touched the back of your throat. All of your "personal lessons" from him had paid of in this aspect at least, allowing you to take him as deep into your throat as possible, though you'd still gag slightly when you weren't expecting it, like now for example. You just wished it helped out acedemically, but secretly, you weren't complaining.

You looked up at him with watery eyes, your hands placed firmly on the ground to keep yourself steady. You were so well trained to know where your hands reside when they weren't tied behind you, and the sight of you so obedient only made Divus throb in your mouth.

"Such a good dog~ I'd give you a reward for work here, but I'm afraid you have too many incorrect answers on your paper. Oh well..." He rubbed the back of your head, fingers running through your hair as he placed his pen down. You felt his energy shift when the now free hand joined the one in your hair, and your feelings were confirmed when a devious smirk grew on his face.

You didn't need him to say anything to know your punishment was imminent. The grip on your head was met with his hips thrusting at the same time, a pleasured breath leaving the teacher as the sound mixed with your struggled gulping.

"Th-There we go~ Hah...~ If there's...one good thing you're good at...i-it's having a d-delicious mouth to fill up~"

If any previous sessions taught you anything, it's that you'd get no reprieve until your lesson was learned.

[mvskedxrtist]

Way Too Prideful

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: PwP (Plot what Plot), Master Kink, Degration, Hair Pulling, Mindbreaking, Slight Bondage

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Yes I know it seems weird that I'm not matching the colors. Here's the thing, at this point I've already showed what fandoms I'm writing for and y'all know that, so I'm now gonna let loose with these and just write whatever character comes in my mind that night. It also means I'm open for requests! I really do want one.

AMAB!Reader x Lucifer - Way Too Prideful

'How did he get himself in this situation?' He couldn't really remember much as he was getting his ass pummeled. It was only from his hair getting pulled from you that he now remembered.

Lucifer was just doing some paperwork that he had gotten from Diavolo when he heard the knock on the door and he turned to see you leaning on the door. "Ah, hello MC... I would like to chat, and I know it's around the time for my break. But not now, not until I get this work done." He explained and got back to putting his signature on some of the documents as you were looking at him.

You had a sneaky little glint in your eyes as you closed the door and stood behind him. "Yes.. I know you do. But you're gonna stop and take a break, Lucifer." You stated and turned the chair around so he could face you. "No I'm not MC, Lord Diavolo want this done soon." He retaliated and turned back around to his desk, not even knowing what would come up.

You on the other hand, rolled your left sleeve up so his demon pact mark could be shown as you looked straight at him. "Lucifer. Turn around and kneel." The demon of Pride felt a shiver run down his spine as he turned around and got on his knees in front of you. "We're not doing this damn game again, Lucifer. Seems you really need a break~" You chuckled under his breath as Lucifer knew what was going to happen.

Which had lead to now. Lucifer's hands were tied behind his back, the man was still on his knees but he looked so out of it while your thick cock was just stretching his ass out. "Nghhh~ h-hah~" He whined softly and knew he couldn't do much once he was in your control. You grabbed his hair and tugged on it while looking down at the sin, chuckling. "Isn't this a nice break, Luci?~ Or do you need more time?~" You were teasing him endless as you slammed your cock inside of him.

"The sin of pride, never really knows how to take a damn break. Always thinking he'll get praised by Lord Diavolo if he does his bidding~" Lucifer was whimpering and whining softly while he listened to your degrading thoughts. "M-master...~ G-gahhh~" He groaned and looked back at how you fit inside of his hole well. At times he regretted doing stuff like this, but he could care less at the moment. All he could think about was your cock deep inside of him.

"Such a whore for Diavolo's approval.. Even we both know who's the one in control of you. Right?" You tugged his hair again, pulling his head back so he can look you in the eyes. "Y-yes Master~ you are~" He moaned and whimpered from you pulling out of him. He wanted more of you.. Maybe he should beg for your cock and you'll give it to him.

"M-master~ please, please, please~ I need your cock deep inside me~ please~" Lucifer was begging you relentlessly while he was laying against his desk. You were just chuckling under your breath and looking down at the demon before you kissed his neck a bit. "For the most prideful demon in the Devildom, you sure are a cockslut~"

[vsaintsin]

Writeblr Re-Intro

Yo! I'm V Saintsin. Or V or Vin or Saintsin or whatever you want to call me that sounds right on your tongue. I'm a self-proclaimed Social Media fumbler who got a late start to the party and has never quite figured it out. I hate how hipster and edgy it sounds to say "I'm bad at social media" but like I used to work with some people who actually managed the social media accounts for the business we worked for and there were rules and whatnot and damn, I think online media is just not my medium. That being said, here I am! Hah

I'm an author and general mess who's hoping to be the miracle man (somebody who makes a living writing silly little stories). I do use a pseudonym but please hear me out when I say I didn't realize how edgy it sounds, it just has some sentimental value to my personal life. I'm so sorry that I sound like I'm in my emo phase HAHA

About me -

He/Him Transguy from the American Midwest (arguably the south, depending on who you talk to, but the older people still say "Sodi-pop" and "ope").

I'm dysautonomic, bendy, permanently sleepy, and a survivor of Crappy Doctors Who Suck At Doctoring.

I like DnD, Pathfinder, Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk, Dragon Age, and other things in that vein.

I do make art of my stories and characters (Tablet is currently not working so I'm in a dry spell).

My writing background is predominantly ancient, dusty RPs from as far back as the foopets days and fanfic writing on Quizilla - I am an old and wizened elder of the net.

My formal education was music performance and behavioral neuroscience, I don't really know how I got where I am.

This is not my first rodeo with tumblr but it is the first time I have anything to SAY instead of just lurking.

In the event of malfunction, you can put me outside for 5 minutes and I'll probably factory reset.

My existence as I know it hinges on a massive number of sticky notes plastered throughout my room.

What I'm lookin' for -

Idk, whatever? I'm down for most things. Did you write it? Cool, let me see. I'm not too bent on genre or anything, just fascinated by the art of storytelling.

A bit tentative with fanfiction but that's just because if it's not a fandom I'm familiar with I am rather clueless about what the hell is going on and if it's a fandom I am familiar with I HUNT DOWN THE DEEP LORE.

I like art a whole lot, including fanart. Also art advice, love seeing things from different perspectives and learning something new.

Mutuals, really, for any reason. Building better connections on here, getting to know people. I am hideously bad at this but I try.

What I write -

Science Fiction with heavy subjects that matter to me - trigger warnings on a story-by-story basis.

High Fantasy (eventually books I think?) characters and their backgrounds for DnD and Pathfinder - I have been tempted to share these to help people get ideas or just for free use?

Things that I delete because I have crippling imposter syndrome and publishing makes me nauseous (doin' it tho).

