#✑ ooc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bonne-chanson · 12 days ago

Note

YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD AEUGHHHHHHHHHH

sorry just needed to get that out

could I request (platonic) teruko with a hunting dog reader? on the job they're both professional and stuff but when they're not working they kinda have an older sibling-younger sibling dynamic. basically just teruko actually able to be a child

feel free to ignore this request if you don't want to take it! I LOVE YOUR WRITING BYEEEE

a/n: AAAAA TYTY that fukuzawa fic was my very first time writing for him (and my very first time publishing an x reader) so i was a lil too nervous abt the reactions i’d get 😭 glad you enjoy my writing! here’s the teruko fic you’ve been waiting for 🫶 i'm kind of scared for this one as well (maybe a tad insecure abt it too) since i'm not too close to teruko (somehow this ended up becoming another character study of sorts ackkk), but there was definitely an attempt. i just hope she isn't so ooc here... :c as always, feel free to read the notes at the end for my references and extra research!

a thousand paper cranes

✑ character/s: platonic! teruko ōkura x reader

✑ short desc: sadako sasaki tried to grant her own wish one day by folding a thousand paper cranes. at some point later down the line, teruko ōkura decided that she wanted to do the same.

✑ content includes: fluff ; sfw ; slight angst ; just some bonding moments between reader and teruko and their developing sibling dynamic ; slight (unintentional) character study(?)

✑ word count: 3.1k words

Sadako was born to be a runner. Her mother always said that Sadako had learned to run before she could walk.

And Teruko Ōkura was born to be a soldier. Gifted with the ability to manipulate her age and that of others — the perfect ability to make use of for interrogation and torture — it was only natural for her to walk down the path of violence from the very beginning.

Every praise earned, be it from their captain, from a fellow Hunting Dog or even a passing civilian confirmed it to be true. There was no place for her in normalcy, and so as long as her entire existence revolved around her ability, her duty, and her loyalty to the Hunting Dogs, there would never be a place for her in normalcy.

From the very first day you were recruited to become a part of the organization, it was something you took note of almost immediately. You'd been assigned to work under her unit for the first few months as part of your rookie training and often assisted her during interrogations — her specialty. No criminal taken in for questioning came out with their sanity in-tact, their eyes often foggy with horror and tongues limp from the shock. She reveled in that twisted skill of hers, of being able to draw out answers from some of the most calloused personalities alive by exhausting their bodies over and over again from constant aging and de-aging, and it was unnerving for you to witness someone with such a childish appearance take pride in the kind of job that bordered on psychopathic.

You were certain that such a thing would have already been investigated and laid to rest by the government, had it not been the government itself relaying those orders to the Hunting Dogs themselves, even permitting certain acts that go far beyond what's written in the Japanese constitution.

What a questionable justice system, you think.

And an even more questionable recruitment system within that system of justice to have a young girl take the lead for something so gruesome.

It was a rather traumatic session you had with the vice captain when your coworker, Jouno, had approached you, sensing the unease in your heartbeat.

"Sit this out a little longer. She's a good person — just... had to mature herself quicker than most, and not on her own volition," he told you. And when he felt your confusion from the stutter of your breath, he continued, "The vice captain isn't as deranged and numbed to brutality as she makes herself out to be. Give it some time."

You made no effort to reply, only humming a noise of recognition at his words before quietly treading up the next floor to give yourself some time in the washroom. Jouno was someone you trusted, after all; beyond being able to detect lies from heartbeats and breathing patterns alone, he also knew the other members better than you, after all, and was one of the very few people to hold an endless amount of understanding and patience for the vice captain.

The following week, when you were assigned to bring in another ability-using criminal responsible for data theft and aggravated murder from within the parliament, you did your best not to allow your muddled thoughts slip through to your expression. To no avail, however, the plum-haired girl commented on your appearance anyway.

"This filthier part of our job isn't exactly something you have to learn to take pride in at any point in time later on."

You could have sworn you saw her professionalism falter for the briefest of moments.

"...However, it is what's necessary when it comes to pursuing justice and order in this line of work."

All you could do was nod in response, taking the bag off of the unconscious man's head, and from there began another torturous three hours of nothing but agonizing pain and screaming. As always, you two managed to leave the room with all the information you both needed after putting the man to rest very quickly.

He was no innocent man anyway, you reassured yourself. And for sure, he was going to earn the death penalty by trial; slitting his throat was just a quicker way to end things for him and fix the little wedge in the system as soon as possible (by getting rid of it, of course).

You turned to look at the little girl walking alongside you as you both made your way to the captain waiting for the both of you in the meeting room.

Sadako was born to be a runner. Her mother always said that Sadako had learned to run before she could walk.

It was then and there that you finalized (did you, really?) your judgement of Teruko Ōkura in your head — Teruko Ōkura was a Hunting Dog born to be a soldier and a weapon for order, and a dog of justice to the government she would always be.

The next few hours of paperwork being filed and an adjourned meeting later were a blur. Praises from the captain himself punctuated the final conversation you had with the rest of your fellow Hunting Dogs before the two of you were able to earn a proper break, deciding to spend your time outside the building and out at a local café. It was the vice captain's idea to drag you there for some bonding time with you, her subordinate, and the first activity on the list was trying out some new desserts they had recently put up on the menu for the season — typical of young girls her age.

Admittedly, it was almost strange to see your superior gawking over a piece of cake before her as if she hadn't just conducted a three-hour torture session with a criminal less than an hour ago. Her face genuinely seemed a little brighter off-duty, and although it may have been just the late afternoon sun giving her eyes the twinkles you've rarely ever seen from her before (with the exception of whenever she received praises from Captain Fukuchi) and within the confines of the dark basement you two conducted torture sessions in, there was something about the way she childishly took to the desserts on the table that made your heart ache a little for the Hunting Dog before you.

