#relics requests

[callsign-relic]

Hi, I saw your requests are open, and I was hoping you'd be ok with writing my request. I have been having a bit of a hard time, and I was wondering if you could write a Megatron fic for comfort. I'm usually a bit of a spitfire, but I'm just overwhelmed and exhausted. I'd prefer TFP Megatron, but I'm pretty flexible. Absolutely no pressure to write this, and I hope you have a great rest of your day! :)

Hi! So you did submit this while my requests were closed, but seeing the topic at hand, I wanted to get this done for you anyway. Thank you for being my first TFP Megatron request! This was actually very fun for me to write! To anyone who has read TF Exodus, I hope you’ll appreciate the little callbacks I make to it here and there >:)

I hope this could make you feel a little better anyway though, and I hope things improve for you soon :)

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader

“What’s the matter with you?”

The sudden question makes you perk your head up from your seat. You were sitting hugging your knees on the command module of the Nemesis’ hull, though you might as well have been somewhere else entirely with how lost in your thoughts you were. You look upwards to find Megatron gazing down at you from above— standing tall with his arms behind his back, gazing at you from only the bottoms of his optics, not with his whole helm. His muted grey frame stuck out sorely against the vibrant purple hue of the Nemesis’ command center.

“Wh— What?” You stammer, the mech’s question not fully processing in your head before you blabber out a response. Megatron doesn’t repeat himself, he merely continues to stare down at you as you gather your bearings. Despite the mech’s infamous impatience, he seems oddly content in allowing you to correct your misspeaking.

“Nothing,” you finally reply, even if you can’t make eye contact with him as you do. “Sorry to distract you. Keep going.”

Gunmetal grey flashes in your vision, and you realize that the very end of one of Megatron’s claws is suddenly beside your face, turning your head to face him. To your surprise, he’s bent down at the waist to level himself with you, yet still he has his helm raised just so that he’s still looking down at you.

“I asked you a question,” he begins, and despite the fact that he sounds like he was scolding you, his tone is… soft. Like he didn’t want his voice to ring too loud over your human ears. “And you will answer.”

Being scrutinized in such a manner, you couldn’t even think up a decent excuse. You were left stuttering under his gaze once more, and it’s only when you huff out a sigh that you mentally say ‘screw it’. “I’ve just… felt overwhelmed,” you answer, and Megatron’s digit slowly pulls away from you as you go on. “I know as the only human here I’m not expected to do much. But still, I want to pull my weight around here. I guess I’ve just been overworking myself in the process and…” you trail off. Seeing Megatron’s unchanging expression doesn’t encourage you in the slightest, and you turn your head away once more. “It’s stupid,” you mutter, “You’re dealing with so much more anyway.”

And for a while, it’s silent. Only the sound of the Nemesis’ engine roaring in the distance and the hull’s computer module’s fill your ears, and you’re sure that you’ve overshared. Not to mention the low purr of Megatron’s own idling engine, humming before you as if to mock you. Tears well up in your eyes and you make to curl into yourself once more—

Until suddenly, Megatron extends a hand, and scoops you up from behind.

You shout as you’re lifted high into the air, centering yourself in the middle of the mech’s palm as he raises you toward his faceplate. You quickly turn your gaze away from the rapidly descending floor over to Megatron, but unscrunch your face at the sight.

He almost looked… gentle.

Like a mech who has truly lived through several millions of years of war. You take note of the rough scars running down from his eyes and mouth. The typically harsh crimson glow of his optics didn’t burn you as they so often did before. No, rather they glowed down upon you with an oddly warm feeling.

“My pet,” Megatron begins, voice no higher than a low rumble you can feel resonate through the metal of his palm, “I know much of pain. Of working tirelessly, only to feel as though your efforts are fruitless. But what is it that I encourage every Decepticon to do?”

He actually pauses, and it hits you that he’s expecting you to reply. Awkwardly, you look to the side for a moment and shrug. “To… keep working and follow your orders?”

“To fight,” The warlord corrects you, and you blink as you’re taken aback. With his free servo, Megatron closes out the computer module you had been sitting on and suddenly starts to make his way out of the main hull, lowering you down towards his chest. Where he was going, you weren’t sure, but the rock of his arm beneath you and the sound of his heavy pedesteps almost relaxed you. “Though it was millennia ago, the Decepticons were originally formed to fight against our oppressors on Cybertron. The oppressors of not only the lower castes, but of every sentient being on Cybertron— the High Council.”

“I… I think I remember reading about that,” you remark, taking the chance to sit cross legged in his palm. Though the constant rocking motion of his arm was nice, you were only human— you didn’t want to get nauseous. “Soundwave was digging through some old files when he was trying to decode the Iacon database. The title interested me so I asked him to send it to me. Though, it was only in Cybertronian, so I couldn’t understand it very well.”

Megatron lets out a huff above you— or was it a laugh that he breathed out? “Originally, I did not necessarily condone the actions of the first Decepticons. Inspired by my words, rogue Cybertronians launched attacks over key parts of our planet. First, it was Six Lasers Over Cybertron. Then, it was Uraya. Polyhex. Stanix. Blaster City. The Sonic Canyons. All less than a cycle apart.”

As he went on, you found your jaw dropping. Countless Cybertronians cities bombed, not even under direct orders from Megatron? “Then finally, Altihex. All done without my awareness. And you know what that did?”

You shake your head. You couldn’t even muster up a squeak.

A smile curled itself at the ends of Megatron’s dermas, and you could see the rows of his sharp teeth flash from behind. “It got the Council’s attention,” he finishes. “It was from there that I learned that people do not listen to mere words. People listen to action, and it is through action that progress is made.”

You look down to stew over his words, but again, Megatron raises you back up to his face. He takes your head by your chin with the tip of his finger and raises it to face him. Once you lock eyes, he turns his gaze forwards— behind you— and you turn your own head to look where he’s facing.

Two thick iron doors slide open, and the sound of rushing wind blasts past you. You’re pushed forwards by the sudden impact, and you feel as though you might fly off of Megatron’s hand right there. But the force behind you stops in an instant, and you pick yourself up to find that Megatron has raised a servo before you to block the harsh winds as he lowers you back down to his chest. The titan of a mech continues forward, even as you look up at him in gratitude— though he raises his voice to allow you to hear him over the altitude.

“Your situation is dire, little one,” his rough voice declares, “thrust into an alien world, trying your hardest to keep up… it’s a monumental task, to climb so far if only to stand upon the shoulders of giants.”

You finally sit back down properly, only this time not bothering to cross your legs. Slowly, Megatron lowers the wall of his other hand, but as you think you might get cast away to the winds again, you notice the mech pull his thumb in towards you. You grab onto it, and wisely so, as with his now free hand the warlord gestures grandly out towards the main deck.

There, you see it. The endless sea of pure white clouds beneath you, brightly reflecting the light of the sun which was just starting to dip beneath the clouds. The sky was encompassed in a deep blue, though where the sun was beginning to settle down, soft hues of pink, orange, and purple were soon to follow.

“The world is yours to take, little one,” Megatron’s voice rings out over it all. “It will be mine to conquer, and yours to make the most of.”

#relic writes #this is also my unofficial announcement that I’ll be doing requests out of order from now on #Transformers #Transformers x reader #reader insert #Transformers Prime #Transformers Prime x reader #Tfp #Tfp x reader #Megatron #Megatron x reader #Tfp Megatron x reader

[kedicatt-cotl]

Unimportant question, who do you think is the best hugger/cuddler of your AU?