Stories that I hope will make people feel less alone or that people could relate to, stories that I wish I had when life was worse and I was reaching out for anything I could find to keep me afloat, stories that try to be critical of things that SUCK in a way that's any helpful.

Lots of curse words and cussing (that's just how people talk 'round here), dubious science, things that I hope might make you cry but in a good way though.

Character-Driven stories that revolve more around the development of the person and less around the plot itself if that makes sense.

I've put blurb things below for my primary project/series which features a grumpy, queer, 37-year old chain smoking Frenchman and his misadventures with life and love and unbridled rage. If any of that sounds cool stick around and hang out? (This part is a plug bc I did a thing and I'm proud of it) And if my books sounds interesting the first one is 99 cents on Kindle and you just need a phone and a free app to read it!

THE SECRET OF LIFE (Published) - Sci-Fi/Psychological Thriller, Bi M Lead, Lovers to Enemies, AI but the oldschool cool kind not the real world thing that's stealing our future

Carlisle-Trystan Antoinette is a mercenary on a hard road, navigating life and death itself in an infinite cycle started by powers above his understanding. He has one mission - warn The Dianican Space Station of the coming threat and put a stop to a war that would encapsulate the whole of the Sol System before it can ever begin. Unfortunately for Carlisle, reality is a tenuous thing, made up only by our understanding of it. At least, according to his Psychiatrist, who tells him that there is no war, that he was never a mercenary, and that what Carlisle is experiencing is a severe but manageable psychotic break. Stripped of his combat enhancements, his bio monitor, and everything he's every known, Carlisle has a decision to make. Does he give in to the thoughts and memories, so real that he can almost taste them, or does he live a life of comfort and ease, returning to a husband and daughter that he left behind?

TWs: Domestic and War Violence, suicide, rape, medical trauma, grief, drug use

THE SILENCE OF ANGELS (Due 2024, TSoL 2) - Betrayal and Rage, Learning how to love again slow-burn romantic subplot, Learning how to Dad, A general inability for any one thing to just go right

(Quick Rough Blurb that offers no spoilers for TSoL) Making connections isn't easy for somebody who's accustomed to burning bridges. Isolation has always been Carlisle's mantra for surviving his life. Playing a role comes second nature, pretending to be the man that everyone else wants to see in him. When an old friend is murdered Carlisle finds himself as the primary suspect with all evidence pointing to him so clearly that even he calls to question what he is capable of. Unwilling to believe that he could commit such a heinous crime, Carlisle sets off to find the truth of his friend's death - was Carlisle framed or does he truly have the capacity to bring such harm upon those he loves? Old and new bonds will be tested, faith broken, and the future of everyone called into question as lines are drawn and sides are picked.

TWs: Violence, mentions of SA, graphic character death, more grief, more death

I don't know what else to say... Later!

[i2rizz]

Haunt my boss!!

Fandom: Blue lock!

Characters: Ghost!Kaiser and gn! reader

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

The office was as dead as your will to be there, lit by buzzing fluorescent lights and filled with the faint scent of coffee and broken dreams. You were supposed to be filing reports, but instead, you were stuck in the storage room, digging through mountains of old junk because your boss decided you were “the most reliable.” Translation: no one else wanted to do it.

You groaned, pushing aside a dusty stack of papers when your fingers hit something cold and metallic. You pulled it out—a silver hand mirror, ornate and oddly heavy. The moment you touched it, the air turned icy, and the lights flickered.

Then, you heard it—a low chuckle, smooth and arrogant.

“Finally,” the voice said.

You spun around and nearly tripped over your own feet. Standing there, shimmering faintly in the dim light, was… a man. No, not just a man—a ghost. And not just any ghost. This one looked like he’d just walked off the cover of some high-end sports magazine. Blonde hair, piercing eyes, a smirk that could start wars.

“Who—what—” you stammered, pointing an unsteady finger at him.

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “The proper response is, ‘Wow, you’re amazing,’ but I guess I can forgive your lack of taste. I’m Michael Kaiser.”

“A ghost?” you managed to choke out.

“The best ghost,” he corrected, flashing a grin that was somehow both charming and insufferable.

You blinked. “Why are you haunting a storage room in an office building?”

“First of all, I don’t haunt. I exist with style. Secondly, I’m here because someone like me doesn’t just disappear quietly. I’m too important for that.”

“Right,” you said, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that a ghost with the ego of a professional athlete was standing in front of you.

“So, what do you want?” he asked, leaning casually against a shelf, even though he was floating. “Autograph? Pep talk?”

“I want to finish my work and go home,” you snapped. “But since you’re here, maybe you could haunt my boss instead of me.”

Kaiser raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Your boss? That guy in the bad suit who thinks he’s God’s gift to humanity?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“Hah. Sounds like competition,” he said, pushing off the shelf. “Alright, I’ll do it. Let’s see how he handles me.”

-----------

The next day, you were trying—and failing—not to laugh as your boss stomped around, muttering about “faulty wiring” and “cheap furniture.”

“WHO MOVED MY CHAIR?!” he roared, spinning around to find it perched neatly on top of his desk.

You glanced at the corner of the room, where Kaiser was lounging invisibly, tossing an imaginary ball from hand to hand. He shot you a wink before vanishing.

Moments later, a stack of papers flew off your boss’s desk, scattering like confetti.

“Unbelievable!” your boss barked, his face turning red.

Kaiser reappeared beside you, arms crossed. “Is this guy for real? He’s easier to rile up than Isagi on a bad day.”

“Whos isagi?.. Never mind..-you’re having way too much fun,” you whispered, trying not to laugh.

“Of course I am,” he said, flashing that trademark smirk. “I’m a genius. Chaos is my art form.”

By lunch, Kaiser had moved on to whispering insults through the vents. Watching your boss whip his head around, shouting, “WHO SAID THAT?!” was probably the highlight of your week.

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

By the third day, things were getting out of hand. Kaiser had started rearranging furniture, messing with the lights, and writing cryptic messages on the whiteboard.

Your boss looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He jumped at every little noise, his tie askew and his hair a mess.

“Alright, you need to dial it back,” you told Kaiser when the office was empty.

“What? This is barely a warm-up,” he said, tossing his hair like he was on a red carpet.

“I don’t want him to have a heart attack,” you said. “Just… embarrass him a little.”

Kaiser sighed dramatically. “Fine, but you’re ruining my fun.”

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

That evening, as the office fell silent, you found yourself sitting at your desk while Kaiser hovered nearby.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, “why are you really here? Stuck, I mean.”

He didn’t answer right away, his usual smirk fading slightly. “I guess… I didn’t want to be forgotten. Someone like me doesn’t just disappear, you know? I was supposed to be the best. The name everyone remembered.”

