#;; out of dreams (ooc)

[whosbian]

[ohposhers]

i kid you not this came to me in a dream last night Blaze Sonic Fusion their name is Bullet cause i think im hilarious

[feimier]

once upon a dream.. CHILDHOOD ENCOUNTERS ִ ࣪𖤐 ִinc. riddle, azul, malleus. gn reader┊ 日长睡起无情思，闲看儿童捉柳花。。。

↻ can be taken as both platonic or romantic!

ʚ Riddle Rosehearts ：the regular at the patisserie

His first encounter with you was the same day he allowed himself to taste the strawberry tarts. The sunlight shone brilliantly on the silver of the patisserie, and he remembers your smile as you entered, and remembers how desperately he wanted to feel that too. He’d see you stand on the tips of your toes and see the excited gleam in your eyes as you observed the many delicacies with eager anticipation, and would imagine the joy he would have if only he had the privileges too.

He remembers how Trey had called you over to their table, and remembers the ghastly speech you made on how blueberry tarts were better (he begs to differ, but alas). The distressing look on your face when he told you that this was his first in a shop, much less a patisserie, was a delight to see as he savoured in your agitation. Despite the harsh scoldings from his mother after, it was still undoubtedly the best afternoon he ever had.

Life was normal for him, for a while at least. That was until he started spotting unprompted appearances of strawberry tarts sitting on his bedroom windowsill. He was originally hesitant in his advances towards the dessert, but gave in to the temptations eventually. He thought it a miracle and perhaps it was his mother’s way of apologising, yet the continuous presence of a strawberry tart every Friday afternoon proved otherwise. After the third week, notes scribbled with small riddles and greetings started to emerge along with it; drawings and poems the next. Eventually, the mysterious sender attached long letters that would narrate the mishaps of their week. Slowly but steadily, he knew more and more about his mysterious benefactor, and he could readily hazard a guess at who it was.

He would have to give you his thanks the next time he sees you, if he sees you at all.

ʚ Azul Ashengrotto ：the hopeless romantic by the sea

It was monday when he found his first scrap of text encased in the bottle next to his front door.

He was dismissive of it initially, deciding that it just wasn’t worth his time to be fixated on something so small, however peculiar and strange it might be. Yet despite his ignorance, the bottles— all with odd letters inside— keep appearing every week. They went from one to two, from two to three, and now as many as seven were found near the areas of his home, and as the amount of bottles increased, so did his intrigue.

Eventually, he could not help but fall victim to his curiosity. He slowly uncorked the bottle and took out the letter inside. He was half expecting for the ocean waters to ravage it, but the letter seemed to be covered in a special kind of gel to prevent it from dissipating with liquid, and this alone was enough to pique his interest even more. Materials such as this were quite rare, even in the merworld.. so how did this sender get ahold of it? Perhaps if he were to investigate further.. he might be able to find the great mage behind it.. maybe it was fate after all that brought these letters to him!

He was beyond disappointed to find that it was not indeed from a great mage, but rather from a simple lovesick human who was in a desperate search for affections. The letter did not contain a legendary spell that would transcend his existence, much to his disdain. Yet, the beautifully written words continued to captivate his attention, and he wonders how stupid someone will have to be to send such charming mail so relentlessly.. and with none of them getting sent back a reply. It’s quite sad honestly; makes him wonder how he might help this poor— wealthy— unfortunate soul.

Thankfully, the sender address was included in the letters. So naturally, he just had to take the first chance to lend his helping hand! He wasted no time to pen his return letter— the contents narrating the dealings and his terms. He decided to be the person that would write you a return letter every two weeks, on the conditions that you would partially financially support any of his forthcoming businesses. You ought to be able to.. considering the amount of madol you must’ve spent to acquire such magical gel.

That was the start for his first business affair. Time had long passed since then; now he lives in the present, where he sits back on his chair as he reminisces the past. He wonders how you’ve been doing recently, after all he hasn’t once received a letter from you, even after he informed you of his change in address.

Maybe it’s time to visit you directly.. to discuss the further terms of the contract of course.. now that you’re a important sponsor of mostro lounge.. he’s certain that he has no particular longing to continue knowing your thoughts, your emotions, and your life. It’s really not that you’re on his mind.. nor is it that he’s taken a liking to your ramblings.. it’s only that he believes there should be decent communication between client and proprietor (he still hasn’t realised himself that he had long broken the rule of replying only after two weeks).

He doesn’t want to know you at all.. or does he?

ʚ Malleus Draconia ：his knight in shining armour

It was not so surprising for malleus to see your rather dense form emerge from the dark robes of night and the overly lengthened barriers of his abode; it had happened much too many times and your perseverance had far surpassed his— quite limited (as you would often comment)— expectations.

Primarily, the accidental encounters he and you share were meant to be accidental. They were only ever supposed to occur in his escapades into the neighborhooding woods, just as the first he met you. At that time, he was still blissfully unaware of your abilities to initiate forced entries upon places that you were not supposed to set foot in, but alas, the current mischievous twinkle in your demeanor only continues to prove his perception to be flawed. He watches your silhouette as you hastily tidied yourself while huffing out whispers of hello— there was something especially endearing about your ruffled state, for a reason he can’t quite put a finger on (perhaps he feels that it is akin to a secret you allowed yourself to share with him, a state where only he could know, a condition where it was suited for him to be ruffled too).