So, as you take a few sips from the strawberry milkshake you had ordered a while ago, you begin to wonder—

How short of a time did it take for the world to twist her head beyond repair?

"Psst, hellooooo?" she calls, waving a fork with a piece of cake stabbed in front of your face. "Earth to [Y/N]? You good?"

When you don't answer, unable to think of a way to respond to her, she frowns.

"Don't tell me you're allergic to pistachio or something," Teruko huffs, eating the cake on the fork. "I paid more than I should have for these trendy Dubai chocolate cakes, ya know!"

You blink at her before stabbing into your cake with the fork to take a piece before putting it into your mouth. It was sweet, and delightfully so; your eyes widen a little and your expression brightens in response to its taste. You haven't been able to indulge in much sugar lately given the dietary restrictions for your mandatory monthly surgery.

Teruko laughs heartily at your reaction and grins, pointing her own fork at you.

"Told ya they were scrumptious!" she exclaims with pride. "I heard about it from a few passing civilians on the way here, and I figured we just had to try these after work!"

"Hm..." You chew for a bit before pursing your lip in thought. "I feel like it's a little too sweet."

Your vice captain scrunches her nose at your comment. "What? No, it isn't!"

"Yeah, it is," you argue. "Although... to be fair, the pistachio kinda balances the chocolate out, so it doesn't make it too overwhelming."

She crosses her arms at you with a huff. "Okay, well, which of the desserts on the menu would you have preferred?"

You mull the items over in your head for a little before giving your answer. "I think the apple crumble looks good."

"But there's no chocolate in that."

"Does it have to have chocolate for it to be good?"

Visits to the café after all those weekly interrogations and missions in general became a routinely thing for the both of you.

The more time you spent with Teruko, the more you saw through the façade she was forced to grow for herself, and in turn, the more time she spent with you, the more she found herself being comfortable enough to become vulnerable in your presence. With every dessert shared and every few jokes and gossip sessions in between, you came to realize that the girl before you was, at her very core, no more than what she would often present herself to be — just a child.

Sadako was born to be a runner. Her mother always said that Sadako had learned to run before she could walk.

Teruko Ōkura was born to be a soldier — not exactly the best route any child (or human being for that matter) should be brought up for, but everything about her from her ability to her natural (was it really, or was it just a product of subliminal stimuli and the environment she grew up in?) affinity for justice and order didn't exactly give her a choice (it was the government who never gave her one in the first place).

But still... she was born to be a soldier. That much you were certain of.

And one day, while taking a break from being in the headquarters and deciding to share some gossip with her about your coworkers (she was a lot like your little sister now, after all — it was only right for her to be in the know about how strange Tecchou's food combinations were or how Jouno made you feel a little iffy every now and then; she'd usually meet your comments with some snide remarks of her own or with a few teasing remarks every now and then as well), you find her eyes looking elsewhere, neither displaying that childish sparkling joy nor her hound-like alertness.

Curiously, you follow her gaze, only to find it focused on a group of schoolgirls giggling among themselves at the table next to yours.

They seem about her age, you think, and if not, then maybe a few years older, but still in either middle school or junior high. Schoolbags heavy with annotated books and messy notebooks are placed either under their table or beside their seats while they chat the afternoon away with conversations about upcoming exams and class crushes they plan to ask out for the next festival; phone charms jingle as they show each other some Instagram posts they decide they want to copy later for their own stories; one of them braids the other's hair, adding some cute clips to decorate it before taking pictures together; and the overall atmosphere around them just seems so light and airy that, for a moment, Teruko finds herself feeling a little left out despite never knowing any of them herself.

What catches her attention the most, however, are the folded origami cranes made from the tissue paper that came with their parfait servings earlier.

"A thousand of these should help make my wish come true," one of them had jokingly said a while back, "so I can ace that algebra test I've been studying so hard for this Thursday!"

For a long time, you stared at the younger girl before you, and both demeanors of her that you had familiarized yourself with over time — her childish persona and her professional frontage — quickly vaporized. All that was left before you was the empty shell of a child who never had the fortune of struggling through a math test, but instead was ill-fated enough to be acquainted with the struggle of being weaponized for militaristic purposes. That longing for normalcy made itself evident in her eyes, and you allowed the the feeling to sink in for a little longer before she shook it off, rapid as it came, and the two of you went on with your day.

You would never be able to get that picture out of your head now. The hollow sorrow that accompanied your little outing at the café wasn't exactly something you could shake off as easily as she had done so earlier.

Sadako was born to be a runner. Her mother always said that Sadako had learned to run before she could walk.

But Teruko Ōkura was born a soldier for the military, and that is what she will always be. All that time dedicated for schoolwork had been replaced by an obligation to her country's safety from the very moment the government had managed to get ahold her ability for their advantage.

At the end of the day, after having completed your rather mundane tasks of having to deal with lawsuits from civilians involving another group of ability-users and then scheduling and preparing for your next maintenance surgery, you bid your coworkers a good evening before deciding to search for Teruko to say goodbye to. Oddly enough, you couldn't find her anywhere, but the crumpling of paper echoing in the hallway eventually lead you back to the interrogation room in the basement.

And there she was with her back towards you, a pile of papers stacked to her left and some messily folded paper cranes grouped to her right.

She looked so small.