You frowned. “That’s… kind of sad.”

He scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. “Yeah, well. It’s not so bad now. You’re not the worst company I’ve had.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest ached a little. “Well, if it helps, you’ve made my life way more interesting.”

His smirk returned, softer this time. “Of course I have.”

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

The next morning, you walked into the office to find your boss standing frozen in front of the whiteboard. Scrawled across it in bold, confident letters was:

“Bow down to your new king. —Kaiser.”

Your boss turned to you, his face pale. “Who… who wrote this?!”

You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

Meanwhile, Kaiser appeared beside you, arms crossed and looking smug as ever. “Perfection, isn’t it?”

“You’re impossible,” you whispered, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Only because I’m that good,” he replied, winking before disappearing into thin air.

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

Idk if its good since i wrote this in like- less than 30mins but please leave your thoughts on my very first one shot/post! Yes you can make requests and i will try to write them the sooner i can if i find them interesting and im comfortable w it! Have a great day/night!!

[olderthannetfic]

Per the Ron-bashing thing, and as a funny sort of reverse of it: my favorite thing ever was when I got a comment — on an exchange fic where authors hadn’t yet been revealed — that was for a femslash ship in my fandom where someone (not the recip) was like “god, can [femslash ship] writers stop bashing [male character] all the time challenge?” Not only is [male character] my favorite character and I write significantly more fics focused on him than that femslash ship, but also…. What they were claiming was “bashing” was one of the women in the ship reacting negatively to him initially *in the way that she does in the actual show when she first meets him*.

Like idk sometimes I think that people whining about character bashing need to get some basic reading comprehension. One character having a negative opinion of another character in a fic, especially when it follows from their preexisting characterization, is not the same as the author “bashing” them. Yes, even if the author never “contradicts” it later. Like, the fact wasn’t about that male character, he just happened to be existing in that earlier scene. So no I didn’t go back to him later and show that the character’s opinion has changed. Because that wasn’t the point.

Also I read a lot of fic for that femslash fic and like, sorry you’re seeing so much bashing but I don’t? I see some people in the fandom in *meta* and in private discussions talk about disliking that male character because he can sometimes be creepy to women, or just because his ship is more popular than theirs. But I can’t think of very many fics focused on that ship that are about bashing him. And why would they be? It’s not about him, it’s about the two women. So like maybe just adjust who you’re reading and don’t read from the people who do all the bashing. It’s a popular enough ship that you should be able to do that

--

Hah. Yeah, people tend to be oversensitive.

When I think of Ron bashing (which used to be everywhere back in the day), I'm thinking of that bog standard fic where someone gets turned into The Villain to get in the way of the main ship. They're always The Villain in the same trite ways, not just within fic of that character but across fandoms where this pattern happens. They'll be a cliched homophobic bigot or a cliched evil, jealous harpy, far more doltish than in canon or will switch sides to join the local dark lord even when that makes absolutely no sense, etc.

In fact, fanon Ron is so notorious for this kind of flanderization that he's the trope namer at TV Tropes.

If you're not pulling some Ron the Death Eater nonsense, you probably aren't writing bashing fic. People need to get over themselves.

[look-a-yandere-fandom-blog]

Ahhh, would love a part 2 for reader/The Obsessed in the near future! There’s not enough yandere Shadow of War fics on this app or on any other platform! ❤️

Lingering Denial | Oneshot Continued

_________________________________

The Obsessed / Gender Neutral Reader

Fandom: Middle Earth: Shadow of War 

_________________________________

Romantic Yandere.

PT 1 |

_________________________________

Content Warning: Delusional/obsessive/possessive behaviour, violence, threats, blood, paranoia, mentions of stalking.

(If there’s anything else I need to add to these warnings, please let me know.)

Thanks for the request, anon! Totally agree on the lack of yandere SOW stuffs (though I have seen some great headcanons here on tumblr). That was what drove me to write the original oneshot, alongside a hefty dose of favouritism for the obsessed-

Speaking of the obsessed, I had a bit of fun with him in this one, specifically with putting him in a less-stabby-than-usual situation, something he doesn't get in the game as every time you run into an obsessed he's trying to kill you, or you to him...

Also because I couldn't deal with him being stabby all the time, as our reader is much more mortal than Talion, haha.

The idea of how he would act once he got what he wanted was an interesting one, so I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I did writing! :D

_________________________________

Finally, he has fallen asleep.

Head nestled into your shoulder, arms enveloping you like a cage. His expression calm, but his hold tight and selfish.

You refused to fall under before him. Even though your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, drained by stress, you dared not make yourself more vulnerable than you already were.

Ratak had been staring for hours. Wide eyes locked to your form. Memorising every detail, every dot, every scar. Mesmerised. A spell broken only by the orc's occasional mutterings.

Murmurs of glee, pent-up questions he had no opportunity to ask before, and comments about how different your human features were to his.

The latter left a bitter taste in your mouth. Those comments accompanied by a wandering gaze. Imagining what lay where his hungry eyes could not see, hidden beneath layers of clothing. Dreaming of the day he would be allowed to explore it.

But tonight, he is happy. Tonight, he is content with this. Side by side. Just you and him.

You can hardly believe your own predicament, as you consider what has led you here.

Back to the ground, sword to his chest, his forehead against yours.

It feels as though an age has passed since then.

The two of you trapped in a stand-off. Your motives so different, and his was unfathomable.

You could not understand how this orc had fallen for you, as he claimed, so suddenly. There was no logic behind it, no strategy, no benefit he could possibly gain by making you believe this.

Which led you to the truth: that he meant it. That he had built up this bonfire of obsession, allowed it to flicker and flame since you had first met. Until it was all-consuming, and impossible to stamp out.

But, even with that, you did not trust the hand around your neck. The glint in his eyes. The maddened longing that afflicted his every movement, his every lovingly vicious word.

And quickly you realised: despite his infatuation, he could kill you.

If pushed too far. If fought against. If he believed slicing your neck with his own claws was a better fate than letting you go, he would do it.

You knew he would.

So, you lowered your sword. The point removed from Ratak's chest.

Was it fear that caused your surrender? Or curiosity? You could not decipher it, breath caught in your throat, mind focused entirely on the blade in your hand.

You exhaled only when it was flat on the ground, sheathed by moss and grass.

"Hah... I knew you'd understand." Ratak spoke, disjointed teeth morphing into a pleased smile.

His hand left your neck, trailing down to the hilt of your sword.

"You'll be mine, and I'll be yours..."

You winced, cursing the world itself as he pried your hand from it, forcing you to let go of the blade. Betraying your instincts, you let the hilt fall from your fingertips.

The faint clink of its landing was nearly inaudible. To you, it was deafening.

Then, you were jostled.

