#no art yet. just writing. sadly

[araigumaaa]

solo writing my half of the world without supervision and im getting too close to my own feelings. and i'm writing about an organization-

I also feel like i should mention that its kinda about religion?? but i feel like that was gotten from the mention of angels and such? but i just want to make sure ppl also know that i have not read the bible before and i also dont plan to as of right now.

[aria0fgold]

I don't know what I'm doing with this fic's story anymore at this point, I'm just doing feck all but somehow it's also so fun to just... make it a lil wacky.

[ink-and-dagger]

do you have any silco x reader fic recs? both on ao3 and tumblr?

Oh boy do I.

I have zero time for reading these days (sob sob) so I'm sadly not at all familiar with any new fics post S2 being aired. But let me lay before you a sumptuous feast; lovingly prepared by the old guard of the Silco fucker society.

Reader's responsibility applies - please check tags etc etc..

Flawless - @a-gal-with-taste

An apt title, for Gal's writing is, indeed, flawless. Silco x Sex Worker!Reader. Absolutely brutal and beautiful - to me, Gal is the Angela Carter of the Silco fandom.

Here be Dragons // Hic Sunt Dracones - @sherwood-forests

This will always be one of my top recommends for a Silco x Reader fic. It's unlike anything else that I've seen in the fandom, and it reminds me of one of my favourite books Uprooted by Naomi Novik. Gives me the cosy feels.

Penance - @astudyincontrasts

Hands down the hottest, sexiest Silco fic in my opinion. If you enjoyed Fleabag or want to bang that priest from Midnight Mass then you need to get on this fic ASAP. To this day I cannot set foot in a church without getting horny. Thanks Study.

Secret Ingredient - @sweatandwoe

This is the Silco fic that made me want to write my own. DWM exists because of Sweaty. Domestic romance and drama of the absolute best kind.

Come Morning - @chickenparm

Parm has so many Silco fics and they are all incredible and required reading for the fandom. But I've chosen this one because it's so incredibly real and human, and will rip your heart to shreds.

Swapped - @silcoitus

I love seeing my blorbos in Situations™ and this is one hell of a Situation™ to find oneself in. Fun, funny, and full of tension. I get the pleasure of beta-reading this one, and I always have the best time squawking at Coi in the comments bar on google docs.

Go, Team! - @vasiktomis

This is actually Marcus x Reader x Silco and it's fucking genius. Vas is a genius and a pervert and I love them and they're my role model. Everyone absolutely has the right not to engage with content that they're not interested in but also if you don't read this fic then you're a coward.

Bend But Not Break - @constantfragmentation

This is a Jane Eyre retelling in the form of a Silco x Reader fic. Yeah that's right. Regency Silco. Emotional constipation cranked up to the max and coats with tails? Yes please. Ensure that you're near a fainting couch whilst reading because you will swoon.

Art in the Heart - @juniper-sunny

Juni was out here giving Young Revolutionary Silco his time in the spotlight long before he was ever animated. If you're a new to the fandom and have come here specifically because of young Silco then AITH is required reading. Head over to Juni's you'll be fed good.

To The Depths - @cognacandlilac

Full disclosure, I haven't actually had the chance to read this fic yet. But it has been on my TBR for an embarrassingly long time and every time I see a snippet I'm like "hot damn I need to get on this pronto" because I just know I'm going to be totally obsessed and consumed by it.

I've only picked one fic for each of the above but I would honestly recommend just tearing through the entirety of their fic lists because there are some absolute masterpieces in there. This is also far from an extensive list - there are so many incredible writers in the fandom and I'm so sorry for anyone I've missed off. I say this with my whole heart - the Silco fandom is easily one of the most talented and skilled corners of the internet. We may be fairly small in numbers compared to other characters/fandoms, but by God the art and stories we have are platinum quality.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

David Gaider: "Just to clarify the "they're probably why you'll never see Fenris" thing, as it's spawned commentary: 1. It's the reasoning as was explained to me back then. 2. Obviously, if Bio *really* wanted to, they'd find a way around it. But it was a complication that meant he couldn't be included casually." [source]

[sigh-tofm]

if you’re a student… (some 18+)

… price

- keeps you company. he is well established and then some, and the stuff you study is way to advanced for any schooling he ever had, so he settles for helping you in other ways. if you study full time, you want for nothing. he makes sure your billing account is always topped up so you don’t have to work and gets all the shopping done for you. during your study sessions he’s nearby with the newspapers or a half-done report, making sure to keep both of your coffee mugs full. the night before big exams he gives you a massage and cooks a hearty meal to set you up for success.

- it’s not a secret that he finds you incredibly hot when you don your reading glasses and messy hair, no makeup on, and the fantasy of an old man like him having a darling little college student in his bed secretly drives him mad. so when you need to destress after a long session, he’s there to help.

… kyle

- studies with you. he probably has a little side project on his own - of course, he’s already set in his career, but he takes a local class every other semester just for fun. subjects like art history or food science, perfect stuff for tidbits and party tricks. you are very busy with your own studies so whenever he has free time, he sits down next to you in the kitchen or on the sofa with his own textbook and dutifully highlights important passages, while you scribble notes in the margins of your own textbook. you pull all-nighters together before big exams and read each other’s flash cards. he’s memorised your takeout orders and makes sure to keep you both fed.

- you both thoroughly unwind after, of course. at a point you’re so mentally exhausted that you just need to let loose and not think for a while. kyle obliges when you not so subtly slide your foot up his calf under the table.

… johnny

- enables you. johnny can’t sit still for more than a minute without anything to do, and being his significant other you sadly are the victim of his excessive energy. some days it’s enough to put on an action movie in the sitting room while you hide out upstairs or send him over to kyle’s for whatever they do together. other days you need to sternly send him for a run that lasts at least three hours, knowing it will knock him out after, giving you a combined four or five undisturbed hours of study time. occasionally you throw one of your theses or problems at him to get him to focus on something other than you, and if it’s within his field of interest he will fall quiet next to you and end up writing two or three pages explaining his own reasoning, citations and all.

- will always try to coax you to leave your books and come join him in the bedroom or shower. always nags that restitution is as important as the work in itself and won’t listen when you tell him it doesn’t work that way with studying. sometimes sneaks in between your legs under the table and laps at you until mess up your handwriting.

… simon

- tutors you. whatever it is you study, simon will become an expert in it by the time you’re ready to graduate. he gets copies of your textbooks and reads and annotates the same chapters as you do. he listens in on your online lectures and makes his own notes. he does all this partly out of curiosity, but mostly to be of assistance to you. before tests and exams he quizzes you and makes short writing prompts for you, forcing you to think about your material in new ways. date nights often involve flash cards (which tends to become a hilarious exercise after a few glasses of wine). it’s so important to him that you reach your goals, that he will spend hours of his own time to be able to support you as much as possible, in every way he can.

- he has more patience and endurance than you, so when you after six hours of repetition and revising lean back in your seat and lightly run your fingers down his back, he lightly swats your hand away and reminds you of the problem you haven’t answered yet. but after a little convincing, even he can’t resist your gentle request for long.

[vilhelios]

-; SWEET MUSIC PLAYING IN THE DARK.

your poor, overworked, singer-songwriter boyfriend has not been having a good time with comeback season. thankfully, he has you, his muse, to kickstart his creative processes—sadly, that means he's going to write yet another love song about you in his group's newest album.

CW: k-pop idol/group au! fluff, fluff and more fluff! mentions of xavier, zayne, sylus, and caleb ; not beta read, small text, all lowercase letters.

“and this—” a kiss to the jaw. “—is part of—” another kiss, a shiver jolting down your spine at the feel of his lips against your pulse point. “—your creative process?”

it’s almost embarrassing how small your voice is now, loud in the silence of rafayel’s little studio. your hands clench and unclench around rafayel’s white shirt as he peppers kisses up and down your neck, not a single sliver of your exposed skin remaining unkissed. (after all, he’d say, he must drown in every part of you.)