Carefully, you approached your superior, kneeling down beside her to watch her for a bit. The interaction between you two remained wordless for some time; she didn't really seem to mind your presence, not even when you initiated a conversation with her.

Your eyes follow the movements of her hands as she completes her seventh paper crane. "What are you doing?"

The plum-haired girl pauses for a short while before taking a new piece of paper to fold. "Well, I finished work early, so I thought I'd find a new hobby to entertain myself with," she explains before glancing at the chair nearby, a little pout forming on her face. "That other criminal taken in for questioning earlier didn't even last a good half hour, so I got bored."

"Not even half an hour?" you repeated.

"Nope."

It was a strange sight to see — a child mentioning the latest torture session she had presided over just a few hours ago while playing around and occupying herself with origami cranes — but when you realized that she was probably just copying what she had seen from the group of girls you had encountered earlier, wanting to make a wish for herself, that hollow sorrow came back to engulf the ambience between you two.

Sadako was born to be a runner. Her mother always said that Sadako had learned to run before she could walk.

And Teruko Ōkura was born to be a soldier. Unlike every other child in Japan, Teruko Ōkura was cursed with an ability far too violent for any child to take responsibility for. She should not have been born to be a soldier. Teruko Ōkura should have been born a child — not a weaponized vessel meant for the pursuit of bloodshed and meaningless, unnecessary cruelty nor a rabid dog with its loyalty tied to her country's government, but an innocent being deserving of a full life for no other reason than existing.

Teruko Ōkura should have been born to experience life as any other human being should. She should have been born to live through her childhood years without her brain being on survival mode almost 24/7, should have been born to attend regular schooling and have study sessions with her fellow classmates, should have been born to follow normal teenage trends, play video games with her friends until the early hours of the morning, participate in after-school clubs and watch firework displays at festivals, play ken-ken-pa with the neighbor’s kids, eat all the desserts she can without a care in the world about her next maintenance surgery—

And fold origami cranes without the intention of wishing for some semblance of normalcy in her life and instead simply because she wanted to find a new hobby.

She turns to face you, and for a moment, you no longer find yourself looking at your superior, but at a vulnerable young girl looking for answers, eyes as wide as a doe’s with the slightest hint of fear. With her usual personality, you’ve never seen such an expression like that from her before.

“…Do you think I’ll end up like Sadako one day?”

"Who?"

"Sadako Sasaki."

To end up the same way Sadako Sasaki went out meant to never be able to fulfill one’s ultimate dream — to never be able to experience childhood the way other children were privileged enough to.

You press your lips into a thin line, choosing your words carefully.

“No,” you respond, not for the sake of comforting her, but because you truly meant what you said. You don’t push for an explanation anymore — your reasoning behind your answer is not for any human language to translate because there is no possible way to fully express it.

So, you pick up a piece of paper and begin to fold, smiling at her.

"Here," you say, beginning to fold the paper accordingly, "I'll help you out with that."

Teruko watches you for a good moment before grinning and finishing up one of her paper cranes, then grabbing another piece of paper to fold. The smile came to her so naturally, it almost felt like she wasn't in the same room she would often conduct her interrogations in.

"Bet I can fold more of these than you!" she declares with a rather boisterous guffaw following her words — very characteristic of her childish personality. "I'm gonna get us to a thousand of these before you can!"

"You're on!"

Even if that meant blistering your hands from folding a thousand paper cranes with her, you'd make sure she would be able to live a life any other child is also deserving of outside her duties as a Hunting Dog. Teruko does not need to prove herself in any way for that. Her existence is enough of a ground to say that despite her upbringing and her job, she is just as worthy as anyone else when it comes to living a life of innocence.

a/n: anon i hope u know i really hurt myself writing this and i’ve never written for teruko before JDBDJDBDJ i am not so familiar with the culture they have in japan, but i remember my professor (who has some background involving japan) said that children are highly valued there and protection measures are taken in order to ensure their proper growth, so bsd having characters with very traumatic childhood stories is very ironic and heartbreaking with that piece of information in mind. as always, here is some more context behind the references used. i highly recommend you to read the material referenced!

✑ sadako and a thousand paper cranes: the "sadako was born to be a runner [...]" line came from the children’s historical novel written by eleanor corr. the story is based on a japanese victim of ww2 named sadako sasaki, who was diagnosed with leukemia after the hiroshima incident. she made it her goal to fold a thousand paper cranes so that her wish of living a full life could come true but sadly could not achieve it. i encourage you to read the full story here!

✑ one thousand paper crane legend: there is an old japanese legend that says if you can fold a thousand paper cranes, your wish can be granted. it’s quite the popular trope.

✑ ken-ken-pa: japanese hopscotch.

a/n: additionally, this took longer than expected because i tried to put as much thought into it as i could without straying too far from teruko's character. i care a lot about children in general and i wanted to portray them as very fragile beings here (because they are) so it helps put into perspective just how unfair teruko's (and a lot of the other characters in the show) situation is. i think the most difficult part abt this one shot was writing teruko being a normal child while trying to keep her as close to canon as possible because her entire character revolves around her having no childhood at all :((

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #hunting dogs bsd #bsd #teruko okura #bsd teruko #platonic teruko x reader #comfort #bsd fluff #fluff #siblings #reader insert #x reader

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rooksgambits · 4 months ago

Text

ROOKSGAMBITS; this is an INDEPENDENT, SELECTIVE, and PRIVATE SHADOW DRAGON ROOK roleplaying blog. written by bean (they/she). currently most up for DRAGON AGE and BALDUR'S GATE 3 rp. VEILGUARD SPOILERS PRESENT, but i will try to remember to tag them!!!