Before you could come to terms with your decision, Ratak got to his feet, lifting you up into his arms with frightening ease. Held to the bloodstain adorning his chest, shallow and slowly drying.

"Right, my love?" He posited.

You did not answer. Luckily, he did not seem to care.

With a press of his cracked lips to your temple, he began to walk.

Emboldened by your surrender, the orc was more than eager to leave your sword, the symbol of your human allegiances, forgotten. Left behind with his helmet. Embraced by naught but dirt and worms.

You have no clue how long he walked for. The trees and grass and branches and rocks seeming to repeat endlessly. But Ratak's steps were sure. He knew where he was going.

And eventually, he wound up here. Where you now lay.

The room is one of dark, chipped, stone; it is hidden within the walls of a deserted fortress. Perhaps ransacked and half torn down, or perhaps half-built and abandoned. Regardless, a place that Ratak has made his own.

Laying in a makeshift bed of fur pelts and loosely-stitched fabric, the rest of the room aligns with the salvaged comforts. Furniture made of cobbled-together wood, bones, and leather are scattered about. The scene an echo of a home, but without the wear of being lived-in.

As your eyes trail over the same items for the hundredth time, you wonder if they were made specifically for your capture. The thought of him preparing this all, while you had been blissfully unaware of his stalking, sticks like a parasite.

How much had he seen while watching you? Was he always planning to bring you back here, willingly or not? Had he hoped, when alone here, that you would feel the same towards him?

You look to Ratak. A being made for violence, for battle, for bloodshed. To be a pawn of Lords and leaders greater than himself.

Yet he speaks of love so freely. His affection, albeit clumsy and abrasive, is affection nonetheless. Able to be dealt only by the violent hands he was moulded with. There is authentic emotion at its core, filtered through the brutal, bloody lens of obsession.

He is an enigma. A contradiction you cannot rationalise.

Of course, you consider the chance of simply asking him. Questioning what his infatuation spawned from or how he had made up this room seemed rather safe topics. Likely ones he would take pride in answering.

But, in spite of your wonderings, you do not wish to ask. Aversion overpowering intrigue. Nervous that, should you entertain him, Ratak would take it as an opportunity. An excuse. His lovesickness persuading him that your questions were signs of something deeper.

As you examine him, you notice that his arms have slackened. Sleep traitorously loosening his hold.

With a cautious shuffle, you attempt to drag yourself from his grip. Gradually, carefully. Cold air pricks your skin as the fur and fabric covers are shed. Ratak remains still.

You look to the door. It is bolted, rather excessively; metal rods and latches are attached to the wood, clear despite the poor light. There is risk in approaching it, but there is just as much in lingering here.

With another shuffle, you reach the edge of the bed. Your legs dangling off, unable to reach the floor from this height.

Then, about to descend, there is a sound from behind you. A groan, accompanied by the shifting of fabric.

You freeze like a startled animal.

Ratak is awake.

"Love?" He coos, eyes blinking open. Centring where you had been beside him. Now an empty spot.

Panic mars Ratak's expression as he shoots up. With frantic, half-focused, eyes he glances to and fro. Locking onto your figure as he spots you.

You are not where you should be, with your feet ever-so close to the floor. Too close.

He lunges, a snare set on its target, the action innate and impulsive. Arms snake around you, before yanking you to him.

A sigh echoes from above, the orc relieved, his human returned to his clutches. Where you should be.

All you feel, however, is on edge. This close, you are reminded of his size, his strength, how he looms over you like the sturdiest of mountains. Certain, powerful, and terribly stubborn.

"What were you doin' there, hm?" Ratak muses drowsily.

"I..." Your voice trails, caught unprepared. You try to keep your eyes on him, but you cannot help yourself.

A look is spared to the locked door. Only for a second. He follows it.

Ratak's brows furrow, creases forming in his skin as he reaches a conclusion. Unfortunately for you, it is the correct one.

"You want to leave..."

The adoring notes in his voice vanish. Swiftly replaced by snarls.

"You're trying to leave me, aren'tcha, love? You're tryin' to run away from me again."

Anxiety constricts in your stomach. Lying through your teeth, your voice is detached and firm.

"I am not trying to lea-"

"Don't you lie!" Ratak shrieks, shutting you up as he shakes with rage.

"Of course you're tryin' to leave! Can't bear being in my arms, is that it?"

Ratak's accusations continue. Nonsensical ramblings, as tangled and unintelligible as his proclamations of love.

"You're gonna run away from me... run back to bloody Gondor... let some filthy tark have you 'nstead of me!"

You wrack your mind, aware of just how dangerous he is right now. The last time he acted like this, you had your sword. But now, you cannot rely on its sharpened safety.

"I'll kill the bastard… lop his hands off for darin’ to touch you… make sure you can never leave me again...”

His hands twist and teem with threat. Yellow irises fogged over as he turns desperate.

Your time is running out. All he would need to do is fetch his axe from it's spot on the wall and...

An idea squirms into your mind. A horribly demeaning idea. It makes you feel sick. But nothing else would work. You have no weapon to threaten him with. Anger would not reach him, and neither would indifference.

"Never again… never ever again…”

In the end, there is nothing to lose.

You rest a reluctant hand on his forearm. Fingertips brushing along collections of aged scars. His accusations pause, puzzled.

Choking down the last shreds of your pride, you put on a softer voice. The voice of a lover.

"Please, Ratak..." The orc's name tastes like thorns on your tongue. "I did not intend to scare you... I am sorry."

"I am not leaving you, and I will not. I swear it."

Ratak's expression flickers, picking you apart.

He knows you are lying. Deep in the burrows of his mind, he knows. But as his chest flutters with the sensation of your palm against his flesh, he can hardly bring himself to care.

Your words are measured and gentle. Without animosity. Without distance. Speaking his name so tenderly. Reciprocating his affections. The hand that once held a blade to him is now comforting him.

Even if it is only an act, it is an act he wishes to drown himself in.

The orc's claws remain around you, burying into your skin like ticks, but his voice dims.

"No. You won't. You're meant for me..."

He sinks, no longer towering over you. Instead, he starts to slouch, head drooping as the night's exhaustion catches up with him.

"You wouldn't be happy with anyone else... Let alone some lousy tark..."

With a half-hearted chuckle, he lays down. You are dragged alongside him, caged once again.

"You love me. Not them." Ratak utters. Yet there is an uncertainty hidden within. An inflection you had not heard from him before.

"You love me..."

He whispers, and still, his uncertainty is not quite stifled. Searching for reassurance in the lines and dips of your face.

"Don't you, sweetness?"

With how closely he is watching, you cannot get away with silence. Your dignity burns before you as fatigue tugs at your resistance, begging you to give in.

Averting your gaze, ultimately, you answer.

"Yes. I... I love you."