“hey, every artist needs their muse.” rafayel shrugs, his hands at your waist grabbing at the warm flesh there, a teasing yet grounding touch. “i just need to be appreciating said muse to get the lyrics flowing in my head.”

before you can say much else, he nuzzles his face against the crook of your neck, and he practically melts into you as he breathes in your comforting, familiar scent. like fresh laundry, citrus, honey; he recognises it as the new perfume he bought for you just a few months ago (oh, god bless royalties and good album sales… he gets to spoil his little darling). a happy little sigh leaves him as he nuzzles against you again, shifting to let your bodies melt together in a happy little pile on his office chair—you’re just what he needs after a stressful day of brainstorming new lyrics and melodies with zayne and sylus, banging his head against the wall designing concept art for the new album’s cover, and being dragged around the dance studio (half-dead and limbless) by caleb and xavier.

“yeah, i know…” you sigh, and move your hands upward, fingers curling in his soft purple hair. luckily enough, he hasn’t had to dye his hair yet, what with linkon’s netizens finding his hair to be a particularly lovable part of his charm. (they’d be right; also up there are his big, beautiful eyes, and his impressive vocal range.) there’s a beat of silence, and then you speak up again, pressing a kiss to his hair just as he presses one in kind to your throat; “are the lyrics popping up in your head…?”

“hmm.” rafayel hums, almost like he’s thinking about it. “no.” he says, simple as that, and chuckles when you groan in exasperation. “all the ones i can think of wouldn’t fit the theme. and sy would actually kill me for making us sing another ballad that was clearly inspired by you.”

(they’ve released two albums and five eps, rounding up to about 50 songs in their discography… a good chunk of the love songs rafayel got his hands on in the production process felt like individual love letters written and sung just for you. It’s starting to reach a point where some of the smarter hunters—as their fandom is called—have deduced that at least one of the boys is in a relationship.)

“really?” you raise an eyebrow at him, hand moving to pinch his cheek, “well… if it’s anything like your usual songs about me… I can agree that it doesn’t match the theme.” you pull back a little—which elicits a whine from rafayel—to look at his current getup, which he’d been too lazy to change out of after the photobook photoshoot: a crisp white shirt, black pants, and leather chest harnesses. his hands, idly rubbing up and down your sides, were adorned in black leather gloves. all in all, an attractive outfit that’s trying to encapsulate a “bad boy”, mafia vibe. “i'll have to side with sy on this one.”

“even mafiosos can sing about how they’d love their darling in every universe, y���know.” rafayel hums, leaning back to rest his head properly on the chair, eyes trained on your face. his hands continue their idle smoothing down your sides, touch gentle and warm through the layers of fabric separating your skin. those beautiful indigo-pink eyes hold that heartbreaking softness in them, and it makes you want to gently run your thumbs under the dark circles under his eyes. (you never noticed, not until caleb pointed it out, but he only ever looks at you this way.)

rafayel’s next words are soft, without the characteristic teasing and filled with something akin to reverence: “what’s the harm in another song?” he whispers, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek, "it’s just another universe to profess my love to you in, my darling muse.”

a/n: ... i saw rafayel in a harness, blacked out, and thirty minutes later this was ready on my word document. uhm. so those cards huh... (i have. enough pulls to secure you. but please come home early rafayel). reupload bc I FORGOT HOW TO TUMBLR??? and forgot tags 😭

[lullaebies]

HII your jaehaera x aegon iii has taken over my brain like OMGGG him & jaehaera >>>> but my request (if your still taking them) is how team green and black see how Aegon iii is infatuated/fixated/in love with Jaehaera. it's moments like Aegon talking to his brothers until he suddenly goes silent, his eyes tracking Jaehaera who's passing by. Or Jaehaera dancing with another man and his jealousy. No matter the situation the way he looks at her is the same. Gentle and tender but intense. Like I need this man to be a devout simp 😩🫡

a/n: thank you so much love!! they have genuinely took over my brain i'm so happy i'm not alone in this lmaoo. now i didn't really have time to write the past few days sadly (which is why other reqs are still pending - sorry guys!), but for this request i actually had something in my drafts that fit to it. i am writing a chaptered fic au for jaehaegon (...and jaehaerys/viserys ii lol) and i've been testing writing interactions for them to get the vibe i want... it changed a lot since then, but this was one of the test fics. i hope you will enjoy it! this is viserys ii pov, but there are lots of mentions to other characters.

It is deep into the night’s feast when he notices Aegon playing with the ruby ring upon his pinky. 

Well. Viserys supposes the more proper word is fiddle, though his brother is hardly a restless man. He is far more fitting into the description of rigid, filling the black of his doublets with broad shoulders of deliberate posture and a sense of responsibility.

Or at least so he had been, until their estranged family had come for a visit. Their uncle and aunt had come out of the woodworks that had been Oldtown to request to build a Keep to the west of it. That had been for their son, who had nothing to inherit, as it stands. Viserys’s mother had allowed them to make their case, his father had allowed them to see his smirks, but nothing yet had been set in stone.

It is an art, to convince those who never planned on being convinced. While Prince Aegon the Elder and Princess Helaena had been mostly unsuccessful in their endeavours, their daughter Jaehaera, had entered the court with prideful flare to her step and an ever-determined gaze. One could not say she had charmed his mother and father, but Viserys thinks they had hardly been the ones she had her mind on setting her claws in.

Instead, his own brother, usually so clear-headed and mindful, had his dark purple gaze almost unwaveringly on her. A genuine fool, he thinks. Viserys does not know what the witch has done to make him so dim-witted, but gods be good, she had known her plays. 

While her twin and younger brother had sat nearby him at the table for the better of the event, Jaehaera had entered the feast late, much after everyone’s introductions. The announcement of her arrival had music forced to a stop, setting the majority of eyes to the entrance. 

A lady pleasing on the eyes would steal a man’s thought, that is evident with his own brother, but a lady with strong enough wit would steal a man’s mind. And as music restarted with the appearance of her smile, and men flocked by her for a dance,  Aegon could not be more obvious he had not been at peace, drinking vintage he had prior declared abhorrent.

In truth, Aegon the Younger paralleled Aegon the Elder with the sudden swallow of drinks. And while his brother had been staunchly, unabashedly, moronically staring at Jaehaera, her father had been dead on Aegon the Younger himself, looking just about ready to toss his goblet at him. 

The atmosphere from her brothers hadn’t been much better. Sitting between Jaehaerys and Aegon the Younger, Viserys had felt a proper wall of separation. The man beside him may have known he needed to keep quiet if he wanted to get his damned Keep, but he had been looking at his brother with intense scrutiny for days now.

Little Maelor on the other hand had the gall to laugh while remaining within his mask of an innocent lamb. And when he next does, it is at the same time Viserys wishes to sink into his chair and disappear into it from embarrassment. 

Some golden-haired man had invited Jaehaera to a dance. Not an unexpected occurrence; dancing does happen in feasts. But while his brother had attempted to busy himself with playing with his food like a child, he lifted his head again when the dance ended - only to see said man holding onto Jaehaera’s gem earrings while speaking to her in proximity that is questionable — and there, his brother had to stand. Literally.

Jaehaera looked towards Aegon in the eye then, as everyone else did, but within capturing her gaze, his mouth had become voiceless despite it being opened ajar.

And he stood there uncomfortably, unable to even cuss the man whose offense he stood up against to begin with. As if he’s going to make a fucking toast, or something. I cannot believe this. Baela had told him and Jace alike that she thinks they may be ought to bind their brother to some post to prevent him from acting up. Jace, kind crown-prince he is, completely dismissed it, but now looking at him, he thinks he too just realized their sister had been right. 

Meanwhile mother looked properly frazzled herself, sharing a look with his father that had been so pointed, even King Consort Daemon himself realized he had to give a damn. “Continue the music,” his mother had told the musicians not far away from them, while father had gestured to Aegon to come his way, and now.

Whatever point words their father had decided to rebuke Aegon with, his brother had received them with properly flushed cheeks, should it be from the embarrassment, or the drinking, of whatever blood that didn’t manage to make it to his brain.

Aegon had soon left the table for the grand floor, finding himself some girl to dance with instead. A daughter of one of their loyal courtiers, he believes. Viserys releases a sigh of relief when he sees that. Perhaps now his blood pressure can calm. 

His cousin — Jaehaerys, that is — seems to release a lousy scoff. 

Viserys turns to him with a frown. “You have something to say?” 

Viserys will admit; he is defensive of his brother, as foolish as he may have acted these days. He would not hear giggles or scoffs at him. Jaehaerys, on his part, is unfazed, staring yet still on the floor, and at the dance that has partners swapping left and right. 

“There is little to say in this situation, no?” Jaehaerys answers. “Even little that can be done, or prevented, don’t you agree?”