A STUDY IN: action girl; the anti-nihilist; beware the nice ones; chaotic good; dark is not evil; haunted heroine; jeanne d'archétype; pragmatic hero; soft is not weak; we help the helpless

✑ RULES » ABOUT » VERSES » HEADCANONS » MEMES

beta editor + xkit rewritten only! rules under cut, all else on carrd.

blogroll: @atomiqueen. @heartsdefine. @thanflowers. @thiefscant.

✒ REGULATIONS;

ONE. MY NAME IS BEAN/BEE. they/she. nonbinary lesbian. i’m 32, neurodivergent, and a full-time grad student with two jobs (so that will take up a lot of my time & energy). I’M WHITE. in the event that i fuck up and/or swerve out of my lane, i invite my friends and followers of color (or fellow white folks who are wiser than me) to let me know. i can and will do better.

TWO. SELECTIVE AND PRIVATE. this means i’m particular about who i follow and i will only write with mutuals. NOT SPOILER FREE. NO GODMODDING, metagaming, etc. EXCLUSIVITY IS RARE but not unheard of so you can find my mains/exclusives list here

THREE. I USE PRIMARILY THIRD PERSON PAST OR PRESENT TENSE, though i've been experimenting with second person more. when it comes to verb tense, i'll often check to see what my partner is most comfortable using and go with that. i can do one-liners or multipara threads, but longer things will likely take a bit more time.

FOUR. I SHIP CHEMISTRY, and i do not force ships because i’m not a monster. i definitely enjoy a good romance, but platonic and queerplatonic dynamics, rivalries, etc. are just as interesting for me to explore!

FIVE. IF I FOLLOW YOU, IT MEANS I LIKE WHAT YOU HAVE GOIN' ON AND WOULD LOVE TO INTERACT. it doesn't have to happen immediately, just down the line! i'll give most folks at least a week to follow back (thus indicating mutual interest in writing together at some point) before unfollowing. but if i really enjoy your blog/portrayal, i may stick around as a passive follower so long as i am welcome!

SIX. I PREFER TO BE HARDBLOCKED IF YOU NO LONGER WISH FOR ME TO FOLLOW YOU for any reason. this is so i don't assume tumblr unfollowed you for me and refollow, inadvertently crossing your boundaries. if i suspect someone has softblocked me, i will likely hardblock them myself to avoid refollowing in the future. i am generally quite liberal with the block button, as i'm serious about curating my online space.

SEVEN. PLEASE DO: BREAK YOUR REPLIES FOR ME UP INTO SMALLER PARAGRAPHS if we write together, as my adhd makes hugelong paragraphs difficult to read; ASK ME TO TAG YOUR TRIGGERS if i’ve neglected to do so (whether i’m following you back or not); LIKE MY STARTER CALLS, send me memes, turn my meme replies into threads (if we are mutuals); SHOWER ME IN PLOT IDEAS and ooc chatter; HAVE PATIENCE with me on all of the above; FEEL FREE TO UNFOLLOW ME at any time for any reason, as i will be reserving the right to do so myself

EIGHT. PLEASE DO NOT: USE SUBSMALL TEXT or multiple spaces between words in our threads as i find both difficult to read; UNFOLLOW/REFOLLOW to get my attention (it won’t be the kind of attention you’re hoping for); EXPECT ANY KIND OF IMMEDIACY FROM ME IC OR OOC. i love making friends via roleplay, but i’m one smol nerd just trying to have a good time and i won’t stress myself out by trying to keep up with everything at once. just know it’s not personal, and i’ll get back to you as soon as i have the energy.

NINE. I WILL GLADLY: TAG NSFW AND TRIGGERS appropriately and accommodate those who ask to the best of my abilities (most nsfw will be tagged #usfw with images also being tagged #nsft; triggers will be tagged #trigger tw and/or #trigger cw); WELCOME LGBTQIA+ HEADCANONS; USE MY SHITPOST TAG (#blacklist for less soft nonsense.) on most of my inane ooc content so feel free to block it.

TEN. I WILL TRY: TO REMEMBER IF YOU DON'T LIKE TO BE REBLOGGED FROM, but please note that I have ADHD and may forget. often and repeatedly. (a bit more info about this can be found here.) if being reblogged from on the reblogging website really bothers you, please feel free to block me as needed. relatedly, i don't really care if you reblog things from me that aren't in-character roleplay posts and/or headcanons. i do think it's polite to reblog a meme from the source if you don't send one in, especially if it's a headcanon meme, but i don't consider it a blockable offense.

ELEVEN. I WILL NOT: FOLLOW BLOGS THAT DON’T HAVE ANY RULES OR GUIDELINES set up; exceptions to this are reserved for muns i already know aka those whose boundaries i’m already familiar with; FOLLOW MANY BLOGS THAT INCLUDE CHARACTERS from game of thrones and/or house of the dragon, as i’m just not comfortable having a lot of ASOIAF content on my dash; exceptions to this are typically reserved for people i already know and/or multimuse blogs that include other fandoms/muses i’m interested in

CREDITS. icons / icons / icons / icons / icons

#ooc.#bean.#white.#they/she.#30+.#est.

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theshello · 9 months ago

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✑ ˚⊹・∘˙ ▀▄#Tags

⇩

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷shello

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ask

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷anon

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷anon {_}

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷post

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ooc

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷reblog

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷art

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atomiqueen · 9 months ago

Text

this is an INDEPENDENT, SELECTIVE, and PRIVATE rp blog for LUCY MACLEAN of amazon prime's FALLOUT tv show. written by bean. mainly show & headcanon based, as i slowly familiarize myself with the lore. oc & dupe friendly! NOT SPOILER FREE.