He chuckles, genuinely this time. Euphoric to hear those words from you. Even if not a syllable is true.

As you yield to the sanctuary of sleep, you assure yourself. Someday you would escape here.

Someday.

But it would not be tonight.

Tonight, you and him lay together. Entangled in false vows and each other's arms. Sleeping dreamlessly.

_________________________________

[nyacoart]

Everyone who is getting excited over Rezero English React fics are back on the rise, y'all should also know the chinese fandom on LOFTER are so badly influenced by Rezero AO3 that they are also writing a bunch of react fics.

One chinese fan is such a big fan that they compiled a full completed list of Rezero React fics in chinese, english and even japanese. Unfortunately they didn't include my IQ react fic!! Why!! (jokes aside, it likely also because I did not tag the fic as a react fic and it not mainly ReZero HAH)

Surprisingly, there is actually one fully completed chinese rezero react fic that covers Arc 1-4 main story as well as all the IF routes, including Three Idiots: Cursed Goddess Statue SS. Instead of it being a simple theatre screening, the cast were thrown into a room where there is 6 doors present. Everyone have to go investigate the rooms in order to find tarot cards. If you want to try to read it yourself, you will have to create a LOFTER account which if you are not chinese, it might be a little difficult to create. But I will link it anyways here.

If anyone is interested, I don't mind sharing a simple summary of the fic, but I would not translate it as it is over 70 chapters including side content of Subaru hanging out with the other IF!Subarus where they temporarily returned to Japan, traumatized their parents, cried a lot, and then just as they thought they are going home, they somehow landed in Wrathbaru's world where they vibed in Pandemonium. The author kinda got lazy towards the end because in the final chapter of the main fic, they just skipped over to all of them going to Mainbaru's world.

To be honest what's crazy is that this same author who completed a react fic is now writing another one... Now based on puzzles... I have not read it but Imma be fr, react fics... Can indeed get boring over time... Even if it amusing...

[suzukiblu]

For your ask game, what’s your favorite thing you’ve ever written?

. . . god I don't even know, man, that's a LOT of things, hahaha. And like, that answer definitely changes depending on the day/year/phase of the moon. So you're getting a couple answers here! Also I'm gonna keep this mostly to DC and only include finished fics, because me picking between WIPs would take a thousand years and also probably kill us all, lol (ignore the fact that a couple of these fics have sequels in-progress right now, STILL COUNTS OKAY??).

everything happens for a reason. sometimes that reason is that you are stupid and make bad decisions. is one of the funniest fucking things I've ever written, full stop. Lex is SO fun to write, seriously, I could write him all fucking DAY.

I'm really proud of blondes really do have more fun, both because of how much it seems to have affected/touched people who read it and because I think it was my first experience with writing gender euphoria as a major thing and writing, like, an actual explicit trans narrative? Like, I definitely wrote genderfuckery and implications and metaphors before that and probably even some trans characters, arguably, but that's the first story I really remember deliberately just making about being TRANS. And also holy shit, man, did I ever love writing gender euphoria for the first time, especially because I'd mostly only seen gender DYSphoria as a focal point in other stories and it just didn't/doesn't resonate with me the same way. I'm not trans because everything else makes me miserable, I'm trans because that's what makes me HAPPY. I don't remember if I was intentionally thinking that at the time, but that's the story I wanted to write for that one.

one day this will all be yours and you found me when no one else was looking are both concepts I love and found really cathartic to write and was very pleased to finish. I love that they're sort of "families of choice" fics about, like, actual BIOLOGICAL families (like, in the context of the fics, anyway), which probably sounds weird but is a concept I'm sort of painfully fascinated by--like, about the fact that you CAN choose your family, obviously, but sometimes you're lucky enough to find out that you had someone worth choosing already and just didn't necessarily know it, or to both grow into people who CAN choose each other even if you had problems or lashed out due to outside traumas or didn't always understand each other. That's, like, very personally relevant and meaningful to me, the idea that maybe the thing that got all fucked-up and the choices you made when you didn't fully understand the consequences of them can still be worked through and repaired and made into something new and better.

Also, special mention because this one is back a few fandoms but zero humble on it: best friends means you get what you deserve is just really, really good, and I did GOOD on it, hah. I took a three-word prompt/concept and turned it into 17k of "hey, doesn't this make more sense for why this character is the way he is, and isn't this what the main character actually wanted??" in genre-savvy explanation of why the sidekick character might stick around for the antisocial asshole hero and seem perfectly happy to base their life largely around them no matter how said hero treats them, and then I made the Consequences(tm) happen to Jaskier and Geralt, both bad AND good. I am just SO dang proud of that one, UGH I love it. ❤️❤️❤️❤️ FRIENDSHIP, AND THE CONSEQUENCES THEREOF.

[edennill]

If Tolkien characters had Tumblr blogs part 2:

part 1

Finduilas:

url: waitingtothewind

pfp: drawing of a fictional crush in pastel colours (babygirl fulfills her royal duty to exercise patronage over artists by comissioning reams of fanart lol)

bio: ✧˖･* princess finduilas of nargothrond :) ✧˖･* 47 ✧˖･* poetry appreciator ✧˖･* romantic at heart ✧˖･* girl of many fandoms ✧˖･* favourite animal: doggos ✧˖･* favourite food: strawberry juice ✧˖･* and if I had a voice that could make mountains melt I would walk over stars just to see how it felt ✧˖･*

title: ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

has a very pink custom theme with a fancy font. runs a fandom/aesthetic blog and stays clear of discourse. writes really good meta that is quite popular and poems that get notes in the single digits. doesn't really know how to deal with anon hate. participates in every tag game she comes across.

Maeglin:

url: keeps changing it between @molelol and @twilitdark because he likes small animals, but wants to sound edgy.

pfp: keeps changing it between a baby mole and the kind of very dark photo where you can't really see what it's supposed to be.

bio: M / not a minor

title: the dark under the trees

guards his personal info incredibly closely (a good practice, but how much of it is due to his father having been so controlling that he learned secrecy early on is up for discussion). rarely posts, mostly reblogs photos and shitposts. vaguely vents about his idril/tuor/gondolin/treason problems. when he gets into discussions with people he can be uncomfortably fierce, has sent anon hate on occasion.

Celebrimbor:

url: craftingsilver

pfp: red eight pointed star (default variation, not technically fëanorian) on yellow background

bio: older/younger than you think | look I've seen the Trees that's enough | Noldorin jewelsmith | male

title: time and soul, wrought and tempered

mostly posts and reblogs crafting tiktoks and tips, sometimes adds a dash of science, philosophy or something personal. has made a resolution to filter out any posts pertaining to his family on his dashboard and keeps to it almost till the end. shows a strong sense of humour and has gathered quite a following.

