Drying Ink on paper

random story prompts, ideas, dialogues. everyone is welcome whether you write, read or whatever.

[ramen-writes]

Intro

Hey there! Guess I'm finally doing this.

Lil bout me. I'm not a piece of ramen for those who might be wondering. Sadly I'm fully human.

The name comes from an old inside joke.

Just a girl, posting writing ideas because she has too many and if she can't write them then someone else should get to.

The main reason for this is to answer these questions:

Can I use these in my writing/art etc. ?

Yes. Unless I specify otherwise, 99.9% of the prompts or writing here is so you can be motivated and use them in any way.

In any case I publish my own writing it will be very obvious and specified in the first tag.

BUT I DO ASK THAT YOU DO NOT USE AI

Can I tag you if I use your prompt?

Do you need to? I guess not really.

But by moral obligation if you wanna PLEASE DO I WOULD LOVE TO READ YOUR WORK PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

I read every story or ideas in the tags and reblogs.

Do you take asks?

YES YES YES.

GImme ask. Gimme a prompt. I will write for you :3

Just no NSFW stuff or hate.

That's it for now :3

[ramen-writes]

Neurodivergent assassin who very casually uses their weapons as stim.

Turning on and off the safety of their gun. Tapping and spinning their dagger. Watching the poison in the vial move as they flip in and then back.

Nobody says anything because...well they're an assassin.

Turns on safety, presses trigger, turns off safety repeat.

People around them are in constant fear.

Chewing the end of their poison tipped dagger when they try to figure out a plan.

Wash their hands too much cause they don't like how sticky blood is.

However overtime it becomes a weird single to others.

Everyone is anxious trying to figure something out and they hear a little "click click" and it's just slightly calming to know that they have this person there and they are thinking of a plan.

Someone hands them a drink but it flows just a little too weird and they are like, "hmm that's poison" then chuck it because they have built up immunity.

No table that doesn't have something carved into it.

Never a situation where they don't have enough bullets because this person takes out the cartridge and puts it back as stim.

They take apart their guns and put them back over time being crazy fast and efficient with it.

Just give me a neurodivergent assassin/spy.

[meowcats734]

She would never claim to be the world’s greatest assassin, because anyone claiming to be the Blackblood Artist would be interrogated at minimum, executed at worst. But Teria Sannate had killed enough people with her dark brown brush and moleskin notebook to fill it end to end with the final moments of her victims. From the televised death of the ZC Group’s CEO to murdering the now-nameless God of Wrongful Termination for Preexisting Health Conditions, she had hunted down everyone who had been remotely involved in Kovan Sannate’s firing, and the subsequent cancellation of his pass into the ZC Afterlife. Out of fury at first, then helplessness, and eventually as a way to soothe the itch, no different than the way she nibbled her paintbrush handle or played tic-tac-toe on her forearms. 

She wasn’t stupid; she knew she was becoming a monster. It was too easy to plot a murder when all she needed was a drop of blood—a week of sniffing through garbage disposal routes, a month of sorting out rubbish, and she had everything she needed. Ilera Travoss was only human, after all; he suffered bloody noses in the summer. He also studied Tharic for a week before getting bored of throwing out unopened books, bought Equicare-brand food for his two dogs, and regularly had sex with a ghost that Teria was fairly sure was his deceased second husband. She beheld his life splayed out in three hundred and ninety-eight piles of refuse from the city dump, weighed the complexities and depths of his soul against the man who played Snail Salt with her on the trip home from school even when she made the same opening moves every time, and carefully painted the ZC Group’s mortal leader into the first page of an empty book. 

Ilera had never considered such quandaries, as far as she could tell. She had, in fact, never found anything connecting him to the firing of her father. She killed him anyway.

She was not turning into the very thing she despised—she no longer hated the afterlife insurance brokers or the foreman who noticed her father’s missing heart, and they were, after all, each committing only a hundredth of a murder apiece. She was something simpler, something able to recognize its soul was broken but not understand how. But the people on the television always said that power corrupted, that when you escaped consequences too long you twisted into something else, and sometimes, they stopped their murderous rampages when faced with someone they loved.

So Teria studied the New Starshire TACSEC Hub, where Kovan Sannate was held as a PoI in the Blackblood Case, because TACSEC wasn’t run by idiots and Teria had left her father’s firing as the most obvious link between the Blackblood Artist’s murder spree. Not the only one, which was why she was still a free woman; there were, apparently, hundreds of other people who would have grievances with some or all of her long list of victims. But Kovan Sannate had a daughter who was supposed to be at the Dannitel Station College pursuing a degree in Metaphysical Painting and was instead inexplicably missing; the circumstantial evidence had led to his confinement.