It is, in fact, a very important question and i took it VERY seriously

Undoubtedly, the best hugger and cuddler of the cult is Baabaa! Both his wool and fur are pretty soft, and he gives everyone the best cuddles and great hugs.

Other remarkable contestants would be:

Heket never cuddles and rarely hugs people, but when she does, she would hug them to death. I guess you could call that.. kind of the best hugger ability?

The kids - Vlastislava and Belomor - give the most hugs. The second place when it comes to the amount of hugs goes to Leshy. While the kids are soft and fluffy much like their parents, hugging Leshy can be comfy only if you watch out for the sharp twigs sticking out of his body.

#if you want the hugging imagery send your requests of that to my ASK #i wanted to do it here but i also just really wanted to post the answer to this ask for a long while and yeah #im willing to draw heket hug and leshy hug if youre interested #im willing to draw NARINDER hug thats even more interesting #cult of the baabaa kids #baabaa kids ask #cotl au #cult of the lamb bishops #cotl #cotl oc #cotl lamb #cotl heket #cotl leshy #cotl relics of the old faith #cult of the lamb art

[gncbozo]

Can we please get a lemm and quirrel (human or bug)

They have such a great dinamic

#hollow knight #hollow knight gijinka #relic seeker lemm #hk quirrel #hk lemm #gijinka quirrel #gijinka lemm #ask box open #request

[mantisgodsaus]

there isn't really a specific question on the ask games that fits but we want to hear you talk about what muse is/was like in selkieverse. she fascinates us based on the roughly two things you've said about her

Yes we can do this absolutely! Fair warning - There Are Things Here We Are Not Stating, mainly for spoiler reasons. Hopefully, they are excluded cleanly enough that this still flows well, but this is a long-ass thing so

Muse, though she wasn't a selkie herself, was close enough to Leif that he felt entirely safe leaving her with care of his pelt. She knew that he was a selkie pretty much from the moment that she met him - there wasn't quite as much baggage built up around the risks of having your pelt just Out And About, at the time, though a lot of selkies were a bit skittish about it, and Leif didn't really hide things.

A marriage, at least for moths, is more a contract of trust than anything else - an expression of trust, a unification of families, and so on and so forth. Somewhat more of one for selkies, with the big blaring weak spot they've got - it's a lot like showing your back to someone and just... hoping that they don't fuck you over. You welcome this particular bug into your family and you trust that they'll watch your back and help raise your children and look after your family when you're gone.

She was the usual person to keep ahold of Leif's pelt during expeditions, so as to keep it safe even when his bug body was in danger from being hurt or killed. She was trusted to keep it safe, or to use it for its transformation if the need ever presented itself - it was more shared between them than anything else during the later stages of their life together, and that meant that she was very, very familiar with how it felt.

Leif died in Snakemouth after having given her his pelt for safekeeping. Just to make sure he had an anchor. Just to make sure he didn't go too deep. Just to make sure that, if something happened, she would know he was okay from the heartbeat of his pelt - or, that if it went cold, she would know to stop, and get out while she still could.

She felt his death in the pelt wrapped around her shoulders. The aftereffects of the venom coursing through his veins, reflected in his pelt, giving the warning she needed to order a repeat. She felt his death throes reflected in the very literal piece of himself still trusted with her all the way out, and all the way home.

She sat at home after submitting the report that declared his death, a dead pelt still settled around her shoulders, standing over the shells of their eggs, knowing that the larvae were in the Ant Nursery where she couldn't know if they were all right or if her whole family had been killed where she couldn't even see, and she felt the shudder of a body restarting as the cordyceps settled into his husk.

Muse knew, for absolute certain, that he died. She felt his death throes. She felt his heart stop on her back. She also knew, for an absolute fact, that he was alive after that, even if she didn't know how or in what form. She knew this, and she could feel the dull pulse of his cordyceps self starting to take over his body in his skin, and she could feel the sealskin starting to change under her fingertips, and she was deadly, deadly afraid of looking away- of taking it off, or simply ceasing to pay attention for slightly too long, and returning to find it dead and vacant again. To that end, she just... didn't take it off.

She didn't take it off, in fact, for several years. Past the point where people thought she was in shock and morning and long into the point that people thought that her husband's death had broken something irreparable in her. She continued to wear it long after her children had emerged from the ant nursery, and long after they had begun to grow into fully-fledged selkies of their own, and long after they had the context to know about It All.

She got into arguments about it. As far as anyone else knew, she was dragging her dead husband's equally dead pelt around 24/7, and once her kids were old enough to understand that whole situation, there was a certain awareness of "hey, this is maybe a bit fucking bizarre to do, don't really like that". It was, in particular, a recurring argument with the son that would eventually become known as Grandpa, as he was of the firm opinion that it was Fucking Weird to walk around with a loved one's dead pelt twenty years after said loved one's death, and that she shouldn't Do That.

Unfortunately for him, this was not an argument he was going to win. Muse, being as stubborn as a bull and with no particular regard to what the neighbours thought, had been doubling down on this particular argument for twenty-eight years already. She had chosen to see this through, and no one could really convince her otherwise, though many of her children would try.

As such, she would remain "that weird lady carrying around her dead husband's pelt and skulking around doing who-knows-what since there's no damn way her husband's life insurance and her dispatch salary from the explorer's association would account for the care and feeding of eight kids plus herself without at least a few jobs in-between and no one knows what the hell she does for a living". The argument, however, would continue.

It would continue, in fact, until after Grandpa had had kids of her own, when Muze was fairly young. The old argument got brought up again, Muse refused to entertain the idea of maybe not being seen as The Local Weirdo, she went off to her room with the usual pelt. She sat, alone, in her room, thinking about the whole Situation. She put on the pelt.

This time, specifically, she chose to put it on in such a way to attempt to shift into Leif's selkie form. It had been years with barely any chance in it, after all. Though she had initially feared disrupting whatever delicate balance was keeping him alive, it had been stable for long enough that she was pretty sure that wearing it wouldn't disrupt something, and she... wanted the assurance, really, that she wasn't going mad. That her choices were based on truth - and that he was still out there, somewhere, even if dead-and-resurructed.

It... worked. With some caveats.

At this point, Leif was entirely merged with the cordyceps components, entirely hosted on crystal hardware, and the mirror that his pelt offered to his body was one where the bone marrow, connective tissue, and structure had entirely been eaten away by now, and the vast majority of the flesh was now composed of cordyceps tendrils that were a whole lot more obvious when they were puppeting around a skin suit with an internal skeleton, and not a relatively rigid exoskeleton.

No one could really deny that her old paramour was alive enough to animate a pelt. Unfortunately, no one could deny that whatever the fuck had happened to him, it had warped his selkie form beyond anything that anyone had really expected to be possible, and absolutely no one wanted to learn what the fuck his body looked like back in Snakemouth, or what form he was alive in, and no one really wanted to touch the pelt that had offered a form like that.

In particular, no one really wanted to see that particular pelt anywhere that someone might try to put it on after that whole fiasco, and no one was particularly fond of the idea of continuing to let Grandma Muse walk around with the living pelt of whatever her partner had become.

After a great deal of arguing, she accepted the compromise of hanging it over the mantelpiece, where she could keep an eye on it even without physically wearing it. She would then proceed to relocate herself to the living room for most of the rest of her days, if only to make absolutely certain that that faint, dull hum beneath the skin was still active- that he was still alive out there, somewhere, in whatever form.

