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originally i’d voted no but tumblr will not let me change my vote HELP ME

i think this all falls to the technicalities. this situation is the same as if someone on tumblr posted about lasering their favourite idol on this date at this show, and it got reported to the police. i’m fairly certain this would get them arrested or at the very least be put under investigation?

similarly, i don’t think there’s anything wrong with fantasising about stuff online (as we all do). but it crosses the line and becomes very hard to justify when you go to a place with someone with a very detailed plan about how you’re going to hurt that someone. “oh i just happened to have this”???

HOWEVER. i do want to mention that i think it’s okay that he was talking about these things on a site meant for these fetishes (which i assume that’s what the site was, not creepy at all). i’m a yandere blog. when it comes to fiction, there’s no difference between wanting to kidnap and wanting to be kidnapping, if you catch my drift.

HOWEVER (2). the fact still stands that he was thinking of these things about his wife while they were assumedly living together. so yes it was very possible that she was in danger, and yes he deserved to be put in jail.

life sentence is kinda too much tho imo? the purpose of jail (in an ideal world) is punishment or reformation. he hadn’t done anything strictly wrong, so he should be in there for reformation. life sentence for reformation…? i mean i’m glad he’s doing well now (?)

I found out about this interesting but beyond creepy case and it really makes me wonder just where the line is drawn between fantasy and reality.

Back in the early to mid 2010s, a cop in New York City was on trial for basically fetishizing necrophilia. His wife had found out that he was using a creepy website to talk about his detailed fantasies on how he wanted to hurt and cook her, how he also wanted to do those things to the people that they knew in their real life. He was regularly chatting with several different men about this kink of his, they even made some plans on how they wanted to do it and when by making a Word document.

But here's the thing, never once did he act on these fantasies. He would set up a date on which he was supposed to kidnap a woman only to then never actually go through with it. He was also reportedly a very mellow man when you spoke to him and never showed any hostility to the opposite sex whatsoever.

I've seen the debate that he should be sentenced to prison in life simply because his fetish is too gruesome and I find myself agreeing with this statement. However, there were some people who defended him because all he technically did was talk bad online and never go through with any of his plans.

This is a free man now, he wrote several books and I even found his Instagram page, which looks surpassingly normal.

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Girl you know how a lot of people in the HSR fandom view Blade and Kafka as parents of the Stellaron Hunters (BLADE IS SO GIRL DAD)

i feel like that's the dynamic Sampo and his darling will have if his darling is a masked fool like him EXCEPT THAT YOUR CHILD OR EVEN CHILDREN ARE ..MASKED FOOLS 😭 Darling has to handle both Sampo and Sparkle I'M CRYING

YK that scene when Sampo asks Sparkle for his mask back, Sparkle just has to mention darling and man's running to gather with fool!darling again 💀

At least they're fun! To the rest of the masked fools yalls relationship with Sampo and Sparkle IS the fun

Pretty and tired mom (all masked fools slay ok) x her criminal husband who's himbo for her and tries to scam her lovingly + their chaotic daughter who bullies ppl for fun

HELLO!! OH MY GOODNESS HI!!!

'blade is so girl dad' was not on my list of things to see when i logged into tumblr after ages but I AGREE! he'd absolutely have a soft spot for his daughter and wear ribbons in his hair because she asked. and yes he would still look very cool doing it

if blade is girl dad maybe kafka is boy mum... holding her son upside down by the ankle and he can't stop laughing

NOOOOO i feel so bad for masked fool mother i would simply clock out - "NO KNIVES AT THE DINNER TABLE." "darling PLEASE put your bombs away before someone gets hurt"

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hello!

i know it's been a hot sec since i've been active, but i return to let you all know that you can find me here on ao3!!

i've already crossposted some stuff and i'll be combining works from my other blog - so don't be alarmed!

for those of you who haven't yet seen the news yet, you can check out the post here

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EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧  fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash. 

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong. 

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours. 

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward. 

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life. 