Idril:

url: celebrin-does-things

pfp: blurred photo of her with her back to the camera

bio: 500s - architect, wife and mother - everyone is welcome

title: "ammë, there's winter in my boots"

started off as a miscellaneous blog, but shifted to being mostly about Eärendil's shenanigans. she vaguely vents about maeglin/gondolin/cousin's treason sometimes, but still comes off as way more laid back than irl. hardly used her tumblr before her son was born and still treats it mostly as a place to document things he has said + a way to talk with like three treasured mutuals. the architect part in bio is mostly a ruse because she has only ever completed one or two projects but can hardly reveal she's a princess, can she? (before the fall of nargothrond if she got on tumblr it was to nag Finduilas to remove her personal info from bio hah)

@eri-pl, this is in part because you asked (a while ago, sorry), though I'm afraid I don't have much to say about all your suggestions. I prefer not to get into Sauron's headspace actually, but the idea of him having access to social media is horrifying lol. And Pharazon has all the worst characteristics of Reddit atheists, non-ironic modern white supremacists and racist trolls rolled into one with the added horror of the new unsavoury state cult. Míriel is not allowed a sim card🙁😬

also I'm just now realising I tagged a compatriot in something I wrote at 3 am so if you have time stamps on you now know my messed up sleep schedule and if you don't I've just told you lol but never mind.

[ruthlesscore]

Hi hi ! This is Orange 🍊! Srry for the privacy, my og account kept showing up. Boo. But I love your sf6 works and you’re so sweet! May I plz request a Bosch cuddling hcs 🥺 👉👈? If not, I still want to thank u for writing for the street fighter fandom! All authors are accepted💙❤️

Bosch x Reader - Hot and Cold

- I literally love Bosch so much, Orange! I've been reading all your Bosch content! I literally love how you write for him! I really hope you enjoy this! Can the CC version of Bosch get some love? -

- sf6 spoilers below the cut -

Cuddling with Bosch is a bit strange. His body temperature constantly changes due to his new power. He's hot and then cold and then hot all over again. Oddly enough, he doesn't sweat at all. Not when he's hot or cold. Laying with him, he's kind of stiff. It'll take him a while to melt into you. He'll lay on his back while you're cuddling up against his arm. After awhile, he'll turn towards you, resting his chin on the top of your head, trying his best to not accidentally hurt you. His left hand would be lightly finger combing your hair. The right hand would be holding you gently.

Your hands would be gently running up and down his back, letting him know you aren't going anywhere. Your legs would be tangled together, feet always finding each other. His steady heartbeat is always a comforting sound, a reminder that he's still here with you, even with the impending doom of the tournament on the horizon.

The smell he has is surprising. Not because he has a smell, but because he smells good. He smells of tree and honey. He must've been hiding in a tree before coming over. Even with the shower he took, the smell of that sweet honey still lingers in the air.

Sometimes his hands would wander down your body, poking your sides or tickling the crook of your neck to get a reaction out of you. If you're ticklish, he won't let you live it down.

"So you are ticklish, ____! Hah! I knew it!"

Other times, he'll be awfully quiet, seeking validation. He's nervous that he'll hurt you. He doesn't want to, but he can't control his psycho power. With him not being able to fully control it, he is constantly risking your life when he's with you. During these moments of vulnerability and weakness, he tries his best to be gentle with you.

"Is this okay, ____? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

You and Bosch have a very weird relationship. One minute he's here cuddling you, whispering sweet nothings, and holding you close. The next minute he's clutching his chest, begging you to not get closer. During those sweet times, you both hold each other close with no intention of letting go, knowing that the moment will end soon. During the times with Bosch is going through a episode due to his Psycho Power, you always tell him that he can always come home to you. He could always talk and you'll always listen. Nevertheless, the two of you would have each other's backs, not matter how hot or cold it gets.

[konako]

did you ever see any red snowing fics??

i’m back on my ouat bullshit after about 5 years and i remember a tumblr blog along the lines of traumatising emma

i’ve read most of your fics and thegirl20’s fics again and i just need ruby lucas content

You need Ruby Lucas content, you say?

YOU CAME TO THE RIGHT PLACE. LET ME SHOW YOU AROUND.

@traumatizing-emma Is the blog to go to, for Red Snowing content, as far as I know! Here are a few of my faves.

You might also find something in my Red Snowing tag. Not much, I'm afraid, I haven't explored this trio as a romantic possibility (a... poly-bility. hah!) in a while!

You can always try my Partner In Crime's blog: @lovecanbesostrange.

Kat is every bit as unhinged and as obsessed with Ruby Lucas as I am — make no mistake! —, the only difference is she has the decency to keep her spiraling off main. Plus her blog has considerably more variety, while I'm a one-track-mind gal. She's also the MAIN CULPRIT behind some of the MOST devastating Red Snow feelings one can have.

Check her Red Snow tag(s) for the complete experience. But for the more polished (published) pieces, let me interest you in her AO3 work:

Four times Snow is on top and one time she isn't

I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

Keep you safe and warm

But if it's Red Snow pain that you're after, then Safe Cage is your destination. Look no further. This story might break your heart. (Red Queen is the romantic ship, btw!) I have had several meltdowns about Safe Cage. On main. Look the other way.

If Ruby Lucas Meta is more your speed, check out my maniacal rants tag. But also look out for Kat's tags under any Ruby post!! Some of the best commentary in the business!! The brain in that skull should be studied, but wait until I give back the single cell I borrowed.

Short Fics Inspired by a tumblr post? Or fics to dive into for longer? @foxofthedesert is your person! Their writing has a fantastic, rich flavour I can't get enough of. Seriously, this author has put together sentences that have made me gasp. You want to read something you can taste, smell, hear and picture? Read their work. We're blessed to have them!

Also, back when I was being unjustly blamed for getting people to watch OUAT again, I listed a few of the people in the fandom that were also responsible for the collective relapse. You can check them out. I'm sure they remain a gateway drug into the OUAT world, even in 2024.

I do have more recs for you, depending on your specific needs! But since you mentioned Red Snowing first, I tried to stay in that general area. Feel free to reach out again, if you need something else. I'm always here to help. I can't leave. I'm stuck.

[theresademoninyouroven]

I heard about the Slay the Princess AU you’re making, I’m so curious, I’ve been having so many issues trying to find fandom works of it and I’m so curious what people are thinking up!

Thank you for your question!

Answer under the read more for spoilers for The Pristine Cut!

Now, this is a very new development, so I don’t have too much solidly set. However! I do have the groundwork laid out, I believe.

This is an alternate path to the ‘The Princess and The Dragon’ route. It remains the same up until the player gets booted back into their body and decide to cut The Princess’ arm off by themself. When they get shunted back into The Princess’ body, they anticipate Opportunist attacking and catch their original body off-guard and use the opportunity (hah) to escape.