It was a good move, Teria had to admit. She survived because the way she related to the spirits of the world was largely unknown, and every move that the Blackblood Artist made in public was recorded and analyzed, taking TACSEC one step closer to capturing her. Especially now that the sixteen years her father had bought by selling his heart were almost up; if Kovan Sannate truly was of interest to the Blackblood Artist, all TACSEC had to do was keep their guard up for a few weeks longer and they’d have the fingerprint needed to put her in the dirt. Once they ID’d the spirits she communed with, they could interrogate or bug them and trace every use of her magic from New Starshire to the Gambledark. This would be her last move as a free operator.

She feared that, of course. But she needed to see her father again. And after that… there would be only one move to make, if she was strong enough.

As operations went, she planned the break-in as meticulously as any murder. Her first mission, therefore, was to form a contract with the specific spirits who lived in the TACSEC Hub’s paint job. Her affinity for artistry was known, and specific countermeasures taken; two visits to the local tax records office told her that Darrek & Sons had been paid around 36 thousand in redcoin and 12 thousand in brown to refurbish the building. After making a few thousand calls, swaps, and messages to various businesses around New Starshire, claiming to be worried about the Blackblood Artist’s powers and was it true that TACSEC themselves used Darrek & Sons to protect themselves, she had no fewer than six examples of what, specifically, Darrek & Sons considered adequate protection against the Blackblood Artist.

Grudgingly, she had to admit they were thorough. She had hardly been idle while waiting for one of her contacted businesses to bite; it had been the work of days to discover the specific brand of paint originally used in the TACSEC Hub, and days more to track down a sample from as close to the original batches as possible. Wasted effort, now; they didn’t simply repaint or plaster over the underlying layers, but took the time to meticulously remove and scramble as much of the original paint job as they could find before using an entirely unique concoction for each individual job, obliterating the remainder afterwards. But they thought like mages, not witches: even if the exact composition of each paint was different, the method used was identical each time. And although that was a weaker sympathetic connection, it was one that she could exploit.

So after purchasing the same twenty brands of paint and a mechanical mixer, Teria constructed an altar to the Deity of Randomly Choosing Six Paint Brands Out Of Twenty To Combine Into A One-Use Coloring. After swearing to make a painting she truly loved using only colors from the deity’s domain, she obtained an introduction to the Goddess of The Paint Currently Used In The New Starshire TACSEC Hub. 

She appeased both with a painting of her father in his youth. And with that, her contract was sealed.

It was a down cycle for New Starshire station when Teria walked to the TACSEC Hub. The atmospheric regulators filled the air with the antiseptic scent of freshly activated backups. Pale, weak sunslight recharged shrines to the Goddess of Humanity’s Star, nourishing the fragile vines and trees in the scattered druidic parks. Teria inhaled deeply, the scent of alcohol stinging the back of her throat.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” A lightly-armored TACSEC officer stepped out from deeper in the complex. The receptionist on duty must have contacted a guard; presumably, the spirits within the TACSEC Hub had already identified her. “Are you here to see your father? We have some questions for—”

The Blackblood Artist reached for her paintbrush, and only the guard’s precognitive implants saved them.

Wrist bracers flared to life, modules rotating into place as the guard’s lenses projected tactical data directly onto their retinas. Unfortunately for them, Teria’s contract with the God of UI was firm; two swapped icons was all it took for the guard to select Recall instead of Stun. The guard disappeared mid-imprecation, Teria dipped her brush in the suddenly-fresh paint of the wall, and the receptionist hit the city alert.

Teria had no contract with the God of TACSEC—TACSEC had patched that hole in their security with an exclusivity clause long before Teria had been born. So by drawing the TACSEC sigil in another god’s paint, she knew she was drawing the attention of a hostile deity to her location. A minor one, to be sure, but in any other circumstance she would already consider it an unacceptable risk to her cover.

But TACSEC first responders would be teleporting here in a matter of heartbeats, and her full spectral signature was likely already captured by whatever invisible spirits lurked in the walls. So she inked in the two upwards and one downward arrow that marked every TACSEC official’s clothing, and instructed the paint on the walls to smother anyone who bore that sigil.