Against all odds, she would live to see his awakening. Unfortunately, she would not live to see him actually return to his family - just to see the tell-tale shudder of a pelt growing active again, as miles below, Leif stirred from his slumber.

Her family are currently engaged in Trying Very Hard Not To Think About The Whole Situation. They are fairly certain that whatever the pelt belongs to, it's still in Snakemouth Den. They are fairly certain that Leif's relation to the family is through it, though theories are more "he's the kid of whatever-it-is and a different moth" than assuming that he Is In Fact Todd's Great-Grandfather.

No one really wants to take the pelt down from the mantelpiece at the moment, and absolutely no one wants to explain the whole Situation to Leif unless they have a better idea of what he's inherited from his other parent, but there's also enough shit going on with them in general that it might just never get brought up until someone directly mentions it.

Leif is currently under the impression that Muse remarried to a selkie because the whole "being a selkie" thing wasn't terribly relevant to the way that his current cordyceps took up residence and after that whole Situation he was not especially eager to delve into previously repressed memories.

Predictably, this whole setup goes Terribly when poked at, especially as Leif's pelt is a whole lot more autonomous than your average selkie pelt, being more than a century old by now and belonging to a fungus who is very much set up in a way where his disconnected individual body parts can act autonomously on remnants of whatever priorities are/were in the main control system.

It is still hung over the mantelpiece.

#asks #bf aus #selkieverse #selkieverse muse #selkieverse leif #we are carefully excluding some details as to what muse was doing with her free time beyond Having Kids for spoiler reasons #bc unfortunately a lot of the shit she was doing on her own is like Super Mega Spoilers for even like. entirely unrelated fic #having a living piece of leif around while leif is The Horrors is. maybe not an absolutely ideal situation it seems #muze is living in a horror movie and shes Aware of it but like. shes got her own shit going on. cant worry abt The Horrors too much #unfortunately we cannot elaborate any more on this without The Spoilers so uhh. muse. stubborn as a bull. causing Situations. #despite the Possible Implications we do wish to note that like. they do not actually think about it very much. they got their own shit. #there is a potentially cursed ancestral relic just In The House and you just kinda have to cope with that sometimes yknow #what are you gonna do. worry about it more. we thought not. #anyways this is the point where its relevant to note leif doesnt actually remember the whole Selkie Thing after leifs request #they actually only pick it up in the postgame! after the umm. the uhh. #actually dont worry about what its after its fine

[chafelis]

requests are open!! my college semester is finally over (･ω<)☆

#cha plays honkai star rail #i'm taking a break from playing star rail rn i'm severely addicted #will be prioritizing star rail requests btw #i'm level 49 now and i've just been relic grinding #thought i'd be free from that mechanic but nooo #self modeling resin is amazing but it's a once in a patch opportunity i'm just going to save it #saving up for kafka and blade need both of them carnally #expect a kafka fic in the future she's living in my head rn #love my morally grey female characters ( miko yelan kafka <3 )

[buffy]

I've submitted this to three different rpfinder blogs and had like two bites. So I've lost my shame, I'm posting it to my main. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I am a mid 20's female In search of a partner for an almost non existent fandom. I can't find fanfictions, fanart or anyone else talking about it on tumblr. So this might be a shot in the dark.

I'm obsessed with RELIC specifically the first book Smash and Grab by Maz Maddox

(It's only 13$ or 6$ on kindle on amazon. If you don't want to rp I beg of you to read it!)

But if you have I am searching for a Simon to rp against Dalton.

I don't have a plot perse and would love to build one! Canon or AU.

I'm specifically looking for an mpreg plot line, (myself as carrier just to be clear) which I know narrows down my options ever more.

I like hurt/comfort, whump, and always angst. I am comfortable with NSFW, not necessary but welcome.

For AU I love fantasy, modern fantasy, Sci-Fi, supernatural worlds or elements and some historical, though I will admit I’m not the best at those. I don’t much care for non fiction or modern. College AU’s are 50/50.

Here's hoping I get any bites! Please like this post if interested and I'll reach out. I rp only on discord! If you're not comfortable calling it an rp, I'm perfectly happy to call it co writing a fic!

PS. I don’t need you to be active all the time and hope you’ll extend that courtesy to me! Thank you!

#RELIC #Smash and Grab #DaltonxSimon #Dinosaur #mpreg #roleplay #rp #mpreg rp #roleplay request #whump rp #angst rp #book rp #please read this book #omg I love this book #I will create a fandom for this series with my bare hands if I must #relic rp

[contact-guy]

lol THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG but it's such a cute story opening that I had to draw Watson roasting Holmes's messiness for the newspaper and Holmes skillfully maneuvering his way out of having to do chores. It's all canon, even the indoor sharpshooting, except for the bit about the cold bath.

canon text under the cut:

An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least conventional in that respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan, coming on the top of a natural Bohemianism of disposition, has made me rather more lax than befits a medical man. But with me there is a limit, and when I find a man who keeps his cigars in the coal-scuttle, his tobacco in the toe end of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence transfixed by a jack-knife into the very centre of his wooden mantelpiece, then I begin to give myself virtuous airs. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humors, would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges, and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V. R. done in bullet-pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it.

Our chambers were always full of chemicals and of criminal relics which had a way of wandering into unlikely positions, and of turning up in the butter-dish or in even less desirable places. But his papers were my great crux. He had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected with his past cases, and yet it was only once in every year or two that he would muster energy to docket and arrange them; for, as I have mentioned somewhere in these incoherent memoirs, the outbursts of passionate energy when he performed the remarkable feats with which his name is associated were followed by reactions of lethargy during which he would lie about with his violin and his books, hardly moving save from the sofa to the table. Thus month after month his papers accumulated, until every corner of the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put away save by their owner. One winter’s night, as we sat together by the fire, I ventured to suggest to him that, as he had finished pasting extracts into his common-place book, he might employ the next two hours in making our room a little more habitable. He could not deny the justice of my request, so with a rather rueful face he went off to his bedroom, from which he returned presently pulling a large tin box behind him. This he placed in the middle of the floor and, squatting down upon a stool in front of it, he threw back the lid. I could see that it was already a third full of bundles of paper tied up with red tape into separate packages.

“There are cases enough here, Watson,” said he, looking at me with mischievous eyes. “I think that if you knew all that I had in this box you would ask me to pull some out instead of putting others in.”

“These are the records of your early work, then?” I asked. “I have often wished that I had notes of those cases.”

“Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before my biographer had come to glorify me.” He lifted bundle after bundle in a tender, caressing sort of way. “They are not all successes, Watson,” said he. “But there are some pretty little problems among them. Here’s the record of the Tarleton murders, and the case of Vamberry, the wine merchant, and the adventure of the old Russian woman, and the singular affair of the aluminium crutch, as well as a full account of Ricoletti of the club-foot, and his abominable wife. And here—ah, now, this really is something a little recherchè.”

He dived his arm down to the bottom of the chest, and brought up a small wooden box with a sliding lid, such as children’s toys are kept in. From within he produced a crumpled piece of paper, and old-fashioned brass key, a peg of wood with a ball of string attached to it, and three rusty old disks of metal.

“Well, my boy, what do you make of this lot?” he asked, smiling at my expression.

“It is a curious collection.”

“Very curious, and the story that hangs round it will strike you as being more curious still.”

“These relics have a history then?”

“So much so that they are history.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sherlock Holmes picked them up one by one, and laid them along the edge of the table. Then he reseated himself in his chair and looked them over with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

“These,” said he, “are all that I have left to remind me of the adventure of the Musgrave Ritual.”

