#( crow yaps. ) ooc

[nightfaith]

i have my drafts all organized, i'm sorry for being terribly slow. been a low spoons time period for me lately. i'll get to things as soon as i can! if you want my discord feel free to ask me for it! 💙

[slowd1ving]

TALES OF A DISGRUNTLED CORVID ⁺ 　 . MOZE

Quite frankly, you've been assigned an absolute loser (unaffectionate) to work with after your dramatic exit from the Intelligentsia Guild. Whoever said this guy was too silent was wrong, as he verily proves himself as the bane of your existence with his ceaseless yapping. art credits to @code_tesseract on x!! and tagging @ilovechuuy4 as requested :3 pairings: moze + male cryptologist reader (will be part of a series methinks) warnings: male reader, mentions of assassination? may be a touch ooc since this is pre-release writing unfortunately, lowkey crack fic, pre relationship, business partnership of hating each other wc: 1.9k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

There’s never a dull day when a certain Shadow Guard is your partner for an assignment. Truly, your life always sparkles brilliantly when the information pings on your Jade Abacus; without fail, everything gains just a bit more colour, a bit more vivaciousness. Pathetically fallacious, you might’ve described it as had you taken literature classes: mood hued with such dynamic chromaticity that you fear you might explode into little prismic rainbows. Always such a bundle of joy to be geminate with him. 

“Must you be so… disorganised?”

Oh, who are you kidding.

It’s always a dull day when you’re paired with Moze.

“Get out.” A particularly rude gesture materialises in your open hand as you stare at the door he practically kicked down. Apartments in this particular sector of the Xianzhou Yaoqing do not come cheap, and you half-wonder whether he’d eke out coin to console your landlord. Then, with an especially sour, lemon-like expression, you realise he would fork out his own money just to make your life more difficult. 

When you first got assigned work in the Yaoqing (read: kicked to the curb by the Intelligentsia Guild to gain real world experience), you really did expect your tenure to be plain office work. Letters, forms, public relations—these mundanities you anticipated. In fact, you would’ve relished such tedium; after decrypting endless scientific formulae and pondering your mysterious tomes, engaging in bureaucratic matters would be a piece of cake! A little treat for your weary eyes—if you closed them, you could still see faint imprints of equations in the theatre of your mind. 

But what you hadn’t factored into your (ahem) calculations was just how sharp the Arbiter-General Feixiao was: just how passionate she was about pursuing Abominations and ruthlessly eliminating them, just how frank and swift the Madam General was. You also forgot that out of all the flagships, the Yaoqing were one of the most militarily driven. A blunder most fatal. 

“Thy talents would be wasted in the mere administrative wing,” Feixiao gesticulated. “Come, child, put thy brain and brawn to use and track down these villainous curs most evil.”

“Goodness, Madam General!” you’d cried out pitifully. “My heart is thine for the keeping!”

Or something like that. Actually, it may have not all been like that. 

After all, you were kicked out (temporarily! temporarily!) partly due to your penchant for delivering heart-rendering performances to your professors to avoid taking on their extra work. Such moving renditions, that they had to let you go lest you broke their bleeding hearts. Had you known you’d be working in the shady corners of intelligence and decryption, you would’ve kowtowed to the Guild for utmost forgiveness. Probably. 

When your path first overlapped with the Shadow Guards’, you honestly couldn’t give two hoots about the rumours that followed silently behind their own noiseless steps. Your ears had perked somewhat at the gossip your colleagues threw back and forth—though, who could blame you. The job was no fun!

Weirdo with the crow feathers, they’d murmured. He’s so quiet. What a reticent chap. 

Of course, you’d disagree, and perhaps tack on a loser to the descriptions of Moze. You’d disagree not with the ‘weirdo’, but rather with the quiet and reticent adjectives—partly because he really does need to shut up more. 

And he needs to stick to his rumours more. If this loner’s made it a point to not work with people, then why oh why did the honourable Madam General decide your ancient science and study complemented his shady skillset? And why oh why does he never refuse her request? (You’ve conveniently forgotten how you always fold when it comes to her.) You’ve always worked alone too, for as long as you can remember; decoding the ancient equations in ruins and solving their gimmicky puzzles using your boundless wits is a job for one. 

As it stands, the people he investigates, the work he takes care of, sometimes intrudes into the realm of questionable rituals and summonings the Abominations and their ilk oft partake in. Thus do you find your career verging into some gruesome form of forensics as you stare down what would commonly be considered a murder scene: sigils and ancient alchemical algebra staring right back at you. He deals with the human aspect of intelligence: the psychology, the crime, the covert espionage. You deal with the technical fallout: the analysis of antique sciences is your specialty, after all. This has culminated in a begrudging partnership where both parties wish nothing more than to leave it. 

A business relationship, of sorts, founded on the mutual dislike (a weak description) of each other. 

“No.” He doesn’t budge from where he leans against the doorframe, but he does have the decency to swing the door closed behind him. Yet, it’s not out of any respect for the hallowed sanctity of your abode, but more because he’s sooo Mysterious and Aloof that none of your neighbours are allowed to view his visage. 

“You are—” a quick glance at your watch proves your point. For someone obsessed with keeping tidy, he sure does have messy time management. “—eighteen minutes too early.”

“And you still aren’t ready,” he counters, pointedly eyeing the loose shirt and comfortable cotton trousers slung over your hips. You yawn, tired already from his yapping. He’s been compared to a crow for as long as you’ve been here—and perhaps far longer—but to you he’s always been more like a little dog. Yap. Yap. Yap. 

This is precisely why I don’t work with others, you can almost taste his words—his thoughts. 

“You are currently the biggest hindrance to my getting ready,” you grimace. Casting a quick glance over his intricate garb, it’s no wonder he feels getting ready is such a lengthy endeavour: all straps and buckles and tough layers that makes him the walking fortress he is. “I’ll be on time.”

He doesn’t reply: laconic only when he acknowledges your point as unequivocally right, which is seldom. 

“Are you going to keep staring?” you snap as you sling the worn shirt from your body. Beneath the soft clothes is muscle hard-won through your frequent collaborations with the Armed Archaeologists in the Guild: days filled with more sparring and their stupid callisthenics than actually finding ruins. 