If I had to give a Narrator description to it:

Is— is that one gone now? Hm... good. That one seemed to be… unhelpful, in your goal to slay the princess.

(Voices™️ arguing I’m not good enough to write that out)

But before you can decide to sink your blade into the Princess’ heart, her eyes suddenly lock onto you. They’re… different. With a beady shine they didn’t have before. She lunges forward, using her free hand to strike the hand you’re carrying the knife with. It’s sent out of your hand, flung into the corner of the room with a loud clatter.

(Voices™️ Surprise)

A sickening crack fills the room as the Princess fully breaks away from her severed limb. And then she darts under your right side, scrambling across the stone floor. She’s up the stairs in an instant, practically on all fours— or, threes— and you hear the sound of a door being opened and then slammed shut.

You hear the sound again, this time quieter, more muffled.

~~~

And, if it had a canon end, the two would run out into the abyss and they’d be painfully parted as this vessel is collected. A voice remains undeveloped, as is re-subsumed into their body, to their dismay.

However, in my canon divergence- whatever-hoohah, when the two escape, (???) and then they’re free, running off into the woods to escape a presumed-chasing birdman-thing.

Snippet from writing I’m working on:

You’re deep within the woods. Your hands grip your ripped dress, keeping it from further wear by snagging on the underbrush. Your legs ache with how long you’ve been running.

You slow down.

(She sounds out of breath) ‘We’ve… traveled quite far… It should be safe to take a break… I think.’

(Explore) Are you sure? What if they’re chasing us?

‘I don’t know… I hope not. But even if they are, we shouldn’t waste all our energy at once… I’d hate to collapse and have them find us like that.’

That’s… true. I suppose we can rest a bit.

‘Thank you.’

You come to a stop. As you catch your breath, you take in the surroundings. The wind rustles through the leaves of the trees. Said leaves are beginning to decay, bearing specks of discoloration. The air isn’t warm, but it’s not as cold as the basement.

‘This… is nice. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to see what’s outside of the basement… much less what we’ve seen.’

~~~~

This is based on the nice princess, and would have different dialogue if the player got the harsh princess instead.

That’s what I’ve got at the moment, although the idea is rapidly developing in my head! I’m away from my computer at the moment, so I’m unable to draw anything for it currently. I’m happy to answer questions about it, if anyone has any! Especially since this is also a ‘Accidental creation of a 12th voice’ AU.

[byexbyez]

Hey. I just spent two hours reading your Leon fic and i’ve never read a better one for him. I’ve been looking on ao3 for days and thought i’d try my luck on tumblr because i’ve been so obsessed with him, and your fic was just beautiful. Hope this is not too much, but like, your characterization of him is so spot on and perfect — I’ve encountered too many fics where he is nothing like I imagine him to be. Yours isn’t one of those. Also your writing is just beautiful and gentle, and the angst is done in a way where it doesn’t seem like you tried too hard, like it just came to you naturally. You’re not telling the reader what to feel, you’re just writing it as it is. And i’m an emotional reader (lmao) so I actually cried once during it, for like a second or two. Not that deep. It’s just really late and I’m happy to have found this, and I really hope you write more because I’m eager to read more of your writing. Whether it’s Leon or someone else, couldn’t care less — just love your writing.

Also, I’m wondering what other “fandoms” you’re in? Maybe this is obnoxious, but I don’t usually read x reader fics, or anything that’s heterosexual for that matter because I happen to a full on lesbian (Leon just really does it for me, probably because he’s not real), but I love writing AND reading gay shit, and after reading your fic I’d kind of love to talk to you. No pressure though, I won’t scream and throw up if you say no to that. I’m just happy I’ve discovered your writing and I’d be happy still to continue “reading from afar”.

Hah. Okay, bye.

waking up to this ask got me like

thank you for taking two hours of your day to read it and i’m beyond grateful that you took the time to send me your thoughts <3

ao3 is an archive and it doesn’t have an algorithm. it can be hard to find fics, authors have to be extra meticulous when tagging their works so i get you. it can be hard to find a story to your liking!

“hope this is not too much” it would never be! i love love love when readers express their thoughts, no matter how “late” they think they are. comments are always appreciated and loved, you are never late to read a work or drop a comment.

okay so umm how do i break this. thank you so much for all of the compliments, i will cherish them. however, i’m going to post the last installment to the series this friday (i think) and it’ll probably be so ooc you’ll want to take back the compliments on leon’s characterization 😭

this meme sums up his actions basically lol.

“angst is done in a way where it doesn’t seem like you tried too hard, like it just came to you naturally.” the feeling, yes (stressed and depressed baby!), the writing, no. huh writing is hard, who would’ve thought. /sarcasm

no but like i had an insane amount of tabs open to help me write. they all consisted of various translators and “whats another word for xyz” searches because i wanted to be sure i used the words correctly.

yup, i don’t like telling the reader what to feel. i like showing how the characters feel so your thoughts about characterization made me so happy.

i’m so sorry i don’t write consistently, i wish i had that dedication. i usually go with sudden sparks of hyperfixation, so i can’t promise you consistent writing. on that note, i don’t think i deserve all this praise

my interests are pinned on my masterlist! (sh2 isn’t listed despite the fic because i wasn’t familiar with it until the recent remake. i just saw a pathetic blonde man and had a neuron activation: must write a character study).

feel free to talk to me about anything, my dms are open. though i’m very busy for a week or two, i’ll try to reply when i see your messages.

[lilolilyr]

For "Being Known" (Helena writer, Myka actress): 2 and 3, 6 and/or 7 (whichever you like better, or both), and 9!

Ah, thank you! My longest Bering and Wells fic to date :D

Moodboard & header for the fic, and Here's the ask meme

2. How did you come up with the idea?

It was part of a gift exchange, and my giftee had asked for a pop culture AU, with some fusion prompts for fandoms I didn't know very well - so instead of trying to find out enough about eg Buffy the Vampire Slayer to write a fic in that world, I asked whether a celebrity AU would work, and here we are!

3. Did the idea change at all by the time the fic was complete?

I expanded my initial idea a lot - adding Steve, Leena, Artie, Caturanga, Jane and Amanda, I'm pretty sure initially it was just supposed to be HG and Myka with side characters Claudia and Pete. I don't remember exactly what the plan was and what came later, apart from having the idea of Helena's conflict about wanting to remain anonymous while being passionate about something that could bring her a lot of fame early on...I'll have to see whether I still have my initial draft somewhere and I can add it at the end of the post, I tend to write in messages on telegram and copy paste them to an ao3 draft or word doc once I start editing, so the messages should still be the original first draft.