I had heard him mention the case more than once, though I had never been able to gather the details. “I should be so glad,” said I, “if you would give me an account of it.”

“And leave the litter as it is?” he cried, mischievously. “Your tidiness won’t bear much strain after all, Watson. But I should be glad that you should add this case to your annals, for there are points in it which make it quite unique in the criminal records of this or, I believe, of any other country. A collection of my trifling achievements would certainly be incomplete which contained no account of this very singular business.

-The Memories of Sherlock Holmes: The Musgrave Ritual

#they are so married #also watson describing himself as bohemian #i know what you are #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #acd canon #john watson #my art #musgrave ritual

[zee-rambles]

Lets. D0. This.

(Please note: Post will be updated as I find more resources and think of more strategies)

(Please do not re-use gif without permission…unless it’s to save Rise…)

Mutant May

YOU can watch Season 1 and Season 2 of RISE right HERE!

So I’ve seen a a lot of people still wondering if Rise of the TMNT can be saved.

There’s is a lot of hope, especially with the boom of fans joining the fandom after the movie dropped last year, people making more art on tumblr, twitter, tik tok, and so on. But also a a lot of doubt, especially after JJ Conway’s post on twitter.

BUT…I still think there is a chance…a GOOD chance. WITH ORIGINAL CAST AND CREW! Why?

We live in the internet. Information is more then easy to get out now thanks to social media. There is all kinds of ways to get the word out to people. Let’s abuse it. 😎

Fans have brought back shows before.

We need a MAJOR push through social media, more fans, more art, it’s up to us…and I think we can do it!

Fans convinced Netflix to bring Sense8 back for a finale

Fans convinced fox to bring back “Futurama” after it was cancelled in 1999.

Hey Arnold got the jungle movie thirteen years after the show was cancelled

Animaniacs got a 3 season revival 22 years after it stopped airing.

Brooklyn 99 was cancelled in 2018, and the fans convinced NBC to pick up the series.

Arrested Development was canceled after 3 seasons, but AFTER it was cancelled, it grew an audience and they made it come back!

Fans saved the original Star Trek in the 60s with letters.

They did it. Why can’t we?

So what can we do?

Well…

1. PETITIONS TO SAVE RISE that we can all sign…

PETITION 1 (The strongest one, but the more petitions signed, the better!)

PETITION 2

PETITION 3

PETITION 4 (save the content that was cut/we missed)

PETITION 5! (Make an ROTTMNT season 3)

2. Pester Nickelodeon and Netflix on social media (THE BIG ONE Y’ALL, THIS IS THE MOST DIRECT AND IMPORTANT)

Be polite, be non-toxic (don’t be rude or mean, the boys would not want that, and the Nick/Netflix won’t listen), but be LOUD, PASSIONATE, AND ANNOYING! Ask for DVDs of the show/movie, and then BUY THOSE DVDs!

MAKE SURE TO ASK FOR THE FULL ORIGINAL CAST AND CREW TO COME BACK, INCLUDING ANDY SARIANO AND ANT WARD.

Sample DM/Letter (but try to come up with your own. Too many repeats and they will ignore it)

“Dear Nickelodeon/Netflix/Viacom, I can’t tell you how much Rise means to me, and I really love that you put the show on air. But it was not fair that the show was cancelled before it got the chance to reach the audience it deserved, only because of a few bad reviews and a lack of advertising. The show is great, there’s tons of fans, tons of art, and people, including me, want so much more! Please bring it back! We want the original crew to come, Flying Bark, for the show to get it’s full second season restored, and it’s five season run like it was originally intended. People hated the 2012 TMNT when it came out, but it got it’s chance and now there are people that love it. Why can’t Rise of the TMNT have the same? It’s clear that the creators love their work and there’s a growing fan base for it. Rise just came out at the wrong time, but it deserves it chance to shine.”

The more personal you made the letter, the more you say what Rise means to you, the better.

As for me? I’m sending them a picture of Pizza Pigeon with the #wewantmoreriseoftheTMNT and #saverottmnt

Request movies/seasons on Netflix.

Ask for Rise Season 2, another season, another movie. Just keep asking!

Nickelodeon’s facebook page (Look, I know that facebook is a relic at this point, but the more people go there and PESTER Nickelodeon, the better!)

Rise’s facebook page

Leave good reviews. Share. Leave TONS of comments

Nickelodeon’s instagram

Nickelodeon’s Twitter page (treat carefully, there be Musks out there…only use if you are over 18)

Nickelodeon’s TikTok

Niceklodeon’s letter inbox

Nickelodeon, 1515 Broadway, New York, NY 10036

Rugrats was brought back because fans bombarded Nickelodeon with letters saying they wanted it back. Might as well cover our bases. This one is a BIG DEAL!

Nickelodeon’s Corporate Number

1-212-846-2543 Call them! Annoy them! Ask how we can get their attention! Tell them why you love this show! Why it deserves to come back.

Contact Paramount

Paramounts Request form

Official Fan Page Rise’s Instagram

The more followers the better.

Netflix’s instagram

Netflix’s facebook

Netflix’s Twitter (Treat carefully. There be MUSKs out there…only use if you are over 18)

SPAM NICKELODEON’S EMAILS!

[email protected]

[email protected]

[email protected]

[email protected]

If anyone has any more, any deeper more direct points of contact, or more ideas, please share!

3. Leave good reviews for Rise anywhere and raise awareness everywhere you can!

One of the key reasons Rise did not do too well because it was unfairly review bombed before people could give it a chance…so get out there on tik tok, IMDB, Rotten Tomatoes, and ESPECIALLY youtube.

Make reviews! Analysis! JOKES! Support other content creators! When the Rise Reanimated video comes out, share it like no tomorrow!

No one paid attention when How to Train Your Dragon came out, but word of mouth and people saying it was good, made it the success it was. Let’s repeat history!

Anytime there is NEW RISE CONTENT on Nickelodeon’s YouTube channel, watch it, share, spread it.

Share this post on social media, across various sites, use the information here to spread awareness about how people can help and what they can do. Be relentless! (Like Leo in Lair Games)

Ask influencers to review, react, and give RISE a chance without placing judgement.

4. Make. ART!

Draw, Write, TWEET, Make MERCH, Sell MERCH, Make Tik Toks, Videos on YouTube, posts on instagram, discord, what pad, demanding more Rise, spreading the word, and just showing how much you love this show! Not only will it attract attention, but it’s also good for all of us. There will be more Rise content either way.

Make sure to @ nickelodeon on ALL of your art! SPAM THEM! ANNOY THEM! DROWN THEM IN LOVE FOR THIS SHOW! Demand DVD’s and Blue rays of the SHOW AND THE MOVIE! It’s not fair that we can’t have access to it!

PLAY THIS GAME!

If you see official Rise MERCH in the while, buy it if you can! Also support as many rise content creators as you can. If you can’t draw? Write! If you can’t create! Like! Share! Comment! Support each other!

Rise April ART Challenge

Keep in mind…there WILL be pushback.

Companies as big as Nickelodeon and Viacom care about their bottom line: $$$…money. BUT pushback, whether they are taking down your videos on Tik Tok, striking artists on twitter, mean that they’re taking NOTICE. So don’t. Give. UP!

One last thing to remember: DO NOT harass fans for enjoying other versions of TMNT

Even though Rise is the first and only TMNT I have ever loved, I don’t believe in shaming other fans for looking forward to, or enjoying other TMNT series. Gatekeeping like that was what stopped Rise from (heh) Rising as high as it should have. All Rise fans are welcome, and all TMNT fans are welcome. Rise deserves to reach more fans, it deserves another season, and it does not need to knock down other TMNT series to do it. Show them your love and your need for more Rise, without making other TMNT fans feel unwelcome.