“Do you have to dress right here?” he counters, but it’s a futile argument—this apartment is barely big enough for you as it stands. Currently, he’s situated by the doorway, but you’re on the unseen boundaries of the living room and the tiny kitchen. Beyond is your bedroom and miniscule bathroom, of which neither have enough space to move comfortably to change. And you certainly aren’t going to sacrifice your comfort to appease his poor eyes; he’s seen worse for sure. Though, you doubt he’s ever seen a naked body that wasn’t in the context of assassination and the anatomy classes you know he’s meticulously attended for his shady work. Surreptitiously, you snicker at the thought: that there aren’t any lovers lined up for this weirdo. 

You toss the garment onto your couch, precisely because you know he’s grinding teeth over it; and there’s that tell-tale click of molar against molar. You even whistle a bit as you untie the neat bow holding your trousers to your hips; the fabric pools on the floor, and you don’t make any move to pick it up. 

There it is. His glower—red-hot and piercing through the flesh and sinew of your back—is heavy in this small space. What you don’t see, however, is how his eyes flicker briefly across your body, down the firm step of your legs as you step out of the trousers. Out of context, watching muscle ripple and twist as you strip forces crimson to seep into his face. This is an implication he’s absolutely disgusted with—with you. 

“If you have any more input as to what I do in my home, you’re welcome to pay my rent first,” you finally deign to reply, rummaging in the dresser in your hallway—which he knows has never been neat with all the clothes spilling from the edges. His eye twitches. 

“You’re an incorrigible man,” he retorts, carmine flush now from irritation rather than anything else. Irritation from the beginning, because it was never anything else. 

“Wow,” you blink, weighing your options between shirt A and shirt B. The cherry-red with straps, or the Prussian blue with straps, you muse, holding the shirts against your beloved grey cargoes. “You sound exactly like my professor. Same adjective and everything.”

When it comes to shameless people, there comes the very real risk of insults being nullified by the insulted through them simply agreeing. 

“No wonder the Guild kicked you out.” As you’re pulling the scarlet fabric over your head, you pause—it seems he’s finally hit a nerve. There’s a rare smile toying with his lips at the victory: one he doesn’t notice, but ghosts across his face nonetheless.

Now, there are many things you could reply to that with. Such as, did your parents give you a reason when they abandoned you? Nay, that is too low of a blow. No wonder you don’t have any friends. But he probably grapples with that bitter reality each morning, gnashing his teeth and beating his chest. 

“Bold of you to speak of being unwanted,” you comment matter-of-factly. Both insults it is then, wrapped neatly into an ambiguous tale of these eight words. His smile fades. 

With a slight gasp, you finally wrangle the tight material on—it’s armour, after all, a specific textile development by the Yaoqing for the protection of civilians and tourists alike, though you aren’t considered a tourist by your special work-abacus-plaque. It fits snugly against you: straps for knives sit tight against your forearms, while the harness that provides extra support for your torso rests neatly beneath your chest. The garb’s almost like a compression shirt from your home planet, except the Yaoqing has far more violent uses for it. 

“Didn’t Guard Zhí reject you?” He bites out, and it takes a minute for you to realise he’s talking about Zhí Hua, the best friend you’d made on the flagship—and your Shadow Guard drinking buddy. 

“Huh?” Dumbfoundedly, you pause in doing the buckles on your trousers, losing far more time than you’d bargained for. “A-hua is my friend.”

The diminutive doesn’t go unnoticed, which rankles him far more than falling prey to the rumour about you and his fellow Guard. No, both rankle him—likely because hearing about a workplace romance about you just disgusts him in general. 

“Pfft,” you snort out, finally done with the laborious task of adjusting the materiel and various other gadgets attached to your body. “I have got to tell her about this. Who knew your ability to gather information would be stopped by a rumour?”

The tightness in his chest lessens somewhat. 

“Besides, everyone already knows my heart belongs to the Madam General,” you sigh, clasping your hands to your chest in a dreamy gesture. It’s an ongoing joke: you professing your deep adoration of Feixiao after she gives you a pay raise for putting up with the so-called ‘reticent’ Moze. “Woah, what’s with the sour look?”

“Gross,” he mutters. 

As you step near the doorway to grab your boots, you lean into his space mockingly: and he recoils back in even more revulsion. 

“Of course, you wouldn’t know.” You pat his shoulder once, condescendingly, then promptly slip your heavy boots off the shelf. “Since there’s no one who loves you.”

And his glare as you shuffle your shoes on is poignant. 

 ₊  ⋆   ☾

[ryan-unofficial]

Ooh? That's really rare! Did you know that there's a 1 in 30,000 chance of seeing an albino crow? That must mean you are extremely lucky to have found one!

GUUUUUUYS!!

GUYS

GUYS!!

I FOUND A WHITE CROW!!! IT IS BEAUTIFUL AND ELEGANT!

I WILL SEE IF I CAN BECOME FRIENDS WITH THE CROW!

[leoonyoom-writesstuff]

a trailblazer's trotter ┇ honkai : star rail

in which the elated one chooses a creature to become THEIR emanator. THEY repeat THEIR actions once again, but this time, with a trotter.

"HAHAHA! maybe this time it'll join the genius society!"

warning/s : possible ooc?? also this is short ngl.

[ a. n. ] ok so i have no idea where i was going with this, but all i had in my mind is trailblazer having their own companion, kinda like a pokemon, and that manhwa where that lady got transformed into a crow. i have no idea how those two connect but, fuck it we ball.