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

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HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!

i hope everyone's having a great 2025 so far!! (it's been like less than a week than it started help)

i know my activity has been spotty at best recently, and i'm really sorry to anyway who was waiting for posts from mine end D: still, thank you so much to every single one of who've stuck around with me into the new year!!

some updates on my end - i'm working on hit pause again, as well as a full fic for the fae au! (hint unseelie court hint) i might be re-releasing hit pause as a full fic as well, yes, smut and all :) and i've got a twst fic in the basement!

i expect updates to be slower for me this year, but hopefully it gives me time to write great stuff for you guys!! cloud out ;)

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scruffy lil cat

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Hey :)

Could you please write some Childe smut? 🤌

hi! i'm no longer take requests, but you can check out @vixensp1ce, they might be accepting ^^

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Hello! Just discovered your blog & I am in love with your writing 😍

May I please humbly request more yan!Adventurine & a sick reader? The short story you wrote about him & a reader with a fever was so cute 💛

thank you for your support lovey 🤍

i imagine aventurine has some sort of.. nesting instinct?? just the very raw urge to surround his darling with a million blankets and soft things and keep em safe and cosy. you being sick absolutely triggers this even more than usual, and now he has a good reason to look after you the way he does. you have no energy to protest, and who knows, you might even start appreciating him for it :D

aventurine probably makes a dumb excuse like "i need to be close to you to keep tabs on your temperature." it's hard to admit it, but it's nice to be able to snuggle with another's body warmth when you feel cold and you're shivering all the time.

birdven moment???

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Ayato and his equally smart darling living their best toxic lives

Til out of nowhere darling announces that she's getting married lmaooo

And darling being darling ofc has unpredictable or unconventional scandalous husband choices. Rich with status? Ofc. But maybe he has scandals? Old? Unattractive? All of that? Who knows. Just unconventional.

This time Ayato's not amused. Nuh uh. Not funny.

HELLO??? THIS IS ACTUALLY SO FOUL GOODBYE

"we're married." "...we are?" - actual conversation between ayato and darling

to him, this whole dance was basically his idea of courting his darling. after all, who else would be smart (and powerful) enough to play such games with you? he'd thought that you felt the same in return, hence putting up with his advances?!??!?

maybe it was all a ruse, to distract him from the very big moves you were pulling under the table. ayato doesn't see this until it's too late - he's thrice your age, half-senile, and has a look in his eye when he looks at you that ayato does not agree with.

and why had you signed yourself off to someone like that? for money? ayato isn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

no matter. he'd underestimated you, but you'd underestimated him in turn. ayato was good at playing games, but even he knew when it was time to get down to work.

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HEYYYY IT'S ME BIG BRAIN ANON AGAIN, LOMG TIME NO SEE!!!

I have an interesting dynamic with Kamisato Ayato similar to Aven. Considering how he's a noble, where most hide each other's intention and the other has to guess, I have a fun idea with him.

His darling, a high status "close friend" he's obsessed with. His darling knows he's obsessed, he knows that his darling knows about his feelings, but these two. Just refuse to reveal each other's intentions despite KNOWING how the other thinks. Like a 25/8 stalemate.

Problem is, Ayato's darling is so unpredictable that he genuinely doesn't know what she's thinking. Her actions always out of the box. Sometimes she plays along, sometimes she's to the point and asks him to stop beating around the bush. He never knows. It's like she do things according to her mood. Does she even have a strategy? Is she doing things according to her mood? What is she thinking?

HII BIG BRAIN ANON I MISSED YOU DEARLY 🥹 i was genuinely wondering if you were still around or if i fell off so badly people left HSDDJGKSNG

where ayato and aventurine differ, one is seeking fun and a difficult person to conquest, while aventurine is looking for stability and someone who can become his ultimate shelter (in his design). both of them have the deep-rooted need to control things in their lives, but at least ayato's... aware of it?

the idea that both ayato and aventurine's darlings are 10/10 able to take their energy and throw it back at them is so. chef's kiss.

either of them could be steeping tea, and they make darling a cup, sprinkling a little bit of funky powder inside. then somehow darling pulls out an ancient tradition from records from aeons ago and goes, "it's polite to exchange cups! :D"

she's ridiculous, and both of them love it. the eternal chase and the amusement of seeing what darling pulls out next is what keeps ayato going.