A STUDY IN: being neutral good in a chaotic neutral world; a variety of tv tropes (the pollyanna, action girl, martial pacifist, the golden rule, took a level in badass, the conscience, break the cutie)

✑ CARRD » ABOUT » HEADCANONS » MEMES

beta editor + xkit rewritten only! rules under the cut; everything else on carrd.

wandering the wasteland with: @radiaking

blogroll: @heartsdefine. @rooksgambits. @thanflowers. @thiefscant.

✒ RULES & GUIDELINES;

GENERAL: SELECTIVE AND PRIVATE. this means i’m particular about who i follow and i will only write with mutuals. my blog is semi-iconless (depending on the muse/if i feel like making icons or not). NOT SPOILER FREE. NO GODMODDING, metagaming, etc. EXCLUSIVITY IS RARE but not unheard of so you can find my mains/exclusives list here

WRITING: I USE PRIMARILY THIRD PERSON PAST OR PRESENT TENSE. i'm not entirely comfortable roleplaying in first or second person (yet). when it comes to verb tense, i'll often check to see what my partner is most comfortable using and go with that. i can do one-liners or multipara threads, but longer things will likely take a bit more time.

FOLLOWING/UNFOLLOWING: IF I FOLLOW YOU, IT MEANS I LIKE WHAT YOU HAVE GOIN' ON AND WOULD LOVE TO INTERACT. it doesn't have to happen immediately, just down the line! i'll give most folks at least a week to follow back (thus indicating mutual interest in writing together at some point) before unfollowing. but if i really enjoy your blog/portrayal, i may stick around as a passive follower so long as i am welcome!

BLOCKING: I PREFER TO BE HARDBLOCKED IF YOU NO LONGER WISH FOR ME TO FOLLOW YOU for any reason. this is so i don't assume tumblr unfollowed you for me and refollow, inadvertently crossing your boundaries. if i suspect someone has softblocked me, i will likely hardblock them myself to avoid refollowing in the future. (i am generally quite liberal with the block button, as i'm serious about curating my online space.)

PLEASE DO: BREAK YOUR REPLIES FOR ME UP INTO SMALLER PARAGRAPHS if we write together, as my adhd makes hugelong paragraphs difficult to read; ASK ME TO TAG YOUR TRIGGERS if i’ve neglected to do so (whether i’m following you back or not); like my starter calls, SEND ME MEMES, turn my meme replies into threads (if we are mutuals); SHOWER ME IN PLOT IDEAS and ooc chatter; HAVE PATIENCE with me on all of the above; FEEL FREE TO UNFOLLOW ME at any time for any reason, as i will be reserving the right to do so myself

PLEASE DO NOT: USE SUBSMALL TEXT or multiple spaces between words in our threads as i find both difficult to read; UNFOLLOW/REFOLLOW to get my attention (it won’t be the kind of attention you’re hoping for); EXPECT ANY KIND OF IMMEDIACY FROM ME IC OR OOC. i love making friends via roleplay, but i’m one smol nerd just trying to have a good time and i won’t stress myself out by trying to keep up with everything at once. just know it’s not personal, and i’ll get back to you as soon as i have the energy.

I WILL GLADLY: TAG NSFW AND TRIGGERS appropriately and accommodate those who ask to the best of my abilities; WELCOME LGBTQIA+ HEADCANONS; USE MY SHITPOST TAG (#blacklist for less soft nonsense.) on most of my inane ooc content so feel free to block it, that’s why it’s there

I WILL TRY: TO REMEMBER IF YOU DON’T LIKE TO BE REBLOGGED FROM, but please note that I have ADHD and may forget. Often and repeatedly. (A bit more info about this can be found here.) If being reblogged from on the reblogging website really bothers you, please feel free to soft/block me as needed. Relatedly, I don’t really care if you reblog things from me that aren’t in-character roleplay posts and/or headcanons. I do think it’s polite to reblog a meme from the source if you don’t send one in, but I don’t personally consider it a blockable offense.

I WILL NOT: FOLLOW BLOGS THAT DON’T HAVE ANY RULES OR GUIDELINES set up; exceptions to this are reserved for muns i already know aka those whose boundaries i’m already familiar with; FOLLOW VERY MANY BLOGS THAT INCLUDE CHARACTERS from game of thrones and/or house of the dragon, as i’m just not comfortable having a lot of ASOIAF content on my dash; exceptions to this are typically reserved for people i already know and/or multimuse blogs that include other fandoms/muses i’m interested in

MUNDANE: MY NAME IS BEAN/BEE. they/she. nonbinary lesbian. i’m 32, neurodivergent, and a full-time grad student with two jobs. I’M WHITE. in the event that i fuck up and/or swerve out of my lane, i invite my friends and followers of color (or fellow white folks who are wiser than me) to let me know. i can and will do better.

CREDITS: banner, promo, psd

#ooc. ( a suspicious lack of dragons )

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rosietrace · 2 years ago

Note

∅ for any or ur ocs opinions about Sybil! :]]

You got it, Basil!

Oc thoughts: Azrail Despoina on Sybil Yew

Character Featured: Azrail Despoina

Mentioned: Sybil Yew(@geminiiviolets), Idia Shroud

Warning(s): None tbh outside of potentially ooc moments

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

[ Reblogs > Likes ]

♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♛ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳✑ Azrail Despoina, dreadful spring

“Ugh, don't get me started on Sybil…. She isn't all that different from the rest of our dorm if you ask me. Plus, they're barely around outside of class most of the time. Then again, Idia barely leaves his room, so- Ah- I digress. What I'm trying to say is that I don't mind her being around, she just needs to work on some things.”