➶-͙˚ ༘✶

trotters. cute, interdimensional creatures lost in the stars. cowardly as well, since it spends most of its lifetime feeding and fleeing. but for some, they consider these creatures as good omens, or their companions, on their travels in the vast galaxy.

which is why THEY, the elated one, are curious about these little guys. these silly, little guys. aha chortles at THEIR words, masks and props and cards and all sorts of fun knick knacks jingling and swishing and swirling around the aeon.

and so the aeon spread out THEIR arms, masks searching for an unlucky trotter to be the victim of their fun. THEY searched and searched, high and low, casting THEIR gaze far and wide into galaxies that THEY know.

aha smiles with mischief. what if THEY gave one of these creatures sentience? give it fathomless intelligence, just like THEY did to that tiny noblesse worm. maybe this time, it can join the genius society, and then the universe will be shocked that a cowardly creature such as a trotter caught the gaze of that hunk of junk instead of a human! oh how hilarious would that be to see! aha laughs with tears in THEIR eyes as THEY get amused by THEIR mischievous thoughts.

those who follow the elation sense a change in the atmosphere, and they immediately knew that it was related to their beloved aeon. inside a tavern, many laughed in anticipation, eager to see what their elated one is about to do. “oh i do hope the laughter will use bombs and explosions!” one fool said in glee as she giggled and twirled around and around, fiery sparklers enhancing her joy even further.

hundreds of galaxies away, a lonely trotter walks on a path in an unknown planet, mind fixed on doing two things: flee and feed. but it was getting to the creature, and so with a sad, little ‘oink’, it sat down on the ground and looked up in the vast sky, shiny ears falling down in misery.

it sniffed, curling up in itself as the loneliness got to them. it doesn’t know how long it was traveling, but it knows that it was too long to count. or remember.

before the innocent trotter could continue to wallow in its pity party, the aeon of elation had finally arrived. loud noises accompanied THEIR arrival, making the creature scramble away from the eldritch being in front of it, body shaking in fear as it tried to make itself as small as possible.

aha cackles with elation. finally, THEY have found it! the perfect trotter to become THEIR emanator. with a wave of THEIR hand, the aeon gave the helpless creature the entirety of THEIR path’s power, just like THEY did to that worm. with a giggle of glee, aha ascends to the stars once more, taking the trotter with THEM as THEIR elation spreads throughout the mind and body of the creature.

let’s see if you can surpass that worm, little trotter. 

with a final laugh, aha sends the trotter to the place of one genius society member, THEIR elation being felt all around the cosmos once again.

➶-͙˚ ༘✶

[ a. n. ] like, i really had no idea where i was going with this. but i do plan on making this a full fic, where trotter gains sentience, joins the express, becomes the mascot 2.0... like pokemon but trotter. and an emanator. a trotter emanator. its why i tagged this as an x reader (even though it will most likely be platonic).

anyways! enough yapping from me. what do u guys think? should i continue this or just... idk, leave it as it is?

[booksooks]

𝑳𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓: 𝑫𝒂𝒚 2

Author's Note: Hi friends, second part up on time? What? Who am I, god? Anyway, it's Toga's debut in today's piece, I hope you enjoy :)

Contents: College!AU, all characters depicted are STRICTLY 18+, no use of "Y/N"/any other variants, and possibly wildly ooc characters. I apologize for this. Light swearing.

Word Count: 2046

Summary: Entering your second year at college, only a few months after being broken up with, you weren't expecting anything special. Especially not in the romance department. But then a quiet, but friendly-enough boy on your floor catches your attention faster than you would like to admit. And oh, boy, are you in deep.

Waking up the next morning wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would be. Gentle sunlight streamed in through your windows, and all was quiet. It definitely wasn’t normal for your expectations of college, last year your roommate had insisted on blaring all sorts of TV shows and movies or music at any hour she pleased. You hadn’t minded, since whenever you were actually studying she had put earbuds in, but the silence was certainly a new sensation.

You took your time getting up, as your first class was only at 11am, which gave you ample time to wake up and rub the sleep from your eyes, and maybe hang out for a bit on your phone before taking a shower, and doing your makeup. You then arranged your hair the way you liked, poking at a strand that just wouldn’t lay right until you gave up, leaving at 10:30 to get to the building on time. Things were actually going really well, considering.

You got to class entirely too early, and resigned yourself to sitting on the floor in front of the doors as you waited for the professor or other students to show up. You weren’t alone for long, however, as a bubbly looking girl in as much pink as she could have had on skipped up. Her ashy blonde hair was tied up in two messy moon buns, and she had the cheeriest look on her face.

“Hi!” She crowed, waving at you on the floor. “Is this oceanography? Room 231? I’m Himiko Toga, by the way, nice to meet you! You can call me Toga.”

You looked up at her and waved back. “Yeah, I think so. At the very least it’s room 231.”

“Cool!” She brightened. “I’m a freshman, so I’m still learning my way around. This campus is so big! Especially compared to my highschool, which was only one building. I was afraid I’d be late.”

Toga continues chattering for a few minutes, putting her backpack (also pink), down on the ground to give her shoulders a rest as she talks about how she was supposed to dorm, how she had several friends here which was a major reason as to why she even chose this school, and how excited she was to make new friends, and would you be hers?

You couldn’t help but get caught up in her infectious positivity, and before long you were yapping along with her, of course you’d be her friend. And then it wasn’t long until the professor, an older woman with graying hair who walked slowly and talked with the same cadence, shuffled up to the doors and asked you and Toga to open them as she dragged a cart behind her on a dolly. The three of you settled into the room, the professor making small talk with Toga about her experience with college so far and the first few introductory days as a freshman. You were setting up your computer, so completely focused on trying to get the damn wifi to work, that you didn’t notice when the door opened and someone slipped in. But Toga definitely noticed, and she squealed, making your head jerk up.

“Tomura! I can’t believe you’re in the same class as me, already! This is gonna be so fun!” Toga nearly climbed over the tables to get to the man, wrapping her arms around his torso affectionately.

Shigaraki, to his credit, didn’t brush her off immediately, and even wiggled one of his arms free to awkwardly give her a side hug back. She let go as soon as he started trying to pry himself free.

“Hi, Toga,” Shigaraki greeted, much more quietly than Toga had. It was then that he had noticed you, and he gave you a few quick glances before looking away, moving further into the room to sit next to Toga. He gave the professor a quick nod and introduced himself before setting up his own computer, tuning Toga out as she shook your shoulder lightly.

“This is one of the friends I was talking about! His name is Shigaraki Tomura, but I call him Tomura because we’re besties,” she explained excitedly, and you didn’t really have the heart to tell her that you two had already met. Before you could say anything, however, Shigaraki spoke up in that soft, raspy tone of his.

“We met yesterday.”

Toga gasped excitedly, clapping as she smiled brightly. “Ohmygod, really? Ooh that’s so exciting! Now I have two besties in the same class, we can study together!”

Shigaraki glanced at you then, shrugging before turning back to his computer screen. The professor had been setting things up this entire time, and there was a powerpoint on the screen about plate tectonics. Several other students you didn’t know had also been steadily filtering in, taking up most of the seats around your little trio.

“Sure,” you told Toga, motioning for her to sit down. Class would be starting soon, it was 10:58. “I don’t mind if Shigaraki doesn’t.”

“I don’t,” he said quietly, and Toga took that as her signal to whip out her phone and make a group chat, already texting emojis in it with speed. “Put your phone away,” he muttered, pulling out his own phone to clear the now 10 notifications from the group chat. You sighed and finally got connected to the wifi, just as the last student came in sheepishly and sat down in the front of class, and the professor started introducing herself before roll call.

50 minutes later, and some very confusing instructions and explanations from the professor later, you were dismissed for the campus’s common hour.

“Let’s get lunch together!” Toga pleaded, already bouncing on her feet to get going as you and Shigaraki put your laptops away and stood up.

“Sounds good to me,” you agreed, following Toga out of the building. Shigaraki hadn’t said anything, but he followed you both out to the path without protest, so you took it as a sign that he was also down.

And so, the three of you made your merry way down to the commons, where there were several food chains open, along with… almost every other member of school. It was crowded and hot and loud, and you winced, almost losing sight of Toga as she dragged you along like she knew the place like the back of her hand. Which, was weird the more that you thought about it, because wasn’t she a freshman?

Either way, you wished for earplugs or something, scrunching your shoulders up to avoid touching anyone and making yourself as small as possible. Toga didn’t seem to notice, despite looking over her shoulder several times, and you tried not to be too annoyed. She was probably just excited and hungry. Shigaraki, however, did notice, and he held his sweater-clad elbow out for you to hold onto wordlessly. You take it gratefully, fingers curling into the soft fabric and trying to ignore how fucking solid he felt underneath, despite his lanky build. God you were touch starved.

You swallowed heavily and let Shigaraki somewhat bulldoze his way through the crowd. He was pretty tall and in his all black outfit he was more than a little intimidating, so people got out of his way like you were both surrounded by an invisible, protective bubble. You clung onto him tightly, incredibly grateful that people were less inclined to bump into you or push past you now that you were hanging off of Shigaraki’s arm.

Eventually, you finally caught up to Toga, who had somehow already bought herself a serving of sushi and a strawberry Fanta (sidenote, who actually liked those things? You had tried one during your freshman year and were barely able to finish the damn thing). She beamed up at the two of you, and was about to say something when she saw you hanging off of the crook of Shigaraki’s arm, and you let go like he had burnt you. Toga’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and then she was moving on.

“I’m gonna go find us a place to sit!” She chirped, leaving you and Shigaraki behind, again.

You sighed and motioned for him to go ahead of you, which he took, also getting a container of sushi, and a monster, before checking out. You thought he was going to leave you behind to fend for yourself, but he stopped just outside the little cafe, waiting. You did your best to hide your smile as you acquired your own food and drink, paying for them and smiling at the cashier who looked like he would rather be anywhere but there at that very moment before you caught up with Shigaraki. He looked only a little less bothered when you stepped up next to him, and then once again he used his presence to clear a path to the little booth that Toga had claimed.

“How the hell did you snag this?” You asked, sitting next to her, as Shigaraki slid into the seat across from you. “These are normally never empty at this time.”

Toga smiled at you as she broke open the flimsy wooden chopsticks, and Shigaraki did the same. “Some people were leaving just as I got here,” she explained, bringing a piece of sushi to her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing. “And so I just sat down and threatened to stab anyone who asked if they could also sit here!”

You blinked at her incredulously, and Toga continued eating as if she hadn’t just told you she tossed around threats like she was talking about the weather.

“Is that normal?” You asked Shigaraki. He nodded, unperturbed, and shoved two pieces of sushi into his mouth. You gaped, blinked, and then decided if someone who’d known her since at least highschool said it was fine, it must be fine. Relatively.

The rest of your lunch is completed with more chatter from Toga, with you and Shigaraki occasionally giving input or asking her questions. The time flies, and soon you were all nursing your drinks, a neat pile of trash to be thrown out when you leave at the edge of the table. Toga is talking excitedly to Shigaraki about a game he’s… making? Playing? You had stopped paying attention after a while, letting the two friends catch up as your social battery depleted. You checked your phone, for a lack of anything better to do, and jolted when you looked at the time.

“Holy shit, it’s 1:50, I gotta go,” You exclaimed, cutting Toga off mid-sentence. The panic in your voice was unmistakable as you hastily shoved your phone into your back pocket, the screen dimming abruptly. You slung your backpack over one shoulder, the straps digging into your skin as you scrambled to gather your things, and with one last glance at Shigaraki and Toga, you snatched up the crumpled pile of trash from the table. Your movements were sharp and erratic as you waved absentmindedly at them, making a beeline for the door. You sighed and hurried your pace, mentally mapping out how to get to the library from where you were.

Just as you were about to push through the exit, Toga’s voice rang out, slicing through the clamor of the hallway: “Text us!” Her tone was light-hearted, but there was a pleading tone to her words that made it clear she already wanted to keep in touch with you. You threw another quick, half-hearted wave over your shoulder, barely registering her shout as you broke into a light jog. Unfortunately, people didn't get out of your way like they did with Shigaraki, and you were forced to dodge and weave until you got outside and were able to move around people more freely.

You’re not early, or even on time, by any means, but then again neither is the professor apparently, as he walks in 5 minutes late.

It’s not until hours later, when you’re back in your dorm, relaxing on your bed when you realize that you never texted Toga back. You quickly ran to your messages, and typed something out.

You smiled to yourself and put your phone away, getting ready for bed. Friday could not come soon enough.

End Notes: I hope you enjoyed :) Please let me know if you have any thoughts or comments, I'd love to hear them!

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ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK TO ANY SITE.

[theclassiestcrow]

MASTERPOST

𓅪: Hello, Tumblr! Is this thing on? Why am i using speech to text one- eu - er - there

𓅪: I'm just your usual crow looking for some evil work! ( It's REALLY hard to get work in a secluded frost surrounded grove right now, and selling vegetables is not bringing in alot of cash :<...)

𓅪: Hero's DNI your work is boring and i'm NOT handing people into the cops for stealing a singular loaf of bread. Plus evil work is fun the villains get monologues i can listen to :DDD

𓅪: Oh, right, info about me, err, I live in a little grove, i'm not that keen on shiny things, I can definitely fly 100% i'm just uhm slow!! also I live with about 4 raccoons i may be fur ridden at all times.

OOC;

This is my first RP blog it will be improved upon, some character info down here:

the blog owner is Olivier, he/him, not an actual crow, just a hybrid between a crow and a human. His entire shtick is that he has wings but can't fly. (and is VERY adamant to not admit it.)

In character will be typed as:

𓅪: Example Text.

again, first RP blog, I'll also probably be a bit awkward starting out. Main is @nighttheneko because i nearly forgot to put it here.

BYI:

I'm a minor. Full stop. so no creeps, i've had to deal with them in the past, i'm not doing it again, shoo, begone!! curses be upon yee!!!

DNI:

The usual homophobes, transphobes, racists, etc etc, i don't have any specific dni's so it's mostly the usual phobe's and cist's and creepo's.

TAGS:

Crow Yapping: IC talking, silliness, etc.

Crows Answers: answering asks.

The Grove: an excuse to show off my minecraft build of the Grove, aka the place this character lives.

[sharkbytee]

📌.⭐ : 🦈🕊️ (15/12)

russett & crow, [ @m1lkt00th ], oc-centric & art-centric sideblog

it/its . they/them . he/him . pup/purr

masc/neutral terms preferred!!

⚠️ may post suggestive work here

─── ☆ ─────────────

☆ tags !!

#dog yap — asks or textposts #dogprints / #my art — any art #oc: [name] — for searching.. im not listing all their names here #[story name] — all characters within one story/setting [masterlist] example: #band kids diablere & #band kids #sticker book of diablere — general tag for ocs without a main story tag / main tag for ocs if you want to block

#🦈 & #🕊️ — sign offs #reblog — for reblogs #my oc / #my ocs / #oc / #ocs / #original character / #original characters — self explanatory #my sona / #sona — self explanatory #not ocs — anything that doesnt include ocs #ooc / #non canon — out of character / non-canon work

─── ☆ ─────────────

credits . sharks !!

[reyes-is-dead]

[it's been a very, very long time since I've written for any fandom, never mind Overwatch, so I wanted to repost here something I drabbled in Discord for a near and dear friend of mine.

And saying that I feel the need to preface it with a little OOC blurb as I'll be using tags for this drabble and quite frankly I'm too old and tired for the usual discourse that comes with the bullshit of a small, insignificant niche of gatekeeping jackals that yip and yap over every little mote of annoyance they snatch out of context. So to all those mangey jackals, kindly fuck off, block me and continue to circle your drain of ugly hatred and loathing elsewhere, thanks.

I withdrew from Overwatch well before all the bad shit that went down with Blizzard, Activision. I do not and will never condone the heinous and disgusting actions that were finally brought to light, and I will always support victims and witnesses to come forth and speak up and report the injustices that have been wrought upon them.

With that being said, I left the fandom long before Jesse was retcon'd and Cole overwrote the lore. I don't care who the IRL person was, nor do I care to know anything about the person that they are, insofar as they reap the consequences their actions have sown. Justice will be served. But Jesse McCree will always be Overwatch's BAMF gunslinger outlaw, and will never be any sort of IRL reflection for me. Jesse McCree will always be Gabriel Reyes' right hand man in Blackwatch and not some easily forgotten "who is this guy? he did what now? IRL? fuck that guy he doesn't deserve any sort of spotlight".

My Jesse McCree will always be my Reaper's.

Period.

I won't name swap.

I'll be keeping Jesse McCree for myself and my writing, reclaiming and claiming the name that just fits the character. There is no other Jesse McCree than Overwatch's, Blackwatch's, Deadlock's Jesse BAMF McCree.

Here's the drabble: ]

Same shit, different year. Just numbers on someone's calendar, an agenda to weasel out and squash. It's not like he'd been ignorant of the date or the significance or the value of making appearances, it's just…

…

Distracted, determined, focused. Factors that play in measuring how fleeting time really does fly by. That and he'd wanted to just avoid people at all costs this year. Especially after the heat Blackwatch brought the whole organization. Moreso than usual at least.

A quick glance to his watch and a twinge in the pit of his gut that may or may not have been some sort of guilt has him sucking it up and making his way to where everything's cheery, merry, and bright. Maybe he'll be able to snag a bottle of something on the way back to his pile of bureaucracy and bullshit.

A habitual sweep of the festivities runs a headcount of the Usual Suspects milling about, noting who's missing but shrugs it off with mental nonchalance. He does his best to nod and grin that lopsided smarminess of his when greeted, passing through with handshakes and back slaps, quick hugs an pecks to the cheeks of those closest to him.

Artfully avoiding a certain someone while building up the New Years alibi.

Seconds tick by and there's no time left, nowhere to slink off to, he's caught in every sense of the word.

"Jesse…"

Their eyes meet and the off-tone vocalized Countdown from Ten is drowned out by that cheeky grin and glint in the younger man's eyes. His own reflects the same whorl and melange of threatening emotions, sentiments unspoken in their world of shadows. And there might just be a crinkle of crows feet upturned in something more than smirking amusement, even if his stern and tired features remain masked.

But nothing matters anymore when midnight strikes, taking whatever fight or flight his brain screams at him to engage in.

Yanked, an arm settles around the outlaw's waist, a rough hand comes up to card fingers through thick unkempt hair and scruff, and in his reciprocated kiss he tastes whiskey and ash, sour and sweet and smoky.

Same shit, different year.

But at least he's not alone now.

[eirist]

A Taste of Summer II

A TASTE OF SUMMER

One-shot #: 4

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: I did say I planned to finish the prompts from the ZoNami Week 2020 at zonamievents in Tumblr. This is Day 4: Lemons and Oranges. It took a long time since it’s been hectic in work these past months, I can only manage drabbles. I have a lot of work-in-progress stories waiting for me to finish them. Anyway, enjoy my better late than never one-shot.

Summary: The moment he stepped inside it, the fruits’ fragrances wafted towards him, surrounding him. Sweet. Citrusy.

The island was idyllic… quiet even. It feels like they were the only ones who are currently there.

Which turns out to be the case.

According to Robin—and the documents she unearthed from the enormous library of the island’s dazzling villa—it was once owned by a rich couple.

It was their own private paradise but they abandoned the place for a reason most could guess… they realized how susceptible they are—living on an island which was smack right into the path of sailing pirates.

What a waste. He wasn’t a fan of summer islands but Zoro had to admit, even he was awestruck with how divine the place is.

It was utterly exquisite and amazing.

The previous owners were fools to let such a gem go. It was the perfect getaway island. 

And all of his crewmates think so too. As they are spending another day docked there—exploring, relaxing and just taking everything in.

Heaven knows how the Straw Hats need a break from all that fighting.

Zoro left the others dilly-dallying in the villa’s patio overlooking the great view of the sea and the stone port with the Thousand Sunny docked beside it, bobbing idly above the blue water.

He strode towards a random direction despite protests from Usopp and the stupid cook that he will definitely get lost.

Damn them! He does not get lost. How many times do they have to go over this?!

Nami had done an ocular from the crow’s nest right after they had anchored. The island wasn’t that big, you can actually circle it in a day and a half.

How will he get lost in that? Idiots!

He grumpily trudged forward, following the graveled path that was leading away from the villa. He can hear Luffy's shouts of glee as Sanji announced a barbecue soiree some time later. 

Zoro shook his head. As much as the dumb cook hates to admit it, he'd been spoiling everyone rotten in this vacation of sorts... 

Not that he’s complaining. There is food. There is sake. He wasn't an ungrateful bastard after all.

The balmy breeze from the ocean swept across him, bringing in the salty smell of the sea. That, coupled with the warm temperature and the soothing rhythm of the waves crashing on the shore was enough to make him dozy.

Yawning widely, he decided to just look for a good place to nap instead of exploring the area like he initially meant to do. 

He'll do it later. Or tomorrow... as it seems like everyone was still willing to stay for one more day. 

The path he was following veered towards the left. He hesitated for a moment, his body unconsciously steering towards the opposite direction—one without a paved trail and bordered with thick foliage no one can pass through. 

He grunted and contemplated whether or not he would cut and make his own way... but he didn't want anyone nagging him about how not to destroy everything in front you.

Especially one loud-mouthed, orange-haired navigator. 

He doubts if he'd be able to take on her yapping from the way he was reacting to her as of late.

Running a hand through his hair exasperatedly, he sighed and did a double take. He didn’t realize that he was now near the villa’s wide back patio.

There were stone steps leading down to a garden below filled with trees and plants blooming with different summer fruits and flowers. A paved walkway snaked across the expanse of the area leading to a tunnel-shaped trellis with lemon and orange trees growing on them, providing shade to anyone who would dare walk into it. The branches were intertwined above, the fruits hanging like dozens of prized crystals on a chandelier—their alternating colors of orange and yellow among the green leaves were pleasing to look at.

Zoro grinned and made his way towards it. Would you look at that? He found a perfect place to nap.

The moment he stepped inside it, the fruits’ fragrances wafted towards him, surrounding him. 

Sweet. Citrusy.

Just like Nami.

He made a tch-ing sound. He was thinking about her. Again. 

Seems like he's been doing it a lot recently. A lot.

He couldn't understand it at first. It was all so foreign to him.

It had taken Zoro sometime before he figured out what was really happening. And it took an even longer period before he finally acknowledged it. 

When they finally faced each other after their two years separation... everything just came crashing down on him. 

She had greeted him with the warmest smile on her face as they ran into each other—both intending to take a break from the celebration party held at Fish-Man Island.  

In that moment... he just got lost in her. 

And Zoro didn't know if it was the same with her. Or if that is even possible with her. 

But he can clearly see now that it is. 

And that threw him off because he was honestly not expecting it. 

He scratched the back of his head in frustration. All this thinking is really making his head ache. Especially after the recent events where they both seem to find themselves in that specific moment before a kiss happens. 

Should it? 

Fate seems to be pointing to the fact that it should, given how the two of them always end up in the same situation every time they are near each other. 

He wasn't a firm believer of signs and such, but given the circumstances… it seems like it was really inevitable. 

And it's not like he didn't want to kiss her. He absolutely wants to. Even more now after the whole water gun spectacle and how their lips were so close… almost grazing each other’s right after they had resurfaced from the ocean with their eyes locked on each other’s.

They were interrupted by the idiot cook yelling threats and throwing one of the water guns at his head. 

Nami had moved away from him almost immediately. And the look she gave him had his curiosity piqued. 

It was the same one he saw on her face while they were hiding behind the makeshift shelter in the midst of the water gun battle—a cross between understanding and acceptance.

The slight thud of a fruit dropping near him broke his thoughts. He stared at the orange globe as it rolled a few centimeters away, surprised that it didn't explode from the height of the fall. 

He picked it up, toying with it for a moment, enjoying the firmness of it in his hand. He ran his thumb across its smooth surface. His lips quirked up. He always secretly enjoyed the fact that her hair was the same shade as this orange and her beloved mikans. 

Damn it to hell he's turning to that aho cook now.

He casually threw the fruit up in the air and caught it. He decided to throw those thoughts aside as well for now and enjoy this little snack before settling down for a nap. 

He proceeded to peel it and then did a double take again. 

He didn't notice it before, but the citrus tunnel was leading to another area. 

Zoro moved towards the end of it to check. His eyebrows rose and he marveled at the wide orchard of lemon and orange trees before him. It was smartly hidden from the view that you cannot see it from the villa, giving it a kind of a secret place ambiance.

A smile appeared on his face again as he took in the perfectly lined trees before him. There was an odd feeling of satisfaction at their alignment, at the interchanging colors of their fruits, their stark contrast against the swaying green leaves.

"Zoro?"

He dropped the orange he was holding.  

Damn he should have known the chances of running into her are high.

Really, really high.

He turned towards the direction of her voice. Nami was standing between the rows of orange and lemon trees, with one hand on her hips as she regarded him. 

“Are you my back-up?”

Zoro paused for a moment and cocked an eyebrow at her when he couldn't figure out what she meant by that. “Your what?”

Nami blew at her bangs in exaggerated exasperation. “I mean, are you here to help me?” She asked again, nudging one basket filled with fruits with her feet.

Zoro's eye hovered at the containers near her legs.

She's fruit-picking? Voluntarily??? 

But Nami had them for that. She can easily order every—and any—one of them to do it for her. 

Especially him or that stupid love cook.

Pigs must be flying somewhere on this island.

"What is that?" He definitely and dumbly had to ask that.

"Uh fruits?" Nami raised an eyebrow at him. "Specifically lemons and oranges... shall I introduce you to them? Feels like you still haven't made acquaintances of each other."

"Very funny witch," he growled. "And no I'm not your back-up."

A frown marred her features. "Then why are you here? Usopp didn't send you? I specifically ask him to send someone to help me!"

Zoro gave her an unamused look. "Like he can order me around."

"Hmm true but…" She tapped a finger to her cheek, pondering. Then she waved her hand dismissively. "Well since you are here, I guess I'll have to make use of you somehow."

"No thanks. I need to nap now."

She gaped at him. "Seriously Zoro? Are you a kid? How many naps do you need per day?!"

He just shrugged. Sure, they may be on the verge of acting on the attraction that they had for each other and kiss somehow in the near future...

But damn if he will obey her just like that. 

He wasn't ero-cook after all. 

"Tell you what, I'll just go and tell your stupid cook to help you out."

"But you’re already here..." Nami pointed out, her tone turning a bit whiny. "Besides you will just get lost and never make it to Sanji-kun or back to me!"

"Oi!"

“Just help me out Zoro.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t carry them by myself!”

“Just drag them or something. I’m not your pack-mule.”

“What’s the use of those stupid arms you tone every day? For display only?!” Nami hissed at him.

Zoro threw her a smirk, fighting the urge to flex just to irritate her more. “Yes.”

“Zoro!”

"It's your damn fault for trying to do this by yourself," the green-haired man grunted. Honestly, why didn't she ask him or anyone else in their crew to accompany her?

But him… especially. 

Damn that dumbass cook is contagious!

Maybe she needed to be alone with her thoughts as well just like you. A tiny, eety, beety voice that sounded a lot like Chopper reminded him. 

Nami stared at him surprised. "You mean, I should've asked you to come with me earlier?"

That snapped him into attention as his ears turned red. "That's not what I meant!"

"But you said I should've asked you," she repeated.

“I didn’t say anything like that!”

The navigator pouted. “Well I’m pretty sure you were insinuating that.”

“Temee…”

"Anyway, you were napping. Thought it'd be better not to wake you up."

There was never a time in their lives that she was this considerate of him. Regardless of how deep he was sleeping, Nami will most definitely wake him up just to order him to do something. 

Her mischievous smile had his guard up. 

Cheeky witch!

“I’m heading back,” he grumbled. “I’ll go tell your idiot prince that you need help.”

“Zoro!”

He ignored her screech and turned away from her.

The less time he spends with her... the better. It lowers the chance of them finally kissing until it blows over and they completely forgot it even have a chance to occur.

Because honestly, he doesn't know what to do after it. Or what will happen after it. 

That is something he still doesn't know the answer as of yet. 

“Why you…” Nami seethed as he started walking away. He was really grating every single nerve in her body with his no-nonsense attitude, even after everything that happened these past weeks.  

She grabbed a lemon from the basket and threw it at him. Hard. Channeling all the bottled up frustrations in her on that action.

"Take that you idiot!”

It hit him on the back, putting a stop to his stride.

Nami seized another fruit and threw it again… this time hitting the stupid, lazy man on his head.

Zoro growled lowly when he saw the yellow fruits bounced down the ground after hitting him.

“Nami!” He shouted, pivoting sharply towards her…

…and promptly got hit on the side of his face, this time with an overripe orange.

The fruit splattered on contact, its juices dripping down his face and neck.

His jaw clenched as his eyes settled on a cheekily smiling Nami who had another fruit in her hand, throwing it up on the air and catching it.

And he knows, damn he knows this is her payback for ignoring her request and for his stunt a few days ago…

…and for hesitating to kiss her and acknowledging what was between them... all rolled into one.

She moved swiftly and threw the orange in her hand again.

This time he effortlessly caught it, before a sneer appeared on his face.

He crushed the fruit in his grip and threw it back at her.

Nami yelped as she tried to get away in time, but the fruit remains still caught her and splattered on her chest and face. In a split second, he had another fruit in his grasp, crushing and throwing it at her again.

She squealed when she saw him broke into a run, heading towards her looking like he was going to tackle her down the ground.

She immediately turned, but not before throwing two random fruits at him and ran, dodging the trees that lined the orchard as fast as her feet will take her. She randomly changed directions, running towards the left then switching to the right…

Knowing Zoro’s ability to get lost in a straight line, she’d be able to throw him off the chase.

Her lungs were burning, her breaths coming out in gasps. Her hair whipped wildly behind her as the ribbon she had tied on loosened and was blown away by the wind.

She should feel threatened, afraid somehow. She doesn’t know what Zoro has in store for her once he caught her.

But she was laughing.

She circled a random tree, trying to catch her breath. Carefully she peered back at the direction where she came from. The swordsman was nowhere to be seen.

It was all so crazy. Crazy yet fun. She ran a hand through her now tousled locks. The ribbon she had on earlier must’ve fallen away when she dashed along the orchard.

Oh she will make him pay for this of course. This is his fault anyway. He was the one who started chasing her.

The smell of the fruits filled her nose. She pouted a bit at the stickiness of the juices clinging in her skin and sundress. Yet, the scents brought comfort to her and she let herself relax for a moment. Zoro was probably on the other side of the orchard, given how he always ends up on the opposite of where he’s supposed to go.

Trust him to really get lost in a straight line.

It was silent now, except for her heavy breaths and the sound of the sea. The wind started to pick up from the ocean, blowing lightly along the expanse of the citrus orchard. Citrusy scent filled the air, reminding her of that it is summer.

The breeze tousled her long, orange curls and she closed her eyes as it blew stronger.

Almost immediately it stopped. At the same time a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sun and the wind as well.

“Found ya.”

Her eyes flew open in surprise. Zoro was now in front of her, grinning roguishly. She honestly thought she lost him in the maze of orange and lemon trees with all the twist and turns that she made.

On instinct, she automatically moved to ran away again. But Zoro caged her in his arms preventing her escape.

“Oh no you don’t.”

She squealed in protest when his hands—still sticky from the fruits—held her by the arms.

Nami tilted her head and laughed. There were remnants of the lemons and oranges she threw at him earlier sticking on his face and shirt.

Still chortling, she reached out to wipe them off his face. He did the same for her, plucking some bits and pieces from her hair.

They were standing so close to each other now—a sticky mess with their breaths heaving and intermingling with each other’s.

Her hands found themselves resting flat on his chest while his had slid down to both of her elbows.

They were looking at each other, painfully aware that they are in that instant before a kiss again, waiting on who is brave enough to make the first move.

It was Nami who broke the moment first.

“Ok. Ok. I give up!” She snickered and grinned at the sheer childishness of what they had just done.

They were supposedly ruthless pirates, weren’t they?

“I’m charging you for all these Zoro.”

Zoro chuckled and released her. “How about I lug your baskets back as you want then we’ll just call it quits.”

“No.”

“Damn woman!”

“Oh no, no,” Nami shook her head as she forced herself to she step away from him. “You ruined a sundress, cost me a hair ribbon and I’m not even touching the fact that you threw fruits at me and chased me all throughout this orchard.”

“Oi! You were the one who did the throwing first!” The green-haired man retorted.

“Dame.” She poked a finger to his chest.

“Fine!” He said grouchily. But to her astonishment, he smiled at her. “Let’s head back.”

Nami nodded. “Yeah. I need a bath. I’ve been here for hours. Plus I feel sticky. No thanks to you.”

Zoro just threw her a smirk.

She followed him along the rows of citrus trees. It seems like now is still not the right time for them. There was still that hesitation… an uncertainty that lingers on the air between them, mostly from Zoro’s part.

And Nami had decided that she wouldn’t make the first move. She would wait for him. Because when he does… that means he is finally ready to deal with what’s between them and everything that comes with it.

For now she’ll just bask in these little, special moments with him.

The wind blew around them again, the citrus’ scents drifting up in the air once more. She was quite amazed that he was able to make his way back to where they had left the baskets of lemons and oranges.

Zoro was about to grab one, then he stopped.

Nami stared at him with a curious gaze. “Is there a problem?”

He looked back at her. With a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he shook his head. He had this expression on his face that clearly indicates he just realized something.

Taking a step closer to her, he watched her warm brown eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and excitement. 

"Zoro?"

The swords will dull if you do the opposite of what you really feel. 

Of course. He really is an idiot.

He bent down, finally claiming her lips with his. His arms went around her to pull her close so he could savor the feeling, the moment, the reality that he finally came to terms with what he really needed to do and what he wanted to do. 

She sighed softly and he felt the smile tugged at the corners of her lips as her own arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her and deepening their kiss. 

The essences of the fruits had found their way to her lips at their antics earlier. He savored the taste on her—the sweetness of the oranges, the tanginess of the lemons...

It was summer on her lips. 

And he was now addicted to it. 

[nightfaith]

munday face drop below the cut bc why not

[nightfaith]

discord drop under the cut! if we're mutuals feel free to add me! 💙

just let me know who you are!

wadewilsoniii

[nightfaith]

gonna drop some kurt sleep headcanons below the cut because they're burning a hole in my mind

alone in his bed at the mansion - when kurt sleeps alone in his bed at the mansion, he's a starfish. if someone came in to wake him they'd find him sprawled out, limbs akimbo, drooling, tail dangling half off the bed. he's completely relaxed and it shows. though on nights when he falls asleep worried, he can sometimes be found in a very awkward position, his legs and butt in the air, shoulders pressed to the mattress, and tail coiled around the wooden bar at the top of his bed frame - a position he took up because stretching can often help relax him to sleep while he's stressed. he'll wake up sore if he slept like this. this man stims and nothing will convince me otherwise.

alone in an unfamiliar place - when sleeping somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere he isn't comfortable and perhaps even knows he may not be fully safe, kurt sleeps on his side. it's not quite a fetal position, but more similar to a question mark, with his arms folded against his chest as if he's hugging himself and his tail wrapped around one leg. this is a sleeping position he considers defensive, and one he adopted when he was in the circus and had been transitioned to being kept in a cage. it prevented any vulnerable spots from being poked, and his tail from being grabbed and yanked. it's not only defensive, but self-soothing.

next to a friend in an unfamiliar place - kurt gravitates toward the nearest warm body while he's sleeping. unconsciously, he's seeking security and companionship as a way to cope. there's safety and comfort in numbers. also more warmth, especially if it's in a colder climate. he's more timid about this because he wants to respect boundaries, but he's a touchy guy. he gets comfort from touch, comforts other with touch. it's natural for him, but he'll take a no if he gets shoved away.

with a romantic partner - octopus. not even kidding, he'll wrap himself around his partner in any way possible, and it'll be completely catered to what position that partner is sleeping in. they're a back sleeper? he's splayed half on top of them tail wrapped around whatever part of their body he can squeeze it under and reach. side sleeper with a preference for being the little spoon? he's plastered to their back, legs tangled, both arms wrapped in a big warm embrace around them in whatever position is most comfortable, and the tail is definitely going to be wrapped around a leg. side sleeper with a preference for big spoon? he might be pouty about it initially, he likes being the big spoon himself, but this is the one way to escape a full-on kurt cling. he'll still press his back as close to his partner's body as possible, hold their hand if he can get away with it, and wrap his tail around them in whatever way he can. escaping the bed when he's still sleeping is a battle of wills.

[nightfaith]

i have been so slow. hopefully this evening i will be getting everything finished! i needed a little meds adjustment and now my brain works again. gonna be all over for you folks with this fuzzy blue elf.

[nightfaith]

if i am at times a bit too friendly i apologize. i like being nice to people, helping out, and being silly. i also am very easily excited because i haven't spent time in the rpc (especially on tumblr) for a while. i got a little bit of that dog (elf) in me.

on another note i'll be replying to things later this evening. feel free to send memes if you like. 💙

[nightfaith]

at the moment i don't have much muse for kurt unfortunately. i will be back here at some point but for now i can be found at @ninehclls!

[nightfaith]

x-men evolution has given me proof that even with friends kurt is a cuddle menace. kurt why is scott covered in your fur????? friendship is magic and life has been stressful lately. clearly the only cure for this is cuddling your friend half to death in the night. also the fact that kurt's up second and significantly more visibly tired. also confirms that he's a menace about getting up in the first place. you know scott had to wrestle free and that's half the reason for the fur.