Viserys doesn’t bother acting the fool, but his cousin better not either. “On your side, mayhaps,” he answers. “Your sister will lose you your Keep if this continues, you know this?” 

Jaehaerys eyes grow daggered, and he lowers his voice. “There isn’t going to be any damn Keep given from your parents, even if my own ones’ grovel,” he says cutthroat. Viserys stares at him. He knows well enough, huh? “Don’t assume me stupid. Nor should you assume my sister stupid. This had been a losing game since arrival, for the lot of my family… but she’ll cut her losses even in the most futile of dances.” 

When Viserys looks back at the dance floor, their siblings are dancing together. Viserys licks his lips. There is something there that can’t be prevented, perhaps, but also something that won’t quite be approved by all of their parents. What would it do, in the long run? Nothing. 

“And throwing herself at my brother would be cutting her losses?” he asks back, more sincere than he even planned on sounding. He even tries to pick his words carefully. “It would not do her good either, to end up seeming a… seductress.” 

Jaehaerys tsks. “No need to dance around it. I’ll say it as it is, fully and wholly — she has no plans on being your brother’s whore,” he brings a hand forward; the one with six fingers, and lays above the back of Viserys’s hand on the table. His fingers fill the spaces between his, the little extra pinky standing up purposefully. Viserys freezes for a moment, and nearly takes his hand back when Jaehaerys opens his mouth again. “It only takes one extra step to make honey from enticing, to trapping.” 

The extra finger curls against Viserys’s palm as Jaehaerys intertwined their fingers, squeezing lightly with a smile. Viserys swallows and only manages to remember to snatch away his hand when Jaehaerys’s chuckle comes along with the brush of his thumb against the side of his palm. 

What the fuck. He rises himself from his chair, needing some damn distance. Whatever the fuck his cousins have in mind, they live in their own world, as do their father and their mother. 

By the time he manages to absolve himself from the almost scorching feeling of Jaehaerys’s hand on his, the feast is over, and they all go their own ways, Viserys himself remaining rushing to his room.

The morning after, when he sees Jaehaerys’s face again, he has a look in his eye that is ever-knowing. And for a moment, he thinks in mortification it is all about him — but it is not.  It is only then, that he starts understanding what her brother truly meant the night prior.

Jaehaera is standing by her twin, smiling absentmindedly and fiddling with a ruby ring on her bony thumb, and his brother, his dear, foolish brother, stares at her with his bare fingers and doting eyes, ready only to give more.

[mawlaeina]

BIRTHDAYS | SAGAU Childe

🍊 content: SAGAU! Childe x Reader

✦ content w: none! it’s fluff sorta

July 20.

It was the day that you looked forward the most every year.

Back then, July 20 was just the same as any other day for you—maybe another boring day of school, another day of work, or maybe even a local holiday. Whatever it was, it bored you (—unless it’s also your birthdate, I’m sorry).

That was the case until he came out.

He piqued your interest, even his story quest made you invested in him—more than you expected. You wished on his banner, joking about how you’ll get him first pull.

Your jaw drops—you got him at first pull.

You stared at the screen in disbelief—eyes glued, and jaw parted in awe as Childe came home in all his ginger glory. Eventually, you farmed enough resources so that you could main him through and through.

Moving forward to the present, you see a few tiktoks showing that other users had little to no crit rate for their damage showcases. However, that wasn’t the case for you.

Childe would always crit when you used him, especially when you played co-op with friends. Oh, how you loved it. In a way, it made you feel a bit special—though you later thought that you were just being delusional.

Then the clock struck 12am, a quick notification coming from your calendar saying that it was now July 20. You got out of bed, excitedly making your way to the kitchen with a smile as you hold a few sheets of paper and a pen in hand.

You take out a small cake from the fridge—decorated with orange frosting and a blue narwhal shaped decoration sitting at the top.

Some oranges from the nearby fruit bowl for good luck and prosperity.

A bottle of vodka and a shotglass—because you think Childe likes alcohol like a typical russian.

The mini speaker from one of the shelves so that you could play ed sheeran songs.

And lastly, his newly posted birthday art that you printed in high resolution just a few moments ago after it was posted on Genshin’s socials.

Now everything was complete. You place everything into position, lights dimmed as you used candles—the scented ones that smelled like the ocean.

It was your 4th time celebrating his birthday now, and you did this little celebration annually since his release, as if it were some kind of ritual.

Sure, it wasn’t anything too fancy, like the ones you see on social media where they fill the table to the brim for Childe’s birthday. But you were doing this out of pure love for Childe.

You set the pen and papers aside as you began to sing him a happy birthday song. You laugh awkwardly since you celebrated alone, and it wasn’t even your birthday. This was why your friends called you delusional, but you didn’t mind it—not when it made you happy, and how it was a way you could express the love you have to offer for Childe.

Now midnight had long passed, and ed sheeran was playing over the speaker. The cake had been eaten in half, an orange 3/4th finished, and the vodka nearly half. You cursed yourself for continuing to take shots earlier despite having such low alcohol tolerance.

Yet that didn’t stop you from finishing the last act of celebrating Childe’s birthday—his birthday letter.

You sat at the counter, head rested on one of your hands as your elbow sat shakily on the counter. Your other hand was busy scribbling lazily on the paper—handwriting coming off as an imitation of cursive, but it was readable still.

There were about two or more letters that you had already finished, and now you were writing another one as Photograph began to play on the speaker.

You wrote, and wrote, and wrote.

Expressing your heart out in sweetness, bitterness, and affection, all directed towards Childe alone. You wrote about your days and experiences after the last celebration of his birthday—you were writing to him as if he were real.

You finished the last letter, ending it with your signature. You sighed before chuckling sadly, knowing that the letters won’t reach him—and if they do, you knew he might not acknowledge them.

You were lovesick for someone who wasn’t real, someone who doesn’t share the same skies as you do.

On the other hand, inside one of the homes of Snezhnaya. Childe is woken up on his birthday by Teucer, who shakes him in excitement, reminding him that it was his birthday today. Childe smiled at his younger brother, ruffling his hair as he says that he’ll come down in five minutes to celebrate his birthday with his family—he needed some sleep, he had just returned home after a fatui mission after all.

Teucer agrees and exits Childe’s room, and finally the ginger makes a move. He sits up and stretches lightly, ruffling his hair a bit as he lightly pinches the bridge of his nose. He makes it a mental note to keep the promise he made with Teucer to go ice fishing the other day.

He sighs before he glances at his pillow. He wonders if there would be letters today as well since it was his birthday.

Ever since he started to receive letters under his pillow from his 21st birthday (2021) from an unknown person, he began to receive them annually. The number of letters always gradually increasingly, and always coming from the same person.

He remembered that he tried to track the sender of the letter down, only to come to a dead end every time. Eventually, he just found himself looking forward to receiving them, ocassionally reading them from time to time during his breaks.

Maybe it came from you? The one from across the screen?

He sees you, yet he can’t seem to communicate with you. He hears you as well, and he can’t help but recall the sounds you make when you have your little victories with him after boss fights.

He initially gave it some thought, and later came to a conclusion that maybe it did come from you—since you rarely ever come online when it’s his birthday, but when you do it’s usually at the last remaining hours of the day.

He slides a hand under the pillow, almost immediately feeling what seemed to be like three or five sets of letters. He chuckled quietly to himself as he took them out, revealing an actual number of 6 letters.

He reads them one by one, laughing a bit every now and then from the jokes you made, confused at some of the ‘references’ that you made—who was ed sheeran?

Then, there’s the part where you wrote down about how you felt towards him. His smiles fade into a poker face as he reads them with an unreadable expression—he’s unsure of what he’s supposed to feel.

He doesn’t think that he shares the same feelings that you had for him, at least, that’s what he believes. All that he knows is that you’re worlds different from him—existentially speaking. So, he’s never thought about it in the first place.

He’s thought of you as a comrade more than anything else.

Yet the letters he receives from you never fails to include such feelings—the same love and affection directed towards him, all written differently over the years.

“Ajax!” He heard his mother call him from downstairs, it seemed like they were growing a bit impatient. He looked at the clock on the wall, finally realizing it had been more than 5 minutes as he’d been busy reading your letters.

“Coming!” He responds plainly before he lets out a small yawn.

He stands up from the bed and leaves it in its messy glory as he approached a wooden box that sat idly on the nearby shelf.