I think I was unsure whether or not I should add an AU-ified Christina related backstory and work that into part of the reason for Helena's reluctance over fame, I had several ideas about her own childhood, her knowing a child something happened to, or actually writing Christina into her backstory... I went back and forth between Christina being a child star and Helena herself being one, I think in the end I just made Helena one because it worked better for the story though I would have liked to have more Christina backstory, but oh well, kill your darlings.

6. How did you decide what tense and POV(s)to use? / 7. How did you decide what character(s) would narrate the fic?

Honestly, I rarely decide that kind of thing consciously - I guess if you want to write something commercially there are lots of things to consider, but I write for fun and I'll write wherever my ideas bring me. Sometimes I'll notice a scene works better from a different POV and I change it, but usually it just happens one way and then it's fine to leave it as is

In this case I think I immediately knew it would mainly be Helena's POV because it's really her story I wanted to tell.

9. Did you get stuck at any point? How did you get past that?

Claudia! Hah, I mean I didn't get stuck on her, but that I used her to get past difficult scenes, giving Helena a much needed push! Especially near the end, when it comes to Helena accepting the possibility of a relationship between her and Myka.

Thank you so much for the ask! This was fun to talk about :)

.

This is my draft for the fic, the way it was written (in a messenger chat with just myself in it, as I start most fics) in one go, before making any edits at all!

You'll notice a lot of 'xx' markers - because there aren't really any words with that, it's easy to search a text for that later on, so whenever I know I still need to fix something - add a sentence, translate a word, edit bullet points into paragraph, add entire scenes - I write XX to mark it for later.

wip bering and wells author actress AU for anandabrat

Working title The Perfect Warrior

HG (former child actor turned?) writer under pseudonym hiding from fame (bc burned out from kid fame?), slowly getting back into acting, does improv for fun

Myka either star there to help 'learning' amateur actors for xxkomparsen? Or she's a newcomer and HG is back on film?

Claudia's HG's friend, Pete Myka's

ohhh what about Helena's book being verfilmt & Myka main role, HG making sure she won't be overwhelmed..

xxx

xxflashback seven months prior

"H.G., I'm coming in!"

Helena covers her head with a pillow when she hears Claudia Donovan's shouting from the backyard before a well-aimed kick against the old garden door has it fling open.

"Breaking and entering, really?" Helena's muffled voice lets Claudia know where she is. "I would have thought that petty crime is belowxx you."

"Come oooon," Claudia pulls the pillow from her face and Helena is left squinting at the sudden light. "We're going out! A friend of mine has a gallery opening, and there's bound to be a crowd of interesting people there!"

"I can't," Helena grouches. "I have to write, I still haven't finished either of those silly sequels my agents want me to work on."

"Riiight," Claudia nods, juggling the pillow between her hands. "Because that's what you were doing right now. Writing."

"Oh, cut the sarcasm." Helena growls. She is in a bad enough mood without Claudia butting in and making it worse.

"Alright then." Instead of backing down, Claudia throws the pillow onto the bed and, hands on her hips, stares Helena down. "I'll speak xxklartext. You're wasting away here, H.G.! You hate the books you're supposed to write, you refuse to write anything else either, you haven't seen any of our friends in months and now you're getting your groceries delivered so you don't even have to leave the house? That's the final straw!"

"Who snitched on me," Helena xx Leena?sbcanonordontmention

"It'll be good for you," Claudia insists. "You can dazzle everyone with your Wikipedia brain, and maybe you'll meet a xxverleger who wants to publish one of your weirder novellas. Come on, get up. get up, if not for yourself then do it for me because there's no way I'll go schmooze with the rich and famous all on my own!"

"I still cannot believe you managed to talk me into this," Helena sighs, looking at the xx and bustle around her.

"I'm up, I'm up," Helena sighs and avoidsxxausweichen Claudia's attempt to pull her from the bed by sitting up. "Alright, what exactly is this opening we're going to?"

...

Laughing, herxxfriend Claudia bumps their elbows together. "You better believe it, there's no getting out of it now! And this will be good for you! xx I'm happy for you, H.G., this is a dream come true!" She twirls around without missing a step, taking it all in.

"The fact that it makes you xxgoodposition takes no part in it, I'm sure." Helena deflects. She doesn't want to admit that Claudia is right and she is thrilled to have her characters coming to life for the big screen - nor does she want it known that, despite all the negotiations and concessions on side of the production studio, she is still afraid that she won't recognise the world she created once the movie is done. Will they do justice to the worlds of trees and cogwheels, to the unseeing creator and the warrior with the unruly hair? Will they listen to Helena when she has suggestions, will the stick to the details from the book, will it even be possible to transfer it to the new medium?

This and more goes through Helena's mind as she lets Claudia drag her along over the big parking lot and storage area, past trucks with equipment and the xxvans for cast and crew towards the xxhall.

first time sees Myka - the perfect xxcharactername warrior.

xx looks after her xx her hair xx in the wind, a sharp edge to her big brown eyes that negates anything childish about their shape, xx stepping out of the camper

xx C hey, we're not here to flirt! Can't believe I need to say that to you, you're like, the least likely person xx xx pretty girl

xx not what - I mean yes beautiful, but not what that wasabout -

xx oh /beauuutiful

xx shut up Donovan

xx later sees Myka in makeup all *sideeye* what did you do to my xxcharactername

argument - need makeup! Looks silly on camera without, different than irl!

HG: well if so, just makeup that makes it look decent with the lights and closeups, NOT that kind of obvious eye makeup, and who had the idea that a warrior in a cyberpunk dystopia would need a bold red lip? Or shaved pits?

xx Myka uncomfortable, thinks she has done something wrong, especially when sent back out in the middle of the scene, doesn't notice the argument

co-star Pete tries to comfort her

xxMyka thinks maybe this was bad idea, should quit

xx HG will Not lose my warrior!

(xx Myka in trouble

xx HG kann wen zusammenscheißen, makes sure Myka's fine)

xx from then on Helena trying to keep an eye on Myka, asks how she's dealing with the pressure, what her plans are for if she'll be famous after this project, whether she has a good agent to protect her interests, etc... (eg where u live? city apartment...

H:security? M:none?? H:myself, nature away from most people M: wish could affort...)

Myka: know you're just doing this because you think I'm a good fit for the character and you don't want it to be ruined by me quitting, but I still really appreciate

HG: what?? No, am doing this - well, would for everyone! Know how it is, when I was a kid... nevermind. But, care about you too

Myka finds out why HG is so wary about fame

go to premiere together - "don't have to hold a speech, don't even have to tell anyone who you are, but at least go as my date?"

As usual, I had a first scene instantly in my head, then started thinking quicker than I could write and had to note down bullet points so I wouldn't forget anything xD

Again, thanks for the ask :)