#{ way-too-long ooc details under the cut }

[kazuhaiku]

love story

summary: kinich makes a surprise visit to fontaine and wants to spend the entire day with you, no excuses.

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff, might be ooc kinich (it's just my interpretation on his personality as of now).

notes: silly little kinich fic as my first post >< reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

“kinich!” you exclaim from the hunters’ guild, a huge smile on your face as you see him walking towards you, a nonchalant look on his face as usual. “hey! i didn’t know you were visiting fontaine. you should have told me!”

“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i tell now would it?” kinich replies, ajaw beside him nodding in agreement. “what are you doing in the hunters’ guild? did you receive a new commission?”

“mhm,” you hum in reply. “lumine and paimon are taking a day off so i’m taking over their commissions for today!” you hand him the list of commissions that are currently available to do and you swear you can see a faint glint of disappointment in his eyes when he sees how many commissions there are to do. “i’m-”

“let me help.” kinich abruptly cuts you off. “you’ll get this finished faster when i’m helping. i’m allowed to help, right?” his eyes flicker over to katheryne who is smiling amusingly. 

“yes of course, if that’s okay with y/n?” katheryne eyes you knowingly. despite katheryne being a robot, she has a clear understanding of the tension between you and kinich (a little too well, if you must say).

you clear your throat. “oh um- yeah of course you can help!” kinich smiles at your answer. he keeps the piece of paper containing the commission details inside his pocket.

“come on, no time to waste. we have lots of things to do today.” kinich exclaims almost excitedly, and you can’t help but wonder what plans he’s got for you today (because why else would he come all the way from natlan to fontaine?).

kinich indeed wasted no time because as soon as there was a fight, he jumped straight into it, killing the enemies almost instantly. before you know it, the commissions are all done hours before your predicted finish time.

kinich wipes the sweat away from his forehead, acting as if he didn’t just do all the commission for you. he turns around and gives you a big smile. “we’re done now, yeah? you’re finished with work?”

“um, yeah…” you stare at kinich as if he just ate a spider.

kinich tilts his head to the side. “what? why are you staring at me like that?”

“no it’s just,” you let out a small laugh, suddenly finding kinich’s actions a bit funny. “aren’t you acting a bit too… desperate?”

“d-desperate?” kinich stutters, a red hue filling his cheeks. “i don’t- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you raise your eyebrows. “really? so you did all my commissions in under ten minutes, used every single teleport waypoint instead of exploring the land like you always do, and made me watch you do the commissions instead of letting me help?”

kinich’s cheeks turn darker as you speak, and he immediately covers his face, as if his plan has been busted. “okay, you’re right. i’m… desperate.” he removes his hand from his face, pulling you into a tight hug. “i missed you so much, okay? my work lasted much longer than i had expected, and there was no time for me to write a letter to you.”

you can practically hear the pout in his voice. you gently pat his back, consoling him. “i missed you even more, kinich. how long has it been since we last met?”

“four weeks.” kinich says almost instantly.

you hum. kinich lets go of you, however, one of his hands is still holding one of yours tightly. he doesn’t say anything, and only focuses on caressing your hands, as if you are going to disappear when he lets go.

“kinich,” you call out, and his head whips up. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” kinich sighs. “i had so many plans for us today but now i can’t even think of what we should do first.”

“well, considering i- we finish the list of commissions earlier than i had expected… why don’t we start from the top of the list?” you suggest. kinich’s eyes lit up, however, there is a glint of confusion behind it. “of course i know about the list. we’ve been dating for, what, four months now? i know you keep a list whenever we go out.”

kinich makes a sound of surprise and he lowers his head, slowly grabbing the piece of paper from his pocket. he hands it to you silently. “you know me too well, y/n.”

you smile, opening the paper. there aren’t many things on the paper, considering that he listed only five things; explore the court of fontaine, stop by the cafe there and have a nice little coffee date with y/n :), ride the aquabus (seems like fun), visit the opera epiclese, visit the chioriya boutique and gift y/n an outfit!

“wow…” you gasp in awe. “chioriya boutique? how’d you know i like her outfits?”

“remember the letter we last sent out to each other?” kinich asks and you nod. “well, you briefly mentioned her. how you love the outfits she makes and you made a little note on the side saying how you really want an outfit from her but you don’t have enough mora to buy one.”

“that- kinich that letter was probably sent a month ago! how do you still remember that?” you ask, surprised that he remembers the small detail.

kinich only smiles in response. “well, no time to explain. come on, let’s ride the aquabus! i’ve been dying to ride them ever since i got here.”

he pulls you and starts running, almost making you tumble. well, since he’s really excited, you can’t really complain. a happy kinich is a sight to behold.

[suntoru]

─ ✰ LOVER’S CURRENCY!

✧˚ · . ITOSHI SAE’S sneaky way he shows he cares!

— warnings: fluff, crackfic, whipped sae, maybe ooc?

— author’s note: guys this is my first bllk work please spare me, comments and tags are very much appreciated!

“itoshi sae.”

you cross your arms with a pout, hovering over him intimidatingly as he peels one eye open, lazily draped over the couch.

“hm?” he cocks his head slightly, a ghost of a smirk tracing over his lips. sighing in exasperation, you attempt to reassert your point by rather agressively squishing his cheek with your finger.

“you did it again.”

“did what?”

it’s infuriating. he’s feigning ignorance, choosing to act clueless when you know he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

the edges of his lips are the slightest bit upturned, a faint twinkle of mischief in his eyes, subtle details easily missed by the casual onlooker. but with you, he’s an exposed canvas, an open diary— you can read him like a book.

“don’t play dumb, sae, it’s not funny!” you whine, digging in your purse pocket, and grabbing your wallet to pull out a shiny, black credit card— his. you hand him the card, wordlessly demanding him to take it back. but of course, itoshi sae wouldn’t be itoshi sae without the theatrics— eyeing the card smugly as he gives it a once-over.

“that doesn’t look like mine.” you roll your eyes, done with his shenanigans as you huff in mild annoyance. seriously, he acts like such a child sometimes.

“how many times have i told you i can pay for things myself? and i want my card back too.”

this time, he’s the one to pout.

“don’t wanna.”

you’re about to retort something back when he pulls you closer by your waist, earning a yelp from you as you crash on top of him, letting out a small ‘oof’, his long limbs trapping you in place.

“what the— sae!” you grumble, and although it’s half-assed, you choose to squirm in his arms, still rather annoyed at his (endearing) habit of deceiving you into spending his money. still, he snuggles into you, letting out a small sigh of discontent as you keep wriggling around.

“would you stop that?” he scowls slightly, although he’s not really mad. “‘m trying to get comfortable.”

begrudgingly, you surrender to the warmth of his embrace, relenting to the pull of his affectionate cuddles, but not without flicking his forehead childishly first. he huffs brattily, but all complaints disappear as he feels your arms slinking around his neck, nuzzling into his chest.

“i hope you know i’m e-transferring you your money back.” you mumble under your breath as he delicately traces shapes on your skin. he abruptly stops, prompting you to look up at him in confusion.

you don’t expect him to suddenly jab at your sides sides, playfully assaulting your stomach as he continues his onslaught, generating a shriek of giggles and pleas to stop from you. you kick and squeal, but his grip is like iron, targeting all your ticklish spots.

“s-sae, please, i didn’t mean, i-it, i swear—”

you manage to gasp out, completely pooped out from laughing so hard, and after five, long, painful minutes, he finally relents, allowing you to catch your breath as you glare at him, face flushed, panting heavily as you attempt recover from his utterly ruthless attack.

“i swear, if you weren’t so pretty-” you start, but you’re cut off by a rare laugh. small, yet entrancing all the same. his eyes crinkle, letting out a tiny chuckle as he gazes at you with pure adoration in his crystalline teal eyes. your heart races in response, the sheer sweetness of the moment causes you to liquify into a puddle.

…you suppose it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you let him get away with it just this once.

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[poetryandfluffycats]

OKAY. since reqs are open uhm would you write madara cucking kuro plz...

like literally fucking fem!reader getting fucked, kuro's clothed boner pressed to her cheek while he kinda js sits back in shock and doesn't know what to do while mama is fucking her rrroughhhh and is like "you like my cock that much? kuros right there you'll make him angry" and shit. idk DOES THIS MAKE SENSE but yeah 🫶🏻

-🍓anon

A/N: I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE PLOT OMG SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I hope it's too ur liking I may have gone off the rails a little bit....

Pairing: Kuro Kiryu x fem!reader x Madara Mikejima

Content: Madaras into you, everyone and their dog knows that. Only problem is, you have a boyfriend.

Warnings: NSFW, dub-con, slut-shaming, oral sex(f receiving), cuckolding, dry humping, sexual harassment(?), mentions of cheating, established relationship with kuro, ooc madara(?), they're both ooc tbh💀, porn with plot

Words: 2.1k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Have Him Watch?~

It was no secret that Madara had a thing for you. He had made his advances-both romantic and sexual alike-very obvious to you and everyone else, not even hesitating to flirt with you right in front of your own boyfriend, Kuro.

Kuro wasn't the type to let himself fall into petty jealousy, he knew you loved him and that nothing would never change that. Therefore, he hardly batted an eye whenever Madara made another stuipd comment about your body, or when his hands would linger for just a bit too long. It was better to simply ignore him and wait for Madara to get the hint. Kuro knew he was strong, but to pick a fight with Madara? Death wish.

So, he didn't aggravate him in any way, letting the bigger man do this thing until he realised he had no chance with you. Which is why he was confused when Madara cornered him in the gym one day, his teeth gleaming in his signature smirk.

"Kuro! My friend, my pal! Got a minute?" He beamed, slinging his arm around Kuros shoulders and pulling him in close, squeezing so hard you'd think he was trying to suffocate him.

"Uh, I'm a bit busy right now" Kuro pushed him off, dusting himself off and returning his attention to the weights he had been lifting. "Maybe later"

Madara smile didn't waver, if anything it only grew in size. Clearly, he had no interest in leaving anytime soon, not even when Kuro desperately wanted him too. Whatever Madara wanted from him, he didn't have the time for it. Not now, hopefully not ever.

"Ah, cmon! It'll only take a second!" He chirped, plopping down on the bench beside Kuro, crossing his legs and watching as the redhead started his reps. "Hey, working hard or hardly working, am I right? Hahaha~"

"Out with it, Mikejima" Kuro grunted, resisting the urge to smash his weights straight in the mans face. All he wanted was a peaceful workout, was that too much to ask for?

Madara laughed, waving his hand dismissively as if to clear the tension. "Always so blunt, I've always liked that about you y'know!" He grinned, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "So, you and (name), huh? How serious have you gotten with her? Is it marriage?"

Now he was just starting to piss him off. How was this any of his business? Sure, you and Madara were friends, but where did he get off asking for details about your relationship?

"She's my girl, yeah" Kuro answered, praying that his short replies would deter him from the conversation. If that was even possible.

"Right, right. And just hypothetically, if she were to cheat on you, would you be mad?"