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in light of recent happenings, please all of you remember to stay safe, but also to continue engaging in things you enjoy and connect with people outside of the internet.

things are bleak, but by surrounding ourselves with the right people and things, they can be made bearable.

much love ♡

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What are some of the worst things the yanderes do directly and indirectly to the reader in your nobility au? Absolutely obsessed with the au btw my compliments to the chef

thank you so much for your support 🥹 so sorry it took forever to get around to this ask...

this post about creepy things they do covers it pretty well, but lemme see what else i can cook up >:)

aventurine

he's a good ruler, he really is - kind, charming and fair to all... except when it comes to you.

by scouring the earlier entries of your diary, aventurine finds mentions of people who courted briefly, written all out in plain language without even a simple cipher to hide them by. your innocence is so endearing, he just wants to squeeze you - after he's sent assassins after those people.

no one ever finds out who did it, of course. aventurine is careful about this sort of thing.

boothill

boothill has... maybe hurt some of the royal guards. on several occasions. not that you're aware of any such happenings, seeing as the guards regularly got roughed up on a daily basis. he's swift and precise, taking down those who are supposed to be assigned to be your escort the next day, and when you're confused and waiting alone at the carriage, he swoops in to save the day (and your trip into town) :D

ratio

he definitely has some... interesting sketches of you, let's just say, focusing on anatomy. if anyone found them, dr ratio would certainly be fired, but he knows of hiding places in the palace that not even aventurine is aware of. he's smart, after all, smart enough not to leave any personal markings that could ever trace the sketches back to him.

(not to mention, he kind of is a master gaslighter. and why would aventurine ever not side with him of all people?)

sunday

steals your intimates, abuses maids who don't treat you up his standards, etc etc... need i go on?

he's someone with too much power and not enough self-control. sunday bursts at the seams much too frequently, and he often ends up taking it out on the people under him. they're terrified of him, however, and he rewards those who please him well.

you never find out about this either. sunday's a professional at his job.

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the seelie court. yan!luocha

fae au

As it turns out, Faerieland is not as dangerous as you'd thought.

It’s more. Much more.

You cling to Luocha's fingers, shying away from bolder individuals who reach their clawed hands out to touch you. The fae are beautiful - beautiful and terrifying. The space shimmers with a myriad of cloth, of mud, of bare bodies, and the eyes that follow you are more often inhuman than not.

More than once, you catch sight of a tongue darting out to wet dry lips.

Your skin crawls. Luocha's walking much too fast for you to keep up, but tugging on him doesn’t seem like the thing to do.

Until your hand slips from his. And the crowd closes in.

There’s a heart-stopping, suffocating moment as the smell of mulch and wet grass envelops you, as fangs flash in toothy grins and the fae pinch at you like picking at wares in a market.

“Not very flashy, this one,” a goat-eyed man sneers.

“I think it’s pretty.” Another inhales deeply, something that could be a stick bug, with black bug eyes and gossamer-like pieces in place of ears. “And sweet.” He grabs your wrist.

There’s a screech and a sharp pain. The stick man is wrenched away, hanging by one gossamer wing, howling and struggling to get free.

The fae mutter and back away from his flailing limbs, lowering their eyes before Luocha - great and dark, the very shadows leaning toward him to emphasise the inhumane hollowness under his cheekbones and the cruel snarl on his lips.

"Move," he commands, and flicks the fae away from him, ripping wing from joint. Golden blood scatters out over the crowd, heads turning like vultures following prey.

Luocha takes your hand in his, distracting you from the sounds of carnage. "Come." His face has returned to the softness you're used to, eyes green enough to be otherworldly but not inhuman. He smiles gently. "Don't be afraid."