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱【 ♛ 】⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤†

➜ Azrail doesn't really care much for Sybil

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ He doesn't hold any animosity against her, he's just, like…. Really busy a lot

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ His schedule kind of prevents him from hanging out with anyone outside of his boyfriend — who happens to be his and Sybil's housewarden — and with how absent Sybil is most of the time outside of classes, that just kind of explains why they don't talk much — if at all

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ If anything, Azrail would be willing to hang around Sybil if she wasn't so keen on not attending classes

➜ Azrail's willing to help out Sybil with any subjects they're not that knowledgeable on, but is keen on making sure they return the offer

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Doesn't matter what class they're best or worst at. If Azrail's helping them out, he expects them to return the favor in some way

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ He won't automatically expect them to help him out with physical education — if anything, both of them are horrible at it

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ He just wants Sybil to, in some way, return the favor if he ever helps them out. With classes or not.

➜ All in all, I don't see them interacting much outside of the occasional mutual assistance. Azrail doesn't mind being around Sybil, he just wishes they get out of their comfort zone a little more.

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#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #azrail despoina #mutuals <3 #mutuals ask #mutuals asks #twst ocs #sybil yew #oc asks!#「🌹」 oc interactions

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ficlelis · 2 years ago

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When you’re making an entire paramilitary team and need icons for every single one of them T _ T

#✑ OOC #oh lord... guess I am making alts again

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thiefscant · 1 year ago

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all's well that ends...

#THIEFSCANT;; an independent, selective, and private roleplay blog for ANAIS EVERNIGHT, my tav aka the PLAYER CHARACTER from baldur's gate 3. my name is bean (32, they/she) and i will be your guide! pls don’t hesitate to approach with questions or plot ideas. i'm here for it all!

a study in: learning how to trust, moving from chaotic neutral to chaotic good, what's a god to a nonbeliever?, discovering life can be about more than just surviving but maybe there are some things worth dying for.

✑ CARRD » MEMES » HEADCANONS » PLAYLIST

beta editor + xkit rewritten only. rules under cut + everything else on carrd.

travels with: @bolyde. @crowshoots. @sacrificedmore. @stormlit.

currently playing: baldur's gate 3, act 3 (game unfinished) currently most interested in: canon/bg3 rp, dragon age rp, tolkien rp.

blogroll: @atomiqueen. @heartsdefine. @thiefscant.

...not as bad as it could have.

✒ RULES & GUIDELINES.

SHIPPING: I SHIP CHEMISTRY, and i do not force ships because i’m not a monster. i definitely enjoy a good romance, but platonic and queerplatonic dynamics, rivalries, etc. are just as interesting to explore! i am unlikely to ship romantically with more than two portrayals of a canon muse, so as to ensure things don't get stale for me or my partners.

PRONOUNS: ANAIS USES THEY/SHE PRONOUNS INTERCHANGEABLY. you will likely see me alternating between them in my posts, headcanons, replies, etc. if there is ever a time when this is too confusing (ex: I am writing opposite a muse who uses strictly they/them pronouns, making the prose easier to follow if I use strictly she/her for Anais), I am happy to use one or the other. If you find it too confusing to use both in your replies, our preference leans towards they/them (but she/her is also acceptable esp if your muse uses they/them also).

#!pinned.#!a suspicious lack of dragons. ( ooc )

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auberich · 1 year ago

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I like actually hate it here

#⋆❄ ✑ ☾ ooc. ☽#I’m going to put this down & try to write before I delete the whole file #I was going to but then lay the two images side by side & like #Okay maybe it’s salvageable maybe I can work w it #Im so bad w hair why is his hair so goofy !!!!!

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jbucky-barnes · 2 years ago

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taglist

✑; ooc - all posts out of character

❥; asks - all answered asks

✪; headcanon - all headcanons for my bucky

❀; nsfw - all 18+ related content

✿; sfw - all regular content

#✑; ooc

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asterism-codex · 3 months ago

Note

Ⅶ If you have multiple blogs and/or muses, which one is your favorite? Why?

✑ Do you prefer writing OCs or canon characters? Why?

✼ When it comes to worldbuilding, what are some ideas you’d like to explore in rp?

Ⅶ If you have multiple blogs and/or muses, which one is your favorite? Why?

My favorite of my current muses changes every other hour (with Reid having my attention currently). But out of all of my muses. >:3 A hard tie between Hisai and Haru.

✑ Do you prefer writing OCs or canon characters? Why?

I've never written canons before, to be frank. I want to, but I have a fear of my interpretation being OOC and getting hate for it. (っ◞‸◟ c) But I love getting to write my little sillies regardless.

✼ When it comes to worldbuilding, what are some ideas you’d like to explore in rp?

I think anything concerning Novas/the supernaturally empowered. I have an entire class dedicated to it. Catsuki is the mind behind a lot of science relating to it. Arina holds 'unprecedented' power and an extensive history surrounding Novas as a whole. And Alestria, despite not wanting to be one, is extremely curious about them and anything concerning the topic.

#ask: rubbarband #munday

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bonne-chanson · 11 days ago

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a/n: surprise surprise !! this wasn’t on the list nor was it requested, i just rlly need to get this off my chest. ik i said i won’t do anything so personally vulnerable on here (and that i don’t want any of that either in my inbox) but i just need to let this out in the safest possible way i can and know how to. this is really more on the reader than it is on nikolai

the lark ascending

✑ character/s: nikolai gogol x reader

✑ short desc: there’s something so inherently cruel about regularly clipping a bird’s wings for the sole purpose of keeping them close to the ground (based on vaughn williams’ composition of the same name).