Kuro tighten his grip on the weights, his knuckles turning white at the strain. "What are you getting at? You trying to start something?" He said through gritted teeth, shooting a glare in the brunettes direction.

Madara chuckled, putting one hand up in defence and using the other to playfully slap Kuro on the shoulder-a gesture that he did not appreciate, might I add. "Woah! Easy, I don't wanna fight ya! I'm just curious. Hey, maybe you'd let her cheat on you, I don't know what you're into!"

Kuro dropped the weights, the metal making a loud 'clunk' sound as they hit the floor, causing the other members of the gym to look over and stare at the two. Not that he gave a damn, oh no. Not when this clown was making a scene. How dare he suggest you would have an affair? Was he out of his mind?

"What's wrong with you? Of course I'd be mad, what makes you think I'd be cool with that? Get lost man" He spat, shoving him aside as he rose to his feet. The blood rushing through his veins felt as if it was burning as he sped away, not wanting to spend another second with such a fool.

What even was that? Kuro had gotten used to Madaras teasing and loud personality. Hell, he'd even grown to enjoy it to an extent. But this was just insulting. Why was he even saying those things? Did he know something Kuro didn't? Had you....

No, that was silly. You would never be unfaithful, that just wasn't you at all. Yet here he was, images flooding his mind of you tangled in Madaras arms, both of your bodies sticky with sweat and cum as you screamed his name. It was disgusting.

But so, so hot.

Shit.

/-----

You and Madara were friends. It was normal for friends to hang out alone in each other's bedrooms, even if they were the opposite gender, right?

Yeah, of course it was fine! Who were you kidding, it was perfectly acceptable.

You two were good friends, the best of friends! So it was normal for him to hug you, to wrap his arms around your waist from behind and pull you closer. He was a touchy person, after all. It was totally okay for him to nuzzle into your neck and inhale the smell of your perfume, to pepper kisses all over your jawline, to grind his erection against your ass-

Wait a minute.

"H-hey! What are you doing?" You yelped, squirming around in his grasp in a feeble attempt to escape his hold. It didn't matter how close you were, there was no way you'd be comfortable with this!

"What's wrong?" He cooed, your wiggling only seeming to excite him further as he continued his humping. "Friends cuddle all the time! Or are we not friends anymore?"

"This isn't cuddling! This is-ah! This is, oh fuck! This is sexual harassment, you perverted fuck!" You cursed yourself for allowing your voice to crack, letting those dreaded moans spill out like you were some whore who enjoyed this. Which, of course, you didn't! You didn't like it, right? Dammit!

"Sexual harassment, huh? If that's what floats your boat" Madara chuckled, pushing his hands past the hem of your skirt, groping the soft flesh of your thighs.

You squirmed around, hitting at his chest and clawing at his arms. It was no use, damn him and his muscles! In this position all you could do was stand there and take it, because in all honesty, you knew that no amount of protesting would get him to stop. Even of you did get away, it wouldn't be for long, Madara was as stubborn as ever and you knew for a fact that he wasn't afraid to use force to get his way.

You just didn't realize that part of him would ever show itself to you.

"Kuro. Kuro will be home soon, and he'll-ah! He'll kick your ass!" You threatened, snapping your head around to glare at the man behind you. Using Kuro as a form of defence probably wasn't the best idea, but it was your last resort. Begging and trying to fight back certainly didn't work against Madara.

He just laughed. "Maybe we can have him watch"

"What do you-"

A sudden knock at the door cut you off, the familiar voice of your beloved boyfriend coming from behind it. "Uh, (name)? Do you have someone over? Why's the door shut? Can I come in?"

Oh fuck. No!

It suddenly dawned on you just how horrible this would look to Kuro, you pinned against another man with his hands up your skirt? Anyone would think you were a cheating whore! No matter how much you tried to explain the situation, it would still look the same. You had dug your own grave by even letting Madara come over!

Madara pressed his lips to your earlobe, nipping on the soft flesh and whispering lowly, "Do you want me to stop?"

Yes! No! Maybe?

God, why did it have to feel so fucking good?

"Babe? I'm coming in"

"Wait-ah-no! Don't-"

Too late.

The door swung open, the face of your wide-eyed and shocked boyfriend sending a wave of guilt down your spine. He looked at you, then Madara, then you again, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out, only surprised mumbles and stutters.

You honestly couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, confused, aroused, maybe a mix of all three? And it didn't help that you were unaware of what emotions you should have been feeling either. Should you scream for help, or moan in pleasure? Push Madara away or pull him closer?

"Kuro... this isn't..." You started, trailing off when you glanced over the very obvious tent in the redheads jeans. Oh. Oh shit.

So he was aroused by this? What even was this? Some twisted form of roleplay? A fetish that the two men discussed that you didn't know about? Did Kuro actually like this, or was his body reacting subconsciously?

Either way, you didn't have much time to think about it before Madara picked you up from under your thighs and tossed you onto the bed like a ragdoll, wasting no time in climbing in between your thighs and nuzzling his nose into your panties.

"Mm~ You smell so good" He purred, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure to your core, a gasp mixed with a whorey moan leaving your lips at the feeling.

The redhead in the doorway cleared his throat, footsteps echoing in the room as he made his way over to where you lay on the bed. He sat down beside you, a hand coming out to gently stroke your cheek. It was a soothing action. One that might have made your heart melt if there wasn't another man currently lapping at your panties like a starved dog.

"Is this okay? I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first.." He apologised, his face flushed pink and his lips turned upwards into a small smile. "Just tell me if your not enjoying it and I'll kick him out, alright? That's okay?"

You gulped, then nodded, bringing your own hand up to hold his as you squirmed around on the mattress, your mind slowly but surely becoming goo at the pleasure spreading through your veins.

"Ah!- I don't know"- Madara looked up at you with those big brown eyes, choosing that moment to flatten his tongue against your clothed clit, making a show of slurping and smacking his lips together -"f-fuck yes! Oh god, please!"

With consent finally granted, Madara hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down in a second and diving straight into the heat of your pussy. He flicked his tongue up and down, side to side, round in circles and everywhere he could possibly reach inside of you.

Anything to make you scream his name, and scream his name you did. You threw your head to the side, falling into Kuros lap, as he brushed over that one spot, a spot that not even Kuro had reached before.

"Shit! Right there! Ah-ha~ Madara" You cried out, wrapping your legs around his head in a death grip, shoving his tongue even further inside you. "So good!"

He pulled his tounge out of your wet hole, opting to swirl and flick it over your clit. You withered and squirmed around on the bed, griping onto the sheets as hard as possible. The knot in your lower belly was starting to build, and both Madara and Kuro could tell. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire under Madaras touch, every inch of your body begging for release.

It just felt so good. So, so, so good-

"Ah-gonna cum!"

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your lips parted and you were panting so heavy you barely had enough breath left in your lungs to moan or even scream. Juices splattered all over the face of the man in between your legs, dripping down his chin as he drank it up like it was the finest wine in the world.

Madara pulled away from your swollen cunt, climbing up onto the bed and hovering above you, leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss.

"Aren't you a little slut, huh? Getting off on my tongue while your boyfriend watched? You came so quickly, does he not treat you right?" He cooed, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes.

Kuro, who had been dead quiet the whole time, finally spoke up. "You didn't have to be so rough with her" He grumbled, stroking the top of your head.

Madara huffed, a grin tugging at his lips. "She loves it! Don't you know what your own girlfriend likes?" He rolled his eyes before returning his attention back to your blissed-out form. "Ready for more, sweetheart?"

[themagical-soup-spaghetti]

A/N: This is such a fun idea I love it and I'm doing it <⁠(⁠￣⁠���⁠￣⁠)⁠>

Clay x male!reader x Branch

Summary: Reader has attracted the attention of Clay AND Branch, neither brother knows that the other likes reader. Clay tells Viva that he likes reader, and Branch tells Poppy, both Brozone members are to nervous to tell reader on their own, so Viva and Poppy go to each other to ask for help planning a blind date, just to hear that the other was trying to do the same thing. This starts a problem, because both Viva and Poppy think that their respective Brozone member is the perfect person for reader and they will not budge, so they go back to Clay and Branch and tell them the news.

Warnings: Two people in love with Y/N, Clay n Branch are shy, Y/N has to make a decision on who he wants to date, slight ooc trolls (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠)

Extras: I will write two follow up fics on where you choose Clay, and where you choose Branch. If you guys want, I can also write a follow up fic on where you choose neither of the two brothers who are fighting for you!

A/N: Now let's begin!!

Clay was staring. Not just at any random thing, he was staring at him. The man of his dreams, the one he's liked since not even Viva knew when. Y/N. He was reading, something that he did pretty often, it was some action or romance of mystery book that Clay couldn't care less about. But... It was Y/N, the man he did care about.

So he offered to read the book too so Y/N could have someone to talk to about it, and Y/N was less to say, over the moon about it. And that's what Clay wanted, so he watched as Y/N read the book. The two agreed to read up 3 chapters every week and talk about them every Saturday. Clay already blazed through them, but Y/N liked to take his time, noting every detail he found amusing, or sad, or anything of the like, in a notebook. He then rambled on and on about them every Saturday.

With Branch, on the other hand, they go on walks, or just do anything outdoors. They go on hikes together, sit by the water, sit in trees, sit BY trees, basically anything outdoors, Branch and Y/N enjoy them together.

That's not even necessarily saying that they talk every time they go out, or that the two even interact after the "hi" when they first meet up, and the little small talk they make before falling into a silence.

The tree leaves rustle from side to side, the ground crunching under their feet, the smell of fresh grass or the salty sea. The beautiful views the two see. It calms Y/N down tremendously to see the views, and he gets enjoyment from spending time with Branch. So it was no surprise that Branch had fallen for him not long after they started their little adventures together.

Now the problem was, neither brother knew that the other likes Y/N. And when the two brothers told their respective sister about it, the sisters vowed to set them up on a date with Y/N. Here's how those interactions went.

Clay

"So you're telling me that you..... Like, Y/N?" Viva raised a brow as she repeated Clay's words back to him. She wanted to be completely, 100% sure about what she heard.

Clay just nodded, his face turning a deep shade of red (or teal if you want to imagine them as actual trolls!) Viva stared at him for a couple seconds; silent, blinking. Then her smile grew wide.

"That's amazing, Clay!!! You two would be like, such a perfect match!" Viva spoke way to cheerfully, "Me and Poppy will come up with the perfect date for you two!!"

And before Clay could object, Viva ran off to find Poppy.

Branch

Branch started at Poppy while she took in what he had said, that he liked Y/N. Poppy was to silent for Branch's liking, and he opened his mouth to speak but Poppy cut him off.

"That's amazing, Branch!! I'm so happy for you, can I set up a date for you and him? Please, please pleaseeee!!"

Branch blinked before sighing softly and nodding. Poppy jumped up and down with joy before running off to go find Viva.

~

When Poppy and Viva found each other, the two of them tried to speak at the same time.

"Branch likes Y/N and I need help setting up a date!"

"Clay likes Y/N and I need help setting up a date!"

Then there was silence between them. Poppy and Viva stared at each other for a good couple seconds before Viva spoke up first.