He opens the box, revealing all the other letters that he received from you since his 21st birthday. He stores the newly received letters on top of the others, stacking them neatly so that it doesn’t look as messy as his bed.

There were now 15 letters in the box, and in his mind he was still counting.

He closes the lid as he took out a shirt from the closet, putting it on before he exits his room.

He somehow feels guilty, or rather he feels weirdly uneasy that he can’t return the favor nor your feelings. He silently hopes that you’d grow out of it, that it’ll pass in the end.

Yet a part of him also doesn’t want that to happen. He’s somehow conflicted.

He temporarily pauses in front of the window across his bedroom door. He looks up at the sky, fully knowing that celestia isn’t quite real—that it only existed in this confined world that he was living in.

He wished maybe the skies that you had in yours were brighter, fresher (and doesn’t lag).

Childe proceeded to walk away from the window and towards the stairs. A little smile plastered on his face as he comes down to greet his large family. He opens his arms as they swarm him with a loving hug.

He began to think.

Maybe it would be nice if you were here too.

✦ “delusional” oh you mean mentally unstable ^v^?

✦ childe it’s fine if you don’t love me back, i have enough love for the both of us TwT <3

✦ is it obvious that he’s my comfort character? what an odd guy, idk how he became my comfort character (i love him)

✦ he’s ed sheeran of Snezhnaya, change my mind

✦ i’m too emotionally invested in him, help

✦ btw that little ritual is personal experience, i do it every year for him and i’ll do it this year too :)

[gauntletgirlie]

Get to know your Mutuals

Thanks for the tag @perlen-gold, even though I’m just an unhinged follower obsessed with your writing 🙈 I started my own chain so your original post wouldn’t get too long.

What's the origin of your blog's title? My thirst for Adar and the gauntlet kink he inspired.

Favorite Fandoms: I have a lot, but The Silmarillion/The Lord of the Rings/The Rings of Power are my main ones I always fall back on.

OTP(s) + shipname: I’m a self shipper so me + whomever I’m obsessed with (currently Melkor, Adar, and Gil-galad) but also more recently:

Melkor x Mairon (Angbang)

Adar x Celebrimbor (Silverscars)

Favorite color: Orange (also partial to purple and dark green).

Favorite game: Hero Quest (I’m not a console gamer. Though I did enjoy watching my husband play Horizon Zero Dawn).

Song stuck in your head: Dog Days (Are Over) by Florence and The Machine.

Weirdest habit/trait? Oh boy, where to begin… I make random noises, I meep like Beaker to songs, laugh at my own jokes… I’m just a weird person altogether folks.

Hobbies: Writing, visiting places of historical interest, I also used to be an avid reader but then motherhood robbed me of my energy and concentration. I listen to audiobooks more now.

If you work, what's your profession? I write scientific reports and run data tables for an Early Drug Development CRO, which is as fun as it sounds. I’m also a mother. Everything you’ve heard about motherhood is true and also a lie.

If you could have any job you wish what would it be? I would be rich enough not to need to work 🤷🏻‍♀️ or working on a petting farm would be cute.

Something you're good at: Berating myself. Encouraging others/being a cheerleader. Also writing, I hope 🙈

Something you're bad at: Most things, but especially anything requiring mathematics or physical exercise.

Something you excel at: Being a silly goose 😏thirsting over fictional characters 🙈 and raging at injustices. Erm, I think that’s about it. How tragic for me 😂

Something you love: The community I’ve found here on Tumblr 🫶🏼 period dramas, Dracula, and tattoos (I have none of my own… yet).

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Mormonism, The Wars of the Roses, the people I love.

Something you hate: Injustice, mayonnaise, and corsets improperly portrayed in period drama.

Something you collect: Cuddly toy bats, and more characters to thirst over (I need help).

Something you forget: That motherhood is difficult so to give myself more grace.

What's your love language? I don’t adhere to love languages, but I guess genuine connection over similar interests, banter/in-jokes.

Favorite movie/show: Aaahhh don’t make me choose! It’s always changing.

Favorite food: Galaxy Cookie Crumble, Mini Eggs, Yorkshire puddings, and pizza.

Favorite animal: Bats 🦇

Are you musical? I can hold a tune and I played flute as a kid, otherwise sadly no.

What were you like as a child? Intelligent, saw everything in black and white, more artistic, more outgoing.

Favorite subject at school? History and art.

Least favorite subject? Maths and PE.

What's your best character trait? I like to think I’m kind and understanding.

What's your worst character trait? I can be so incredibly lazy.

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? More sleep. Always more sleep.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? Bram Stoker. I’d also love to meet my mum as a young woman, I think we would have had fun.

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

Come by @perlen-gold (Angbang)

Of Convenience by @greenleaf4stuff (Silverscars)

Last but not least, show your favorite fanart of your favorite character(s) (please remember to credit/add links!):

Melkor/Morgoth

Adar

Gil-Galad (TROP)

No pressure tags for @greenleaf4stuff, @valar-did-me-wrong, @strifes13, @wowstrawberrycow, @iwanderbecauseimlost, @withallthatisleftofmyheart, @calmlyy-chaotiic, @margauxmara, @varda-starqueen, @saffronstories, @gingeragenda, @gracefallingart, @dwarveslikeshinythings, @whenimaunicorn, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 and anyone else who would like to play! Sorry if I missed anyone.

[demaparbat-hp]

First, omg YOUR ZUTARA ART! It's so so beautiful I want to weep.

Do you have any Zutara fic recs? I need some more Zutara in my life lol

Hi! That's so sweet, thank you ❤️

Most of my free time is spent reading, but I almost never save the links...and can never seem to remember the names and/or authors of the fics.

Luckily I saved the links for some of my absolute favorite fics! There are a lot of truly breathtaking works out there and, sadly, I can't mention them all. These are some names in a very long list of favorites. I hope you enjoy them ❤️

Vermillion Seas, Cardinal Skies by @geothewriter

New directions and re-imagined canon events race toward a different endgame. From lighting bending to bloodbending and deal-making in the Spirit World, this canon-divergent/adjacent AU travels a new road, where unforeseen experiences shape who our heroes are, and who they will become. A Zutara slowburn.

Forgetting is a kind of mercy by @nerdylizj

It's death by a thousand cuts, Katara thinks. Saying goodbye to their old lives, forging ahead with whatever amalgamation of reality once they both fully remember everything, whatever reality that may be. Yet, two tethers between them will remain. Or, Five years after Katara and Zuko go missing in Ba Sing Se, Kya and Lee are found living peacefully in the Earth Kingdom countryside.

Eight Years Later by @starlight-tea-writing

Eight years after Sozin’s Comet, everyone’s lives have begun to take shape, their responsibilities pulling them further and further apart. The last three years have been broken up with infrequent and hurried meetings and get togethers, but by happenstance, things play out a little differently for the eighth anniversary of the End of War. Follow what happens in the year after all of Team Avatar gets together again and the found family re-finds each other and grows even larger. Zutara centric, Sukka, Toph/OC, Aang/OC Irregular updates, Saturdays only.

The White Lotus Zuko series by @calcliffbas

Zuko becomes one of the good guys a little earlier than usual, and joins Aang, Sokka and Katara in Omashu. A canon-adjacent series featuring friendship, humor, and romance.

The Spirit Trap by @leradny

In the Southern Water Tribe, Hakoda teaches his second son Katara to channel the grief over the death of his mother in a healthy way. In the Fire Nation Capital, Ozai tries to betroth his eldest daughter Princess Zuko to Iroh's son, and Ursa has to explain why that's not a good idea. [AU: Switched Genders, but just for Zuko and Katara]

Everything I Am by we-were-angels(untilwefallinlove)

There is something inevitable about them; like the certainty of the sun in the morning and the moon and all her stars at night. After all is said in done, how will history tell their stories? (Set after the One Hundred Year War and the years following.)

[temis-de-leon]

Please make sure to take care of yourself 🥺 Write whenever you feel like it and when you have the time but don't force yourself to write 😤 - Romance Anon

Crush hugging him because of a horror movie - 500 F.C.

Characters: Diavolo x gn!reader

Main Masterlist

500 followers masterlist

Requested by: Romance anon

A/N: Toni Colette, the woman that you are. And thank you Romance, for your never-ending patience <3

C/W: a bit suggestive there at the beginning, pinning, very vague description of Hereditary's ending

.