✑ content includes: one shot ; angst ; comfort fic ; established relationship ; a lot of self-projection, no beta, this was all written in one go ; may be ooc nikolai ; heavy trigger warning for descriptions of depression, maladaptive daydreaming, self-harm, and strained familial bonds

✑ word count: 2.3k words

By nature, it is in every bird’s birthright to fly — to feel the wind beneath their wings, to cut through currents in the air, and to feel nothing grounding their feet.

And as is with every bird meant for the sky, you were also born with the birthright to live as you pleased.

From the very moment you had opened your eyes to the rest of the world as an infant, the rest of your future had already been decided for you. It was only right that your parents would give you a certain set of rules and values to abide by — they were your guiding lights in life, after all (or so they told you). Where would their beloved child be if not for their directions? They were the ones responsible for giving you life (not that you ever asked for it in the first place), for showering you with the kind of privileges that others could only dream of (you were never able to fit in because everything just had to be tailored to you), and for providing you with the kind of safety net so many people your age would go to hell and back for (yet the net binds your limbs in the process, never letting you go).

That feeling of guilt and the burden of a heavy debt towards them never left you, and for life, it would stay. They were only being protective, after all — they just love you so much, the thought of seeing you break at any point in your life would hurt them tenfold, they said. Of course, the price they had to pay to keep you in your most pristine condition (rather, the price you were groomed to pay) was your loyalty.

(The refusal to acknowledge the behaviors of your own mother and father toward you will always be there. Family is still family, as they say.)

Your wings were clipped as early as possible so that you would have never known what the cool breeze against your face would feel like, and thus, you would never learn to crave it.

By nature, it is in every bird’s birthright to fly, but that birthright was taken away from you the moment you were born.

You were meant to stay in a cage forever, or at the very least, fly low enough for your feet to keep touching the ground.

Most days, you’d stay cooped up in the comfort of your own room (your birdcage), and the routine was always the same — wake up, eat breakfast, do your work and whatever needs to be done for the morning and afternoon, take a bath, entertain yourself for a bit with whatever you have laying around, but you would almost always never come out of the confines of the four walls you had grown accustomed to. Your childhood bedroom slowly began to close in on you over time, but no matter how many times you’d plead to your parents to let you go, the request would always be shut down by a heated argument ending with the same phrase again and again:

“What do you know about the rest of the world?”

And you would retreat back into the nest of a bed you’d made for yourself because they were right and there was no other place for you outside of the one built specifically to keep you in, safe and sound. What would a caged animal, domesticated to bury its own instincts, know about what the world is like outside the enclosure it had grown up in? Every attempt spent trying to do things by yourself was either criticized heavily to the point where it became something you never tried again or they were condemned so terribly that someone else would have to take over entirely for you.

You would never learn, not because you never had the capability to, but because no one ever let you.

On most days, you would spend your time daydreaming. You would daydream so much that any lines between memories and whatever little imaginations you could come up with in your head would blur so terribly that reality was something you eventually became afraid of. You didn't know when it happened, and perhaps it was just the gradual familiarity of it all that you grew accustomed to, but at some point, you began to prefer whatever scenes and characters you could conjure up in your head over the mundanity of whatever you could touch.

Music was one way for you to keep your head busy and pass the time, whiling the hours away without much thought to productivity or responsibility while the all the different colorful sounds gave life to all the scenarios and characters you had in your head because goodness, the comfort of imagining all sorts of things you knew you'd never be able to do in your lifetime with all the restrictions you were imposed with became a drug to you.

Before you knew it, you had caged yourself in your own head in an attempt to find an escape from the actual cage you were in.

Your delusions were just so warm and inviting and freeing, allowing you to breathe without the kind of heaviness that you would often find yourself asphyxiating by.

Yet every now and then, the comfort of your own head wouldn't be enough to satisfy the desperate need to escape — the one that would always claw at the depths of your chest, almost as if trying to rip apart your flesh from your insides just to give itself some room to settle (you never gave it permission to, whether it was because your parents had planted their words so deeply into the crevices of your brain or because you didn't have the energy to give it the room it so desires, and that's exactly why it always hurts).

"It's almost sunrise now, you know," a familiar voice behind you speaks so softly, trying to blend his voice in with the gentle rustling of the leaves and the grass.

You turn to face none other than Nikolai, a friend you'd made out of nowhere one day when trying to ground yourself in your own body again after a numbing argument with your parents. Between daydreams and the idle passing of time, you'd long forgotten what your first meeting was like with one another or even how you came to meet, but his presence became a constant in your life, and it was the one piece of reality you'd be willing to get out of your own head for.

And before you knew it, over time, he had managed to worm his way into your calloused heart.

He takes a seat beside you as you lay still on the rooftop of your house — a secret meeting place you'd both silently agreed to hang around in every other night from the late hours of the evening to the early colors of dawn.

You shrug in response, not having much else to say, and the two of you share in a comfortable silence before he speaks up again. Normally, he'd be all jokes and jests, telling you stories about his "friends" (Fyodor and Sigma, as you remember, although by the way he describes them and their personalities, they didn't really seem too fond of Nikolai's rather extroverted personality), but he wasn't as stupid as he made himself out to be for fun a lot of the time and it was exactly why he could keep up with Fyodor when the situation called for it — right now, he knew that you needed company more than you did a silly jab.