Six separate teleportation methods marked the entry of the TACSEC reinforcements, all of whom were immediately swarmed by a tide of living beige. Four of the first responders were immobilized by the onslaught, their HUDs scrambling as Teria’s contracts shielded her. Of the two who were immune—an old-fashioned wizard and a blind woman that the God of UI was momentarily confused by—only one of them had the tools on hand to stop an amorphous, liquid foe. The blind woman sang a word in a language that would not exist for another two centuries, and the coat of paint swarming up her legs abruptly transformed into a wafer-thin coating of jade. 

Teria had, by this point, coated herself in the same cloak of paint that rendered every other person in the room a featureless grey blob. And against any other target, they would have been confused for at least a moment by the inability to tell friend from enemy. But the blind woman continued to sing, the echoes showing every corner of the room and beyond, and she hardly even seemed to notice the cloak meant to baffle her. 

“Yan,” the woman barked, and the coating of paint around Teria absorbed the spell meant to turn her to jade.

The blind choralist sang twice more as Teria struggled to shatter the casing of stone; in a portrait gallery far away, two breathtakingly realistic portraits of the Blackblood Artist abruptly flared green. The choralist changed tactics, drawing her sidearm and firing in a single, smooth motion—then cursing as the laser pistol sizzled in her hand. Teria had hardly come here without countermeasures for common pistols; any ruby which neared her would change color to a deep black, rendering conventional laser weapons useless. Taria took advantage of the momentary distraction to palm her paint knife and slash the exposed forearms of two of the TACSEC team who’d chosen to jump in without armor. Despite possessing no edge to speak of, the wedge of metal cleanly collected two neat little crimson beads; a careful observer would have noticed that the blood in their veins burst outwards, swirling around the paint knife like starlings to a tree.

“Sing and they die,” Teria calmly said, dipping her brush in their blood. 

The choralist’s lips twitched, but reluctantly, she jerked her head towards the paint-coated TACSEC crew. With a scent of ozone and a sharp pop, four more first responders materialized on site. All choralists, this time: standard procedure for an anomalous hostile was to send in a wide range of specialists and see who survived the longest, then reinforce that division until the problem was solved. It all but guaranteed that the forces of law would win… eventually. No matter what gods you were sworn to, what elements you understood, or what perspectives you internalized, there was always something that even the greatest archmage never saw coming. And all the power in the world did you no good if you didn’t know what to defend against. 

But conversely, TACSEC’s opening move meant there would be plenty of people who simply had no relevant outcome to a conflict’s resolution. And if someone was willing to piss off the military police, and had enough unprecedented firepower that they could not only survive but outmatch that initial wave… they could take those first responders captive.

“They can’t breathe, Artist.” One of the new choralists stepped forward. “Hostages are no good to you dead.”

Wordlessly, Teria smudged out the TACSEC sigil. The cloth she did so with blackened and sizzled, TACSEC’s patron deity glowering at the affront, but abruptly the shifting coats of paint remembered they were supposed to be long-dry and solidified. TACSEC officers broke out of the suddenly-still shells a heartbeat later, and the two that Teria blooded disappeared with another faint crackle.

“I’ve killed people behind the finest wards in existence,” Teria said, unflinching. “Distance changes nothing. You will listen to my demands, or your people will perish.”

The choralist who’d spoken earlier held up a hand, and the TACSEC team lowered their varied weapons. “Speak.”

“I am Teria Sannate, daughter of Kovan Sannate. In four hours, I will surrender to the TACSEC Department of New Starshire. I wish to speak with my father, unmonitored, if he will consent to see me. If my demands are not met, I will kill your two officers, as well as every civilian I have managed to collect in my palette. You have fifteen minutes to allow me free passage.”

The choralist narrowed his eyes, but otherwise showed no reaction. Somewhere far away, politicians and generals and operators were bickering and posturing and saving face.

Kovan Sannate upended the plans of every last one of them.

The door behind the receptionist flew open with a thud; Teria flinched and half the TACSEC team swiveled to face the newcomer. Pushing fifty and still spry, Kovan’s expression crumpled as he beheld his daughter.

Abruptly, the choralist flicked his wrist. The TACSEC team gave him a handful of askance looks at the hand signal, but all of them filtered out of the room. “It seems like you’re getting your wish, Teria,” the choralist said. “You have four hours.”

Teria let out a ragged breath, finally turning to meet her father’s eyes, and shuddered. He didn’t bite his lip like that when he was worried, or disappointed, or afraid.

That was the look of a father who knew he’d failed.

“...Hi, Dad,” Teria whispered.

“Hey, Teri,” Kovan said back. “Let’s talk.”

A.N.

Will continue this story with approximately weekly updates. If you want to get pinged when the next part comes out I have a discord here.

[ramen-writes]

"It's a part of me. Whether I like it or not. In case you forget, it's the only thing keeping me alive"

"Sounds like a terrible way to live"

"...It does, doesn't it?"

[ramen-and-books]

Hey writers, what was an idea for a story that you gave up on or never ended up doing anything with?

[ramen-writes]

Mine was basically you know the character that the main characters always end up finding because they are the only person who can give them certain information for their quests. And it's someone who doesn't want to talk about it and just wants to ignore everything and live life only for the characters to end up convincing him to tell them what they need to know?

Yeah it was basically about that character but it turns out that the person was basically one of the people who was sent on the quest to save the world at a young age to become a hero but they ended up failing or choosing to give up because he couldn't care more about the world than the people and sanity it meant losing, he'd rather spend his time with the people he cares about even if it was limited than try and save a stupid world that was never in his favor to begin with and lose them along the way so as a result of his decision the world ends.

He is punished for not going through the quest by being cursed with immortality, living multiple lifespans and every few centuries there's yet another group of teenagers who'll save the world again and they go to him for help.

The first few times he's annoyed, doesn't want to tell them anything, doesn't want to talk about it, curses the gods who put this curse in him. But over time he gets used to the appearance of random 16 year olds at his door every few centuries, he's still annoyed each time because it's a reminder of what he lost and all the what ifs of his first life but he goes through with it, getting it over with

And then there is this one trio of kids. It starts the same, 3 random kids show up at his apartment door looking confused, one is scolding the other that there's NO WAY that this is the right place. As always expecting a wise old man but it's just... HIM. Just a young dude who lives in a small apartment, works a 9 to 5 with extra hours because jeez the economy really changed in the last few centuries. The door opens and they're even more surprised to see someone who doesn't look that much older than them, physically at least, his eyes though, they look ancient.

He's annoyed but used to it. They ask him whether he knows a guy named [....] Already preparing to leave. He tells them it's him, invites them and is ready to give them the same speech he gives them all. Always the same questions, always the same answers.

So he does, he tells them what they want to know and then silence. The awkward silence isn't that new but it looks as though the kids want to ask something else. He gets them to spit it out so he can get back to bed and they ask him who he is. Whatever, every few centuries there are always a few annoyingly curious kids. He tells them it's none of their business and tells them to have a safe quest or whatever and leave.

But these kids don't stop. They're annoyingly absorbed by him, whoever he might be. He kicks them out politely (not that politely) but they don't stop. Instead of doing the quest they pester him, every time he's on his way to work, in the park for a walk, eating in his car in silence, THEY ARE ALWAYS THERE. It's to the point that he's starting to think this is a new level of his curse but no. They are annoying, yes but they don't necessarily bother him, they ask annoying questions, they pry into his life, eat the burgers he bought them because what the hell if you're gonna stalk him don't starve yourself. Where do you go at night anyways? No "figuring it out" is not a good response. And no the invitation to my house is not so you can stay. Yes you MUST leave for your quest. No I'm not joining, that's stupid.

So they stay at his place, and he's getting concerned. The last time he checked the kids were always on the clock to leave because of the limited time given to complete the quest. Why aren't these kids leaving?

So he asks them, and it turns out there IS a time limit and they are on the verge of missing it completely and destroying the world. He tries to make them leave, pulling out each and every reason why they should save the world, pulling stuff out of his butt that he doesn't believe about how the world is worth saving.

But these kids just don't want to. It takes him a while to understand that they are going through what he went through, they've been through things they shouldn't have, things that would turn anyone into a villian instead of being forced to fit the mold of a hero, they have no reason to save the world.

But he can't let these guys do that, not when he knows the outcome. So he tries and tries to talk them into the quest, into saving the world but he doesn't understand that he can't convince them of something he doesn't believe either.

So he comes up with a compromise, they save the world with his help (because he doubts they have enough time to do it on their own now) and after that he gets them ice cream and they figure out where they will live but he promised that no matter what happens they will find happiness, doesn't matter if it takes him years to help them find that happiness. HE WILL DO IT.

So they agree. It was easy, really at first. It wasn't much different from what he remembers, the looks of it sure but not the places and how they felt. The teenagers are amazed by how easily he solves each situation meant to trick them, and easily avoid traps.

They have late night talks and the more he learns about these teenagers the more it hurts his heart in a way that he didn't think he was capable of feeling, they feel too close to the home he thought he had forgotten. But they laugh too, he really laughs probably for the first time in centuries, teenagers tend to be stupid and annoying but so so hilarious.

God it's so fun, sometimes he walks into a deadly trap just because he was too busy laughing. He doesn't die obviously and the teenagers end up feeling horrible.

They ask him questions about his immortality, stupid questions really. Of ways there could be a loophole, but he tells them he's tried all the ways which is depressing to think about for a long period of time so they don't, instead they ask questions about how it feels to die in different ways.

( There's so much more where it goes further into the curse, people he lost, more about the teenagers, just how him helping them save the world might effect his curse, whether it's breaking the rules)

[ramen-writes]

"I- you're alive"

"In the flesh"

"You didn't think you tell me? Write a letter for god's sake!"

"I-"

"What? You couldn't? You-"

"No. I could. In fact I wrote to tell my team the moment I could"

"what? then why?"

"To tell you the truth I didn't think you'd care"

"I wouldn't care? I'm you're brother! Of course I'd care!"

"We years of our lives estranged from each other and pretending the other didn't exist. The moment our lives collide again we both stay quiet and never once mention that we were family so yeah I thought you wouldn't care"

"I thought you died. I mourned you. Of course I care "

"yeah well I guess I know that now"

"Next time, you tell me, okay?"

"pfft- you expect me to die again?"

"What can I say? You've always had a thrill for the dramatics"

"Oh please like you're any better"

"Whatever you say. Welcome back"

"...thank you. It's good to be home"

[ramen-writes]

That one character that goes from:

They're my family. We're of the same blood. We're family, family, family.

To:

DNA doesn't make family. Blood doesn't make family. Love does. And I have a family

[ramen-writes]

"Wh-why did you fail me? I was perfect, I can help. I'm stronger and more strategic than most of them. You can't deny that, after all I've done"

"You are. There's no denying it"

"Then why? Why stop me from becoming a hero.

"I... I couldn't trust you"

"what? Trust me?... How could you not- I want to help! You know that! I want to save people and I want nothing more than to help, I'm desperate to so why-"

"That is exactly why"

"What do you mea-"

"I could trust you to save the world, I simply couldn't trust you to not give yourself up to do it"

[ramen-writes]

"It's just...I always thought I'd have more time"

"I always thought I'd have a lot less"

"That's the thing isn't it? We want too much"

"Or expect too little"

[ramen-writes]

The villain is tired of having traumatized (mostly orphaned or worse) kids show up to defeat him.

Each time he is left flabbergasted at how a dysfunctional child is chosen to do the higher ups bidding.

It gets to the point that he just gives up being evil and adopts all of them.

Now he poses as a villain so the gods send these traumatized kids to him so he can adopt them all and take care of them.

[theblackparadeisdead]

Christ alive

[parasocialanxiety]

i love how only a FRACTION of these have any recognizable gendered cultural meaning and yet she has built that meaning in herself and keeps them completely separated

[aurpiment]

[lucybellwood]

You’re out here picking VESSEL and BELAY when you have the whole rich universe of maritime vocabulary choose from?

Say hello to my children FUTTOCK and HAWSE or simply do not say hello to me at all

[miseria-fortes-viros]

this is my crumbly daughter Nature Valleigh aaaaaaand you took her coat off and now she’s in pieces all over the floor. Okay

[ramen-writes]

Can I name my wip "written"

[ramen-writes]

We take the love we think we deserve but we also give the love we desperately want.

[ramen-writes]

"You possess magic? What kind"

"I hold control over all life and growth"

"wha- you're jesting, right? You possess magic that powerful and you're a farmer"

"Yes I am. I get crops here that the villagers can't have. It was a sad barren land. But look how it thrives now"

"It's... It's beautiful, it really is... but you're so powerful why be a farmer when you could be-"

"A mage? A hero? Some knight? No, I think I prefer this"

"Why? You could help so many"

"Why would I need to fight for some title to help the same people I can help while working my humble farm?"

"..."

"Why be a knight when the people need a farmer?"

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Terms of Endearment

List of various terms of endearment that can be used in different languages. A lot of them are gender neutral. Now in alphabetical order.

Afrikaans

Lief (love)

Liefie (lovey)

Arabic

Habibi حبيبي (m) (my love)

Ya hayati يا حياتي (my life)

Ya qalbi يا قلبي (my heart)

Ya ruhi يا روحي (my soul)

Hubbi/hobbi حبي (my love)

Czech

Zlato (gold, my precious)

Lásko (love)

Miláčku (dearest, little dear)

Danish

Skat (treasure)

Engel (angel)

Smukke (pretty/beautiful)

Elskede/elskling (beloved)

Kæreste (dearest and also used for the term girlfriend/boyfriend)

Snut (sorta like babe, a bit outdated)

Dejlige (wonderful)

Smuksak (beautiful but only for endearment)

Pus (cute pitiful thing)

Pusling (Pus in diminutive)

Musling (mouse diminutive)

Putte[animal] (cuddle[animal of choice], most used is: animal, mouse and pig, but other animals or objects happen)

Kære (loved one)

Allerkæreste (most loved, argumentative)

Basse (cute fat, might come from bear, mostly used for children and men)

Dutch

Schatje (treasure)

Liefje (loved one)

Lieverd (loved one)

Lieveling (loved one)

English

Dear

Pet

Baby

Babe

Honey

Darling

My love

Sunshine

Sweetheart

Sweet cheeks

Prince/Princess

Farsi

Joon/Jaan جان (life)

Azizam عزیزم (my dear)

Asalam عسلم (my honey)

Golam گلم (flower)

Filipino (from various local languages, all gender neutral)

Mahal, sinta (tagalog) (love)

alternatively add "ko" or "aking" to turn it into "my love" (e.g. mahal ko, sinta ko; aking mahal, aking sinta) with "aking" being used more often when talking about the one you love to a 3rd party;

or turn it into a verb (e.g. aking minamahal, kasintahan) to make it "lover"

Paraluman, irog, liyag, giliw (tagalog) (darling) these are older terms though, you won't hear or see them being used unless you're lovers with someone 🌟Extra🌟

Tangi (tagalog) (only one)

Tinatangi (tagalog) (the one i hold dear/the only one for me)

Tinadhana - fated (from the root word "tadhana" meaning fate, which in and of itself should also be a term of endearment and I stand by that)

Hinigugma (bisaya) (beloved) (very old)

Palangga/pangga/langga or "ga" for short and sometimes pagingging (ilonggo) (love) (can also be used platonically or between family members)

Kalasahan (tausug) (beloved) (this is pronounced with an emphasis in the SA syllable (as in kalaSAhan) instead of the LA like in the tagalog word LAsa (which means taste)

Jowa (filipino slang) (significant other/boyfriend/girlfriend)

Bebe, bebe ko, beh, bhe, bhie, bih (filipino slang) (babe)

Lablabs (filipino slang) (literally "love-love" in a heavy filipino accent)

French

Mon amour (my love)

Mon cœur (my heart)

Chéri (m) / Chérie (f) (darling)

Chou (used like "honey", but directly translates to cabbage)

Mon lapin (my bunny)

Ma vie (my life)

L'/amour de ma vie (love of my life)

Ma poupée (f) (my doll)

German

Liebling (beloved/favourite)

Schatz (treasure, I would say the most common one between established couples)

Liebes (loved one) (f, I don't find it that romantic)

Liebster (m) (loved one, bit old-fashioned)

Liebste (f) (loved one, bit old-fashioned)

Hase / Hasi (bunny)

Maus (mouse)

Spatz (sparrow)

Bär / Bärchen (bear)

Engel / Engelchen (angel)

Prinzessin (f) (princess)

Sonnenschein (sunshine)

Kleines (f) (little one, can be used in a cute way for women, but can also sound degrading or offensive)

Greek

Αγάπη /Αγάπη μου (love /my love) (the first can also be used among friends, usually between women, but both are very often used in romantic relationships)

Ψυχή μου (my soul) (mostly romantic but can be used by a parent to their kid)

Hebrew

Chaim sheli חיים שלי (my life)

Neshama sheli נשמה שלי (my soul)

Lev sheli לב שלי (my heart)

Hindi

Meri jaan मेरी जान (f) (my life)

Mera jaan (m/n) (my life)

Rani रानी (f) (queen)

Hungarian

Kedvesem (my dear)

Szerelmem (my love)

Drága (precious)

Édesem (my sweetie)

Kicsim (my little one)

Babám (my baby)

Kincsem (my treasure)

Indonesian

Sayang (to love/love, can be used as 'honey', doesn't have to be romantic)

Cintaku (my love, mostly used romantically)

Italian

Tesoro (treasure)