If you weren't afraid before, you certainly are now. But something about his grip implies that his words aren't up for debate; not to mention the wet, grisly sounds from behind you are rather deterring you from turning around.

The fae part like an ocean as you make the rest of your way to the foot of the dais. Luocha appears to float, almost, up the tangled root steps, while you cling to his fingers and stumble up, desperately trying not to fall.

"Be careful not to hurt yourself," he says, and you can hear the lilting tease in his voice, bordering on patronising. "Human blood is precious."

"I kind of have a lot of it." You chuckle nervously. Luocha maneuvers you into his lap, snapping his fingers. A fae brings to him a plate of glistening, golden fruit - fae fruit, soft enough to bruise upon the slightest wind but sweeter than the sweetest human candy.

He catches you looking. "Would you like some?"

"Um. No, thank you." You shift uncomfortably, unused to what must be a public display of affection. Yet from this vantage point, you can see much more carnal things going on in the revelry, and not a single eye batting at their shenanigans.

"Don't be afraid, pet." Luocha's voice is suddenly very close to your ear, lips brushing against your skin. "They won't hurt you as long as I'm around. Have a bite. I insist."

"I-" You shiver away from him, and you can hear his light chuckle. The fruit smells heavenly, like homemade pastries and crisp, ripe fruit all at once. Yet something stirs uncomfortably in your gut at the thought of biting into that. "It's... really okay." And for extra measure, you add, "I'm on a diet."

Luocha really laughs then like you've just made the funniest joke on the planet. The whole room flutters, and the fae laugh along with him, every eye trained on you.

He stops, and so does everyone else. The music and dancing resumes.

You want to go home.

"Humans are so amusing. I do enjoy your jokes, pet." He strokes the top of your head like he's soothing a little puppy.

You lower your eyes. And when you do, you see the distinct shape amongst the indistinct roots and brambles on the ground.

The shape of a casket. You gasp, lifting your feet up as if it can burn you.

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chikaidol au. yan!penacony

charming, skilled, and unafraid of doing fanservice, aventurine is easily the group's prized star. just bordering on breaking into the mainstream market, one could argue his life is much more comfortable than the average underground idol - and so what? he worked hard to get to where he is today, okay?

has a special love for doing livestreams where he's just chilling. on his bed. those always seem to pull in the most viewers... i wonder why.

veritas ratio comes in close as the next in popularity. something about the stoic, mean types really seems to get to fans going, and he's often the one picked to make quick-witted remarks and cutting observations on tv shows.

(not that he's complaining. out of all four of them, he's probably the one who gets to speak his mind the most often.)

you just know that sunday has pulled stints at butler cafes more often than not. he fills a really specific fan niche - the one with the loyal-to-the-death, obsessed ones who have their walls covered in unreleased photos of him. have they ignited fanwars more than once? well, for sure... but sunday is still grateful for their support regardless <3 after all, aren't they just showing their support for him in their own way?

boothill remains the most carefree, the most untouched by the cutthroat nature of the entertainment scene. in fact, people often wonder how he got into entertainment in the first place, but he just laughs it off and changes the topic.

boothill and his fans are the most universally liked around - it's common for people to say 'came for boothill, stayed for xxx'. hey, he's a sweetheart, okay?

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HOW DOD TOU GET ELLIES I SAW him in the trailer and waned him so bad but I thought these’re wasn’t an option for him bc there was only two 😭😭😭😭

PLS LET ME KNOWW I WANTED HIM SO BAD

OMGG HI ANON I'M SO SORRY I'VE BEEN OFF TUMBLR FOR SO LONG 🥹 i got him through one of the gachas! his route isn't released yet but in case you didn't know, you can set the cards as your homescreen cards :D

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ooOOooOOo im luving ur genshin impact yandere writing!!! the scara camboy post was just, so yum. thank u sm for sharing with us <3

omgbsdjgjsdkgb those posts were so long ago i thought people would have forgotten about them already, thank you for enjoying!!! i definitely enjoyed writing em