"Well, Clay is closer in age to Y/N, albeit a couple years older... But Branch is a little young for Y/N.."

"But Y/N and Branch spend a lot of quality time together, and Clay only meets with him when he's not busy, Branch drops everything he's doing for Y/N."

Poppy and Viva went back and forth arguing about who would be better for Y/N, and the two of them were getting fed up that the other always had something to say after they finished their argument.

"Ugghhh! I'm so done going back and forth with you, I love you Poppy, I really do. But I think we should just go to Clay and Branch and figure this out."

"I agree, even though Branch is the better candidate..."

Poppy and Viva went and found Branch and Clay sitting down and chatting, Poppy slammed her hands down on the table with anguish.

"You two have to solve your own problems, you both like Y/N and we need to figure out who's going on a date with him because Viva and I are done arguing about it."

Clay and Branch sat in shock, blinking. Branch's mouth gaped open as he stared at Poppy. Clay looked over at Viva, who had a look of disapproval and disappointment on her face as she looked at Poppy. Viva's gaze turned to Clay, and her gaze softened.

"Wait, Branch... You like Y/N and you didn't tell me..?"

"I mean, I told Floyd that if you asked he could tell you.. I didn't.."

Clay looked dejected, and for a while, Branch just sat and stared at him. "How come you didn't tell me that you like Y/N?

"Well I just, I mean, I was busy and we don't really hang out. And when we do hang out the topic never really comes up and I-

"Enough!!" Viva shouted, moving Poppy aside so she can stand beside Clay and Branch. "You two seriously need to figure this out because I'm not setting up a date between both of you and Y/N. What happens if the first date goes really well and he doesn't want to go on the second one with the other brother? I'm not making either of you upset."

Branch and Clay sat still, then they started to make a plan to go up to Y/N when he woke up later that day from his midday nap.

~

Y/N woke up later that day and stretched, got off from his bed and made himself some coffee. Then he walked outside with his book and sat down in his rocking chair. Then there was four pairs of footsteps.

"Y/N! How was your nap? Lovely I bet!" Y/N glanced over and saw Poppy waving at him. She was the one talking. He also saw Viva, Clay, and Branch walking behind her.

"Oh uh, my nap was good? Do you need something?" Y/N raised an eyebrow and Poppy nodded.

"These two have something they want to tell you!" Poppy spoke with a wide smile as she pointed at Clay and Branch; who both turned a bright shade of red.

"Oh! Uhm, ok! What's up guys?"

Clay immediately got nervous and looked everywhere but Y/N. "Uhm, so basically both me and Branch like you and we both wanted to take you out on a date but we weren't sure if you want to go on a date with both of us so we wanted to give you a decision!" Clay spoke rapidly, and then he looked at Y/N for a couple seconds before he turned away again.

"I- Oh!" Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and he set his coffee and his book down. He wasn't sure what to say, so he asked if he could have some time to think about it. Clay and Branch left Y/N to think about it, but Poppy and Viva stayed there.

"If you choose one of them, please try not to break the other's heart o bad.." Viva spoke softly, looking over her shoulder at the brothers who were walking away.

"Oh yeah, I would never dream of doing that, they're two of my best friends.." Y/N spoke as he grabbed his coffee cup and book.

"So since you had time to think about it, who did you choose?" Poppy asked, jumping up and down.

"Poppy!" Viva shouted, and she lightly punched her sister in the shoulder.

"It's alright, and I didn't need time to think about it, I just didn't want to make the decision right then and there.. I choose..."

And the story ends!!! I'll have upcoming stories about who you choose later on 😊

[cobaltcarbonpotassium420]

skin to skin - shidou ryusei

tags / warnings: kinda fluffy, shidou is a little confused about his feelings but that's okay, gn! reader, moderately suggestive content but nothing actually happens, not proofread

author's note: first actual fic??? i'm a lil bit bored so why not. i think shidou might be a little ooc in this perhaps but i tried my best! i'm also a little worried that i implied anything too much about the reader's appearance, so i am very very sorry if i did. constructive criticism is appreciated, though i might cry tbh. exams have me fucked up. enjoy!

his hands roam. they don't have any particular goal. he only glides his fingers gently over your skin, exploring the terrain while you sleep. the warm summer air is oppressive, so the duvet has long since been replaced for a much thinner, almost useless blanket. its use is less for warmth than modesty, not that such a thing was really necessary when shidou had already seen everything there was to be seen about you.

his hands traverse over your thighs, still hovering over with a touch so soft he might as well have been dragging a feather along your sleeping form. sure he might have seen everything, but had he ever truly indulged his other senses in you? perhaps he had tasted you, even some hours later you still lingered on his tongue. it's a bitter, salty taste that sent his nerves into overdrive when the first pang hit. he can recreate the moment in his mind, but it never gets him going quite as much as experiencing it does. thoughts are just thoughts, they're never true to the experience.

that's two senses shidou could tick off of his list of ways he knows you, and now he was about to tick off a third. he had felt you before. he held you tight and close, but the sensation was never what he was focused on. he was familiar with how light and malleable you felt in his hands, but truthfully he never indulged in the details of your body. why would he? at the end of the day, your relationship was largely transactional, with very few feelings atttached besides pure, unadulterated lust and passion. he knew your body the way a student might know a book for a class they had to take - they read the summary half an hour before the lesson, and have a vague grasp of the concept, but the details elude them. shidou decided for once to be a good student and learn those details for no reason in particular other than the fact that he was stuck in your apartment with you on account of him having been evicted for threatening other tenants in his old building, and the warm july night kept him awake.

so he goes about slowly studying you, trying not to rouse you from your sleep. his hand starts on your thigh, and slowly travels its circumference. you're laying on your side, back facing shidou, hair carefully tucked under your head (shidou had complained about it getting in his face while he slept before, and threatened to cut it off himself if you didn't do something about it), soft breaths escaping past your lips, and completely unaware of shidou's touch on you. he hopes you don't wake up and then misinterpret it for something more romantic and intimate than it is. he's just indulging his curiosity and trying to stave off the boredom from struggling to fall asleep.

he feels how soft you are, a fact he already knew, but never like this. he feels a slight dryness to your skin too, and thinks that perhaps you should invest in a good lotion, not that it mattered much to him. he doesn't care about something as menial as whether you're moisturising properly, but he knows you might. people less confident than him often look for silly insecurities that no one else could give a single shit about. he won't point out your dry skin. he doesn't care enough, he thinks.

his hands travel up further, and on the sides of your legs he can feel the evidence of the tight grip he held you in just hours earlier. he scowls slightly, thinking that something so unsightly and vulgar shouldn't be on you. it grosses him out a little, though he couldn't pin point why. he assumes its because someone like you doesn't deserve to have a reminder of someone like him on their body. shidou isn't completely satisfied with that answer, but he leaves it as it is, he's not a fan of overthinking things.

his hands now reach your hips. as his fingertips skate over the landscape, he feels stretch marks that go down your thighs and around to your back. he could follow these trusty guides to the back but chooses not to, he's too tired for that. instead, he follows them up to your hipbone, and he feels you stir. he retracts his hand, afraid you'll wake up and wonder what he was doing. any misinterpretation of his actions on your part could have devastating repercussions on the relationship between the two of you, and shidou makes an instant decision to lie and say he accidentally grazed his hand over you while turning in his sleep, should you interrogate him about what he was doing.

but you don't. you're still asleep, you just moved your leg a little, perhaps feeling his ticklish touch in your sleep, and assuming it was some annoying mosquito that came to feed from you while you slept. shidou waits a moment before resuming his late-night study session, listening to the occasional car drive by late in the night. light from the streetlamps and moon float into your open window, and the music from the corner shop across the road accompany it. the sound is tinny, and shidou is surprised it can even be heard all the way over in your apartment. the cashier is probably blasting it from the radio to stop the warmth from coaxing them to sleep.

a minute passes, and shidou gingerly places his hand back on your hip. with the way you've moved, he can slightly feel your hip bone poking out, and the change strikes him as a slight surprise. your soft body and his mindless journey have both been interrupted by the feeling of the hard, smooth bone of your hips. it's just a small intrusion though, and he traces it up and down with his ring finger a few times, suddenly conscious of how unpleasant his skin is compared to yours. callouses line his hands from long and difficult workouts; a figure like his came at a price. he's not insecure of them, but sometimes he picks at his callouses when he's bored and needs something to do with his hands, which in turn makes his skin raw, and lifting weights immediately becomes a much more painful activity.

amid his little sidetrack in thoughts, shidou's hand slips off of your hip bone, and ends up on your stomach. he knows for a fact that if you were awake you'd try to slap his hand off, saying that you feel fat when he places his hands on your pillowy tummy. its another insecurity that he doesn't see the value of. another pointless thought wasting space in your mind. he stretches his hand out over your lower belly, and gently tucks his fingers in on the far side, under where gravity has pulled your skin and organs to create a natural pouch. it radiates heat, and ordinarily shidou would retract his hand. he doesn't need something else to make him uncomfortably warm, not when he's already sweating slightly in the middle of the night from the hellish heatwave that feels like its attacking your apartment relentlessly. he decides this spot was made for his hand by the gods though, its the perfect size to provide him with a little grip on you, and the softness just makes it all the more perfect to hold.

the thought crosses his mind that if you were to wake up, you'd definitely misinterpret his actions. your presence is so soft and pleasant though, and your body is so perfectly moulded to fit into his grip that he decides just this one time to enjoy the feeling. he tentatively moves closer to you, yet again trying not to wake you, and decides he'll explain himself in the morning.

[hypertana-posts]

katana, how big are ur freaking hands????? wydm its hard to hold a phone D:

"I guess it is hard to convey size through simple text. Here's a comparison."

OOC: I spent way too long on this so more under the cut! I made Katana's hands so detailed WHY.

[circus-complex]

Glass Mind | 1/?

Rating: Teen+

Relationship: Feng Xin/Mu Qing

Tags: feng xin falls ill, mu qing has to care for him, they may be ooc, Post-Canon, but the timeline is kinda all over the place, Does this count as a sickfic?, Temporary Amnesia, Mutual Pining, Feng Xin is dealing with grief and shoving it aside, Mu Qing doesn't know what he feels

Feng Xin falls ill, messing with his head. Mu Qing tasks himself with taking care of him, as well as finding a cure

Updates every other week on Sunday

Hello! I have decided to rewrite this fic, since I ended up writing myself into a corner and it was hard to progress. The first couple chapters are mostly the same, but I fleshed out a couple of the details so it makes more sense going forward. Chapters will be longer as well, and I actually have a plan. I hope you enjoy!

Also on AO3

Full chapter under the cut

Mu Qing and Feng Xin had known each other for what, 800 years? They were the closest, in a way immortal enemies know each other’s weak points, where to strike to kill. They knew each other inside and out, whether they liked it or not. There were no secrets between them. And yet-

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Mu Qing stormed into Feng Xin’s palace. “Did you really just lock him up here? What about his duties?”

Feng Xin’s deputies hung their heads and didn’t say a word. After being verbally lashed for a minute too long, one spoke up.