Share, spread the word, give it your best shot! A village can move MOUNTAINS! SO let’s do it.

So that in the near future…we can MAKE THIS JOKE!

#rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #unpause rottmnt #rottmnt leo #save rise of the tmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #netflix #instagram #nickelodeon #viacom #paramount #facebook #signal boost #social media campaign #petitions #turtles #underrated show #flying bark productions #manifesting

[astranne]

I just finished Fischl's part of the event and it made me kin her even harder. I wanna write you some headcanons and angst brainrots BHT IDK IF U FINISHED THE EVENT YET if u havent started yet, the Fischl domain wasnt that hard at all i finished it in like 30 minutes at most cause i got lost 🫶

-🪶

wkdbwkf FISCHL ANON-

hi hi :) i hope you‘re doing well!! tbh… i haven‘t been playing genshin the past few days and i still need to do the event. maybe today? maybe when i‘m back home??? i don’t know yet but i will post a lil post when i finished it! so you can send me lots and lots of headcanons, brainrot and… angst. gimme all the angst grabby hands

i‘m actually not really worrying about the difficulty, since my lvl 80 characters are pretty solid and i‘m still AR45. i just refuse to do the ascension quest. until i have everything farmed for all my current lvl 80 characters and kazuha, to immediately level them up to 90 in one go. (this is why i have 300k exp but 🤷‍♀️) but!! i’ll try to not get lost lmao-

also, kin your kins harder, always and forever!! and if that event helped you to kin fischl harder, yeah well- YAY!!!

#genshin impact #ngl #i should be doing so many things #in dislyte i should farm gold and relics and build like five characters #in genshin i should farm for many characters and get better artifacts and do the event and some story quests #in real life i should like… sleep a bit more #and for writing… #i should write some of my requests #yeah… #i’m really sorry abt that- #wasn’t planned at all #✨ star dust #⭐️ 🪶.star

[callsign-relic]

can someone please make a multi chapter dreadwing x human reader fic. Pleas e please it’s for research purposes plea

#relic answers #teeeheeeee #another fic in my old deleted requests that I still lowkey wanna do #dreadwing x reader fear play #but I don’t have any ideas for it 😔

[matrixbearer2024]

Idea for your "get off my screen" series! So what if the reader is like visiting someone/housesitting for someone and they have a radio that reader is listening to because she loves it, and they (of course) bring their phone and laptop to stay talking to vox, and when they connect him to the TV in the living room and the first thing he sees is the radio and he's like "get that thing the fuck away from you" and the readers like "um, no? I love it. I was thinking about getting one for my room" and he's like "absolutely not"

Get That Shit Off My Screen!

A/N: Oh this is fucking golden, I absolutely need to write this to displace the absolute angsty unit of an interlude I wrote hahahaha- I'll be finishing the requested interludes before I continue with the story. I ended up posting the continuation so y'all could already get down to brainstorming and scheming on lore ideas XD

A/N: Vox is kind of a pissy little rat here and we just annoy him a bunch more too lololol Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy the story and as always- Happy Reading!

You have seriously got to stop accepting favors from friends.

Because that was how you found yourself walking down the sidewalk on the way to go housesitting.

Just a week ago you'd had to impromptu take care of a little puppy.

And consequently placate a certain jealous TV demon-

And now you were asked to carry another favor as well.

Well, more like that friend practically begged you to accept.

You slightly readjusted the backpack you wore, it wasn't as light as hoped when you left your home.

Which, makes sense all things considered.

After all, it had your devices in there along with the necessities.

If you had to end up bored today you were going to rope in a certain annoying overlord just to avoid it.

Fumbling with the keys a bit, you opened the door to the house and entered before locking it behind you.

A habit you'd grown up with after your parents constantly reminded you to do so.

The home was... pretty big, especially compared to the place you were currently living in.

Tossing your bag onto the living room couch, you explored the rest of the home for a bit before returning.

"Gonna be housesitting today, mind if I connect you to the TV?"

When he simply replied with a thumbs up emoji, you figured he wasn't doing anything and just connected your laptop to the living room television again.

He didn't appear right away though, so you decided to look around the home once more.

It was filled with a lot of old stuff, reminiscent of a time gone by.

Which, kind of makes sense since it was the house of your friend's grandma that you were watching over for the day.

Ooooh- what's this thing?

"Hey doll sorry I'm late, got a bit delayed from a meeting and- GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THAT!"

You jumped at suddenly hearing Vox's words from the TV, when did he even get here?!

You had half a mind to yell at him for scaring you but you were far too curious about this old boxy object you found.

"Whaaa??? Why? What even is this?"

You asked while messing with the knobs, you doubted it even worked when it randomly started to play a song.

Oh.

OH.

So that's why he was so pissed.

And so you decided to troll with your digital companion as he often did to you.

"Woaaah, I've never seen one of these old radios before-"

"I'm surprised that one still works, it's an obsolete piece of fucking junk!"

Vox didn't really have time to scan the new surroundings when he'd connected to your devices and consequently the TV.

It didn't help either that the first thing he noticed was that you hunched over messing with something.

Only for him to find out moments later that it was a fucking radio.

The same old shit he'd been busy trying to wipe off the face of hell ever since his rival's return.

And the fact you were starting to get interested in it made his blood boil.

You held back a snicker seeing Vox just angrily glare at the old relic as it continued to play tunes.

You were aware of his entire vendetta against Alastor-

Or well, with as much as he'd tell you when he ranted.

But the fact something so simple as just a reminder set him off?

"Well I think it's niche, maybe I should get one of these for my room-"

"NO- zzZzzZsT THE FU- zZzST -CK YO- ZzZZsT -U AREN'T!"

You couldn't hold the laughs back this time, doubling over when Vox started buffering and yelling about how stupid and old the radio was.

He didn't even seem to notice that you were just pulling his leg.

Something this old wouldn't fit into your home, besides-

You had a new Bluetooth speaker with loads better audio quality.

This old thing was just a nice reminder of times long ago.

Times you didn't even live in.

"Finnneeeee, fine fine you pissbaby. I won't get one. Still think it's pretty funky though."

You said as you plopped down on the couch, noticing Vox's face was still glitching and fizzing on the TV screen.

He wasn't even looking at you and instead was glaring off to the side.

Was he that upset about the radio?

Really??

"Dude, you know as much as I do how ancient that stuff is. If I did end up getting one it would be because someone dumped it on me. I like looking at the past but not collecting relics."

Vox still didn't react and you raised an eyebrow.

Silent treatment huh?

Okay, you could play his game.

"Anyway, I was looking up stuff from around the decade you told me you died."

He finally looked back to you with a raised eyebrow.

Bingo.

"And I ended up finding this serial murder case that's still unsolved to this day."

Vox only furrowed his eyebrows, he wasn't in hell for murder.

As far as he was concerned, it was probably because he was a lying and cheating businessman.

As you continued to talk more about the details of the case, it started to paint a more familiar picture.

And as entertaining as it was to watch you discuss with him something interesting you found-

Vox was not fond of you talking about Alastor so avidly.

Geez, if only you'd look that cute talking about him like that.

What-

What?

That was probably the envy talking.

"Doll, I know you were probably trying to cheer me up but I'm kind of certain that's one of Alastor's cases."

"Huh? Why do you say that?"