He would be lying if he said having you so close to him, practically sitting on his lap, while moaning a myriad of ‘oh my God’, ‘please, God’ and, his personal favourite, ‘Dia, Dia, Dia…!’ wasn’t affecting him in the slightest. It was, and heavily; he just wished it took place under different circumstances.

Mainly because he was low-key freaking out too, although not as much as you.

Having seen a fair number of sinners, he knew some mortal minds weren’t simple or kind, which made the darkness of life and the suffering of others a rather pleasurable affair for them. It was fascinating, apparently, a broadly studied aspect of human society, and not just one of many media genres, that propelled the pharmaceutical and therapeutic intervention businesses; a cause and a consequence, something that should’ve been avoided or couldn’t have been helped.

And yet, out of all horrors, you chose a demonic possession movie? Were you trying to tease him?

Paimon wasn’t even that bad once you got the chance to meet him properly! He was an erudite whose knowledge covered all the arts, philosophy and science. A friend of Lucifer’s, keen on reciprocity foremost and eager to start a conversation with anyone who offered him the same amount of time and interest as he did. Unfortunately, Diavolo had the tiny suspicion you wouldn’t be in the mood to meet the captivating demon, nor his demanding dromedary, after watching the disturbing movie, but you should really give it a try!

He could still understand you, though.

“Oh, dear” he said in a quiet breath as the boy on the screen slowly turned around and miraculously missed his mother crawling on the walls.

Your eyes, which had been previously peeking between your fingers, closed shut. You turned to press your face against his chest again and he deeply hoped your fear kept you from noticing the rapid beating of his heart and the way his hand closed around your waist to bring you closer. His cheeks burned, not bothering to hide an enamoured smile. There was no use in doing so when you were trying so hard to disappear from the world amongst the creases of his uniform.

Still, you had asked him to watch the film together and he would be more than damned if he disappointed you in such a trivial matter, so he forced himself to look at the screen intensely, even when a naked man loomed from the shadows and the boy had to run away for his life, tripping and falling and barely climbing to the attic on time.

“I have to say, MC” he mustered, eyes open wide as the woman (Annie?) violently banged her head against the trap door while Peter cried in desperation from the other side. “I can’t understand the appeal of watching this. When you said you wanted a movie night, I thought you’d choose something… tamer”

More romantic is what he wanted to say. Diavolo had hoped to understand love from a human standpoint and see what you liked in order to do the same. Rose petals and champagne by the fireplace? Or shopping and dining in the most expensive places in the Devildom? Dancing in the rain? Stargazing? As observant as he was, he had no clue whether you reciprocated his infatuation, so, sadly, he preferred having your full attention on him whenever he showed his feelings; and at that moment not even an emergency would’ve made you let go of his embrace. It's not like he would ever complain about that, anyway.

“I didn’t want to watch the movie alone” you finally whimpered, letting go only enough to look up at him. “And I figured if someone could make me feel protected it would be you”

Your glassy eyes vaguely reflected his speechless expression and, suddenly, he was aware of everything. The weight of your body against his, bringing warmth and comfort, the smell of your clothes and the softness of your skin; your scared pouting and embarrassed blushing. Not knowing what to do with it anymore, he let his free hand awkwardly drop over your calves and immediately almost imploded when you instinctively tucked even closer.

There was no noise for a blissful moment, save for the heavy breathing and the buzzing coming from the speakers, and Diavolo briefly asked himself if a horror movie was still a good background for a love confession.

Then, a wet sound; a sawing motion.

You slowly turned to the gigantic TV, impending doom in your expression quickly morphing into heavy distress when the mother appeared once more on the screen. Your appalled scream almost made him cover his ears before you hid your face in his chest one final time.

“OH MY GOD, DIA, OH MY GOD”

Diavolo just hoped Barbatos wouldn’t ask any questions in the morning.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[pitchouna]

Meeting Goku x reader headcanons!!

(It's an AU where Chi-chi doesn't meet Goku because I love my girl and I simply hate angst.)

May be ooc since it's my first time writing </3 but overall it's just Fluff!!

Haven't checked for any spelling mistakes I'm too lazy.

Okay so I've recently became a Goku simp and Dragon Ball lover, and I've noticed there's little to no works about him. Which surprised me with how popular the DB series are. Anyways we'll talk about this another time let's begin!!

1k

To Begin, you and Goku met during the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament where you both fought.

Even though you were beaten easily, Goku was amazed to find a strong woman for the first time. He immediately fell in love. (he's too dumb to figure it out and needed Krillin's help.)

Which lead him to ask to train and spar together when you'd both be free. So like everyday.

But of course it wasn't enough interaction for our lovely saiyan so Krillin's helped his best bud having dates ideas such as going to the beach together, going on restaurants (sadly you're the one paying

You two even nap together!!

As you guys may know, this man has got no experience about what personal space means.

So don't be surprised if you get trapped in a hug randomly if you guys nap together!!

No matter how far your beds are he'll randomly find a way to stick with you.

Of course there are some days where Goku may piss you off..

For exemple, when he asks too many dumb questions that your brain just want to disconnect.

Or when you simply don't want to train yet Goku doesn't understand why since training is literally all his life so he could be overwhelming without knowing it.

So you see theses excuses we use when we're too lazy to go out with friends? That was your first thought.

You'll sick to not train since it's the only way to escape training you found yet.

With how dumb he is, you could easily avoid the senzu beans solution.

Unless someone reminds him about it... ( Either it's Krillin, Yamcha etc... )

When learning who told him about it you'll always have a grudge against them.

You'll always be able to count on Bulma though!! Since she knows how men could be such a pain.

Y'all are besties forever and goes shopping at least once in the month (She's such a generous BFF she'll pay for everything)

You both always gossip.

However, Goku hates the days when you go hang out with Bulma.

He's just so bored.. Even if he can train, nap and eat as much as he'd like which is supposed to be his favourite hobbies it won't help..

He just has the need urge to see you!!

So sometimes, when he knows where you and Bulma hangs out, he'll randomly pop up out of nowhere with the Nimbus cloud.

Disappointed, Bulma still gets the message and sometimes will leave you two alone.

"Huh leaving already Bulma? You usually stay longer!" You exclaimed confused as why she was packing up so early.

"Sorry n/n! I just remembered I have a special meeting with some scientists!! Here's the money to pay for the addition. See ya!!" Bulma said in a rush as she left too much money on the table.

"Hold on Bulma you-" You were about to yell so she could take the money back before Goku interrupted you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"It's too late Y/n she's already gone now! Why don't you accept the money?" Goku said with his usual innocent which made you sigh in disbelief. Yet you didn't felt like scolding him right now you were too tired.

"I hope you don't want us to spar or train right now.. I'm too lazy." You mumbled with an irritated voice not wanting to deal with that right now.

"Heheee.. I just wanted to see you!!" Goku chuckled with his usual goofy smile that you started to like so much (But you didn't wanted to admit it yet...)

"You interrupted me and Bulma for that?.."

"But she has to go anyways!!"

"... Fair point."

Too lazy to argue further you just decided to let him win only this time. Since it was very late and you are the laziest person ever.

"Oh!" You heard Goku yell and wondered what that was about.

"Hm? What's up?" You asked him wanting to know what's on his mind.

"How about I take you on a ride home on the Nimbus? We'll get to watch the stars together!!" Goku said patting the Yellow cloud beside him.

"I guess I wouldn't mind..." You said as a small smile appears on your face.

Knowing that only pure-hearted people can go on it you decided to put a hand on the Nimbus and not to your surprise it went through it. Goku seemed very surprised though.

"How? You're one of the kindest person I know!!" Goku frowned wondering why that didn't work but you just chuckled at how innocent and cute dumb he was.

"That's not how it works Goku.."

"How does it works then?"

"I'll explain you another day. I'm too lazy right now... But what do we do now??

After your question, Goku put a hand on his chin thinking about a solution. He found it faster that what you were expecting.

" What about you get on my lap?" Goku said smilling innocently which made you blush.

"Why are you all red so suddenly Y/n??" You just brush it off not wanting to break his innocence of the poor guy.

"Just forget it alright? I'll go on your lap."

Goku chuckles in happiness hearing this. He wasted no time sitting on the Nimbus cloud and putting you on his lap.

He also took the opportunity to place his chin on your head. Which made you blush a little.