“G-general Xuan Zhen, we were under orders not to let anyone know…” She looked towards the ground, wringing her hands.

“By whom?” Mu Qing sneered.

“General Nan Yang.”

“Well, General Nan Yang isn’t in the right state of mind now is he?” Mu Qing scowled and uncrossed his arms. He pushed through the small crowd that had gathered to see the commotion. Swiftly walking towards Feng Xin’s room, no attempt was made to stop him. Even if the two gods didn’t get along, and nor did their deputies, Feng Xin’s knew better than to approach their rival god himself. Certainly not when he was in a mood like this.

Mu Qing swung Feng Xin’s door open. It was a sad sight. Sheets were ripped to shreds, nonsensical writing covered the walls. Doors were torn from the hinges. Shattered glass was spread along the floor, forcing Mu Qing to watch where he placed his feet. He rapped his knuckles against the doorframe.

“Feng Xin.” The other god, Martial God of the Southeast, did not respond. He sat on the floor, head cocked to the side, grasping at empty air. His eyes were cloudy, looking but not seeing. Mu Qing approached him.

“Feng Xin,” he demanded. No response. Feng Xin didn’t even spare him a glance. No, Feng Xin didn’t even know he was there. Mu Qing moved to stand in front of him, a foot and a half away. He lightly kicked Feng Xin’s leg with the toe of his boot, frowning.

Feng Xin’s eyes, once a foggy, hazy day, cleared to an overcast sky.

He shrieked.

Mu Qing, caught off guard, took a step backwards. Feng Xin tried to get away, slipped, and slammed his head against the floor. Mu Qing waited a moment before picking up the weak, still god, carrying him to his bed. He laid him onto already messy sheets. Working around the half-asleep man, he slowly replaced the torn bedding. Brushing the glass into one corner, he sat on the other side of the room. Feng Xin’s eyes were back to cloudy. Clothing, while intact, was ripped and stained with what looked like blood. Bruises and cuts littered his body. A bath would do him good. But before he acted, a thought struck him.

Ling Wen? Mu Qing spoke into a private communication array. Who is Feng Xin closest with?

Ling Wen, who had clearly heard him given the open line, paused. I’m not sure I know what you mean.

Mu Qing huffed. I’m asking who Feng Xin knows best. Who- who would care for him, if he was hurt?

General Xuan Zhen, have you encountered any sort of malicious creatures lately? I thought you were off duty this week?

I- no.

Well, I would assume that person would be you, General. With that, Ling Wen cut the communication array off.

Mu Qing groaned. He could ask Xie Lian to help Feng Xin, but he was probably busy with that “San Lang” of his. All of Feng Xin’s attendants were there to manage prayers, not manage the gods' basic needs. Mu Qing was 70% sure Feng Xin and Pei Ming were sort of friends. But there was no way Mu Qing would ask him for help.

He stripped the bloody god. Each torn piece of clothing removed only revealed more and more injuries. Had he inflicted them upon himself? Had some creature done it to him? Broken sentences fell out of Feng Xin’s mouth, shattering on the floor before Mu Qing could catch them.

Feng Xin let out a low hiss as Mu Qing pressed a nasty bruise too hard. Mu Qing made a note to bring medical salves and bandages next time. He picked the limp god up carefully, making sure not to touch any wounds.

Luckily, Mu Qing was familiar with the layout of Feng Xin’s palace. He carried him to Feng Xin’s private bath. The walk was short.

Feng Xin grew alert as the steam touched his face. He clawed at Mu Qing’s robes, making noises of protest. Mu Qing ignored him, and set Feng Xin on the ground. All the windows were made of the finest glass, pool lined with smooth tiles. Heating talismans were embedded into the stones, specially crafted not to lose their power nor crumble when wet. It was a subtle display of the power Feng Xin held.

Water was already starting to cling to Mu Qing’s skin. He lowered Feng Xin into the water. Feng Xin squirmed, but once the water reached his torso, he relaxed. Mu Qing watched as flecks of dried blood were already starting to fall away. Dirt and grime fell off his body, disappearing into enchanted water. Leaving Feng Xin but still keeping his eyes on him, Mu Qing picked through the row of soaps. He selected the few he knew Feng Xin liked and walked back over.

Feng Xin had gone from dead still and silent to babbling and grabbing the air. Mu Qing wasn’t sure which version he preferred. Maybe silent, it made him easier to deal with. Mu Qing crossed his arms, thoughts speeding. Feng Xin jerked backwards, and Mu Qing hissed when water splashed onto his robes. It was an expected cost, but Mu Qing still wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t want to harm Feng Xin, but he doubted he’d cooperate. But simply putting him into water and re-dressing him wouldn’t do much good, it would be better to fully clean him. His hair was matted and even though most of the dirt was gone, there was still some within his cuts. Infections would be no fun, not in this state. Finally settling on a plan, Mu Qing got to work.

[quillpokebiology]

Introduction Post

Hallo, Hola, Ciao, Bonjour, and all the other greetings, everyone 👋. My name is Arrowquill, but you can just call me Quill. I don't care for pronouns much, so you can call me whatever you like.

I'm a student who was born in Galar, but I'm currently studying at Naranja-Uva Academy in Paldea, where I'm studying biology. I want to be a pokemon professor when I graduate, so I will be sharing info and facts here! Extra stuff under the cut. Scroll to the very bottom to see blog rules.

More about me

I'm the kid of @historianofgalar and grew up in the wild area of Galar. Not much there really. I got my starter at 11, joined the Galar league at 12, made rivals, got a crush on one of my rivals, failed the Galar League at 13, had a mental breakdown and almost died on an ice mountain at Galar's research facility, realized the problem with the government, I think I might've made the Galarian government hate me, joined a new research facility that does more field work, and yeh :)

Main Team

I have a lot of pokemon, as I have to study a lot. But here is my main ones

Squirt the Inteleon

My sweet baby and first pokemon. I got her when she was a sobble as a gift from my dad when I turned 10, and I've cherished her ever since.

Flash the Cinderace

I got him from as a rescue from a not great research center shortly after I received Squirt. He's super energetic, and him and Squirt are quite close.

Joker the Orbeetle

First wild pokemon I caught. Caught him the old-fashioned way when he was a Blipbug. I named him Joker because I thought he looked really goofy, but seeing orbeetle, I see the irony of that.

Archer the Decidueye

Caught him on the Isle of Armor as a reward for finding a lot of diglett. I was supposed to get a Popplio, but the guy thought it was neat how I was named Arrowquill, and Rowlet evolves into the Arrowquill Pokemon, so he gave me a rowlet instead. Archer is really sweet, but a bit timid, so he tends to keep to himself a lot.

Jellybean the Goodra

Funny story on how I caught her. It was raining, and I was trying to catch a Pikachu, but I accidently threw it at a goomy that was just passing by. Long story short, she's a goodra now, and I love her.

Scarlet the Corviknight

Caught her as the second wild pokemon on my journey, right after Joker. She's shy, but also really great. She's one of the more serious members, and she's pulled my team through a lot.

Other

Bagels the Fidough

Caught him because he was following me when I was eating, and I caught him because it isn't a good idea to have wild fidough walking around a city. He's super cute and I love him a lot.

Caesar the Chestnaught

Technically, he has two names? I call him Caesar, as in See-ser, but my mom says it's pronounced "Hay-sar." Either way, I caught him as a Chespin in Paldea.

Ooc: Blog Rules

-While this blog is supposed to be made so everyone can view it, there might be some NSFW mentions regarding pokemon breeding (nothing too detailed). However, this blog does not accept nsfw asks, mentions, or submits other than light-hearted jokes

-Please keep in mind that Quill is older than irl me, and I am a minor. I won't roleplay anything sexual and will block/report anyone that tries to do that with me

-If your account has the default tumblr pfp, is untitled, has no description, has a pornographic name, or pornagraphic imagery, I'll assume that you are a bot and you will be blocked

-Quill is a character I am still developing, so a lot of stuff about them might change overtime

-While I might post some Fakemon, they will most likely be from the ancient past. The Fakemon that I do post who aren't variants or from the ancient past will not be mine, and I will give credit to the original creators. You can submit fakemon if you want, but there will not be fact posts about them. Just analysis.

-I do not allow hybrid Pokemon, but I WILL allow and talk about crossbreed pokemon. Like a Bounsweet, whose dad was a Roserade having traits of a Budew and stuff like that

-I awnser asks, but at my own pace. Some I might delete for multiple reasons (difficult, can't think of anything, or I just plain don't like the pokemon). But I try my best to awnser most asks, even if it takes a while

-My headcanons can be used by anyone, and you don't have to ask if you want to use them

Posts to see

This blog is completely made for fun and as a way for me to spit my headcanons and roleplay as my OC. I have a regular tumblr where I just post random stuff, @mintaikk . But, I'm not going to advertise it much bcuz the posts there can be NSFW, and this blog is PG.

Ooc Post

[thetravelingtyper]

Reaper (GN! Tall Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley) Spitfire Moment 2

You and Simon have a moment and Simon has a few skeletons on his mind.

Warnings: Some angst, talk of character death, happy ending. Possible OOC of characters

Part 1, Part 3, Masterlist

A/N: These moments are not in any particular chronological order so details are given in each description. Takes place before the events of COD MW2 2022. In this universe, the 141 had Soap knowing Ghost already.

(Deeply inspired by Woman by Mumford and Sons, Seriously if you want my emotional experience please listen to that on repeat while reading!)

A flash of lightning lights up your living room. Then it goes out, then a rumble of thunder like a wave. Christmas lights blink, threatening to go out, but they just resume their programmed pattern. You sit on the far side of the sofa, leaning against the arm with legs crossed as you sit sentinel. You are a silent guardian in the night as your partner sleeps.

Ruffled blond hair is soft under your fingertips, and you scratch lightly at Simon’s scalp as he grumbles something incoherent in his sleep. Ghost had entered your apartment, but the warmth of your soul let the reaper find rest. As a hardened machine, Ghost cut down enemies and bolstered allies alike, and yet the hardened cusp of a man was made whole with love here at this moment as he slept.

You reach a free hand behind you to the table, your scrying fingers brush hard plastic and you pick up the other half of your sleeping lover. As if sensing a call, Simon shifts, his loose arms pulling into himself a bit, but he does not awaken; instead his head turns and digs a little bit deeper into the pillow in your lap. He reminded you of a big dog trying to fit into a tiny dog bed, this thought leading a smile to your face and your eyes shift down to him for a moment. You pull his mask forward, holding it above his sleeping form, now taking your hand from his scalp to run it over the skull plate.

At one point you had been unnerved by Ghost. Despite your height, it was his way of carrying himself that allowed Ghost to tower over you. And yet your good-humored nature had won out when he had treated you with respect.

---

You were part of a United States Marines Covert Unit, the end of a long undercover mission had brought you to London for R&R as your Captain put it. The woman had given you a long look and then sent you for an extended break. Something about a ‘fisher friend’ over the ‘Pond,’ someone she thought you would enjoy. So with your few traveling possession bundled together, you took a late flight.

