── RULES. ──

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ᯓ if you are below the age of sixteen, please don't interact. all of my fics are sfw and will remain that way, but they do tend to involve topics not suitable for younger adolescents.

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ᯓ i do not take requests, nor do i write explicit content. my fics are usually borne of my own ideas—however, if you would like to send a suggestion/prompt/idea in, feel more than free to. i love hearing your thoughts <3

── ALL JJK WORKS. ──

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑. gojo satoru | currently undergoing editing.

this is how we cope.

knight au w 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮.

you use 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 as your personal makeup doll.

𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐌. gojo satoru | ao3 .

── ALL L&DS WORKS. ──

𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆. sylus | chapter 1 . ao3 .

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒. all love interests | ao3 .

girl dad 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 because i can.

pirate!sylus -> 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖’𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑.

warlord sylus -> 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓.

── ALL GENSHIN / HSR WORKS. ──

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 .ᐣ (reupload).

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ᐣ (reupload).

── TAGS / NAVIGATION. ──

#estrela answers . #estrela reblogs . #estrela's polls .

── ANONS ──

💛 anon . 🌧️ anon . the pregnant geto anon . the overly excited beggar anon . the rereader anon .

many of you expressed concern at my disappearance in june/july 2024, and that was due to my account being broken into and deleted. originally, i joined and began posting my fics in may 2024, but i made a new account soon after the deletion and i have reuploaded most of my works to tumblr and ao3 since july. thank you all for such kindness, and the continued support throughout the year. i am blessed to have such lovely readers as you all.

Sylus’s hands are so big, and hold you so gently, so firmly, so securely, while you tangle your fingers in his soft locks and tug him a little closer. As if you both aren’t about to practically fuse together from how there simply isn’t even a sliver of space left between the two of you. You reciprocate his impassioned kisses with a vehemence of your own, and you clutch that warm, solid body of his to you despairingly, like he’s your saving grace. Maybe he is. “Hm—Sy—mmph—can’t breathe…”

“Need you,” he simply breathes in reply, voice a deep, winded rasp. “God, sweetheart—hm—you’re so—”

Your bleary eyes meet his half-closed ones, hazy and dark and molten, but holding an undeniable gleam of adoration. It brightens those scarlet hues of his, usually so dim with the blood he’s spilled, giving a shine to them that isn’t commonly seen otherwise. Solely with you. He only ever looks at you that way. With a gaze only a jagged, fragmented man who has seen and done and suffered far too much is capable of.

It hollows out your chest and then replenishes it with warmth. Affection. Love. He’s all purity and candour. How can a man so sullied be so blameless? How did you earn his devotion, his commitment, in all its earnestness and sincerity? Sylus won’t stop kissing you. It’s like he can’t. It’s like it physically wounds him to part from you, and perhaps it drives deeper than the outward when it happens. His chest is heaving when he finally detaches his lips from yours with an audible smack, and his mouth hangs open, eyes staring up and at you with an intensity that roots you to the spot, puffs of heavy breaths softly gusting against your nape. “Ha…Ha…You—you okay, sweetheart?”

“…Yeah,” you eventually reply, slumping, limp all over, burying your face into his sweaty neck. Your head’s spinning, as it always is after a heated session with the man. Sylus’s shirt is all crumpled, half-unbuttoned, wide, toned chest peeping out from beneath the silky material. You’re not much different. “Just…need to catch my breath.”

One of his hands settles on the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles into your flesh. The other grasps your thigh, keeping you steady. “Too eager, was I?”

“You’ve been worse,” you snicker, perhaps a bit weakly, mouth throbbing. Your entire body is throbbing.

His head turns and he’s nuzzling your temple, burying his nose into your hair, kissing the crown of your head, as he chuckles too. “My apologies, sweetheart, but I fear I have zero remorse.”

“Of course you don’t.” You’re smiling into his nape. “Such a sentiment is nonexistent to you.”

“Uh-huh.” And you’re suddenly being lifted off his shoulder and onto the cushions beneath, his powerful frame looming above you, all broad shoulders and big arms and a toothy smirk. “That means there’s something here to continue, without remorse, right?”

You smack his upper arm, biting back a grin. “Shove it, you big oaf. You do realise we’ve got a meeting to attend.”

Sylus is nudging your collar with his nose, pressing soft kisses to your skin. “Eh.” His wide shoulders lift and lower with an indifferent shrug. “It can wait.”