"Ready Y/n ?" Goku said Holding your waist. Too lazy as always you just nodded with a hum.

The Nimbus started to make it's way towards your home, as you took the opportunity to watch the beauty of the sky.

Goku smiled at your amazement, he found you so cute.

" Like what you're seeing Y/n?" Goku asked, his happiness obvious in his voice.

However, he heard nothing.

"Y/n ??" Goku asked looking at you just to find you asleep.

Oh well... He was already happy having you in his arms

He made a big detour to enjoy this moment even if you were sleeping.

Oh my god this took much longer than expected... The way I decided to randomly write headcanons out of nowhere instead of finishing my homeworks is wild. I hope y'all will like this!! If not I'll probably kms but it was very fun to write though!!

Will maybe do that another time if I don't forget this account 😭😭

Take care <33

[mizaryrottmnt]

New Oc for the fandom ~

Her name is Tsune

Small Backstory:

Tsune a young Japanese woman in her 20s, at the end of the film. She is a Kunoichi.

Throughout her childhood, she is trained by martial arts experts of all types. Making her a ninja in a few years and one of the best in her country.

At 15, she had to leave with her family for America for "work". She does not know that her family is in fact a criminal organization that fled Japan because their actions became too visible. And also that their cover is compromised.

For a few months, she will act in New York on behalf of her family and their criminal empire, without realizing what she is doing because her naivety and her family hide things from her quite well. She will meet the turtles a few times who will succeed in thwarting her missions. She will enjoy meeting them because the fight is more interesting against them.

But one day when everything went wrong, she was seriously injured and to avoid the death (the loss of an important element) of the young woman, she was injected with a little Emperyon, making her faster, stronger and other surprises that she is not yet aware of. She is lucky that her body was not more altered by the product. But what she knows after that is that her family, her clan, never really saw her as their member but more their tool, a weapon.

That is why she fled her clan, a little before Big Mama's big game. She saw the turtles fight against her and her champion and is therefore aware of the Hidden City and everything else at that time. And will be touched by their desire to save everyone.

Once New York was freed, and Shredder defeated, she opened a business, a bookstore. But running a business is rather expensive, so during the day she works in her business and at night as a mercenary. She just avoids getting into her family's business and changed her last name for more discretion.

Her first real encounter with the turtles will be during a mission against the Foot clan, then one evening in the street while she was walking near the "Run the Mill". She was going to get robbed when Leo arrived a little by surprise and saved her, a pizza box under his arm.

A little captivated by her lack of fear and her calm in front of him, he will be intrigued by her after that and then little by little will want to know her and therefore talk to her. For that, he must go unnoticed so he will meet her in human form the second time and will try to meet her in her store. Clumsy as he is, it will be a fiasco but will tear a chuckle from Tsune.

Open and calm, she will accept this boastful customer and they will talk more and more over time. But always with a thin wall that she keeps because of her life, her secrets, her lack of confidence that Leo will always feel and that will make him even more curious.

During the film, like Cassandra, she will fight and defend the city as she can. She will be injured but will not show it, she will be more worried about her friend that she will not see again right away and will sadly think that he did not survive until Leo comes back to see her, his arm in a sling and still with scratches (in human form) She will offer him the biggest hug for the first time between them and, for fear of losing this friend, she will try to open up to him more.

What she just doesn't know is that during the invasion, her family found her and we don't know what they will want to do now that they know where she is.

(I know it's not a good read and write poorly but I was just feeling strange while writing it, I'm sorry.)

[st3llast4rl1ght]

(making this for fun!)

.⊹ ࣪ ˖ ~ My Favorite Rcp Idol or Fandoms ~ .⊹ ࣪

. .┊﹒𐐪 @lunar-rcp - i love her writing and all her Headcanon about rcp! She's really a talent Rcp fandom plus she is so sweet the way she talk <3! Lunar also good at making stories or Au's! I love them all!

. .┊ ⧣₊˚ @polina-tvorozhok - Man.. i am so interested in her beautiful art and sketch, Polina and Lunar is the best duo! I like theirs good stories! Polina also the sweetest, remind me of like a mother the way she speak <3!

. .┊✧･. @darkoplayzzz - And darko, i like to be friend with her! Hehe, i love her own Poli Au that she created! Darko also talented in art! I wish i could make an art collab with her!

. .┊⊹ ࣪ ˖ @rhunsui - This dude! I like to be friend with him too >:)! He is so silly and funny at the same time! Man obsessed with the triple crane, also yes, The creator also say he is the true fan of Rcp!

. .┊⋆𖦹. @anakerasuci - Gurl.. Im loved in your arts and being your closest friend! Ana is talented at art and animating! Sadly she didn't know how to shade yet T^T! Anyway let's just say she is the lovely Rcp artists and her beautiful, creative Oc's!

. .┊✧･. @annintheclouds - This one! Yeah! I remember that my one animation about Helly and Poli is inspired by her! She give me idea! I like the way she created her Au! Love them much! And the way she draw Rcp citizens! I like that she good at making stories too <3!

. .┊ ⧣₊˚ @kidshowsarecool - And jp, oh yeah, she is so lucky that have to meet with Roy' s VA, gosh i wish i could see them too! Especially Poli. And, Jp is the best person of Rcp! She also knows a lot about Roy! Example like Roy' s Headcanon!

. .┊﹒𐐪 @bridgemino - Bridge! I love to be a friend with her! She's so cool at making stories about Rcp! I'd love and interested to read them all, very talented! <3

. .┊⋆𖦹. @stupidloafofbread - bread! >:}, the one that also make one blog about rcp! Go find out! It cause have 2 helly now! Tee-hee! I like her Headcanon about helly!

. .┊⊹ ࣪ ˖ @stargirlie-sharon - Her, yes! She's the one who created Amber blog! Also, i love her creative and beautiful banner. She knows well how to writing and making stories! I love her sm! She's sweet!

. .┊✧･. @karolina-blok - Karolina! Its her! I've seen a lot of Rcp human!! Love her beautiful gorgeous art! Rcp as human is another level, cant wait to see more of her art!

. .┊ ⧣₊˚ @weavingster - This guy! A cutie patotie art of side character of rcp! I love it because its just so... Cute! Damn, its the one who obsessed with Camp!

. .┊﹒𐐪 @takecare17 - This person is love to edit about Rcp! Even make an cover ai of rcp! Im also interested in them! I like her beautiful edit, bro did a great job! An Rcp editor!

. .┊⋆𖦹. @s4uddy - you! Yes you! I realized you love to ship Roy × mark and Poli × Bucky, i do respect the ship! Plus your art is beautiful and pretty! I saw them everywhere!

. .┊﹒𐐪 @

(there's more i think, but i forgot, so.. maybe i change this pretty slowly~)

[fortunekookie07]

Before you start reading this one, I'd just like you to know that Chryssikyu is 100% responsible for this one. All it took was one thought and I had to write something. Also I'm not capable of writing smut, it's beyond my capabilities. This is as far as I can go. So sorry. Without further ado I present to you

Call Me

You huff looking down at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time that day. Rafayel has once again ignored your phone calls. Answered text messages? Keep dreaming!

This is the same man who got super pissy and dramatic when you didn't answer his call right away. It was always something like, "I guess I'm not important enough for you to take my calls." Or something of the like. Yet somehow, you managed to find his dramatic pouty self adorable.

Today, though? Not so much, you were sorely tempted to let a cat lose in his studio for not taking your calls all afternoon. He'd know it was you, though. You were the only one he'd admitted to of his extreme dislike (read fear) of the furry creature. Revenge would be had. Thus, you just didn't have the heart.

After another hour and still no response, you decided to pay him a visit. So you take the twenty minute trip over to his private art studio/home.

Walking up the path, you see nothing out of the ordinary, the same plants and pathway as always. Just as you reach the door, you hear music. You pause, Rafayel certainly liked music. He'd recommend some artists to you before. It's just that he'd never played any in his studio before. It was usually quiet. That was how he preferred it.

Hesitantly, you turn the knob slowly and carefully so as not to make a sound. Thank god Rafayel had regular maintenance done on his doors. They never squeaked or creaked. He detested that sound.

You remove your shoes and leave them in the doorway. Something just telling you not to make any sounds. Carefully searching the downstairs studio reveals that he's not here, but the further you venture in the louder, the music is.