Amore mio (my love)

Cuore (heart)

Vita mia (my life)

Cucciola (puppy/cub) (mostly used for women, but you could say "cucciolo" for men)

Piccola (little one) (mostly for women, "piccolo" would be the male version)

Cara/caro (dear) (now mostly used by grandmas for grandkids but perfect for couples in the past or old couples nowadays

Bimba (f) (child)

Patata/patatina (potato/little potato) (again mostly women when used romantically, "patato/patatino" for men, but they can also be used for pets, babies, your kids or anyone that you find cute)

Tata/tato (short version of papata/patato)

Polpetta/polpettina (meatball/little meatball) (very uncommon, but I've heard it used for girls)

Topolina (little mouse) (very uncommon, but could be used for girls)

Bambola (doll)

Korean

Jagiya 자기야 (honey/baby)

Aegiya 애기야 (baby/little one)

Gongjunim 공주님 (f) (princess)

Wangjanim 왕자님 (m) (prince)

Nae Sarang 내 사랑 (my love)

Gwiyomi 귀요미 (cutie)

Yeobo 여보 (darling, loved one to a spouse)

Malay

Sayang (dear/darling)

Polish

Kochanie (my beloved)

Myszko (f) (little mouse for women romantic, or for young daughters)

Misiu (m) (diminutive bear, romantic for men)

Misiaczku (another form of the above but more intersex)

Słoneczko (diminutive for sun, can be for children but also romantic for women)

Pączusiu (diminutive doughnut, romantic partner)

Bąbelku (bubble diminutive for young children, toddlers or infants)

Duszko moja (very outdated, meaning my soul, for women)

Serce moje (also old school, meaning my heart, unisex)

Gwiazdeczko (diminutive star, for girls and romantic female partner)

Kotek/Kotku (kitten, unisex)

Mała (literally: little (f), for women, can be romantic but also offensive if used by strangers)

Skarbie (my treasure, unisex)

Rybciu (diminutive for fish, little fish, for women)

żabko (diminutive for frog, little frog, for women)

Portuguese

Meu querido (m)/ minha querida (f) (my darling)

Meu amor (my love)

Princesa (f) (princess)

Meu docinho (my sweetheart)

Coração (heart)

Amado (m)/Amada (f) (my love)

Meu (m)/ minha (f) mais que tudo (my above overall) Meu tesouro (my treasure)

Paixão (passion)

Meu bem/ meu benzinho (my goodness)

Meu doce/meu docinho (my sweet/ my little sweet)

Brazilian Portuguese

Amor (love)

Querido (m) / Querida (f) (darling)

Bebê (baby)

Meu bem (untraslatable; something between "my dear" and "my treasure")

Meu docinho de coco (my coconut candy - really old slang, nowadays used only for fun)

Patroa (f) (it means a female boss; not ironic not aggressive, but used by men to describe their wives affectionately, eg. "I can't go today, my patroa is waiting for me at home")

Gato/gatinho (m) / gata/gatinha (f) (cat/little cat; if a person is pretty, they are called a "cat")

Minha vida (my life)

Meu xodó (my crush)

Bebê (baby)

Docinho (sweetie)

Chuchu (honey)

Fofura (cutie)

Querida (dear)

Lindinha (beautiful/cutie)

Meu anjo (my angel)

Mozão or Mor (love, more like slang)

Romanian

Iubi (Sweet heart/darling)

Iubirea mea (my love)

Draga mea (f) / Dragul meu (m) (my dear)

Dulceața mea (jam/honey)

Russian

lyubov' moya / любовь моя (my love)

radost' moya / радость моя (joy of mine)

dusha moya / душа моя (my soul)

schast'e moyo / счастье моё (my happiness)

sokrovishche moyo / сокровище моё (my treasure)

solnyshko / солнышко (sunny)

zolotce / золотце (golden)

lyubimyj (m) + lyubimaya (f) / любимый + любимая (beloved)

dorogoj (m) + dorogaya (f) / дорогой + дорогая (darling, dear)

milyj (m) + milaya (f) / милый + милая (dear but in more informal way)

kotik / котик (kitty) malysh / малыш (baby)

zajchik (m) + zajka (f) / зайчик + зайка (bunny)

ptenchik / птенчик (little bird, hatchling)

rybka moya (f) / рыбка моя (my fish)

Slovak

Zlato / zlatko (gold)

Láska (love)

Miláčik (bit cheesy, but means my lovely)

Spanish

Cariño (darling)

