(this is my first time requesting, so i'm sorry if i'm doing it incorrectly in some way dkdksksj)
i don't have a very specific scenario in mind so you have total creative freedom, but i would really like to request some romantic x reader headcanons or oneshots with sampo, aventurine and sunday (all individually). especially sampo though... i love him a lot and there aren't that many fics of him lately. i absolutely love your writing so i know it'll be amazing! thank you and take care <3
What a Dangerous Thing, to Be Loved So Softly
Tags: Sampo x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Emotional Intimacy, Slow Burn, Found Family, Moral Grayness, Subtle Manipulation, Symbolic Gestures, Emotional Vulnerability, Bittersweet Tension, Psychological Depth.
Warnings: Emotional Manipulation, Trust Issues, Past Trauma, Survivor’s Guilt, Moral Ambiguity, Power Imbalance, Existential Themes, Deception, Unspoken Feelings, Subtle Possessiveness, Religious Trauma, Self-Isolation, Mentions Of Oppression.
A/N: Thank you for your kind words! I hope you like these silly and random hcs for these men. 🙏
Sampo calls you every term under the sun except your name: “darling,” “starshine,” “investor of my affections.” It’s unclear if it’s affection or a long con, until he slips and says your name during a moment of real fear.
His teasing is relentless—but only you ever get to see the guilt behind his jokes. When you're hurt or sad, he falters, his mask slipping just enough to reveal genuine concern… before backpedaling into “Well, I mean, I can’t have my best customer dying on me, right?”
Sampo is terrified of commitment, but even more terrified of losing the one person who sees him, not the performance.
He won’t say "I love you" outright. He shows it by giving you the real version of a story—the one without embellishment. He trades honesty like it’s a rare currency, and you're the only one rich enough to afford it.
Pillow talk with him is a chaotic blend of gossip, half-truths, and existential vulnerability. One minute he’s recounting a wild escape from the Silvermane Guards, the next he’s softly asking, “Would you still love me if I wasn’t funny?”
He has trouble sleeping, so he lays on your chest and counts your heartbeat like it's the only real thing in his world.
One day, he gifts you a trinket—a cheap thing by anyone else’s standard, but it’s his lucky charm, the one he swore he’d never part with. He plays it off: “Well, I figured it’s safer with you than me.”
You later catch him reaching for it during a dangerous moment, only to stop himself, remembering he gave it to you. His expression falters. “Guess I’m not used to trusting someone else with my luck.”
He’s used to seduction as strategy—smirking over cards, “accidentally” brushing your hand. But when you flirt back, it catches him off-guard. He stumbles, and it’s the most sincere thing you’ve ever seen.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling,” he says, voice low. “And you’re winning.”
He shares his real name, Kakavasha, only once. The moment is quiet, devoid of flair. He doesn’t explain why—he just says it and waits. If you say it back, his breath catches.
His left hand always hides behind his back during high-stakes moments. But when he holds your hand—left hand—he never lets go. It’s wordless trust.
He spoils you in calculated ways. Custom clothing, rare wines, antique books—always things that show he’s been watching, listening.
Yet he’s startled by your small gestures: you make him tea after a long day; you adjust his choker when it sits wrong. Those little things undo him far more than any grand gesture.
After a mission that goes sideways, you find him staring at his own reflection, drenched in blood, laughter long gone. When you touch his shoulder, he flinches—then leans in, forehead against yours. “If I lose you,” he whispers, “there’s no game left worth playing.”
Sunday approaches romance like a sacred thing, delicate and painful. He watches you with reverence, often lost in thought mid-conversation as if memorizing every expression.
You’ll catch his wings flutter when you surprise him with kindness. It’s a silent confession: you matter.
His idea of a date is philosophical. You’ll find yourselves walking under starlight discussing the nature of joy and sorrow, your hands brushing, his halo faintly pulsing behind him.
He speaks softly when he’s vulnerable. “Is it selfish,” he asks one night, “to want a future with you in it?”
He has terrible dreams—half-memory, half prophecy. When he wakes, shaking, he clutches your pillow, grounding himself.
One night, you find him in the observatory, wings drooping, eyes dim. “You remind me that I’m still alive,” he says. “That I’m not just... what the Order made me.”
Sunday struggles to believe he deserves love. But he lets you trace the symbols on his halo, kiss the feathers behind his ear, and hold him during those hollow moments.
He cries, silently, the first time you tell him you love him. And then, with a trembling voice: “I think I’ve been dreaming of you since before I even knew what hope felt like.”
...Y'know what? I think "morally gray" is about as useful of a term to describe characters as "Mary Sue." It's far too subjective and imprecise to have any real analytical value.
My little controversial take is that whether a character is perceived as a good or bad person has not much do with "media literacy" but by the reader/viewer/player own views on morality.
This does not mean "if you like bad character you're a bad person", nor that if you can rationalize a characters actions means you excuse them. Nor that seeing a character as anything other than morally gray takes away their nuance (Since when "well written" and "unambiguously bad person" can't overlap?).
But it does mean whether you see certain characters as monsters or not is influence by what things you see as redeemable, or how you think forgiveness and redemption shall be handled. Does redemption equals absolution? Does forgiveness truly heal what was done wrong? Maybe we both see this character as complex and well written, and disagree on where they stand morally because what's a redeemable flaw to you, isn't that much to me.
Looking for a She-Ra group RP that understands Hordak so that I can play a Horde signup OC w/o having to grit my teeth
Does anyone know of an RP server/forum/etc that gets Hordak? I just want to play my merchant-turned-Horde-signup Scorpioni OC in a world where Hordak isn’t “evil genocidal super active leader of the evil bad wrong Horde,” and maybe even a place where princesses are not universally seen as the best form of government. Post-S5 rebuilding maybe get to set up Etheria’s first democracy even.
If anybody wants to set up such a group RP somewhere, I would consider that too. I have at least 1 awesome fellow fan I can bring along.
Hell, even if there’s just a generally Entrapdak-friendly server out there...
(Sorry to put this in Entrapdak tag with no Entrapdak content but I’m not sure of a better way to find people with this outlook on the series.)
Today, a woman who sat next to me while I was reading said the following:
Her: “I liked The Girl on the Train. It was certainly better than anything I’ve read by Gillian Flynn”
Me: “What makes you say that?”
Her: “Well, I liked it much better than Gone Girl. I couldn’t tell who was good and who was bad in that!”
Me: “I think that was the point”
Her: “Well I didn’t like it. It was hard for me to follow.”
Most people I know like nuance and grayness in works, including me. It was extremely weird hearing someone say this out loud and in real life.