You were his secret, his escape from the crushing weight of the unbearable loneliness. You were the one flicker of color in his monochromatic life, the one who made him feel alive in this dream. Your visits to his balcony were nothing less than a miracle to him ,and so his original casual anticipations of your visits have slowly turned into something he cannot live without. It was a routine that you would come for one night every week, and you’d talk with him about mundane things in life like how your toothpaste tastes weird or how you have to do your bedsheets tomorrow. These carefree conversations are one of the few ties he has with childishness, and he relishes in it, no matter how fleeting the moments may be.

He sees your goodbye as you hop off the balcony, and he waves to you with a heavier heart than usual. He did not yet know that this would be the last he sees of you, for a very long time.

comments, likes and reblogs are all greatly appreciated! thank you for the support 🌟🌟

[askcometcare]

OOC: Can you explain what objectum means/is please? I’m genuinely curious and I’ve never heard of it outside of your blogs.

OOC: Objectum is being attracted to objects in the way you would be attracted to a human. It's just an orientation, can be romantic or sexual or both just like any other orientation. :] Your "partner" is called a beloved object, some people have several and some just have 1. I am objectum myself actually

[ask-chachamaru-kny]

holy fuck

the boiling isles Titan

is bigender

Dana you—

[vere-licious]

fell down the hannibal rabbit hole again and now i want leander gently cradling Mcs cheek in his hand, looking at them with a soft look in his eyes despite the blood on his chin and clothes before he moves his hand on the back of their neck and holds them in place tightly as his blade sinks between their ribs

a scream leaves mcs lips and they try to push away but leander just pulls them closer, pressing their face in his shoulder, hearing their gasps of pain as they helplessly try to claw at his arms and get away

"I let you know me — see me," says Leander as Mc trashes harder with no avail "I gave you a rare gift, but you didn't want it."

He feels them slowly lose their strength behind their desperate moves with each second that passes.

"Its okay" Leander whispers achingly tender as he holds them tighter "We always have next time"

[bloodyarn]

*holds head*

oh no, I have some ideas regarding what would happen if you don't recruit her at the grove.... oh this is awesome...

[plusultraetc]

I've accepted that this fic will probably never be finished (although parts of it may be repurposed for future stories), but this exchange still makes me :')

+ bonus bc it made me laugh all over again

[heroesoath]

jean grey, telepath, watching teenage boom boom flirting with teenage rictor ( who is wearing a leather vest and no shirt )

[bruisedconscience-reblogs]

reblogs help us get more answers!

[jumioxox]

drdttober day four - regret

[zaphiyy207]

Essence of Dreams

" Have you ever pondered...What exactly granted the ability to manifest your dreams into reality? "

— Chapter 1

" Protect the Star rod at any cost. Even with your own lives. "

Just going to do shameless plug here, but if you guys are interested in game x anime crossover, then feel free read my fanfic on ao3! I already posted Chapter 1 and currently working on Chapter 2.

Forgive me if there's grammar mistakes in paragraphs (not dialogue related), I'm relying on sentences that sounds right in my head rather than grammatically correct hhHA

[asurastro]

[[ NEW REXPRESSION COURTESY OF CURLYTSUNAMIART ON THE BIRD APP

[kamaluhkhan]

veryyy tempted to write a fic for the summer i turned pretty....conrad fisher x reader....reader is/was a ballet dancer who grew up going to cousins and lived next door to the fishers....featuring angst (eldest daughter trauma + daddy issues) with lots of summertime fluff and childhood friends to lovers vibes <3

[askwanderingdreamer]

( Behold. A bean. Thanks @askcursedtales / @ask-shiny-umbreon. I'm just over the moon )

[talentforlying]

priest: i don't, ah, quite know what to say to you. if you are in such terrible danger, why are you taking it all so calmly? constantine: hmh! i dunno, father. i had a bloke beaten to a pulp earlier this evening. that sound calm to you? priest: you did what...? constantine: i must've been off me bleedin' rocker. i've never done anything like it before in me life, y'know?

constantine: but there's header gets his guts blown out, and george is stickin' his head in the noose, and helen gets ... jesus, then friggin' sarah bites me head off — ! everything's coming to bits in me hands and it's so easy to just see red and now, shit, they could've killed the tosser for all i know! and now i'm just like the bastards i've hated all me life! kill him! fire him! close them down! piss all over him! screw you, i can do whatever i want! i so much as blink and you're dead, pal! i'm in charge!! ...

constantine: 'scuse me, father. i'm always like this when i don't get me own way. — hellblazer #81, "rake at the gates of hell pt. 4"

babygirl you are just....so, sooooo offputting. (and grieving, and guilty, and terrified, but yeah: offputting.)

anyway, it's issues like this one that remind me why i kind of hesitate over some of the retcons in the recent spurrier runs, like the one with him now having opened dream's pouch of sand and stolen some before they even met. because like, it's easy enough to look at john constantine now — with 70 years of worst possible choices and unresolved trauma crystallizing underneath his skin to cover up all the soft, hopeful bits where he's used to getting hit — and assign him arbiter of ill intentions, magus of wasted potential, saint of shit choices, but man . . . he was new to this, once. he was still new to this 80 issues in.

80 issues in, and he's not used to losing friends yet; he even has time enough between catastrophes to grieve each individual one. still has enough left to live for at this stage to necessitate running and hiding, instead of bodily throwing himself at the problem like he learns to later, or sitting apathetically by to do nothing except smoke and watch the world fall apart when he finally gives up. fuck, he still apologizes.

and you're telling me this guy, this soppy wet cat motherfucker hiding from the devil in a church basement, so guilty over not knowing what happened to the guy that he paid people (paid chas, so chas could pay people) to attack that the bottle he's holding in this scene isn't even his second or third........this guy's past, more innocent self lied right to the face of DREAM OF THE ENDLESS and got away with it?

hm. i just don't know about all that.