Bebé (baby)

Corazón (heart)

Mi amor (my love)

Mi vida (my life)

Cielo (sky)

Amor (love)

Swedish

Sötnos (cute nose)

Älskling (darling)

Tamil

Kanmani [cun-mun-ee] (darling)

Turkish

Aşkım (my loved one)

Canım (my love/soul)

Hayatım (my life)

Bebeğim (my baby)

Kocacığım/karıcığım

(my husband/my wife, but in a more endearing way, you can say it to a person you're not married yet but thinking about marrying)

Her şeyim (my everything)

Yaşama sebebim (my reason to live)

Ceylanım (My gazelle, it's a gorgeous creature like cmon)

Güzel gözlüm (My lover with beautiful eyes)

Nazlı yarim (My coy lover)

Kalbimin sahibi (the owner of my heart)

Güzelim/yakışıklım (my beautiful/my handsome)

Kediciğim (my kitty/kitten)

Biriciğim/bi'tanem (my one and only)

Çiçeğim (my flower)

Balım (my honey) (can also say "bal dudaklım (my lover with honey lips)" if you feeling on fire)

Evimin direği (literally meaning "the post of my house," if you say this to a person (usually your husband), you mean to say that he keeps your household/family up, whether financially or with emotional maturity)

Ukrainian

Mostly romantic:

зіронька [zironʹka] (star)

мій світ [miy svit] (my world)

моє життя [moye zhyttya] (my life)

моє серденько [moye serdenʹko] (my heart)

коханий [kokhanyy](m) /кохана [kokhana] (f) (my beloved one)

милий мій [mylyy miy] (m) / мила моя [myla moya] (f) (my dear one)

любий мій [lyubyy miy] (m) / люба моя [lyuba moya] (f) (my loved one)

мій єдиний [miy yedynyy] (m) /моя єдина [moya yedyna] (f) (my only one)

Mostly between friends:

сонце [sontse], сонечко [sonechko] (sun, sunshine)

пташка [ptashka] (f) (birdie)

душа [dusha] (soul)

друг (m)/ подруга (f) моєї душі [druh (m)/podruha (f) moyeyi dushi] (a friend of my soul)

Urdu

Meri jaan میری جان (my life)

Pyaari پیاری (sweetheart)

Shahzadi شہزادی (f) (princess)

Welsh

Cariad (love)

Let me know more terms of endearment in your languages! And please correct me if I'm wrong somewhere.

Please note that they are not all romantic. You can ask in the replies, so a native speaker can answer if it's appropiate for the type of relationship you want your characters to have.

[ramen-writes]

"We need you out there with us! You're our leader! Your powers are needed"

"My powers are dangerous"

"They are powerful"

"Too powerful"

"I don't get it! You created this team to help others! I don't understand why-"

"No! I created this team so when my powers finally overtook me they'd be someone to stop me!"

"...what?"

"I'm not a good person. I'm a ticking time bomb. But you are. All of you are good people. You all are heroes. That's why I made this team. I can trust you all to do the right thing when necessary"

"But- no. You said you formed this team to create heroes. To help others. To keep the world safe"

"and none of that was a lie. But when keeping the world safe includes fighting me, when I can no longer keep this power at bay. I trust you to fight the good fight"

[ramen-writes]

"I hate you"

"The feeling's mutual"

"But.....there's a piece of me that misses a piece of you"

"...like I said. Feeling's mutual"

[ramen-writes]

"I trusted you. And I'll do it again. I'll never not trust you"

"Excuse me?"

"You can come to me, tell me you've changed and I'll trust you"

"That's stupid, even for you"

"You're my brother. It's the least I can do"

"I've betrayed you time and time again"

"and I'll continue to give you that opportunity. You'll know that each time you say you've turned a new leaf I'll believe you"

"I'll betray you again. I'll use you"

"then you shall. As long as you know I'm always here, that I believe you are not inherently evil. You are not unsalvageable. As long as you know, I'll continue this"

"That's madness"

"I've heard love is often described as such"

"You don't love me"

"you're my brother of course I do. And as such I know that you are not who you pretend to be. It's only a matter of time, and I'll always be here"

"You will die before that happens"

"Then I shall die believing you will turn to me"

[ramen-writes]

"Every story, every lesson, every moral is about being more human. But I don't want to be more human, because every instance I've been human it's led me astray, gotten me hurt, led me to just more pain"

"It led you to me"

"....it did. And that's why I can't help but wonder...."