"The old fuck's a cannibal. I knew for sure it was him when you mentioned the bodies were found cut up like a butchered pig."

At least Vox was talking to you again, even if he still looked more than peeved it was about his rival.

He actually looked more grumpy and pouty in your opinion-

But that was probably because you weren't seeing right.

"Well, why did you end up in hell then? I would've thought you'd be in for something just as horrible to be as powerful as you say you are."

Vox just sighed, he wasn't actually sure what got him dammed for eternity.

But he did a lot of bad things over the course of his life, so it was probably the accumulation of it all that had sent him into the inferno.

"What makes you ask dollface? Curious much?"

You just shrugged, shifting to lie down on the couch and just look up at the antique chandelier hanging above on the ceiling.

"Dunno, I just want to know more about you. I mean, I know enough- but I want to know more."

Vox could feel his screen heating up slightly in his chair.

Why did you have to be so damn cute-

The fact you wanted to know more about him, it made him feel... odd-

Well, a good odd.

He didn't really know what to do with himself.

"I'm not actually sure. I've been a businessman my whole life, probably the worst of the worst when it comes to principles but I haven't directly ever killed anyone if that's what you're guessing."

"Huh, makes me wonder if I'll end up in hell for the stunts I've pulled on other students too."

"The hacking? Or the blackmailing? Because I doubt either of those would actually send you down here."

"Oh come onnnn, I swear at this point I'll actually kill someone so I can guarantee I'd meet you."

You raised an eyebrow at the screen turning pink again.

Pfft, did he seriously get embarrassed by that?

A smile worked onto your face when Vox softly excused himself and disconnected from the TV.

Ha, cute.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x you #get off my screen series

[tragedybunny]

omg your requests are open? If you're okay with some angst but a sweet ending, can I please request Astarion overhearing the others trying to warn you about Astarion? Like, telling the reader (female please) that he doesn't actually care or like her and she just looks sad and says "I know, but I'm stupid and care about him" and he just gets upset and wants to prove that he does like her? Sorry if this is dumb, haha

Hi Anon, My usual apologies for the wait. I wanted to do a different spin on this because I always find it a little jarring that Astarion confesses to you and then is so prickly about killing the Orthon to get information from Raphael. I always wondered if it occurred to him he was being kind of a jerk about it. So this scene plays out in the second act.

This Is Me - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion lurked at the outskirts of camp, unable to bring himself to come face you. After everything he'd told you, after those moments of hope, he'd failed, himself and you. The Orthon, he’d been less than gracious about getting around to killing the devil. And after, gods, why did he talk to you like that? Because the scars on his back felt like they burned, and his mind had screamed at him since you'd said they were infernal. Even though he knew you'd been upset, you'd only turned away, saying that it was probably wise to rest before pursuing Thorm’s relic further. 

You all had made a makeshift camp in the heart of Shar’s sanctuary, where not even Shadowheart seemed wholly at ease. And he’d hidden like a coward until now, when he’d finally been able to push himself to come find you. Creeping back to camp, he’d been silent, trying to figure out where you were without running into any of the others, he couldn’t take whatever disdain he’d find in their eyes either. 

He’d made it close to your shared tent when the sound of Shadowheart’s voice had frozen him where he stood. “I’m not saying he’s not sincere, I’m just saying, we all know Astarion by now. He looks out for himself first.” 

“I understand where you’re coming from,” even if you didn’t sound convinced, the fact that you even had to say those words was enough for him to feel like his unbeating heart was shattering behind his rib cage. 

“She has a point Soldier, I like Fangs well enough, but you know how he can be. Just be careful with yourself,” Karlach added. Did they all believe he only thought about himself? 

“We just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Of course, Gale had to add to it. 

“I know you’re all concerned, and I know how he can be, but I care about Astarion.” He didn’t need to hear anymore. No one had managed to spot him, so he slipped into your shared tent and tried not to fall apart. 

Everyone in this damned camp wanted to warn you away from him, and the worst part was that they weren’t wrong. How long had it taken him to behave like an arse to you? He did care though, that wasn’t a lie or a scheme. Where you’d accepted it before on just his word, it felt he’d have to prove it now, since he’d gone and messed everything up.  He just didn’t know how.

Huddled on the floor of the tent, he pulled his knees up to his chest, and frantically thought.

Sex was out of the question, even if he could bring himself to do it, you’d see through it in a heartbeat. What else did he have? A lot of pretty words and burdens, which you already shouldered. He glanced around the tent at his scattered, sparse belongings, noting you hadn’t even had time to unpack yet. Maybe that was the answer. 

If there was more said about him, he hadn’t heard, intentionally blocking out whatever other sounds he heard. He assumed there was dinner, at some point, nothing for him to miss there. You appeared in the entrance to the tent far sooner than he had expected though, and caught him still packing things in his bag. “So that’s it, you’re just going to up and leave? And here I was getting worried you’d been gone so long tonight.” Your voice was deadly calm and he couldn't tell if you were sad or furious. 

Closing his eyes, he centers himself, trying not to get lost in the maelstrom inside his own mind. Standing, he looked you in the eyes, pained to find unshed tears sparkling there, but this was for the best. “I’m going to face Cazador, and whatever he’s done to me, alone.”

“W-what? Is this because of the Orthon?” The words fade into a stunned whisper, you don’t understand what he’s trying to do. Desperately, he gropes for your hand, to comfort you, to explain to you, but you pull away. “You’ll just abandon me because I didn’t kill it quick enough?’

“Love, no! I just need to do this on my own. To show you.” The words run out and he clenches and unclenches his hands frustratedly. 

“By the gods, show me what?” 

“That I’m not using you. That I do care about you for more than what you can do for me. I’ll go to Baldur’s Gate and when I’m done I’ll wait for you.” 

With it all said, Astarion waits in the silence for your response. He waits far longer than he thought he would. Really, he’d thought you’d embrace the idea after everything he’d overheard. “Astarion,” you begin sweetly, and you have his rapt attention, “are you out of your fucking mind?” You grasp his shoulders and clench them tightly, fingers digging in, emphasizing your words. 

“I…of course not!” He tries half-heartedly to pull out of your grip, but you don’t seem keen to let him go. “But you don’t trust me any more so what,” his voice cracks unpleasantly and you release his shoulders, arm wrapping around his chest, “what else can I do.” 

Instinctively, he returns your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. “You heard all that, didn’t you? I’m so sorry, I just didn’t want them to worry about it anymore.” 

“What if they're right? I'm not sure that I can think about anyone else first until this is done, and I fear I’m going to hurt you.” He doesn't look up from where he's pressed against your skin, not wanting to see if you agree. 

“I knew that Astarion, it was obvious from the start.” You let go and push away, putting space between the two of you as your hand comes to cup his cheek and hold his gaze on yours. “We'll deal with this together, just like I promised.” 

You plant a small kiss on his cheek and he almost sobs, pulling you back into a fierce hug. “You…”

“Silly girl?” You finish with a small laugh.

“Incredibly sweet and wonderful girl.”

“Now you're just trying to flatter me.” He can hear the relief in your voice. “Unpack, please. I’m exhausted and your bag is in the middle of our tent.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” There really is no fighting you once you’ve made up your mind, and he doesn’t really want to go anymore. 

“Absolutely not, silly boy.” The kiss you give him is soft and warm enough that it chases away his lingering doubts, for tonight at least. 