For some reason you were restless, and the moment you got off the plane you headed to your destination, a brick-built pub. Your Captain had told you to meet her contact in the next few days but you had nothing to do. 

Pushing into the pub you found a warm and rustic space. Hardwood tables, cushioned stools, and a good old chap running the place pulled you in quickly. The bartender and, as you found, the owner liked to keep the place open late.

“For those lonely wanderers, you military?” You nodded at the question and he gave a knowing nod, then gestured to a space behind the bar.

“Feel free to stay a while, you look like ya could use a drink and some company.”

You give the man a smile and set your carry-on and backpack down. You appreciated the hospitality and as you took a seat at the bar you looked around.

There were a few regulars, older gents who had a few too many waiting to leave, you look to the back, and a couple of ladies were playing pool. What you assumed was the older of the two was hovering at her partners’ back, and the younger shot her a smile. Your heart warmed at the clear affection, your eyes moved on. At a table across from them sat a tired student, textbooks, laptop, and the use of the outlet signaled their hasty work. The poor kid looked ready to fall asleep, but as they kept nodding off they jolted awake and then went back to frantic typing. You grimaced, remembering those days in your 20s. 

You did a final look about the room, eyes scanning the corners, assessing the structure of the room, and catching the shadows in the more closed corner. Then a glint. You pulled yourself up, a clink of glasses as the bartender busied himself prepping you a drink. A smile curled up on your face, you were a little startled but you had caught your watcher, you sent the figure a nod.

Hidden in a far-cornered table sat a man in all black, the only signal that he was there at all was the skull printed on his balaclava. Your training crept up your spine when you first clocked him, but the surroundings and atmosphere told you that somehow he wasn’t a threat. And with his position, you felt that, in a funny way, he just fit in, every old place like this had a skeleton in the closet.

The bartender finally turned back to you and noticing your raised eyebrow turned to the silent corner. You crack a smile:

“Got a skeleton in your closet?”

This catches the man off guard, then he lets out a loud bellowing laugh. He has to set the glass down to brace himself on the bar. His laughter catches the patrons' eyes, but they turn back to their actions. It’s infectious and with your energy (and frankly slight delirium after a long flight) you begin to giggle. You lock your legs on the stool to balance yourself, a glint in your eye lighting up. The bartender catches his breath and then asks you what you were drinking.

“A rum and coke please,” you move to pull out payment and the man waves you off.

“You are the first person to notice him, this is on the house. Don’t mind the man he is a good customer and a good patron.” 

He makes your drink and doesn’t offer any more information, and you don’t push. If a man in a mask is in a place like this chilling in the dark corner like Batman at, you glance at your watch, 1 something in the morning you respect his dedication.

The next two hours are spent with two drinks and a long conversation. He busies himself as the other patrons leave, the men getting rides and the student finishing with a sigh of relief. As the women pass hand in hand you and the bartender both smile. He asks what life is like in the states, where you went to school, and how the force was. You stay within nonclassified limits of course but you spin him (slightly) exaggerated tales. Sometimes he turns around to reorganize things and in these moments you feel eyes on the side of your head. 

The resident skeleton is apparently nursing a glass, the amber liquid catching the light, but it is his eyes you catch as the light shifts. Umber eyes glint through a mix of eye black and pale skin. You hold his eyes, back straightening naturally under his observation. You wonder if he was military, seeing his position and the mask. As the bartender returns to you, you nod and raise your glass in a toast and offer. He makes no movement so you shrug and turn back to the bartender with an easy and engaged smile, behind your back Simon’s head tilts in consideration.

3 o’clock comes with a slight warmth in your veins, you pull your arms over your head in a stretch as tiredness finally catches up to you. Your conversation had turned from your experience to why you were here. And you offer the best reply you could while maintaining some secrecy.

“My service mom basically sent me over to be babysat.” 

The bartender raises a brow but doesn’t push, instead, he offers an amused grin while glancing at your face and the clock. You get his idea and nod,

“I’m staying close just…” you still and turn, the man pauses in his approach a foot or two from you. He seems a little surprised to be caught but makes no movement, he then recovers and approaches the stool next to you. He looks down at you with a silent question.

“Be my guest.” You smile warmly, his actions were a bit endearing, it reminded you of your friend’s german shepherd. As a puppy, the dog would stalk your friend, and the moment she broke the stare the dog would pounce. 

The man sits with a tight figure, he is covered except for, as you see now, his hands. They are rough with scars and calluses and the glint of a chain around his neck with dog tags under his shirt answers your earlier assumptions. He is bulky, well-tuned, and muscled for combat, and you find yourself happy you don’t have to see his bad side. His eyes turn to yours under your observation, brown eyes bright and aware despite the skull and the silence of his figure. His eyes trace your form, then after passing over your belongings, they focus on the impression of your hidden dog tags. He tilts his head.

“American, sir, if the accent didn’t already give it away.”

You offer it up then turn back to your drink. The bartender watches a little baffled, then watches Simon, an unlikely patron for a long while. He didn’t know the man that well, but he came to be able to read the man, especially with his other unit members came in. The men in hats liked beer and cigars while the Scot was a loud but grand time. Simon gives you a long look, evaluating, and then…

A glint of glass hits your peripheral vision, and a pale hand of a reaper raises his glass. You turn, blinking down then up at him, he lifts his head, and you smile. You raise your glass to clink lightly against his and, turning to clean the counter the bartender smiles. He heads to the other end, cleaning and sorting glasses and utensils. Simon watches him leave then turns back to you. You watch him with an amused grin, shoulders looser, and general air happy. 

“Where are you staying?” his voice for some reason doesn’t surprise you as it comes out more like a grumble than anything else. 

You raise a brow, while the man in front of you was, interesting, you didn’t feel unsafe. You went with your gut, 

“There’s a small inn a few blocks down, Captain booked me a room.”

This caught Simon’s attention, he had a hunch. 

“I know it. I’m in for a few days,” he watches you stifle a yawn, “walk you?”

The offer surprises you, but you finish your drink as the bartender returns. You consider it and give him a nod. 

“Sure...?”

“Simon, Simon Riley.” His name is firm and your lips quirk, you offer your name in reply. It confirms his suspicion and as you gather your stuff Simon takes your carry-on for you. 

He had been surprised when you noticed him, but listening in on your stories and your easy nature, even around him, had caught his interest. And as he opened the door for you and gave a nod to the barkeep a small grin rose under his mask. 

---

Simon had actually offered good company, the walk had led to a good conversation. In the following days before your meeting you had been offered an outing for tea and groceries by the man, he had shown you the area. And the night you had gone to the pub to meet with your captain’s friend you found Simon sitting with what you would find out was the 141.

You had locked eyes, chuckled, and then offered “what is this, army recruitment?”

The following amused grin on Captain John Price’s face and the baffled expressions on the others' faces cemented your character. You approached the table steadily and introduced yourself with an induced American drawl. Soap grinned at you, welcoming you with a drink instantly. Gaz looked between you and a grinning Price:

“This is the new recruit? They look like they are on vacation.”

“I was, apparently ‘mom’ was loaning me out, good to know the Captain hates me.”

 Price’s voice was warm and well-humored,

“Aye, consider it a promotion, right Lieutenant?”

Simon’s brow raised under the mask and he turned to regard you. There was a familiar calm, then a quick flash of something. You took it as a good sign and dropped into the seat next to him, and the rest became history.

---

The white of the skull shell comforted you with its seriousness. While you loved the man asleep in your lap with all your heart, you did not shy away from Ghost. He had risen up from the darkness that lingered around Simon and was a shield against the world. And yet, as he fell further and further in with the 141, parts of Simon shone through. 

You press the mask against your heart in a silent thanks, a bit goofy but you were sentimental. Eyes closed, you took in the residual smell of cologne, sweat, and gunpowder. At this point in your life, so deep within the arms of war, even while at peace the smells settled your soul. In the darkness behind your eyes, an easy light shone through as long arms wrapped themselves around your stomach.

The rain outside pelted coldly, but warmth simmered in your heart. Brown eyes sat closed but Simon hummed, hands traveling. You chucked down at him, still grasping his shadow in your hands, hesitant to disconnect the two in your mind as it was indeed Ghost you had loved first before the unmasked man beneath you.

The ink of his tattoos danced in the street lights from the window, a flash of lightning, Simon lifts up from your grasp, pulling his arms to his chest. You fear for a moment but stifle a giggle when he just flips his long body over to his stomach to settle further into your lap like a cat. He lays for a moment before propping himself up with an elbow, his face turning up to you.

Eyes linger over you, his mouth tugging up, you wore one of his shirts, the buttons at the collar, it is loose and showing your collarbone, and a silver chain. His eyes travel down, then they catch his infamous mask. His voice rumbles out, somehow even lower from sleep, and it sends a tingle up your spine.

“What are you doing Love?”

His sleep-husked voice asks. You don't answer. Instead, you pull a hand from the mask to caress your lover's face. Scars are raised on the smooth skin under your fingers. His stubble is rough and he leans into your hand like a cat. You trace up, thumbing a cut on his brow, then hitting his hair he drops back down into your lap. You can’t stop the smirk, his head turns on the pillow looking out into the room, refusing to acknowledge your smug smile as he leans into the pillow. This man was a cat. You run your hand actively through his growing-out hair.

“You can’t escape the question.”

“I’m not baby. I was just admiring an old friend.” You huff a laugh as his arms can now easily circle your waist.

He mumbles incoherently into the pillow as he embraces you like a tired toddler. 

“What, Ghost is really cool, you know a friend tells me he’s really hot under all that gear,” you pause a moment thinking, “actually leave the gear on.”

Simon groans, now fully awake, he pulls back and pushes himself up further. In a short sleeve shirt, you can greatly admire his arms as he moves his long legs around shifting to sit so that he is mirroring you. He now sits crisscrossed in front of you.

“Sleepover?” 

He gives you a pointed look. You grin.

“Love, we won’t be sleeping if you keep being cheeky…” it rumbles out and he reaches a hand towards you. You hug his mask tighter, head shaking and pulling back from him.

“Nope.”

A blond brow shoots up. Simon sits straighter then he sees you glance down at the mask holding it to better examine it. The heartfelt smile on your face makes him freeze.

---

You had been shot. Gunfire finally fizzled out as the team got the hell out of dodge with the intel. You laughed wetly, hot tears of pain blinding your sight into a fuzzy haze. A mohawk passed and you reached a hand up. Soap’s voice filtered in and out of coherency.

“Shit, hang in ther…”

Firm hands pressed to your side and your face as Gaz held pressure to the wound, his dark skin a reprieve from the white lights of the burning sun. A hat presses on your head, your eyes search.

“Hold on to this kid, I expect it back.”

Price covers your eyes from the sun with his hat as Ghost drives as fast as he physically can without jostling you. You had made it back, rushing into the truck as fire rained down from above. What was supposed to be an empty compound was filled with enemies and shoddy intel. Soap and Gaz had been on the other side of the compound and had bested you by a lucky minute. You all heard the echo of a rifle before the blood seeped out from under your gear, you froze and then crumpled forward. It was Soap who had yanked you into the truck and Ghost had taken off like a bat out of hell.