"...Kolya," you call, the slow rays of the sun brushing over the horizon before you with gentle shades of purples and oranges, "what's it like to not be tied down to anything?"

He's quiet for a good moment, staring down at you while your gaze followed the movements of the colors that danced along the sky.

And then he answers as honestly as he can, "...Disorienting. Freeing, but you don't really know where to go."

"Is it scary?"

"...Sometimes."

Again, the silence visits the both of you. Neither you nor Nikolai make the effort to force any sentences into the ongoing conversation. Now was not the time for that.

So, only when you are ready do you decide to talk again.

"...It feels like... like I've grown so used to being trapped in here that I don't really mind it as much anymore." A shaky breath leaves your lips as you continue. "I want to get out of... whatever this is, I really do. This cycle feels so numbingly overwhelming. But I can't do anything by myself, I've grown too scared of not the possibility of not having anything to come back to or just freeing myself while having no direction whatsoever, I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing— I had ambitions I wanted to chase after, but the constant fight for it that my hellish reality requires from me has become so tiring over time that I think I'm slowly giving up and, well... my head just feels like the safest escape I can have for myself now."

An empty shell of a person you became, because no one ever allowed you the freedom to grow into the human being you deserved to be.

He purses his lip and scoots closer to you as you sit up to pull your knees to your chest and rest your head in your arms. "But that head of yours is still as terrible of a cage as it is the one you grew up with."

You can't bring yourself to admit that he's right, because then that would mean that nothing in your life had ever gone right, including your grown habit of finding comfort in your busy thoughts and daydreams. And he knows that, so he doesn't push.

Instead, he wraps his cape around you both. It's a sweet gesture, and compared to the deluding imaginations you drug yourself with most of the time and your childhood bedroom-turned-prison, him enclosing you in the warmth of his cape doesn't feel constricting at all. The feeling of having another human being sit with you when it's as though you've been desensitized to everything else around you is grounding — the numbness is still there, but that numbness cuts itself in half when shared with him, much the same way your little moments of joy (very few and far between nowadays) are doubled when he walks through them with you.

"You're not like me," he tells you, his voice simmering down into something of a soft murmur as you lay your head on his shoulder. "In time, when you decide to brave yourself enough to get out of your own head, I'm sure the world will treat you kinder than it did to I."

He pauses for a good moment, taking a good look at your face while the light begins to illuminate each contour, all the way from your eyelids to the apples of your cheeks and the curve of your chin, and even the self-inflicted scars littered all over your arms from all the days where you felt your only escape would be death.

Nikolai considered himself a free being (well, almost), undeterred by the restraints of both the internal and the external, but he'd long since accepted the fact that you made it difficult for him to choose between his own hedonistic tendencies versus you.

(You don't know it yet, but someday, he'll decide that he finds more of that light-hearted feeling in the freedom of choosing to be with you instead of the freedom of choosing to detach himself completely from every worldly thing he can think of.)

The two of you stay as you are, watching the sun rise and a lone lark in the middle of the stretched fields begin to take flight. Its wings flutter about for a good moment before it begins to flap with the intent of gathering some of the passing winds to support itself, every now and then stuttering in its captivating glide while it slowly but surely lifts itself into the air.

When its ascent is complete and it remains in the sky with its wings freely spread out, floating aimlessly as it relishes in the early morning light of the warm sun, you find yourself in awe, but you can't help the tears that wet your lashes and roll down your cheeks from the burning envy you feel.

It's pathetic, being jealous of something so small and so innocent, but to see a bird bask itself in something that was taken from you so early on in life makes your heart ache with the kind of pain that no amount of healing could ever fully take away — you're sure of it.

"I want that for myself, too." Your voice comes out as something so broken that he pulls you in closer to kiss your temple, letting it linger for a bit before pulling away to nuzzle his nose into your hair.

"I know." And you know he knows because it's something he's also wanted for the longest time, now no longer just for himself, but for you as well. "I know... Me, too..."

By nature, it is in every bird’s birthright to fly — to feel the wind beneath their wings, to cut through currents in the air, and to feel nothing grounding their feet. And although you were robbed of that birthright from a very early age, wings clipped with the purpose of training you to never crave for the kind of flight every other bird was so blessed to experience, the hope of regrowing the feathers you've never seen in full never left you.

Instinct and nature triumph over forced domestication, after all.

Maybe one day, you'll find yourself quick enough to flap your wings before anyone else can trim them again.

a/n: where i'm from, we have a term in our language for an internal debt of sorts, usually out of gratitude, but that debt makes it so that every relationship you have is contractual, and it's what makes it difficult for us to detach ourselves from even the most draining relationships with others — including family. nikolai actually isn’t in my list of favorites but he is def someone i would want to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with. i think there’d be at least some semblance of mutual understanding between us even if it does end in bloodshed (not his blood tho) lmao

the lark ascending is a piece for the solo violin accompanied by an orchestra composed by ralph vaughn williams. i used to listen to it a lot when i was in my early teens (maybe around 12 or 13?) and it’s become a staple in my repertoire ever since (i’ve yet to actually get around to studying it). back then, i’ve always thought of it as something so meditative and soothing, but now i can only associate it with a hollow kind of sorrow that i can’t exactly put into words. someday, i’d very much like to experience being that lark that vaughn williams wrote an entire piece about.

a/n: man sometimes i wish certain characters were real. i have a pet bird — she is a very sweet parrot. i sometimes wonder if she thinks about the same things i do

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #anime #manga #anime and manga #bsd #decay of angels #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai #nikolai x reader #bsd nikolai x reader #comfort #angst

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