Tag List:

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress @astariongf

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #xreader #astarion x f!reader #my writing #my fanfiction #asks #anon asks

[leviathans-watching]

I have an request for you- is it alright if you do an fanfic where the brothers, dateables, and even the new characters get turned into toddlers? And now (mc) had to care of them? But Luke turns into a baby. A really fluffy, motherly thing? Idrk it's my first time requesting from you- it's alright if you don't want to do it though! :D -chickechee 🐥

when they turn into toddlers

includes: barbatos & gn!reader, & everyone else (no pronouns mentioned)

rated g | wc: .5k | m.list

a/n: oml this was so cute i hope you enjoy!! i have more baby!luke here as well. my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come say hi <33

reblogs are greatly appreciated

“oh my god!” you look around the room in horror. “what the hell happened?”

barbatos looks like he hasn't slept in a week. it’s only been a few hours since the initial incident. “what always does,” he answers tiredly, shifting toddler–yes, toddler!–diavolo to his other hip. “someone touched some cursed relic they weren’t supposed to and the effect was disastrous.”

“that’s one word for it,” you murmur. everyone, except for you and barbatos, had regressed into children. infants, even. barbatos had made quick use of the castle’s nursery, left over from one of the previous rulers, and turned it into something daycare-esque, thankfully providing a safe space for them all to be that would keep them out of harm's way, as well as trouble.

as you watch, mammon rises onto shaky legs, making his way over to levi, who’s playing with blocks. “oh please tell me he’s not going to do what i think he’s going to do,” you moan.

“he’s going to do exactly what you think he’s going to do,” barbatos replies, and sure enough, in one deliberate movement, mammon knocks over all of levi’s hard work. immediately, levi begins to scream, startling mammon, who falls back onto the padded ground and begins to cry himself.

“oh, shush.” moving more on instinct, you scoop levi up, patting his back gently. “you’ll be alright, honey.”

he quiets, staring at your face. you wonder if he recognizes you. mammon is still crying, so you set levi back down and move on to comforting him.

“that wasn’t very nice, now, was it?” you ask gently. “let’s not knock over other’s towers, okay?”

he sniffles, rubbing at his eyes with tiny fat baby hands, and it’s just the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. when you go to set him down, he holds tight, and you realize that apparently, he was just as clingy as a toddler as he is now. wonderful.

shifting him to one side, you take stock of everyone else, making sure there are no immediate concerns. simeon, rapheal, and lucifer are sitting together, coloring (and jesus christ you’re going to need to pull out your camera right now), diavolo is still in barbatos’ capable grasp, beel and belphie are napping quietly in a pile of blankets, solomon is telling something to asmo and satan in incomprehensible toddler speech, and mephisto and thirteen are busy playing on their own. you spy a crib in the corner, which must hold luke, who barbatos had said had regressed into an infant rather than a toddler.

“you’re good with children,” barbatos observes, and you sigh.

“i always did like them. i spent my teenage years as a babysitter and camp counselor so i have some experience under my belt,” you explain. “so are you, by the way.” you’ve long stopped being surprised by the fact that barbatos is skilled at literally everything.

“yes, well, it helps that they’re a bit better behaved like this than when they are normally,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. against your shoulder, mammon echoes your laugh, then sticks his fingers in his mouth. eh, he’s got a demon’s immune system, he’ll be fine.

“how much longer are they going to stay like this?” you ask, and barbatos shrugs.

“probably two or three more hours,” he says.

“just enough time to have to give them lunch while they’re like this,” you say with a slow-dawning horror. “which should be super easy and not difficult or tiring at all.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

#obey me #obey me game #obey me shall we date #swdom #omswd #obey me x reader #obey me x you #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #levi obey me #satan obey me #asmo obey me #beel obey me #belphie obey me #diavolo obey me #barbatos obey me #simeon obey me #solomon obey me #luke obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #barbatos x reader #barbatos x you #barbatos x mc #obey me fluff #obey me imagine #chickechee #answered asks

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Knights of St. Kazvarin

There's pious and selfless devotion, and then there's whatever these weirdos have going on

Riding forth from their brooding fortress-abbey to do the will of a long dead holy man, these inscrutable warriors have long been the subject of rumour and suspicion. It's not an undeserved reputation, as apart from looting tombs for ancient relics or ominously observing the goings on of the common folk these forboding knights are most often acting as the hired muscle for unscrupulous nobles who have no regard for the legality or virtue of the orders they enforce.

Far more than mercenaries with a patina of piousness, the Knights use these contracts to fund a secret and sinister endeavour that they have undertaken for centuries.

Adventure Hooks:

While delving through a dungeon the party follow a trail of slain monsters to a gravely injured knight and his thoroughly overwhelmed young squire. The boy will introduce them as Tilaen and Ser Darrik respectively and ask for their aid in tending to his master's injuries, before the dour Knight chides him for speaking on his behalf and tells the party to be about their way. Ser Darrik wants no help from "the faithless" and is willing to use the last of his strength to get violent about it. If cooler heads prevail, the party will learn that the two were after a rare manuscript hidden somewhere within the dungeon, and the offer of collaboration might be explored. If the party don't help, they'll find the squire waiting for them at the dungeon's entrance, requesting their help to bury his master and guide him back to their order's abbey. It's only after a few days of travelling together will realize that Squire Tilaen is muchabused by his sect, and that steering the boy away or outright adopting him might be the real kindness.

Acting as a stern and imposing shadow to whatever asshole noble or callous merchant the party have recently pissed off, the towering and always helmed Ser Gelceiras has "Bossfight" written all over him. However when the adventure's final confrontation looms the party find him cleaning off his massive axe, his employer's head in a bloodsoaked bag waiting to be delivered to them. "We got what we wanted from him" he rumbles as he exits, " you can have what's left. no hard feelings."

Just a new threat encroaches on the settlement, a mace wielding bruiser in burnished armour rides up and pledges to fight alongside the party in its defence. Ser Portia's skill as a fighter is sorely needed, perhaps enough to overlook whatever agenda it is that drew her to the settlement in the first place. Shortly after the final battle is fought and the dust clears, the party will realize Portia is nowhere to be seen... having escaped sometime during the aftermath after inexplicably kidnapping one of the locals.

Background: Before he was a sacred corpse, Saint Kazvarin was a necromancer of great talent, having dedicated his life to the study of thanatology and the many loopholes around death. This earned him great renown and wealth in his day, amazing the masses with seances while charging the powerful dearly for cut-rate resurrections. He amassed generous patrons and fanatical followers, only to have it all fall apart when the Raven Queen took an interest.

Kazvarin had and constructed his own bootleg afterlife, a place where his most loyal followers would rest forever in glory before being called back in time of greatest need. Atleast that was the sales pitch, in reality the "saint" had stopped just short of lichdom delving into the shadow to create a demiplane where his own soul would reside undeminished after death, sustained by the faith of his followers as the realm hollowed them out.

Such villainy inevitably created it's own downfall in the form of a young woman who's family were taken in and exploited by Kazvarin's cult. Though her name was not recorded by history, she was marked by the Duskmaven for greatness when she swore to tear down the saint who would conquer death, years later succeeding along with some allies in not only killing the necromancer but cursing him with a most ironic fate. Denying him the afterlife he had so meticulously constructed, the raven queen cursed Kazvarin with reincarnation, forcing his soul to live out a new life where it would forget all he knew and be remade.