You realize you hear two voices, one coming from a female and the other, definitely male. You freeze, oh my god, is Rafayel singing?!? The male voice is amazing. You've never heard anything like it, so you keep going almost as if his voice is luring you in.

At the top of the stairs, the living room is situated, a wide space. Rafayel had personally designed the room, and it reflected him greatly. The huge wall to the back was his own painting of the sea. One of his greatest works. Sadly, not many would ever see it. He rarely had company over, and even fewer of them were invited up to his living quarters upstairs. You were one of two people to be given that privilege.

This wasn't the most amazing thing, though. There, in front of the large sofa, was Rafayel singing and dancing using his paintbrush as a microphone. He was completely oblivious to your presence.

You quickly took out your phone and snapped a few photos before recording. The song ended then, and he turned around, seeing you holding your phone and trying not to laugh.

His ears instantly went red as a scarlet blush bloomed across his face. "How long have you been standing there? It's rude not to announce your presence." He partially covered his face, his eyes darting away. Then he saw that you were holding your phone camera pointed at him. "Are, are you recoding me?!?!?" He asked Incredulously his blush, deepening as he made to grab your phone.

"Delete it!" He swiped for the sleek device, but you managed to dodge his frantic hands. "Nope! This is all mine now. " You wagged the phone in his face before stuffing it down your shirt. Rafayel would never be so bold to get it now. You poked his cheeks, and he swiped at you again.

"Do that again, and I'll spit bubbles at you." He said, rubbing his face and trying to hide his red face. "What have you been doing? I've been trying to call you all day." You put your hands on your hips and raise a brow.

"I was trying to get inspiration and then decided to listen to some music. You know the rest." He crossed his arms and turned away from you in a humph motion. Still embaressed at having been caught.

When you asked what song and he gave the title, you frowned. "That song is like twenty years old. Why are you listening to that?" You'd heard the song before, just not in a long time. "It came in the station I was listening to." He defended.

"Next time, don't ignore my calls. Did you forget you wanted me to go with you to buy supplies for your painting?" Rafayel's face brightened, and his eyes were almost twinkling. You thought you had him until realization hit him.

"Hand over your phone first. You took pictures. If they aren't perfect, I'll delete them." He held his hand out expectantly.

"Nope! These are all mine." You grinned at the pout on his face, certain he would not venture to get it. You were about to find out how wrong you were

He reached towards you going for your shirt. Swatting his hands away, you "No touchy!" He only grinned in response. "Oh, I'm going to touch alright." The wicked glint in his eyes sent your heart racing. "Rafayel!" You say in warning backing up. The only escape is the stairs behind you.

You turn to dash down them to another room below. We'll that was your intention anyways. Right behind you is that blue fish. You stop short. That was all the time he needed. His arms snake around, you pulling you into his firm chest and holding you tight.

One of his hands plays with the bottom of your shirt, his fingers tapping your bare stomach underneath. His head burries into your shoulder, and he whispers your name against the bare skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. A groan escapes your lips.

"I've got you now." He says, and you feel his grin before he is kissing your neck and making you squirm. You through your head back and sigh, leaving your mouth at his attention. His fingers are drawing patterns lightly on your stomach, and shivers shoot down your spine.

"This will end if you give me the phone." His voice is low and husky against your neck. "No-o." Your rebuttal is more of a moan at this point. Your brain is hazy as Rafayel starts on your buttons. The first one comes open with a pop, and his fingers are quick to trace more patterns on your stomach.

"Are you going to give me your phone?" He asks, nibbling on your ear. "Ahhhn," is all you manage to get out. The second button is popped, his fingers part your shirt, and the cool air makes you shiver against his heat. "How about now?" You manage to shake your head. The third button is undone. His fingers are just below your bra now. "Rafa...!" Your voice is breathless as he takes the last three buttons in one go.

His seeking fingers quickly pull your shirt open, exposing your chest and the stashed phone. "I'm taking it now." His voice is low and husky as he nips your ear again. His hands slide up your sides slowly. He's definitely teasing you now.

With your mind in a daze, you try to grab your phone, but his nimble fingers are faster. He grabs your wrist and then laces your fingers together. He kisses each of your fingers and the back of your hand before turning your head towards him and pinning you with a piercing stare.

Rafayel's blue-pink eyes are so heated and deep, you're about to fall in. Like you are looking at a quietly raging sea. He slowly leans in, dragging the moment out, and you let out an impatient whine. With your free hand, you wrap it around the back of his neck and draw him in closer. He brings your joined hands down lower, wrapping them around your waist and drawing you closer back. And then finally, finally, his lips press against yours.

You're so lost in his kiss that you don't even notice him delicately drawing your phone out of its hiding place in your bra and slipping it into his pants pocket. He lets go of your arm and then turns you around before hooking his hands around your knees and hoisting you up to his height. Your legs go around his waist, and then he's kissing you again as he walks to his bedroom.

****************************************************

As you lay in the bed with only a thin sheet covering you and Rafayel's arm for a pillow, you finally remember what started all this. "My phone! Rafayel, where is my phone?" He hums not fully paying attention. Just laying beside you with his eyes closed. You pink his arm as you sit up. "You stole my phone!" You can't even be mad at him. You fell for his distraction.

Sitting up, you look around the room for clothes. Spying his black pants, you leap off the bed and dash over to it. Sure enough, your phone is in his pocket. As fast as you can, you email a copy of the video you took and the pictures to yourself before looking at him triumphantly.

He's just sitting up resting an elbow on his knee, supporting his head with his hand, watching you. "Do you want a picture of me so badly?" He asks in a provoking tone. Deciding that you've had enough of his games, you walk over and grab his face with both hands. "I prefer the real thing." You say stealing a kiss before slipping away again.

"I've got to go now, I have a mission. I'll be gone for a few days. Don't forget to call me this time!" You hurriedly dress yourself and turn to leave the bedroom before he's grabbing your arm and pulling you back. "Come straight here when you're done." He says a serious look in his eyes. "I miss you when you're gone." You turn and hug him. "I'm just a phone call away." You kiss him again and then head out the door.

[satori-runa]

—Dear Mr.Serial Killer

Summary: You start investing time and money into a new hobby that might attract unwanted visitors in the future.

Words: 2,2k

Masterlist | Next |

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

000 - A pen

Bookstores had always felt like some sort of safe space, a place where time slowed down for a moment, and the world outside seemed to blur into a pile of insignificance. There was always a faint yet comforting aroma of fleshly printed paper that ligered in the air, blending seamlessly with the subtle, almost calming sound of pages turning under strangers hands. Perhaps those were one of many reasons why you always prefered to come into that sacred space after work instead of rushing straight home.

Truth to be told, beyond the towering rows of books, which were neadly tucked into their shelves, was another part of the store that you absolutely adored: A display of pens, notebooks and other office essentials that would catch your interest in a heartbeat. These small, practical treasures added a touch of excitement to your feelings whenever you stepped onto the soft carpet of the store. Among the items was a selection of ink pens that caught your eyes. They gleamed under the gentle spotlight as if they were pieces of a small art display, especially since their polished surfaces reflecting a quiet elegance that seemed to call out your name.

Your fingers traced the smooth, cool surface of one pen, its silver metal catching the light as it rested between your thumb and forefinger. It fit perfectly, as though made just for you.

Memories began to surface, soft and fleeting, of a time when pens like this had been part of your life-back when writing still held a sense of purpose and pride while you sat in school. Back then, each stroke of the pen made you feel special and at ease. Each refill, each small smudge of ink on your fingers or papers, was a mark of care.

But those days felt distant now. Over time, you had exchanged these beautiful writing tools for the convenience of cheap office pens, the kind that clattered in drawers and rolled off desks without a second thought. They were practical, forgettable, and completely devoid of the charm that once made writing feel special. After all, no one cared what kind of pen you used to jot down your name-unless you were someone who mattered. And you, sadly, were not.

You were just another office worker, lost in the endless loop of a routine that blurred the edges of one day into the next. Wake up, work, sleep, repeat. The cycle was unrelenting, leaving little room for change or joy. It weighed on you-a dull, persistent ache that you carried everywhere.

If you were to sit down and list everything that frustrated you about your life, you might need a pen like this one. Not because it was special, but because the list would be long. It's too long for an ordinary pen to endure. Each day felt like a quiet nudge, reminding you of your own inertia, your own inability to break free. Yet here you were, staring at an ink pen, imagining what it would feel like to write with purpose again.