“Shit, Ghost careful!” in his panic, Soap’s accent thickened as he cupped the back of your head, Price’s hat tilted, threatening to tumble. You gasped out a hard breath, in your delirium you tried to reach to fix it, but your hands lay still, limply splayed out. Soap caught the movement and his heart broke, his jaw clenched and he gently moved your shoulders and head down further into his lap. He tilted the hat better on your head, hand shaking when you smiled hazily, 

“Thank you Soapy…” the words tumbled out with a shaky giggle.

"Spitz" the deep voice cut through your delirium for a moment, you pulled your legs up trying to shift. Gaz curses,

"Keep 'em still Johnny!" 

"Hey L.T.," your voice cracks, "you think Cap will take me back? Like a trade in…" you give a chuckle. 

Technically you were on 'loan' as your captain had told Price. Well extended loan, as you never officially 'joined'.

Simon, under Ghost, clenched the wheel tighter as the truck crested a hill. Price remained grimly silent, having already called for medical evac, the safe house was 30 minutes out, Simon drove faster.

“Ghost?” your questioning tone squeeze his heart.

“We are not returning you Spitz.” Hearing Soap’s nickname for you from your commanding officer made you giggle.

“You sound funny.” 

Gaz did his best to staunch the bleeding at your abdomen, 

“Shit, Captain we need to hurry!” 

You suddenly jerked at the pressure, hand lunging for Soap’s arm. Your eyes dull a little and your voice breaks, 

“I’m scared Johnny.”

Price spins around at this, eyes shooting from the road, he leans over the back seat. 

Your eyes dip and Soap starts shaking your cradled head.

“Hey, hey, look at me!” You can barely understand him through the ringing of your ears and your haze.

You can make out the sounds of a chopper and the truck skidding to a stop, but warmth has embraced your mind as shadows start to take you. Doors slam open with a crash. You close your eyes, then a jab, and awareness fights through.

“Fucking hell, you are not fucking dying on me!”

Your eyes shoot open, a flash of clarity, then the rush of searing pain. You almost scream but instead bite down on leather.

“You are going take your tongue off! It’s ok I’m here!” The reaper stands over you.

Actually, now your limp form is in the air.

Ghost has you in his arms rushing to the chopper, unseen the others follow, truck abandoned. But the face of death stares down at you. The injection wakes your body but your mind still drifts and your eyes unfocus on anything but the skull plate and deep brown eyes. 

You reach a hand up, bumping then finally finding purchase on the mask. His breath comes out jagged with hidden emotion as he runs effortlessly with you. Eyes turn back up and you whine at the loss of his face, he lunges up into the helicopter.

“You will be fine Spitz,” Ghost mutters as the others jump in and slide the door shut. The bird takes off and Price is yelling directions while Soap and Gaz pace, but…

Ghost is a wall off from the chaos as he holds you, the medic rushes him, a light in your eyes, testing fingers. Ghost lowers you to the floor, Soap rushes through Gaz’s call. Price’s hat tumbles off, and Soap braces his hands under your head as Ghost sets you down. 

Blackness finally catches you but you latch on, mentally and physically, to the reaper’s face. Ghost just kneels closer, listless for a second as you pull him closer by his head. His arms brace on the sides of your head, careful not to hit you. His shoulders, padded in black, block you from view as the medic rushes for supplies. Soap is the only witness as Price holds Gaz back from crowding you.

The skull with surprised human eyes is a breath away from your face, but you don’t register Simon at this point. You weakly caress the skull, and Simon's breath stutters.

“You’re…not scary” you giggle haggardly and Soap has to clench his jaw and turn away. But Simon is caught in your grasp, watching you pass into shadows, but yet, your eyes then see his. 

“hi.” it comes out breathy as your heart slows. The medic returns and on the other side of your body he cuts through your gear. You don’t feel anything but blissful warmth from here. 

You pull Simon's head even closer, his mask plate knocking into his forehead as your eyes engulf his.

“You’re no-t scary Ghosty,” you press your lips to his masked cheek then pass out, head going limp in Soaps hands with a ghastly smile on your face. 

Simon freezes and then is yanked back by Gaz and Price as the medic tears through your vest to resuscitate, Soap is cradling your limp head with tears streaming down his face.

The time passes as a blur as Simon dissociates and Ghost takes over, keeping vigil.

---

Six days later you awaken back on base, hooked up to an IV. You pull the breathing tube out just as Soap wakes up and starts burning you alive with Scottish slang. His voice is rough with tears as you watch him like a deer caught in the headlights. Gaz pokes his head in with a brightening smile as you start cursing at Soap in return. 

Price’s hat hovers over your head as he corrals both of you with stern, but relieved eyes. You grasp for his hat with an excited squeal. Under heavy meds, you are slightly fuzzy but aware of those in the room. You make gimme gimme hands and it lands in your lap. Soap bites a shaky smile head turning to clear his tears.

Your mind buzzes, even in your hazy state, Bandages wrap your sides like gloves and the air is stately and chill through the hospital gown. The sheets, while warm aren’t enough. A tingle in your mind, you blink, then your eyes automatically turn towards the door. 

Silver dog tags on black glint, but your eyes capture your reaper. You try to shift up but Soap moves forward:

“Ey no ye don’t.” You don’t turn to him but try to pass him Price’s hat in a bribe. Gaz sees it and loses it, wheezing into a strained crying laugh as he falls back into a chair. Well-meaning and previously collected, it's Gaz who is emotionally snapping. Relief tears its way through him as his hands clenched together and he rests his forehead on them, his shoulders shaking silently. Seeing you ok finally lets his calm, masked exterior release break. Your eyes dip towards Kyle and Ghost enters. The Lieutenant passes Gaz, hand in a fist knocking his shoulder in a calming moment. Umber eyes shoot up to Soap, the Scot nods and he takes the hat with a murmur of thanks to you. You watch head cocking as Soap takes Gaz and the two head into the hallway. Now hatless, you turn towards Price, medicine pulling a little on your mind.

“If you call me Dad kid I am making you run laps.”

Price chuckles fondly as your eyes go wide then you squint at him. Ghost approaches the other side of your bed and Simon stares down at you as you lock eyes with Price. His hatless hair is ruffled and he looks tired. You reach a grabby hand out, both weighted by medicine but also as a joke. Price raises a brow but it’s not his hand that takes yours. A black-coated arm reaches across your lap and takes your hand. Your head tilts, confused for a moment, then it turns to stare at the reaper. A black shape engulfs your vision. His infamous black jacket is laid over you. It smells of gunpowder and him, you realize as a doopy smile extends over your face. You run your free hand over it, Price smiles unseen and leaves the room, shutting the door softly. 

You attempt to move your grasped hand but find it locked in place. Your eyes trace up, your Lieutenant is wearing a hoodie and is gearless, blue jeans free of his ‘casual’ holster. You lean over the side of the bed looking. He’s not in boots. You hum, mind vibrating at you for some reason. You move back and another hand moves to your shoulder, helping you gently lean back into the pillows.

“Easy.”

The voice is rough, emotion filtering in. Your eyes trace up his arm, over broad shoulders, and at his exposed dog tags, you want to reach up and grab them but suddenly his arms are gone. A frown starts to creep up on your face before gloveless hands engulf the sides of your face and neck and your head is quickly, but carefully, pressed to his chest. You blink before your arms raise naturally to wrap around his body as he awkwardly leans over. His chest is steady, but his heart beats sporadically, trying to calm itself. Simon lowers his head onto yours just holding you. You both remain this way, medicine pulls at your conscious but your heart fights it, cherishing the moment.

You pat his back and he hesitantly pulls black, but his hands remain resting on you, guarding. Brown eyes swim with emotion as his eye black is streaked. There is redness to his eyes and his brows are taunt with stress, but he still wears his combat mask but the plate is clean. His hand leaves you and reaches for the mask, offering. You grab his hand, your head cocked in question.

You shake your head, exhaling softly out your nose with a warm heart. He freezes, and Ghost finally steps back. He leans up, breathing deeply as you watch with a growing smile when you see the weight of panic and sorrow leave him. His shoulders drop and his fingers that are still on your arm rub circles. Then Simon steps forward, some shadow in his mind warming and settling into his soul. 

His free hand lingers, fingers flexing. His eyes skim over you, the black of his jacket staining the white gown and sheets. His eyes scan your collarbone, your breathing steady and at peace, then they meet your face.

Your lips are smiling, dry but quirked. Up to your eyes. They shimmer as you are now aware of his presence and are appreciative. But a spark. In your mind the medicine now just makes you sleepy, body finally awake with your mind, even if for a moment. You are content with the shadow’s presence, completely comfortable with Ghost before you.

This fact finally, for the first real time, settles in Simon’s mind as he blinks. He wants to laugh, his heart racing. You notice the change and a hand comes up and caresses the mask. He stares at you, mind blanking.

A second, your mouth opens to question him.

“Are you ok?”

Nothing.

Your head cocks, smile slipping, then freezing at his eyes. 

Simon just stares down, then his hands shoot up. He tears off the mask. You go to close your eyes but warm hands grasp your face, they plead with you and you open your eyes.

Simon bears his soul to you, pale face littered with scars. But you only watch his eyes as they begin to water, the mask of Ghost sits discarded in your lap as his shadow melts and Simon begins. Both are mingled into one conflicted being.

And your fingers caress both as you frown, unbothered by the being before you, your hand goes to wipe a tear but Simon ducks further and presses his lips into yours. 

---

Simon blinks back and his hands take your face. Your eyes shoot up with a hum and you set the mask down.

“Jealous?” You ask cheekily.

“I love you.” His voice is solid, Ghost’s unbreaking and promising, and Simon’s deep with emotion. You sense the weight of the moment and you smile calmly,

“I love you too.” You reply.

[almightygremlinblob]

Listen...I just like the idea of a dysfunctional family dynamic between them, ok?! Platonic ficlet (in which Legato and Zazie discuss the bible) under the cut!

CW: One mention of dismemberment. Overall tho, just sibling fluff between Zazie and Legato (and him being secretly soft with Zazie if you squint). My only knowledge of both of them is Tristamp (I have yet to watch 98 and I'm downright TERRIFIED to read Trimax), so this may be a little OOC

Word Count: 592

"You've been staring at that thing for ten minutes now."

"Leave, Beast."

"What's so special about it, anyway?"

"I'm. Reading."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Nails almost, almost dare to rake against the book he's holding. Legato takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself from becoming lightheaded because of how annoyed he is; his shoulders relaxing but his hands still visibly tense around his Bible. He sends a death glare to the dark-skinned child at his side, and it has absolutely no effect on them whatsoever.

Though their face is obstructed by that beetle-like insect, another part of them, no doubt, he can practically see the smirk on Zazie's lips - happy to annoy one of their favorite humans. They tilt their head at him. Annoying...

"Well?" He hears the faint buzzing of flitting wings. "You didn't answer me."

Legato lets out a long sigh.

"This book details the stories of the first humans and their...leader, so to speak, throughout different eras in their early history. Before we left Earth to look for a different planet to destroy...and because of that, it's also a devotional. One that I must read daily." Zazie puts their face close to the pages, observing the letters and then following Legato's slim fingers as he runs them through an illustration in the book; pointing to different parts of it as he explains to the smaller one, who was seated at the side of the big armchair he was in. "It tells of monsters and false gods. Of our creator, and his sinful, immoral creations...humans. And of their punishments for being so abhorrent."

"You were created like this? How interesting..." The Beast hums. "What kind of madman would create creatures as flawed as you and then punish them for being so?"

"That's..." 'That's a good point, I'm not actually sure.' Is what goes completely unsaid and, instead, Legato lets out an annoyed groan to mask the fact that he has no answer to that. "It's beyond us why we were created this way. So weak and feeble, too..."

"Ah, that's right..." Zazie leans back. "You Humans don't have generational memory, no? These things are how you pass down knowledge."

"That's correct, yes."

"But..." The Beast's body language is showing genuine curiosity, now. "Except for you, I don't seem to see many of you with very good memory..."

"Yes...humans are generally less capable than a lot of animals." Legato's eyes widen slightly, and he realizes where the conversation is going. Zazie tilts their head.

"How can you be sure this is history if you have no way of directly preserving the knowledge?"

"That's..."

Zazie pauses for a moment, before poking him in the cheek. "Do you actually read this as a devotional?"

"Enough!" Legato bats their hand away. "It's none of your concern why I read this!"

"What's actually in this book, Legato?"

"I-I already told you!" Legato grits his teeth, trying to keep the book away from the monster child - who flits about the armchair, hands reaching out to take it from him. Though it's of little use, Zazie eventually grabs hold of the book and flips about it - seeing strange illustrations of people burning or being dismembered; not at all looking surprised. "...Oh. That's why."

Legato grabs the book from the smaller one. "Enough! Just let me read while I ca-"

The door to the room opens, and Elendira huffs as she walks into the room, scowling at the both of them. "Beast. Bluesummers. Quit your squabbling! It's time for us to move."

Zazie snickers as Legato slams the book shut.

[lumenflowered]

OOC: Right so the readmore just entirely gave up on my new and hopefully final intro post, so. Fuck it, we ball, I'm putting my OOC info here.

Hi. I'm Hope, you may find me elsewhere at @ofstormsandfire where I am routinely not remotely normal about my favorite fictional characters. One of said faves is Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, because I am really enjoying Bloodborne and also she's just. She's just a really cool character okay. Yes I know she has four lines it's about the ~implications~ y'all.

Last summer, a lot of my friends were getting really into pokeblogging so I made one myself, but I have not gotten anywhere near as invested with any of my other ones as I have with this one. Because I had the thought, the critical thought that started all this, that was "oh hey, people are throwing their faves from other pieces of media into here, I could totally do that too."

And then, near the end of November last year, I thought for too long about how hilarious it would be to throw someone from a tonally incongruous piece of media like Bloodborne into the comparatively much kinder world of Pokémon.

And then I thought for too long about how I could throw this woman who was, in all likelihood, extremely traumatized at a world far kinder than anything she'd ever known before. About how this could be a journey about healing, about falling back in love with life.

...And then I came up with the blog url and it was really all over for me from there.

My own ramblings on how this blog came about aside, Bloodborne is a horror game, it is normally fairly dark. Canon-typical themes for Bloodborne will be present, but I'll do my best to tag for anything that isn't your usual pokeblogging fare and if you'd like anything I'm not already tagging for to be tagged, just lmk, I'm happy to.

And now, assuming my readmore works here (I have my suspicions as to why it isn't on the other post) have some navigational tags under the cut!

Story tags!

#firebird arc: I combined the Radio Tower takeover and the Ho-oh subplot, made the Kimono Girls more relevant, and ramped up the stakes. Ho-oh is a firebird and I think there's a type of rocket called the firebird. I like puns.

#from the ashes arc: Giovanni became an actual threat, there got to be an entire Rocket base in Tohjo Falls, and Silver got traumatized more. Mind the tags and also the warning OOC post at the beginning.

#kanto rocket arc: There wasn't much to do in Kanto so I had Rocket start causing problems on purpose. Silver transed her gender and Giovanni... seemed to no longer be a problem at the end of it.

#downpour arc: Starting soon! First post in the tag is an OOC post explaining a little about what I have planned, there's a few others that are foreshadowing/buildup for it, and then once we're formally starting I'll make another OOC post with more detailed warnings.

Character tags!

(...I really should think about making a character tag for Ade at some point. That would require going back and tagging so many posts and I don't actually have an idea for her yet, but maybe sometime in the future.)

#passing stranger: Dee (better known as the Plain Doll in Bloodborne canon) is here! And is now on the blog full-time because I love her and it made thematic sense! The earliest posts from her are from her 24-hour takeover back in February, before anyone knew who she was in-character and Dee was then very invested in keeping it that way.

#milf time and sonboy hours, #milf time: The first tag was specifically posts from Ethan and Reina, but Tumblr stole my yellow and I think stealing it back broke the cut on the other post so I'm not going to risk using it here. Ethan might show up again occasionally, Reina is more likely to show up on her own though. She likes birds and may or may not have had a bisexual awakening when her kid brought a Faller home.

#rainbow wings: Posts from (or sometimes relating to) Ho-oh. They don't post that often but they're a giant rainbow bird they can do what they want. What they want, when they happen to be online, is generally for injustice to Not Happen. Good luck buddy this is the internet.

#the first to fall: The Hunter from Maria's world taking on the role of the player character in Bloodborne. Her name's Mallory, she got the Childhood's Beginning ending for people that means anything to, and she was a Faller in the other direction before dragging herself and Dee into the world of Pokémon. (And, unintentionally, Maria too. She's probably the only unintentional tag-along, though. Right?)

#what's with this sassy lost child?: Posts from Silver, before she got her own blog at @cosmic-crobat. These days she mostly uses her own blog, but she'll still get blue text when she shows up in recordings.

Misc other tags!

#ask game: Reblogs of ask games and responses to said ask games. This one isn't chronological.

#hints to the future: Specifically, responses to that one ask game with the gear emojis that lets you hint at future events. I am always accepting asks for this one no matter how long it's been since I last reblogged that ask game. I like hinting toward what's to come and I like writing prose.

#glimpses of the past: That one ask game with the hourglasses that lets you see into the muse's past. Again, always open because I love writing prose and I can write out prose for things that have already happened this way.

#pelipper mail: It's open, it keeps happening, it keeps causing problems. Note that while I do not have magic anons on, if you're sufficiently creative with Pelipper Mail and it isn't too story-breaking you can probably get a similar effect to a magic anon that way.

#sword lesbian things: Silly and fairly self-explanatory. For when Maria's doing things with her sword, now that she has it back.

#the death hole: Scarvio DLC spoilers! Maria decided to Pelipper Mail herself to Paldea to help a friend. The death hole lived up to its reputation, and she will probably be Pelipper Mailing herself to try and solve other people's problems by ignoring her own more often in future.

#the vampire allegations: Silly tag for posts involving the recurring jokes about Maria being a vampire. It keeps happening, due to her entire aesthetic and also me deciding she can be allergic to garlic for coincidental and completely mundane reasons.

[luxaryllis]

Hi, I'm Rook's fangirl, I love angst and here's my request.

Rook x f!reader. Rook was madly in love with reader for a long time, but somehow didn't have courage to tell her. Now he's dying, she's far away and thing he regrets the most is... That now he will never ever have a chance to tell her how much he loved her, adored her and wanted to marry her.

OH YEAH I WANNA CRY MY EYES OUT

What Could Have Been (Rook Hunt x F!Reader)

Note: Back to angst it is then!! Man, the requests in my inbox are either crossovers or angst like this. What has my life come to? /lh

Now, I'm not that good at writing romance, but for you, I'll do my best! I also took some deliberate choices in the writing so that it won't seem as though the MC was just Rook's highschool crush or something so I hope that was okay!!

I also put some French words, but not too much. I'm no professional nor am I fluent in French, so if there are any mistakes, do tell me and I'll change it!

Warning/s: Major Character Death (it's peaceful, dw-), Sad Rook, Possible OOC Rook, Female reader that uses she/her pronouns (idk if this counts as a warning but yeah-), Probably bad writing in angst (I tried-)

Fic under the cut!

Beep..

Rook still remembers everything about you. He's a hunter; of course he has to remember even the smallest, most miniscule detail. Although his memory of you never was due to his obligation as a hunter, but for his love for you as a man.

He knows how hard you'd work, even though some may say that you maybe tried to hard. He knows how no matter how exhausted you were from everything, you'd still smile and do your best to help others.

From how your smile lights up the room, to how your eyes shine like gems in the stars, all the way to your cutest of habits. Everything, He knows you like the back of his hand.

Beep..

Well... he almost knows it all.

He knows it all.

Beep...

The only thing he'll never know is how you loved. How it would feel for your warmth to always be near him, for even the darkest of moments and emotions to be shared to him.

He's always wanted you to be his, and for him to be yours. But alas, you always had eyes for someone else.

It's been years, decades, even, since he last saw you.

He is Rook Hunt, le chasseur d'amour!! To act against his amore was like an act of blasphemy against the queen. His queen. The unknowing queen of his heart never once asked nor desired his heart, but took it anyway.

Beep...

He remembers the last time he saw you very vividly. It was at your wedding.

You had personally invited him to your wedding, and as much as his heart ached to refuse, he wished to support you on your special day.

"Rook! I'm so glad you're here!", you had exclaimed when you saw him. He couldn't help but gawk speechlessly at your wedding dress; the beautiful designs, colors, and how well it went with your looks, everything was perfect. You were perfect.

As you walked down the aisle that day, Rook watched from the sideline, wishing he were there as your husband. Yet he knew that you wished him to be there as a friend. Not your lover, but your friend.

Beep....

Ever since then, Rook spent every waking hour thinking of you, and what could have been. When he wakes up, he always imagines what it would be like to wake up with you by his side. With you sharing a life with him. Maybe form a family too. All he knew was that he should have told you when he could.

Yet even cupid had to prick himself with his arrows to fall in love. Even cupid had to go through pain for love.

But Rook is no cupid, he does not give love. He merely chases it, the chasseur d'amour.

Rook Hunt is a hunter. There is no single thing he cannot find and be ignorant about. There is no single thing he has been unable to catch for himself. Except for that beautiful heart of yours, for the man always knew it belonged to another.

Rook has always wanted a life with you. A domestic, romantic life with his beloved. He wants to look at you everyday, and say, "Je t'aime pour toujours." And, indeed, love you forever, for he already does in his heart.

Beep.....

But he knows he has lost his chance. His beloved is too far out of his reach, likely never for him to gaze upon again.

Beeeeeeeeep.

And as he closes his eyes, he knows that he will still forever be satisfied as long as you are happy. No matter how painful it is.

Perhaps, had he been more confident, it would have ended differently.

.

.

Rook Hunt, died at ##:##, ##/##/##.

---

End.

Okay, so, incase you don't know, "je t'aime pour toujours" means "I love you forever". Please correct me if I'm wrong, though.

Thanks for the request!

Comments and suggestions/corrections are highly appreciated!

[moveslikebucky]

Oh no it’s time for me to post my season 2 thoughts that nobody asked for!

Under the cut because obviously spoilers. Not a very long post tho I’m not going into extreme detail here.

OK SO first off let me preface, as someone who mainly writes book omens content, I think it will be shocking when I say I genuinely loved everything about this season.

It took me a couple of days to digest and figure out my thoughts aside from that absolute GUT WRENCHING ending Jesus Christ but here’s the thing a lot of others have said too but in my goofy way of saying it.

This is 1980. We all just watched Han Solo get frozen in carbonite, watched Luke get his hand chopped off and find out the man he’s sworn to destroy to save the galaxy is his father, watched everyone be at their absolute lowest and then the credits roll and the familiar and beloved theme song plays and we’re sitting in the theater going ??????????

And we don’t get Return of the Jedi til 1983.

And we’ll all be fine and so will they, the triumph happens in the end, wouldn’t be a good story otherwise.

I have many nebulous thoughts but the main thing is I have been seeing a lot of people saying that our boys are completely OOC or somewhat OOC for the entire season or at least for that last 15 minutes or so.

And here is where I say something shocking again!

I don’t think they are at all, whether you’re looking at TV characterizations OR the original book ones.

Hear me out don’t get your pitchforks on me just yet.

In the novel, their character arcs are completed because it was always meant to be a fully stand alone novel. At the end of the book there is a full acceptance between the two of them and they actually talk to each other in a meaningful way but CRUCIALLY, a thing that was missing from the tv season, I think is where specifically they diverge.

In the book, when Aziraphale possesses the televangelist, and goes off the rails completely - that is showing in unequivocal terms that Aziraphale is rejecting Heavens dogma. He’s on the same page as Crowley now, and they stay on the same page through the end of the novel.

Neil knew, because it was what Terry wanted, that he was going to have to do the sequel they never did. The sequel that didn’t exist when they wrote the first novel.

Speaking as a writer, even knowing that Patton Oswalt was originally on board to play the televangelist, I feel like leaving that scene out was a very specific way to set up for what we have now.

Aziraphale ends season 1 ambiguously. If you had read the book you can take it as “hell yea they’re on the same page now!” And it’s a perfectly valid reading.

But…

You don’t have to. It’s not implicit. They’re still not really talking about things, just around them. Aziraphale is still shocked when Crowley thinks everyone will come after Earth, still has panic in his eyes until Crowley distracts him. Crucially, Crowley does not tell him what happened in heaven. He only listens to Aziraphale dither on about towels and rubber ducks.

Aziraphale had not broken fully free from his cult.

They’re leaving him alone but his bookshop is still and embassy. He’s still with them, in some small way.

I don’t think the metatron brainwashed him with a miracle (or that he’s been kicking about in reality). He didn’t need to do that when simple manipulation is all that it takes.

Show up and make the people who are mean to him look stupid, compliment Crowley and Muriel who he likes, extract him from his support system, make it seem urgent make it seem just this side of too good to be true of an offer.

The metatron has heard first hand just how much Aziraphale wants to change things, how he wants to do what’s right instead of what is Right™️.

He gives Aziraphale everything he thinks he wants right on a silver platter, including a way to protect Crowley.

Aziraphale accepting that offer is completely in character because, crucially, he is not at the same place in his character arc as he was in the book.

But the thing is, Crowley isn’t either.

Crowley is withholding EXTREMELY vital information from Aziraphale still for his “protection”.

Information that would’ve bolstered Aziraphale to not take that offer, really. Because these boys don’t talk.

I don’t have as much to say about Crowley here, his arc is also not at the same place as in the end of the book, but I see more people mad about Aziraphale’s so that’s what I wanted to address.

Anyway I loved it, and if u have read this far, thank you! Plz don’t leave a bunch of negativity in the replies here, feel free to disagree, but this is a thing I consume for fun and I don’t want to discourse about it I’m just posting my opinion.

[the-traitorous-prince]

I'm Nezha; the Third Lotus Prince, and hopefully, soon to be Jade Emperor

I'm working with the brotherhood to overthrow the Jade Emperor, though to be honest, they are just a means to an end. Feel free to ask any of them questions too.

MK, Wukong, and the others have no idea of my involvement, and I plan on keeping it that way. You can talk to them as well, but don't tell them what I've been up to; it'll be better for everyone that way.

Macaque is... Somewhere. I haven't been able to catch him, but I know he's been hanging around. I don't mind as long as he stays quiet about what he sees. If you seem him then feel free to talk, but I doubt you'll have much luck on that front.

STORY

Reason for Betrayal

Nezha's Opinion On The Brotherhood

Peng And Nezha's Beef Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The plans Nezha's plan Azure's plan Nezha's Supplemental

Sun Wukong Is Unavailable

Opinion on Wukong

What is Mei up To? Red Son Up To?

Time And Date

Something's Wrong...

The Encounter Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

The Garden Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

W̵̢̼̄h̸̻̓̀̚a̴̟͋͗t̸̲̮͕́̈͝?̶̡͙͋̂̕

Iron Mother Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

On The Subject of Family Part 1 Part 2 Part three; The real reason to rebel

Time To Act Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Tag Guide

#lore is what I use for plot relevant information; The most important information is going to be in Lore posts, but you may still miss some details. Most Lore posts will be linked above.

#story is for canon text that's not tied to an ask. Almost always lore relevant

#Pov (Character name) is for finding what character is 'answering' the asks

#ask are just asks

#meme are memes

#AMV is for edits and AMVs of the AU

#Ooc is for Out Of Character posts, which are written or directed to the author directly. If you want to ask the author something include occ someone in the ask

(Edits and fanfic under the cut)

THE PLAYLIST (With all the AMVs and edits)

THE FANFICS

[thebarnestwin]

Introduction

Hello, Tumblr. @the-superoriginal (main blog) here, technically. This is another rp blog of mine - yes, I know I have like dozens of blogs by now.

So, Joseph Barnes. That's my oc that I am playing here on this blog. He's Bucky's twin brother. Identical twin, by the way. And, yeah, I let myself be *clearing my throat* inspired by Sebastian Stan's other roles. I imagine him to look like Nick Fowler. (Seb's character in the 355.)

Timeline? MCU post-Endgame. But if requested also open to other time periods like the 40s or so.

Backstory

So, rules:

NSFW is not appreciated, which could change over time through, but when that is the case I write it down here. Currently it's just making me cringe knowing there's another person on the other end.

Violence is okay on the other hand. It can be detailed too. Just write it at best on the top then and make a cut under it. Don't want to accidentally traumatise minors, do we? Example: TW: Heavy gore

Current status of this blog is: No connections to other rp blogs. So, please don't write a Bucky rp blog or so 'Do you know this one?' or something like that. They most likely don't. Again, I write it down here if that changes.

I would like it if we would write in interactions third person and detailed. Like the chapter of a book. So, I know how it is meaned and get more material to work with. If we write out of character then please like this: ((ooc:))

That said... If you want to interact with Joseph, as in having a backstory with him like they already know each other because of whatever, then please write me in private first so we can talk about the details. 'Cause I, Joseph, will act as if we don't otherwise. I just can't/won't search for God knows for long for infos about your character/blog.

While I am not a part of the LGBTQ+ community, I want this blog to be welcome for everyone so please don't write homophobic, racism things and etc. here! We don't need to make live worse for others, alright?

[ask-the-tf2-mercs]

( pinned )

Do Not Reblog This Post

this post may update from time to time

Info About Shipping | Ask AUs | The Intern

(mobile users: use the link in my bio)

all OOC posts will be tagged: "//mundeez nuts" all fanart posts will be tagged: "//mannmail"

Asks will be posted at 10AM, 2PM, and 5PM CT (Central Time) Fanart will be posted at 12PM CT (Central Time)

( all info about the blog and mod under cut )

Blog Rules

"why hasn't my ask been posted yet?" I queue / schedule posts, and often I have several days in queue. chances are it's in there and will be posted at some point so I ask you to be patient. however, there is always the possibility it's one I deleted either due to me not knowing how to respond, or not feeling comfortable responding

this is not an RP blog. I may be roleplaying as the Mercs answering your questions, but please do not send asks roleplaying as yourself or your characters, and please do not reply to posts doing so either

please keep your questions directed to no more than three Mercs at a time. if you have a question for more than three, I encourage you to ask my main headcanon blog, doobnnoob-tf2 and I will go on and answer that for the whole team. this is because the Mercs will most likely be interacting with each other on the post and I don't want them getting too long

vague asks will be deleted. i.e, asks not directed at anyone in particular; "this is for whoever sees it", "for any of the mercs", "to whoever opens the letter", etc.

do not god-mode your way into forcing a reaction. this means either by spamming asks to try and change the answer to fit your narrative, or sending an ask where you detail out how you want the Merc(s) in question to react. this is a headcanon blog, accept I will respond how I think they would

there is no RED vs BLU. this blog follows "actual" canon, not in-game canon. as in, the comics. there may be asks that reference the BLU team but I will no longer be doing so to avoid confusion

transformation/"specific scenario" asks (for lack of better description) are their own AU. things like Pyro being a dragon, TentaSpy/TentaScout, etc. are all their own timelines separate from any general asks. this is to reduce people spamming "and now I've fixed it" asks in the inbox

do not tag/reply to/reblog a post with things like "kin" or "me" or anything of the sort, especially not "self-ship". it makes me uncomfortable

for personal reasons, I will not answer genderbent asks or child-related asks

no questions pertaining to Merc x Reader/OC/generic S/O character. I'm willing to tackle ficlets involving these topics, however I would prefer to be paid for them as they require a lot of work to get right

if you intend on reblogging a post just to "correct" it, I encourage you to simply make your own post. it's simply rude and uncalled for

this is a SFW only blog. do not send non-SFW or even suggestive asks. I will not give warnings about this, I will just block you - anonymous or not

you can ask other characters questions. Pauling, the Administrator, Saxton, Bidwell, etc. however these may not always be answered, depending on how well I feel like I can portray that character at the time

BYF

I wish to reiterate this: this is NOT a roleplay blog. please do not follow/interact with the hopes of roleplaying with this blog

that said, I may be willing to be lenient on the above rule in the future, but at this current moment in time I'd like people to respect this

I block pretty freely, plain and simple. I'm here to enjoy myself and my time as much as everyone else, and that means limiting people who indulge in content that makes me uncomfortable from interacting with my blog

if you are a proshipper, you're disgusting and fuck off. you're not welcome here

I may not answer every ask. either because I can't think of a good answer, or it's a topic I'm just not comfortable answering. but I will try to get to everything I can

I'm very picky about ships I'll answer things for on this blog, please see my shipping page for more information. and please do not tag non shipping posts as shipping

About the Mod

Daniel / Aster

he/vamp/bat, gay-ace transman

28, Oct. 6

CARRD

main tf2/headcanon blog ⛧ furry art blog ⛧ personal blog

I am open to roleplaying outside of this blog! however, only with people 18+ since I myself am an adult