It would have been a perfect punishment had the Saint's followers not been so fanatical. Though their organization had been shattered by their "benevolent" leader's apparent assassination, the most loyal of his inner circle poured through his research, finding the spells nessisary to seek out his soul in its new vessel. Thereafter they engaged in a grim hunt, crossing the realms to ritually sacrifice the youth their leader had grown into and pulling free his undigested soul. This is the cycle Kazvarin's followers have been following for generations, spending decades hunting for signs of their leader's return before using murder and necromancy to forcibly deincarnate him. Thereafter Kazvarin has a few months or years to act freely before he is swallowed back up by the tide of souls and the hunt begins again

Future Adventures:

Though they begin as a comparatively minor oddity, the knights become a true threat to the campaign as soon as they figure out who Kazvarin's current incarnation is and manage to wrest his soul out. Ideally this should be someone the party knows, to make it all the more tragic that they were sacrificed to bring about the villain's return.

Though it is much deminished, Kazvarin's demiplane (called the Howling Basilica) still traps the souls of those who have sworn their lives to him, acting as a vault from which he can pull rank upon rank of shadow-maddened spirits to his bidding. His most loyal retainers are allowed to keep their skills and individuality while being deprived of their will, meaning he has a backlog of highly skilled Knights just waiting for new bodies to possess no matter how many times the party defeat them on the field. What's worse is that the saint still remembers how to manipulate people with the offer of offbrand immortality, and will likely begin reaching out to powerful individuals shorty after his return.

Art 1

Art 2

#necromancer #knight #villain #villain cleric #villain necromancer #villain noble #camp follower #mid level #undead #lich

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi, i dont know your request are still open, but. Maybe Arlecchino! reader? where the batfam first time met them, they think she is a enemy? (well she is actually, idk) by her mysterious manner? they know her from Damian, who is friends with Lyney and Lynette. Damian never met with reader. But, one day. Lyney and Lynette is been bring to the Wayne Manor by Damian. For a simple dinner, yes. They tell that they are orphans that live in a orphanage named "House of Hearth" at France.

They come to Gotham for study. And yes, Bruce feels sympathy for them (actually want to adopt them.). Well thats just an idea he have in his mind. But, now. Bruce interested as they said that "Father" which is reader is a woman. And lucky, Reader is at Gotham for some "business", Bruce added that he like to make this "Father" came to have dinner with them tommorow.

(Fatui Harbinger is a netral organisation. Yet, still indeed dangerous. They only search something important for their own fortune, maybe like a mafia or something?)

Anyway. When the Batfam met with Reader, they cant help. But find, reader is.. Strange, and mysterious. But cant help by their charming aura. And, why is reader suddenly accept the offer to met with the Batfam? because, she want to make sure about her guess that Bruce Wayne is the Infamous Batman. (okay, maybe the fatui harbinger have some issues with the superheros ig). As Batman was the one who failed her mission for seeking a Hydro gem. She managed to escape of course.. (Idk, its your choice to finish the rest of it, im already fucked up to think the rest of it.)

Anyway, love your writing. I mean, the things i imagened of batfam have a crossover with genshin or hsr became true by you. I never found a writer that made such a Batfam x Genshin/Hsr/Honkai impact one like you. Maybe later make a Ada Wong! reader x Batfam? Im sorry if i have a lot things to say. Thank you for reading this shitty words of mine. Rest well, may God bless you. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

omfg i was just about to start a draft on Arlecchino reader!!! but i wanted to wait for when our dear Father is out first so I can read her story, etc.

I’ll save the bulk of my ideas/fic for when I fully know her lore but this is what I got from the story quest.

The name Arlecchino was the most people got from digging information on you.

You were this mysterious entity among the notorious Fatui Harbingers. Neither vengeful nor greedy. Nor were you ever known to actively seek out blood outside of the Tsaritsa’s orders.

Your priority has and will always been the House of Hearth. Your children. You were never too far from them.

After one of the relics your master told you to obtain was destroyed, you were to punished by being forced to help with the next acquisition. The Crown of the Pyro Clan.

You were stationed in East America. Particularly Gotham for investigation.

An ordinary Wayne Ent. office worker by the day, mafia capo causing havoc by night.

You weren’t really taking your job seriously, so you were soon caught by Gotham’s finest.

And soon after that, their obsession.

God is Tim such a great pair for Arlecchino reader tho. I already see him drooling all over them-

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere core #batfam #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #tw yandere #yandere batfamily #dc #dc x reader #yandere dc x reader #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne

[cupidysm]

My Pen

Just a late birthday fic I wrote while I was bored. It has nothing to do with a birthday/birthdays. Just another fluff piece.

Shy!Steven Grant x gn!reader || masterlist || shy!Steven playlist

summary: Steven lands a chance to talk to a girl he’s been pining over.

content: fluff, hint of angst, swearing(once), mutual pining, awkwardness, it’s a QUICK read, no mentions of the system word count: 601

Steven didn’t know how it happened. It just… did. You showed simply out of the blue and ever since he saw a glimpse of you he was enamored. The way your eyes lit up as you observed the relics scattered throughout the museum made his heart pound. You were just so… interested every time you visited—something incredibly rare since most simply chaperoned on school field trips—barely ever out of pure enjoyment.

Then there you were again. The third time this week you had visited the museum, scribbling- no, note taking what you saw as you made your way past the different exhibits. Steven began to fill his mind with false hopes that you had visited for him.

Then again it could’ve been his shitty excuse of a sleep schedule.

Either way, he was practically buzzing with excitement at the sight of you… until you began to walk in his direction- but that was no problem, you could simply be making your way around one the glass exhibits in the center of the floor. They did place them terribly after all.

And then you entered gift shop area. Okay… maybe you were just perusing, looking around and then head back to your observations of the artifacts. Nope you were heading in his direction, staring at him with a sickeningly sweet smile. Steven began to panic, he could feel a cold sweat wash over him. His heart quickened and his hands began to shake.

“Hi,” You lean in to read his name tag before standing upright. “-Steven,” you smirk at the small accomplishment. “Do you have any pens that I could buy?” Your smile returns making the already existing butterflies in his stomach turn into bloody fireworks.

“I, uh… it’s.” He pauses realizing your look of confusion. “Oh bollocks.” Was all he could muster up. His embarrassment has risen to a ludicrous degree. All he has to do was answer a simple question about a pen.

You can’t stop a giggle from erupting. Steven should probably feel embarrassed by that, but his heart only swells with adoration at being able to actually hear the sound for the first time, not just from observing as you read the cheesy jokes about mummy’s attached to the plaques.

“So, a pen?” You ask with an awkward smile.

“Oh- right, right yes.” Steven fumbles to grab at a black pen, decorated with white polka-dots, in one of the cardboard holders before placing it in your hand. You scribble something quick to check the ink before reaching for your wallet, but Steven reaches out to stop your hand. You look up at him in confusion and Steven swears he could’ve fainted. The wide eyed look from behind your lashes were enough to send him to the after life and back.

“There’s really no need. It’s a pen. Well it’s uh my pen, but you can keep it.” he scratches the back of his neck, trying his hardest not to make eye contact.

His kind request throws you off. “Oh- well are you sure? I’d be glad to pay.”

Steven feels like a lovesick schoolboy. He probably is a lovesick schoolboy, but what’s stopping him?

Apparently everything.

He insists that you keep it and you take a step backwards, stopping yourself just in case he were to continue the conversation, but you eventually turn and walk away.

If only Steven had been just as observant of you at that moment as he had been for the past few days, maybe he would’ve seen the disappointment in your eyes when he didn’t call you back.

Because you had wanted to continue talking to him…

Perhaps just as much as he had.

#steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #steven grant angst #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #steven grant x you #moonknight