It was a purchase of impulsive. The pen was already in your hand, you told yourself as you watched the cashier on the other side of the counter scan the small product. You definitely had the money to buy one, so why not indulge in the comforting things of life?

The cashier was about to call out the number you had to pay, but your voice quickly interrupted the man as you spotted the sky blue writing paper with those elegant matching envelopes on a shelf behind her Another purchase out of impulsive and perhaps the start of a new hobby: lettering.

The cashier turned around halfheartly, rips the package with the paper off the shelf, and slaps it on the counter next to the pen after scanning it.

It was an impulsive purchase. The pen was already in your hand, smooth and cool against your fingers, and you reasoned with yourself as you watched the cashier scan the small item. It wasn't expensive, and you definitely had the money for it. So why not? Life was dull enough as it was-surely you deserved to indulge in something simple and comforting.

The cashier was about to announce your total when something behind him caught your eye. A stack of sky-blue writing paper, paired with elegant matching envelopes, sat neatly on a shelf. The soft colour and delicate texture seemed to call out to you, stirring something quiet in your chest. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

»Wait-can I get those too?«

The cashier sighed softly, barely masking his boredom, and turned with little enthusiasm. He reached for the paper, carelessly ripping the package off the shelf, and slapped it onto the counter beside the pen before scanning it with a dull beep.

You barely noticed his indifference. Your attention was on the paper, imagining how it would feel beneath the tip of your new pen. Another impulsive buy, maybe, but this one felt... different. Perhaps this was more than a fleeting indulgence. Maybe it was the beginning of something new-a hobby, perhaps. Lettering. Writing. The idea nestled comfortably in your mind.

As the cashier finally called out the total, you reached for your wallet, unaware that this small decision-a pen, a set of paper-would be the first step into something far more dangerous than a simple hobby.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The very same pen, with its smooth metallic surface, was now rested idly atop the sky-blue writing paper as you returned to your bedroom. You set down a small mug-its colour uncannily matching the paper-on the desk before sinking into your comfortable chair. The night was still young, and the quiet thrill of writing something new was beginning to drown out the exhaustion from work that still lingered in your bones.

The atmosphere was perfect. A cool breeze slipped in through the slightly open window, rustling the edges of the paper. In the background, another episode of your favourite true crime podcast murmured softly, its familiar tone both unsettling and comforting. The room was dimly lit, with a small lamp casting a warm glow directly onto your newly acquired tools, as if they alone deserved the spotlight.

Truthfully, you had never written a letter before-not a real one, at least. Texts, emails, quick notes, sure. But this was different. The blank page seemed to invite you in, urging you to spill something meaningful onto it. Yet, staring at the paper, your mind felt strangely empty.

Who would you even write to?

The thought lingered, heavy and persistent. But slowly, almost without realizing it, your fingers curled around the pen. Maybe it didn't matter who the letter was for. Maybe it was about what you wanted to say.

Your fingers tightened around the pen, its weight grounding you as you stared at the untouched paper. The podcast continued to hum in the background, the host's voice weaving through details of an unsolved case-something about how killers often live unnoticed among ordinary people. But the words faded into a distant blur, overtaken by the steady drum of your own thoughts.

Maybe I'll just write to myself.

It felt a little silly at first, but the more you sat with the idea, the more it made sense. A letter to your future self-something honest, something real. You let the pen glide across the page, the ink flowing smoothly in thin, elegant lines.

Dear Future Me,

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. Maybe I'm bored, or maybe I just needed to hear myself think. Today was like every other day. Work was exhausting, as usual. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm stuck in this cycle forever-wake up, work, sleep, repeat. I can't remember the last time I did something for myself, something that actually mattered.

You paused, eyes flickering toward the window as the breeze stirred the curtains.

I guess that's why I bought this pen and this paper. Maybe it's a small act of rebellion against the routine. Or maybe I'm just lonely, and this feels less pathetic than talking to myself.

A dry laugh escaped you, though it sounded flat in the quiet room.

Do you still live in this apartment? God, I hope not. I hate how thin the walls are and how the hallway lights always flicker. And that neighbor-what's his name? The one who always stares but never says anything. I should move. I keep saying I will, but here I am.

Your handwriting tightened, becoming smaller as the words turned more vulnerable.

I wonder if you ever figured yourself out. Do you still let people walk all over you? Do you still stay quiet when you should speak up? I hope not. I hope you've grown a backbone. I hope you have friends that actually check in, not just when they need something.

The voice from the podcast droned on in the background, mentioning how certain killers kept journals, their private thoughts hidden in plain sight. You hesitated, the pen hovering for a moment.

I don't know why I'm even keeping this. Who else would read it?

Another pause. Then, slowly, you began writing again.

If anyone is reading this and it's not me... well, that's unsettling.

You laughed under your breath, but something cold rippled under your skin.

Anyway, this is stupid. But maybe, years from now, I'll find this and feel different. Maybe better. Or maybe I'll still be stuck, writing letters to no one.

-Me.

You leaned back, staring at the words. It was rawer than you expected, more personal than you intended. The pen slipped from your fingers and rolled across the desk.

In the background, the podcast host's tone had shifted-quieter, darker.

"...some killers choose their victims without even realizing it. A passing glance, an accidental meeting. A letter left behind. It's all it takes."

The breeze from the window chilled your skin. You glanced at the letter, sitting innocently on the desk. And for a moment, you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe someone was already reading over your shoulder.

Your eyes flicked toward the window, the breeze tugging softly at the edges of the paper. The pen sat still beside your finished letter, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

"...some killers choose their victims without even realizing it. A passing glance, an accidental meeting. A letter left behind. It's all it takes." You repeated quietly.

A letter left behind.

A quiet chuckle slipped from your lips.

»What a ridiculous thing to say.« You muttered, though the idea rooted itself in your mind.

A letter... left behind.

You smirked, fingers curling around the pen again. Why not? The night was still young, and the creeping exhaustion had given way to a strange, restless energy.

Dear Mr. Serial Killer,

The words felt absurd as you wrote them, but that only made it more amusing.

Or Mrs. I'm not here to judge. Equality for all, right?

You paused, tapping the pen against your chin, a slow grin spreading.

I imagine you're busy-what with all the murder and creeping around-but if you've somehow stumbled across this letter, congratulations! You've found the most boring person alive. Seriously, if you're looking for a challenge, you might want to try someone with an actual social life. I'm just a corporate cog in a very rusty machine. Not exactly the thrill you're probably after.

The pen scratched smoothly along the paper, your tone growing more playful.

But hey, maybe you're into the quiet ones. In that case, welcome! Here's a fun fact: my neighbour watches me through the peephole, and I'm 90% sure he's more of a threat than you. Maybe you two should network.

You snorted softly, shaking your head.

Anyway, I'm sure you're busy. If you are going to kill me, at least make it interesting. Leave behind a cryptic riddle or something. Go big or go home, right?

Yours in morbid curiosity,

your next victim~♡

You leaned back, laughing quietly at the absurdity of it. The paper looked ridiculous sitting there, ink still drying.

It was a joke, of course. It's just a stupid joke.

Still, a small part of you wondered what someone like that would think if they actually read it.

Another breeze slipped through the window, colder than before.

And far off, in the background, the podcast continued.

"...and sometimes, all it takes is a single letter to catch their attention."

Your smile faded just a little.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Heavy boots moved steadily through the empty streets, their sound swallowed by the faint patter of rain-thin and mist-like, clinging to the air like fog. The night was too dark to tell where the rain ended and the shadows began. The stranger pressed forward, hands buried deep in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his figure blending into the gloom.

His mind drifted, caught between the thought of sinking into the cold comfort of his bed and the unfinished tasks waiting for him before the next day bled in. He cursed himself in silence for his laziness, steps slowing ever so slightly-until something small and sharp enough to be noticed tapped against his head.

He stopped.

It wasn't painful, but it was enough to pull him from his thoughts.

A piece of paper.

No, a letter.

It drifted lazily to the wet pavement, the sky-blue colour stark against the dark, rain-slick ground. The colour alone caught his eye, soft and out of place in the cold night. He stooped down and plucked it from the concrete, the damp edges clinging to his fingertips.

His eyes lifted, slowly, carefully, scanning the buildings above.

And there it was.

A window, slightly ajar. Curtains stirring faintly in the breeze.

The stranger stared for a long moment, the letter cold in his hand.

And then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled.