#kuni in every possible au

[magicalink]

Bunny Boy Kuni

Bunnyboy Kuni who has those adorable teeth, longer than humans an other hybrids, those teeth that he tries to hide all the time. He is so self-conscious about them! But you love them, you always do your best to make him laugh so you can see them. And he only shows his true teethy smile in front of you, because you make him feel loved and safe 💕

Bunnyboy Kuni who has long, fluffy ears that cascade down his pretty head. You love caressing them and telling him just how adorable he is. He shushes you, how dare you call him an adorable bunny?? Just because he is a bunny hybrid doesn't mean he isn't a big and strong man! He'll prove it to you, he'll pick you up and carry you around all day! You love his soft and pretty ears. And he won't ever admit it, but he loves when you tug them and grip them for dear support when you are riding him. You're the only one allowed to see and touch them, most time they remain hidden by his huge hat.

Bunnyboy Kuni who has the cutest, fluffiest, spongiest bunnytail in the world. It looks like a cotton pompom. He uses clothes that hide it all the time but when he's at home with you in loose and comfy clothes you rejoice in onserving it. He huffs and pouts when you point it out but he loves when you touch it and pull it gently and you tell him he's the cutest creature in the world. He becomes all flushed and grumpy and tells you that how dare you talk about him like he was a cute little pet! He'll show you what he's made of! He won't admit it, but he feels cute and loved when you insist on telling him how adorable and beautiful he is even when he's pounding into you with unbridled passion.

Wtf is this? I have no idea. Some feverish delusion I had while ill in bed after thinking how my bf's theeth look a bit long like those of a bunny 🧍‍♂️ I procceed to go back to waiting for my medical check ups results💨

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - modern!au, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, nonconsensual touching, and stalking. written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

“I’ve been thinking about us, again.”

He was barely trying to whisper, his voice loud enough to earn several pointed looks from the people around you. You’d tried to put yourself at a distance from the rest of the class, to sit in a deserted corner of the near-empty lecture hall, but he wouldn’t have cared if you were in the first row. That was something you’d had to learn quickly about him – Kunikuzushi was shameless at the best of times, actively vitriolic at the worst. Your public humiliation wasn’t just a pleasant side-effect of his company, but an active goal he was striving towards during every minute you spent together.

“You don’t have to look so worried – if I was going to break up with you, you’d know.” You kept your eyes trained on the lecturer, your expression schooled to practiced disinterest, but his voice lulled like you’d broken into tears. You felt him shift that much closer to you – his thigh pressing into yours. “I just don’t think we spend enough time together. I know, I know, we’re both busy, but still. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

You were. Just last week, you’d spent two hours locked in your bedroom closet – lights off and knees pulled into your chest – because Kuni had somehow gotten your address and decided it would be a good use of his time to loiter on your doorstep and refuse to leave until you came out. You planned your day-to-day schedule meticulously to make sure it would never bleed into his, went out of your way not to have to go where you knew he would be, but there was only so much you could do to get away from someone willing to blow off his classes and skip work just to spend the better part of a day sending you candid pictures from one of his countless burner phones. You could only be thankful he was too caught up in his own delusions to ever let his obsession turn violent. Lashing out at you for never acknowledging whatever relationship he thought you were in would be akin to admitting you didn’t have a relationship at all, he would never do that.

He took up your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You tried, weakly, to pull away from him, but he only let out a breathy chuckle, his head soon resting on your shoulder. Compared to how he’d acted when you first met – standoffish, bristly, constantly on the verge of losing his temper – he was practically a touch-starved puppy, happy so long as he could sit in your lap and bask in your attention, positive or negative.

If only you’d ever wanted a pet.

“I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say it.” Another laugh, a playful squeeze to your hand. “I think we should move in together.”

You snapped in his direction, your knees jolting against the bottom of your desk and earning a few pointed glares. After mouthing a sheepish apology, you dug your nails into the back of his hand, keeping your voice as low as possible. “Kuni, I— I don’t think that’s—”

“Don’t think it’s practical?” Predictably, he cut you off. “I knew you’d say that. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be able to find the nerve to leave your apartment.” You felt his smile against the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck as he nuzzled against you. “I’ve already handled it. By the time that moron—“ He rolled his eyes towards your professor. “—shuts up, everything should be taken care of.”

You felt something heavy and sharp drop into the pit of your stomach. “But, you don’t have a key—”

“I made myself a key a couple weeks ago – got tired of waiting for you to offer. I love you, babe, but you’re too timid for your own good.” His grin, pressed the curve of your throat. “You can thank me later on, after I’ve shown you our new place.”

His hand fell to your thigh, just a touch too high not to trigger some buried, primal instinct inside of you. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate – bolting upward and tearing yourself away from him. Your chair scaped against the tile floor, your palms slamming against the desk, and in an instant, every pair of eyes in the lecture hall were on you. The professor scowled in your direction, his ire tangible. “Do you have something to say, (L/n)?”

You opened your mouth, but your mouth was dry, your throat suddenly swollen shut. Your gaze fell back to Kuni – his smile still wide and his eyes still so, so dark.

Wordlessly, you shook your head and collapsed back into your seat. As the lecture picked back up and all concentration was returned to the front of the rom, Kuni latched onto you once again, his hold twice as strong and twice as suffocating as it had been.

It was almost a comfort to know that, this time, there wasn’t anything you could do to get away from him.

[justsomeoneunordinary]

There are a bajillion Marriage Hunt AUs and not a single one for HashiMito. I don't even like the trope because bride kidnapping was a real thing where men captured the women they wanted to marry and then raped them - and to me, personally, that's reason enough not to enjoy a romanticized version of it. But see, I'm a spiteful bitch and the fact that there are so many MadaTobi and TobiIzu Marriage AU fics but not a single HashiMito one makes me want to have one now.

So...

This is Hashirama's fourth time participating as a hunter in a marriage hunt. The last three times, he claimed he hadn't been able to capture anyone, which is a bald-faced lie considering he's one of the strongest shinobi in all of Hi no Kuni if not even all elemental nations, and the elders know it. But it's not like they can do anything about it except force him strongly suggest to participate in another one.

This time, however, he is considering taking the hunt seriously for once. One of the possible brides is a Nara - the second child of the current clan head. Albeit unfortunately a man, thus not possible to grant Hashirama heirs, which the elders will have objections about (even though they only care about the Mokuton, which they know only appears in every few generations, so the chances that a child of his would inherit the Mokuton are practically zero), he has heard of the intellect that runs through Nara clan head's family.

The first child would've been more fitting, for one she's a woman, and for another she's rumored to be the smartest Nara as of yet, but as the direct heir, she naturally can't marry out. So Hashirama will have to do with the younger brother instead. He isn't sure if he wants to have sex with a man, but Hashirama has never been fond of tradition anyway so he may as well just ignore this one, too. What he needs, is someone strategic to help him make peace with the Uchiha, and since Tobirama is unwilling to hear him out, he may as well capture himself a personal strategist via a marriage contract.

(And here Tobirama always claimed Hashirama can't think ahead. Ha, take this!)

Sure, if it was up to Hashirama, he'd prefer his future wife someone to be he has already gotten to know and has had time to court and develop feelings for but since he's clan head, he can't have everything he wants, so this is his next best option.

When the hunt starts, however, Hashirama doesn't immediately chase after the Nara whose name he unfortunately already forgot. He keeps an eye on him, to see what kind of traps he comes up with against his pursuers, and if Hashirama is impressed enough, he will try to strike a conversation with him and see, how he feels about the notion of peace. And only then will he decide if he will capture the man into marriage or not.

For now, he just runs nonsensically into the forest, which is all the more surprising when golden chains wind around him and capture him in a hard grip that makes him stumble and almost fall to the ground.

"Wha-?"

"Senju Hashirama," he hears Uzumaki Mito's voice at the other side of the chains, standing proudly a few branches behind him, her chin held high and her expression smug, "I, Uzumaki Mito, declare my intention to hunt you for marriage. Do you accept?"

Her tone is steady and imperious but not unkind. Hashirama blinks in confusion.

"But I am registered as a hunter and not bride-to-be?" he helpfully points out.

"Not anymore," Mito says and gestures to his wrist, retracting her chains from his person, now that she has his full attention. Where a blue bracelet should be that identifies him as a hunter is now a red one instead. A bride's bracelet.

Hashirama gapes. "How--?"

He had noticed Mito's hard stare before the hunt had begun. And when he had looked over to see who kept staring holes into him, Mito hadn't even had the decency to look away, had just looked at him with an intense gaze, not paying attention to the rules of the hunt that were being read aloud. Hashirama had wondered if there had been something on his face and prayed it wasn't leftover from his breakfast.

Now he wonders how she managed to exchange his bracelet without anyone noticing, including him, all the while she had been lined up quite a few paces away from him with two other hunters between them.

"I can't marry out, I am clan head," he then mentions carefully, although Mito knows already as much. They have, after all, met a handful of times already. But it bears mentioning, since Mito seems to have forgotten how a marriage hunt works.

"I am aware. And I am, of course, willing to marry into my wife's clan instead. My wife's duty takes precedence over the nature of our marriage."

Huh. Hashirama has met Mito before, so he knows she's a smart woman - Ashina's head strategist even. She's witty and incredibly skilled at the arts of sealing. She's also an exceptionally beautiful woman, which is not important in this context, but Hashirama can't help but notice anyway. And right now, something akin to fear and hope shimmers in those coal-dark eyes, in contrast to the confident pose she's holding.

So, stupidly, Hashirama doesn't think twice when he answers, "I accept."

The brilliant smile Mito gifts him then is all the confirmation he needs that this was the right decision. He may not have had the time to properly court Mito and get to know her better, but he can tell without a doubt, this will be more than worth it.

Without further ado, Hashirama runs.

[kg-houseki-no-kuni-au]

KG houseki no kuni AU🍎💎

Creator and painter: @o-cute-blood-o (1 will continue to update)

(This AU belongs to me for now, but I don't rule out the possibility that Iwill invite a KG fan to create with me one day in the future)

Open to fan art, I welcome it very much

(I'm not sure if there will be KG fans willing to make fan art😥)

If you are willing to draw fan art, please tag this account or

o-cute-blood-o. You can also add the tag "KG houseki no kuni AU"

In this AU, I will draw every child in KG as a jewel people. I will draw somedaily life of children as jewel people (warm daily life will account for themajority)

Interaction with characters in KG Land of the Lustrous AU is allowed✔️

All children appearing in KG appear as jewel people, and jewel people haveno gender. If the children who appear as a couple in the KG plot (such asMadison х Ozzy) in this AU, please treat these ships as the best and mosttrusted partners (if you like romance, I don't have much opinion)

About whether your KG OC can join the Jewel People:

(This question may seem a bit nosy, but if someone wants to, haha XD)

I welcome you to create such works because I also want to see it

The requirements are as follows:

You can keep your KG OC's hairstyle and accessories

Find a gem of your KG OC's representative color (it can also be hair color)

Describe the hardness of the gem

Wear the Jewel People's clothing and carry the Jewel People's weapons

Please at least make your KG OC look like a Jewel People

(You can add the "KG houseki no kuni AU" tag but also add the"kindergarten oс" tag)

This is all I can think of for now, I will add more later!! Bye o(≧v≦)oHappy New Year

‼️I used machine translation, I don't know much Eng😥‼️

-cutod (@o-cute-blood-o )

[meriyanww]

— Losing focus.

Kuni— or Scaramouche, is an assassin. Or a spy. Maybe a hitman? Who knows. He just recieves orders and carry them out. After only a day's rest from his last mission, he has to do another one. It didn't involve much physical labor so his superiors deemed it easy for him. However, Scaramouche would've preferred killing a whole organization, instead of... this. His eyes blinked at the bright lights and sparkling decorations of the banquet. It felt unreal. magical. charming. disgusting.

A kzscr royal au from my ao3 ★

— ✦✧

Kuni— or Scaramouche, is an assassin. Or a spy. Maybe a hitman? Who knows. He just recieves orders and carry them out. At the moment, I guess the title of a spy is more fitting for him. After only a day's rest from his last mission, he has to do another one. He didn't need to kill anyone this time. Just observe and get the information needed.

However, he hadn't expected to be wearing... such clothing. To gather as much information as possible, he was ordered to dress as a woman. Much to his detest, he was wearing a navy blue ball gown with sparkles at the top of his corset and off shoulder sleeves to imitate stars, accompanied by black heels (which took him a while to get used to), gloves, and a few simple jewelry. With only a small amount of makeup, he (un)surprisingly looked the part of a noble woman. Maybe it was because he had fair skin, or that he used to have long hair— which could have been useful for this mission. Unfortunately for his superiors, he had already cut it while having an identity crisis when he was younger. With a styled, long haired wig that matched his hair color, none of his assistants could recognize him. If it wasn't for his signature cold gaze and words of authority, maybe he had been flirted with by his very own attendants that feared him. It was both amazing and scary for Scara to fit the role and disguise perfectly.

Maybe his disguise was a little too good...

All eyes were on him when he entered the ballroom, his gown and astonishing looks catching every person's attention. His eyes blinked at the bright lights and sparkling decorations. It was fancy— It was the Royal family's ball, after all. He hated events like this. Bright, full of gossip, and bustling with people. But it was also a treasure trove for information.

It felt unreal. Magical. Charming. Disgusting.

When he was younger, he wished to be a part of things like these. Talking with other nobles, dancing at the center of the ballroom, relishing in the sounds of music and chatter. It was like a fairy tale. He was obsessed with fairy tales when he was young. But a single glance of the man he had become now would tell anyone that that child's dreams and imagination is long gone. Now standing, leaning against a pillar by himself, is a changed young man, eyes devoid of any innocence, with sullied hands and a cold, broken heart. Having been betrayed by both his family and friends, it was almost natural for him to end up in such an organization like the Fatui.

He was content with the life he has now. Well, not really. He just thinks that at least in the Fatui, he could be useful. There, he had a purpose. And so there, he will stay and fulfill that purpose. Just like he longed to do for his family, before he was abandoned and deemed useless. This time, he wants to succeed. He wants to prove to himself, everyone— especially his family that he was good at something. That he could've been a good knight, a good leader, a good heir. That he wasn't soft-hearted and sensitive— that he could kill.

Scaramouche closes his eyes and frowns, not bothering to listen to the flowery words being thrown at him by several men attempting to court him or at least strike a conversation. He sighs and opens back his eyes when he hears the clinking of a glass, his and others' heads turning up towards the balcony where a member of the Royal family stood. He listened to the royalty's speech, eyes straying to the Princess who was making her way to a group of noble ladies. It was time to make his move.

He walks elegantly through the hall, putting down his drink on a tray a servant was holding. He makes his entrance, grasping the fabric of his gown, crossing his feet and lowering his body. He bows before them, "Greetings, ladies." The Princess hums in interest, the other women happy by his greeting. "I am Eiko, a noble from Inazuma."

Scaramouche partakes in the ladies' conversation, telling them about his fake backstory and identity, making sure to smile once in a while. He could hear some of them whispering, their soft words being compliments, and a few other opinions. Once he gathered enough trust and information from the nobles, he excuses himself. They all insist on him to stay, but the Princess unknowingly helps him by letting him go. He enters the restroom, relaxing for a while by himself. He couldn't get pure silence, but the sounds from the ball being muffled in the bathroom stall was enough for now.

Once out of the restroom, he hears a different kind of music play. Ah, he looks around, the dancing must've started. In the spotlight was the Princess with her fiancé, performing the first dance. He leans against a pillar once more, grabbing another drink from a servant's tray as he watches. Younger him would be thrilled right now, eyes glued to two dancing beauties. However, the sight to him now felt rather... unpleasant. It was once his dream to experience such a thing, but now just imagining being in those two's shoes, imagining being the center of attention— it's sickening. Overwhelming.

The music pauses, and they stop. Everyone applauds before gathering at the center for their turn to dance. Other women around him were getting offered a dance, an extended hand for them to take. Or... for him to take. He lifts his head and scoffs, not giving the man a chance to even speak his request. "No." He opens his fan to cover half of his face, bringing his other arm to meet his elbow. He looks at the man— ruby eyes, silver hair with a lone streak at the side, coated by a familiar shade of red.

He blinks once. twice. maybe a few more times. The man keeps his hand extended to him, his smile unyielding. He sighs, "I said no." He glances to the side, eyes meeting one of the ladies' he talked to earlier. She seemed surprised and displeased by the sight before her. Scara glances back to the man in front of him. He smirks, putting his drink down, then snapping his fan shut to the palm of his other hand. "Fine."

He takes the young man's hand, a surprised look on their face. The man soon smiles again, leading Scara to join the other nobles at the center. He could see the lady's enraged expression. It seems Scara's assumption was correct. That lady had her eyes on the man whose hand he was holding now. He only took the man's hand to confirm his theory and get a bit more information.

His eyes snap back to the man beside him once he speaks. "I believe this is your first time attending the Royal family's annual ball. Is it not?"

"Correct." He follows the man to the very center. Scara didn't like the position the man chose, but he didn't want anyone else hearing him complain. He was also a bit skeptical of the man. He felt a bit familiar. Was he popular? If he was, how could Scara forget? The man speaks again, "Then have you attended any other ball?" Scara turns to face him, lifting his arms and putting a hand to his shoulder. "Yes." A lie. "The shogun rarely holds balls, so I attended in my family's stead and to interact with others. However, I don't dance." Scara has never danced before, so adding the last bit could be useful for him when the man finds his skills in this area lacking. The man places a hand on his waist and chuckles. Scara swears that this man's smile was shining. Too bright for his taste. "Then it's a pleasure to be your first dance."

The music starts and the people dance in unison. Scara focused on the dance, careful not to make any mistakes and embarrass himself. It would be humiliating, given that he had already attracted a lot of attention, and that they were dancing in the very middle of the crowd. The man notices his tension. "Relax." He assures Scara, "You'll be fine. Just follow my lead." Scara didn't expect the man's kind words, but nodded in response anyways. He tried his best not to let any more of his nervousness show. It would be troublesome for him to get found out just like that. But maybe this man's intuition was too good. He had noticed Scara's uneasiness and opted to distract him by his words instead. Just to make him feel a little better.

"I believe we haven't introduced ourselves yet. May I have the honor of knowing your name?" His words caught Scara's attention, like it was supposed to. "Eiko is my name." He says flatly, only distracted for a brief moment. He becomes alert again right after. It was a bit troublesome for the other man, but it happened to be a good thing after all. The jealous lady earlier was moving closer to them, twirling around with her partner. Scara purposefully pushed the man back a bit to try and dodge the lady, since he knew she would bump into him with their current position. However, there wasn't much space for Scara to move him and the man completely out of the lady's way without bumping into another. So, the two inevitably pass by each other a little too close. It would've been fine if it weren't for the lady pushing Scara lightly with her foot, making him stumble for a moment. The man catches him, quickly glancing over the woman behind Scara who was smiling mischievously. The woman meets the man's gaze, and she immediately becomes embarrassed. She had been caught, and so she turned her head away in shame and humiliation.

"I'm sorry," the man blurts out with a frown. "She has been troubling me for quite some time now. Are you okay?" Scara swallows a curse and instead nods his head. "I'm fine." He quickly got back on his feet and continued to dance, making sure he was following his partner's pace just fine. The man was amazed by how quickly Scara got back on track and smiled. "That's good."

Scara, however, kept his eyes open and alert— especially to that woman. The man notices and is quick to reassure him. "Don't worry, she won't be able to reach us anymore in just a moment." He smiles and Scara is confused. "Though, please don't hesitate to tell me is she troubles you again after the dance."

Scara almost rolls his eyes at his words. He's not quite used to receiving kind words, and didn't take them kindly either. On the other hand, his question on what the man's words meant would soon be answered, but left him even more confused. The surrounding people who danced around them started to distance themselves, leaving the two in the center. As Scara was just about to feel uneasy about setup, overthinking the choreography and if he had overlooked a step his instructor taught him last minute, he realized that he was in the spotlight. Shit.

This was bad. Very bad. Bad for his current mission and identity, and bad for his own well-being too. He didn't like being put on spot. The unwanted attention and judging eyes both overwhelmed and irritated him. His question from earlier was now answered. The reason why the man looked familiar— that taunting red. He was from the Kaedehara clan, a once noble and powerful clan in Inazuma that served the Royal family. It was hard to believe that he was a Kaedehara, given that the clan has been quiet for years now due to an incident caused by his own family— the same family that abandoned him. However, what confirmed him was the memory Scara had just remembered. When dancing, a nobleman that served the Royal family would dance at the very center for all the other people to recognize. It would've been the Kamisato clan or Ragnvindr clan heir in his position right now if the man he was currently dancing with wasn't a Kaedehara. He suddenly recalled the royalty's speech earlier— they mentioned something about new and old friends. Maybe the Kaedehara clan was making their entrance at this ball?

"Eiko." The man calls him. Naturally, he wouldn’t miss a chance to obtain more information and formulate his own theories. However, Scaramouche grew anxious. Distracted by his own thoughts.  His heart was beating fast, and he was slowly losing focus. He didn't even realize he was grabbing Kaedehara's hand tightly if it weren't for him speaking up and snapping him out of it. "Eiko," He calls out to him again. "Relax." Scara blinks once. twice. a few more times. He takes a deep breath, moving his gaze away from the noble's face. "Sorry." He whispers, unsure if the man even heard him. He did. He squeezes Scara's hand back, "Don't be. I should be the one apologizing for putting you in such a position. I thought you knew." A bit shamefully, Scara shakes his head. He didn't know. His eyes moved rapidly, looking at the crowd around them who were both dancing and watching, unnerved.

Kaedehara pulls Scara closer, catching his attention. "Please," he whispers to his ear, "Focus on me."

He pulls away, twirling him around. Scara looks at the noble with slightly widened eyes, as if enchanted by his words. His voice was soft, kind, yet had a slight hint of authority within it. He could tell that it was an order, disguised as comforting words. At least that's what he thinks it is. Scara doesn't why he obeys nonetheless. He glances away for a moment, not sure of what to think of that stupid face of his. Now that he was aware he was one of the nobles that served the Royal family, someone he's supposed to loathe like how he does to others, he's unsure. He unconsciously tightens his grip on the man's hand again.

"Kunikuzushi."

The name strikes him like lightning, making his eyes widen and flinch. He almost stumbles in his steps. He shifts his gaze back to Kaedehara's, then realizing he just gave him the reaction he must've wanted. Fuck. It was a mistake on his part. He shouldn't have reacted. He shouldn't have exposed himself like this. But how did he know? It was his old name, too. Not his current name, Scaramouche.

He tries to soften his gaze— in which he fails, looking down at the man's neck instead. He swallows, parting his lips to feign his confusion and innocence. Kaedehara interrupts him.

"Focus on me, Kuni."

His words this time hold much more authority than the last one. He glances back at his face, already preparing himself for the worst. Scara stays on high alert, watching for guards or any harm that might come his way. All the while he tries to figure out this man's motive for offering him a dance. He must've known his true identity, which is why he took the chance to offer him a dance in order to get him where he wanted. Fuck. Shit, shit, fuck.

Kaedehara notices the man's panic and reaction to his words. His gaze softens, apologetic. "I'm sorry," He mutters, "I didn't mean to alarm you. I was only trying to help. I noticed your uneasiness..." Scara grits his teeth, holding back all the harsh words he wishes to say. He instead scoffs, "Really, now?" The noble nods, "Yes. Please believe me. I just thought using your real name would catch your attention more..."

His words only fueled Scara's anger more. "Kunikuzishi is not my name." He shifts his gaze away from the man again, tempted to pull away and just leave at this very moment. He could already see some people in the crowd confused about their expressions while dancing. His grip tightens around the noble's hand again, and his shoulder too, this time. He hears a sigh, "I understand. I'm sorry. But please," He stops and stays still, making Scara stop in his movements too. He brings a hand to Scara's chin to make him look back at him. Scara looks at him with widened eyes, matching with the crowd. "Relax yourself. Look into my eyes, okay?" Scara knows better than to trust his words. What if he just wants to catch Scara off-guard? The other people dancing don't know whether to continue dancing or stop. However, Kaedehara grabs Scara's hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze for reassurance.

"Focus on me."

Scaramouche does not know why he obeys this time, his gaze fixed on the man in front of him. He looks at his ruby eyes— enticing and shiny. Like a real ruby.

And he wants to steal it.

He could just laugh at himself. Why was he panicking? He was Scaramouche, the Balladeer of the Fatui Harbingers. He could easily take care of this situation. Of this Kaedehara. Why was he letting his past affect his current mission?

Their eyes stare into each other, forgetting everyone else around them for a moment. Everyone's confusion turns into amazement, and they can't help but stare at the two's movements. It was far from gentle and magical, really. But can the audience really look away at such a thrilling sight? Determined but mesmerized, the two partners' expression says it all. It was as if both were fighting for dominance, not wanting to back down. But at the same time, could not get enough of the other. Scara feels strange. He feels competitive, a bit threatened by the man’s presence. Threatened? Why should he be threatened?

He focuses on the man’s eyes like he had requested, staring in that deep red. It was as bright as blood— yet it was softer, more comforting. reassuring. He does not think of anything else at the moment— he doesn't dare to. The Kaedehara, on the other hand, feels the same. He keeps his eyes on Scara's not wanting to even blink and miss a moment of his beauty.

Scara's body bends backward, the noble quickly bending forward to match. He raises his other foot slightly, revealing his black heels that were now touching the man's leg, his legs folded and bent upward. Scara's body hangs from Kaedehara's arm, both of them close to each other. They breathe, taking their time to drink up the sight of each other's face before finally standing back up and pulling away. Scara bows down, doing a curtsy. The noble smiles in response, bowing to him too. The audience applauds, eyes still on them.

Scara could feel his anxiety kick back in once hears the crowd and snaps back to reality, but chooses to ignore his slightly trembling hand to stay alert. He observes his surroundings, checking for any danger. The Kaedehara, still holding his hand, escorts him out of the center stage and smiles at the sight of a focused Scara. Once alone in a corner, he reassures him once more. "Don't worry," he brings the back of Scara's hand to his lips, kissing the fabric of his glove. "I don't intend to harm or arrest you. No one else knows of your true identity, either."

Scara pulls his hand away, a bit flustered disgusted by the act. "Tsk," He opens back his fan, covering half of his face as he observes the people near them, eyes still directed their way. "You should've told me who you were."

"Apologies." The noble bows in front of him once more, "I am Kaedehara Kazuha. It was a pleasure to have taken your first dance."

Scara gives Kazuha's smile a glare. "You know what I want, besides your stupid name." He frowns behind the fan. "How cold.." Kazuha mutters, feigning hurt. He then smiles softly once more, "I just knew from a hunch. I had seen you with your long hair before." So that's why.

"When?”

"Before you left."

Scara corrects him, "Abandoned.”

Kazuha is surprised, but Scara had expected it. Not much people knew the truth behind 'Kunikuzushi's disappearance' anyways. But it seems Kazuha already knew a part of it, or at least suspected as much. "I see. So that's how it was." He glances down, "I'm sorry."

Scara sighs, "It's not like it's your fault."

He doesn't want his pity.

"I'm also sorry." Kazuha exhales, "For earlier. You didn't take all the attention that well, I could tell. I apologize for putting you in such a position."

Scara covers his face with his fan, his eyes straying to the side. He stays quiet, lips parted to try and at least say something. He presses his lips back together, closing them. "It's fine. I could've handled it."

Kazuha knows it's a lie. He looked around behind him— he was still the center of the attention, and he knew it bothered Scara. He takes off his suit and Scara looks in confusion. Kazuha lifts the jacket up behind him, covering him and Scara to an extent. "Is this better? Or would you rather be outside in the garden?"

Scara is surprised. He does feel a bit better, not having to look at just how many eyes were on him. However, he cannot say such words. So instead, he just nods. Kazuha smiles in response, "Good." His eyes close for a moment, smiling warmly at him. "You know, I wasn't at all sure if it was you. However, you captured my interest from the very start—" He opens his eyes to an empty space in front of him. "Ah.."

Scara had sneaked away through the door leading outside near him while Kazuha wasn't looking, taking advantage of the cover his suit was providing. Being in his line of work for a while now, he could sneak away in situations like this at the very least.

Kazuha puts his suit back on, sighing with a smile as he watches the spy walk away in the garden so casually. "How unfortunate… and here I was looking forward to a proper chat."

Scara, from afar, could still see Kazuha's ruby eyes sparkling from within the banquet. The yellow tint of the glass doesn't remove the brightness the red had. He takes off his heels and tosses them to the ground, letting his feet rest for a moment. Kazuha could be seen as precious. A ruby, just like his eyes. Which is why their interaction has put Scara's fake identity in a bad position. He needs to be careful if his superiors order him to go on a similar mission again with the same fake identity. Which he suspects will happen, given how much he fit the role and disguise.

But he wouldn't say he wasn't interested in the man. After all, he was a Kaedehara. With how Kazuha treated Scara earlier though, he knows he wouldn’t tell anyone about his true identity. At least for now. Of course, he'll have to monitor him closely and be sure to not let his superiors find out that he knows. That would put both him and Kazuha in a bad position. But then again, why should he care about what happens to him?

Scara prefers to leave that question unanswered. He knew he shouldn't care. And he does not want to know why he does, even if it was just the slightest. Scara— or Kunikuzushi, rather, is afraid of the answer.

In contrast, Kazuha was excited. He thoroughly enjoyed their short conversation, their dance, and their beauty. Having known only a little about him before, he wished to get to know the boy more. Now that their paths have crossed, Kazuha wouldn't let such an opportunity pass by. Because may it be intentional or not, Scara’s presence had stolen the noble man’s ruby eyes from the very start.

— ✦✧

[k4mukura]

I AM 21 THIS IS AN 18+ POST MDNI.

ok so idk how to use tumblr but I really want to find a longterm rp partner someone I can rp fandoms with or even ocs. Not the two mixed sorry. It’s either one or the other. This post will be all over the place bc im kinda desperate right now for an RP partner. Im into so many medias. Like demon slayer, spyxfamily, genshin, houseki no kuni, (all of) danganronpa, yttd. rpg games like hello charlotte, zeno, ib, mad father, etc etc etc. There’s more but I can’t think. Writing this in the moment.

If you’re looking for someone to rp ocs with I am the person . You might be looking for. I have so many. I don’t mind any pairings. Mostly lgbt like wlw, mlm. I have genderless / nonbinary ocs too. I’m an open book. I am super passionate about my ocs so much so I have commissioned art of so many of them. If we hit it off, chances are I’ll want to commission art of our ocs together.

I also like to connect and talk to my rp partner casually and possibly become friends. If that is not what you’re looking for then you’re not the rp partner for me. I write long, I prefer people who write about 5ish paragraphs too or I’ll be disinterested. I enjoy detail, if I get really into it o might write a lot. I use discord so I might even go past the word limit.

again this is a 18+ post so people who are adults should contact me. No one who freshly turned 18 either. Sorry. I’m aiming towards mostly 19+ at the youngest. I do enjoy nsfw, and encourage it. but with realistic plot leading up to it. I’ve been writing for over ten years. And I love writing. However I work 10 hours four days a week so some days I may not reply, but I promise I’ll get as much as I can out there within the week since I do get 3 days off every week!

I’m into various AU’s, fantasy, medieval (love this one), college aus, friends to lovers. I enjoy slow burns.

If ur interested please reach out to me thru dm I like using discord to text so please have discord thank you!

Hope this reaches somebody gejsgsjshdjjd

[primofate]

The Ruthless Prince (Part 8) Scaramouche x fem!reader [Genshin Royal AU]

Note: Officially on a one week Easter break from work! (Not to say that I don’t have anything to do for work, we’re still busy haha, but at least we don’t have to go in) Also, I actually already finished writing Ch.8 and 9 a week ago haha.... Just editing it.

Summary: When Prince Scaramouche picks you out of a random group of commoners to marry, your life is turned upside down. He’s mean, snarky, condescending and he doesn’t act like a proper husband or prince at all. However, when Prince Tartaglia from the neighbouring kingdom takes an interest in you, Prince Scaramouche finds himself even more annoyed than usual. This is the story of him and you navigating this roller coaster of a relationship.

Warnings: A LOT OF SELF REFLECTION, INTERNAL STRUGGLE AND CONFUSED FEELINGS FROM SCARAMOUCHE, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF GETTING SICK: THROWING UP, SCARAMOUCHE-CENTRED CHAPTER, you only show up for like, 30 seconds, lol, because of that, it might be a slow chapter overall, slow burn, does not exactly follow the genshin lore, AU, swearing

Word Count: 2.6k words

Summary and a recap on the Royal AU plots are here.

Read other parts: (Ruthless Prince Masterlist)

“It didn’t pierce her heart,” was the first thing the doctor says. The weight on Scaramouche’s shoulders lifted right then and there, only for it to multiply and be dumped back at the doctor’s next words.

“But the arrow wasn’t designed to kill anyway, the finishing blow is the poison-laced tip,” 

What’s that shiver up his back? Goosebumps? 

He was getting frustrated. He didn’t like this feeling. Why were there so many thoughts flitting in and out of his head? Why are there so many questions that he wants answered? Why is he trying so hard to stay still when all he wants is to pace back and forth? He’s never had to try and contain himself like this before. 

“I’m afraid there’s no guarantee. She’ll be sick for days and has to be monitored closely. The only thing I can do at this moment is to prescribe a week’s worth of antidotes,” 

Scaramouche spaced out then, just as the doctor finished talking. Kuni’s eyes glance up at the prince who is lost in thought, rather flabbergasted that he looked so out of it. “Prince?” Kuni gently chides. 

Scaramouche’s head jerks up the tiniest bit, processing the entirety of the conversation. His eyes linger on your unconscious form. You looked peaceful now, but he wasn’t sure what would happen later on.

“...Move her to another room…set Abigail, yourself and the head maids on rotation to watch her…” 

Scaramouche was wary of the incident. They kept the arrow to see if they could determine how it was crafted, where it was from, and he could not bring himself to trust the whole castle under circumstances like this. So, he asked Kuni only to place the longest serving knights to guard your door. Other than that, the whole castle was placed on high alert and the patrols outside had intensified.

Kuni bowed, and started making arrangements for it, walking out of your shared room along with the doctor, leaving Scaramouche in the silence with you. 

Strange. He thought. 

It was already quiet enough the past week, trying to avoid you and vice versa. Yet now…he didn’t think it was possible for it to even be more silent than it already was. 

It was deafening, the absence of sound. Like a ringing in his ears that wouldn’t go away.

He finally lets out that frustrated sigh he’s been keeping in, closing his eyes to calm his still disarrayed nerves. But every time he closed them he gets flashbacks of that arrow pierced through your chest. 

He grimaces, and opts to open his eyes instead. 

What do I do with myself? 

He has his arms crossed only to prevent himself from the impulse of throwing something against the wall. A vase. A chair. A pillow. Anything. And yet, his nails are digging into his flesh from how tight his grip on himself is. 

Where is this anger coming from?

He always knows where his anger is coming from. Be it something that pisses him off, a clumsy maid, things not going his way, too much paperwork, he always knows where it’s from but this time, he’s confused. 

Because it should’ve been for me but she–

Shouldn’t he be happy then? That someone took the hit for him. He should’ve been, because he was definitely saved from the days of agony and pain, but knowing that it was you who took the fall for him…that’s it. That’s where that feeling of wanting to throw up is coming from.

“...She despises me,”

“...I don’t think that’s completely correct, prince. Perhaps if you showed…a little more…support,”

Support?

Unfortunately, Scaramouche didn’t exactly know what that entailed. Was it not support enough that he gave you things that you liked? Well, now that you were bedridden…painting and tea probably wasn’t an option. So what? What would someone count as support? 

“What’s got you so spaced out today?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” 

“Oh, come on, you’ve hardly drank anything up until I shoved this glass to your face. I daresay I’m the better noble tonight,” 

Your expression. The way you tilt your chin up slightly higher to show how “superior” you were to him. The way a smug smile paints your face. He at once gets the sense that you’re trying to cheer him up, to put him at ease, despite possibly wanting to leave the party just as badly as he did.

The interaction echoes in the chambers of his mind. The way such a simple gesture, a simple sentence and a simple smile can give someone a sense of comfort. It was that elementary, that easy for you to offer him support. 

But for him, who didn’t ever have to give it to someone else, it was uncharted territory. 

Would it be foolish to try it? He felt…somewhat embarrassed, thinking of it. 

He shakes his head vigorously with a sigh. His mind had again wandered off to things that were unimportant. What’s important right now was to at least make sure you were going to survive. He’ll worry about this support thing later.

His first chance to practice “support” was given to him three days later. The first time you woke up after the whole ordeal. He hadn’t been in your room. It was Abigail, your etiquette instructor, that witnessed your eyes flying open and your arms pushing you up from the mattress.

She was startled, it had been so sudden, with no indications at all, but she was even more startled when you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed and started retching. Gagging, heaving, choking on air noises were all that Scaramouche heard when he entered the room, after Abigail alerted a maid to call for him and a doctor. 

Did he dare to look at the puddle of mess you made? He did, he had to see what exactly you’d thrown up, knowing that you hadn’t even eaten in days. 

It was mostly blood. The doctor warned that might happen when the antidote starts working the poison out of you. 

You took slow, deep breaths when you thought the sick feeling had passed, but you still stayed on the edge of the bed. You whimpered at all the sensations attacking you at the same time. Fatigue, hunger, exhaustion, pain and just this overall ill feeling in your stomach. 

Scaramouche heard it and turned to you after sending Abigail off to fetch maids for the clean-up. “Y/N,” he barely spoke your name, rolling it on his tongue seemed a little unnatural. “How…How do you feel?” He stumbled over his words. He definitely had not asked anyone that before, let alone be concerned enough to think about asking it. He was still standing tense at the foot of your bed, just watching you hoist yourself up with your arms and taking deep breaths.

Your head lolled towards him, blinking, not really caring what kinds of words left your mouth or his. You were just too out of it. “...Like shit,”

Scaramouche’s eyebrow quirked up, but somehow, that kind of answer was better than anything else you could have said, earning a small, amused grin from the prince. “Get back in bed,” he curtly commanded, strolling to the clean side of the floor as you rolled over to your back. 

“...Can I have some water, please?” you asked after a moment, feeling your throat on fire and just…the foul, irony taste in your mouth. 

Scaramouche obliged. There was no one else there to help you after all. With water already on the bedside table, he poured you a glass and passed it off after you sat up, chugging it down like it was a lifeline. You felt so thirsty. 

You winced though, when all that bad stuff had been washed down your throat, it nearly made you feel like gagging again, but you tried not to think about it as you stretch the glass back over to him. Scaramouche receives it, replacing the glass with a towel. 

You stared at the towel in your hand for a moment, wondering what the hell it was for. “...Wipe your mouth,” was his explanation and you made a sound of sudden understanding, doing as he said, realizing that you probably look like a monster right now. 

“Thanks…” and you throw the towel over to the bedside table, once again plopping down on the bed, only to feel a sharp pain on your chest as you do so, causing your hand to jerk upwards and push on your chest, where you thought the pain was coming from.

Ah, that’s right. You thought. That’s where the arrow entered. Bits and pieces of the incident comes back to you now, but it doesn’t explain why you feel so tired and exhausted. An arrow wouldn’t do so much damage, would it? To top it off, you didn’t even know how long you were out. 

“Scaramouche, are you fine?” you mumble, half delirious in your broken state. Scaramouche barely hears it and he raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

He waits, but he doesn’t get a reply. He realizes you’ve quickly fallen back asleep after that throwing up episode, and who could blame your battered body? He sighed a little, and left the room when the maids and Abigail returned. There was no point in staying there if you weren’t awake. Though he must admit, it was bugging him that you hadn’t eaten anything in 3 days. 

Scaramouche sought Kuni out the same night about that problem, finding him in his own, personal office. “Kuni,” Scaramouche greeted. 

Kuni looked up from the book he had on hand, “Prince,” greeting back naturally. “Can I help you?” 

“Y/N hasn’t eaten in 3 days,” 

Kuni was aware of that, and so was everyone else. Everyone was aware that there was a chance you wouldn’t survive. But for the prince to point it out, it was rather a strange thing to Kuni. It simply meant that he was watching out for someone else other than himself, and that wasn’t something that happened often.

“Yes, we’re hoping she’ll wake up long enough at some point, just enough to get some food into her system,” 

And then…Silence. Kuni peered over his reading glasses over to the dazed prince. It was quite obvious that the prince had been unusually quiet the past few weeks. It told Kuni that something had happened. Where before, the two of you would at least sit together and eat your meals, the prince suddenly took his meals separately from yours.

Kuni noticed it early on, but he wasn’t the least bit concerned. He had guessed that it had been some sort of disagreement, some sort of fight between the two of you. Most people would say that it was a bad thing. But, to Kuni, who had been the prince’s guardian for a long time, seeing him evidently avoid you, was a good thing.

It told Kuni that Scaramouche cared. 

Going through the effort of trying to avoid you meant that the prince was uncomfortable with something. And that was saying a lot when the prince’s usual emotions only consisted of anger and indifference. 

Kuni has to squint, but he sees the distress thinly shadowed over Scaramouche’s expression. It’s barely there, but he sees it. “...Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Scaramouche bristles, awkwardly rubbing his shoulder as he dives into deep thought. There’s so many things he wants to know. Who shot the arrow? Who did it? Why were they trying to kill him? Why am I waiting for her to wake up? 

“I don’t have control over the situation. It’s annoying,” Scaramouche says, translating what he felt into words that he was familiar with.

“...It’s called being worried, prince. Entirely natural,” Kuni took his reading glasses off and folded them atop his table, leveling his gaze towards the prince that he had served nearly his whole life. He watched as the prince’s body language shifts, uncomfortably looking away and off to somewhere unimportant, like the wall. 

Worry? Scaramouche ponders on it. Well, whatever it was, it eats at him, and it just doesn’t go away. The moment he wakes up he wonders if you’ve survived the night. At night, he finds it harder to fall asleep with the questions and what ifs in his mind. When he eats a meal at the table and you’re not there, he finds himself wondering if you’re hungry, and if your body would survive the days without any sustenance. 

All Scaramouche sees it as, is vulnerability, and Kuni sees that too. Sees how the prince struggles to accept the mess of unpleasant emotions he feels. Vulnerability was not an easy thing, not even for the normal, run off the mill guy. 

“What do you know about the princess, prince?” Kuni changes the subject, successfully diverting Scaramouche’s attention towards him, face now painted with confusion.

“What do I know about her?” Scaramouche counters the question back.

“Yes. What does she like, what she reads, what her preferred dishes are,” Kuni lists off and sees the familiar scowl on Scaramouche’s face.

“It’s not necessary for me to know–”

“Is that how you truly feel?” Kuni cuts him off and Scaramouche is rendered silent. “Communicating is not just merely an exchange of words, prince. It’s an exchange of experiences and opinions, both good and bad.” 

Scaramouche gets a flash of you animatedly talking to Kokomi and Tartaglia. The reason why you never showed that side of yourself to him was…because he never shared anything with you. That’s what Kuni was saying, and yet, it takes time for that to fully sink in to Scaramouche’s mind. 

He ponders on it for a moment, then scoffs. “It’s too late to think about that now,” and he truly felt it as well. He’d decided to be a pain in your ass from the beginning. He had no intentions–and still didn’t have any–to be nice to you. He didn’t have that in him. 

But to tolerate you? That. he found that it was something he could do and possibly even enjoy. He didn’t mind it as much as he thought it would, sitting in the art room and spending time with you, even though it was him just sitting and you quietly painting…being in the presence of each other…it was…different, but he couldn’t put a finger to what that feeling was. Comfort? Peace? 

“Why do you say so?” Kuni continues to prod the prince. This was the right time to do it, he thinks. If not now, then there wouldn’t be another time where the prince would let his guard down like this. “For as long as she lives, and for as long as you live, there’s a lifetime between the two of you, my lord. Well, assuming that she agrees to stay married,” Kuni coughed, because divorce wasn’t usually talked about in royal situations. What a disaster that would be. 

A lifetime, huh? 

Scaramouche knew that when he married you. He knew that the rest of his and your life would be bound together, but he didn’t care at that moment. What he cared about was ticking off the checkboxes that his father gave him. 

“I only offer suggestions, my lord, but perhaps, when she’s well and awake again, you might consider learning a bit more about her…She may one day be your greatest ally. Your father is a great king, but there were also many a times he would turn to the queen for guidance and support,”

Greatest ally? Support? Why would he need such a thing and why was everyone talking about it? He was fine by himself, and progressing just fine. Scaramouche was about to say something crass back, but there’s a knock on the door of the study. A maid peeks her head in and bows down a perfect 90 degree before straightening up again.

“The princess is awake. She requests the presence of prince Scaramouche,”

SUPPORT ME AT KO-FI AND READ SOME EXCLUSIVE FICS!

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

MASTERLIST

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

[magician-hero]

houseki no kuni x splatoon au !!!

spoilers for both houseki no kuni and splatoon ahead 

i joke sometimes about “wow splatoon is like one accident away from being hnk” but this time i mean it. i’m probably incredibly wrong but idc, i made this drawing at 12 and its still late and i’ve decided to type out every little detail and idea i can remember before i eventually get beaten by fatigue. 

so it’s more hnk adajcent than splatoon. u have the gems (inklings/octolings) but this time gems can be born on the moon occasionally. i thought about possibly marina and shiver being born on earth but agent 8 and neo being moon-made. OR agent 8 specifcally being moon-made with neo having rather obscure origins but being associated with admirabilis(salmon replacement i think) to a degree. marina and shiver may of been abducted at some point or willingly went to the moon in “earlier” years and came back. so marina, 8, and shiver sorta have more frills to their design concepts to mirror some of the stuff phos has later on in hnk. 

in terms of everyone else though, i think the idols prefer more mundane jobs outside of jobs but still fight to a degree. like marie and callie are probably strictly fighters but the rest of the idols do other stuff than fight the lunarians. btw idk if lunarians are octoling associated because there’s a trinity thing with the octolings/inklings/sea life. the only agent that probably does stuff outside of fighting is agent 3 is the local doctor. callie and agent 3 work together on stuff like this just incase one of them gets abducted. 

speaking of agent 3 i kinda...don’t know how to adapt what happened in octo expansion yet but feel free to add i guess? i know for certain they have BOTH a padaparadacha and phos situation simutanously with multiple gem parts but even that im wracking my brain with and wondering if i want that to be the case. in terms of what each character’s gem is. idk. the only one that is concrete is shiver who is obviously lapis lazuli becuase i liked the concept. 

hopefully this is coherent cuz its NOW 2 as i finish writing this 

[vasito-de-leche]

Welcome to my self-indulgent writing blog where I post whatever I want <3 I'm Mod Six, here are my other blogs!

@jabberwockprinceart (ARTBLOG ARCHIVE)

@jabberwockprince (MAIN BLOG)

@nobodies-png (KINGDOM HEARTS BLOG)

Art Commissions Info (CURRENTLY OPEN)

For rules, fandoms I write for and etc, etc read below--they will be updated from time to time as I see fit!

I won’t write : Matchups, anything regarding rape or explicit self-harm (ie: X reacting to the reader cutting). Explicit NSFW (ie: sex scenes, gore is fine)

I will write : Yandere, AUs, fluff, platonic and romantic interactions. Continuations of previous works, short scenarios, headcanons. In-depth analysis of characters. Basically free real estate, don’t hesitate to ask if you’re unsure about your prompt!

For Reader based requests, I’ll always use gender neutral pronouns and keep things as vague as possible. The only exception to this are LGTB+ prompts (ie : X comforting a dysphoric S/O. Y reacting to the reader coming out. Etc). Requests asking for general fem!Reader/male!Reader will be ignored.

Please, refrain from using characters from other media as reference when requesting a specific type of reader insert (ie: a reader who acts like Strategos Six from Ava’s Demon). I’m not in every fandom nor I know every character ever or what exact traits you’re hoping to see, so simply describe what you’re looking for! Don’t be afraid to send two asks if it gets too long. That helps me a lot when writing!

The max of characters per ask is 5 for now. When sending a prompt, please make sure not to mix fandoms, just so it’s easier for me to organize things. Thank you!

I don’t answer asks in a specific order, I just go for whatever catches my eye at the moment. This blog is entirely for fun, after all! Which means I also hold the right to delete and ignore any request for whatever reason

Here’s a list of fandoms I’m into that I write for! This is not an extensive list, so feel free to try your luck with other stuff, especially if you want AUs! I don’t write for Genshin Impact characters but I always like inserting different characters in the universe lmfao

These also serve as a directory to each fandom's masterlist!

Keep in mind, I tend to hyperfocus only on one fandom at a time until I lose interest.

ANIME/MANGA

Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Osomatsu-san

Houseki no Kuni

Witch Hat Atelier

Beastars

GAMES

Pokemon (Sun/Moon. Sword/Shield)

Twisted Wonderland

Hades

OFF Mortis Ghost

The Arcana

No Straight Roads

FNAF / Security Breach

Reverse: 1999

TWEWY/NEO

Final Fantasy 15

Homicipher

MISC

Ava’s Demon

Todd Allison & Petunia Violet

Miraculous Ladybug

[angstymdzsthoughts]

a houseki no kuni/land of the lustrous AU where rather than throwing WWX into burial mounds he is taken by WC and his men to Nightless City. Not long after he, his father, other high ranking Wens, and especially WLJ are seen sporting several pieces featuring very familiar gems though several pieces are "accidentally" destroyed or shattered for one reason or another

I havent seen that anime so I'm not sure if it's possible but can we have LWJ go on an epic journey to hunt down every single Wen that has a shard of WWX so he can slaughter them and slowly put WWX back together piece by piece? Mostly because I want to see him give every piece of jewelry he finds a revered, almost worshipful kiss and whispering WWXs name like a prayer while standing over the corpse of the Wen war general he just killed.

[sparklingpax]

We return to another episode of Kuni rambles incoherently on tumblr with a phone at 18%

Alternately titled, someone take my phone the f r ag away from me

Ok. I apologize if someone else has come up with this idea first and this is therefore a pale comparison to the original idea, but um, here goes. 

I want an au (?? Might have a different name based on what I'm talking about Actually, but brain Fried so I can't remember) where optimus gets to talk to his youngest self--to Orion Pax :0

Note: the times it mentions Optimus is like. from Op’s pov? Since Orion never learns his name?? If that makes sense?? Sorry this is so confusing aa a a--

so anyway Sorry for typos and grammar stuff, I'm typing this on my phone as it slowly dies Hfkdjsj hH 😳

///

Orion is pulled from his study books at the sound of footsteps.

A shadow is cast over him.

Wonder and disbelief spark in his gaze as he stares up at the rather grand figure before him.

This mech--plating a nearly exact match to his own in the red, blue, and silver coloring--seems to possess an air about him that is...neither true confidence, nor uncertain existence.

At the very least, it seems he knows who he is, and his purpose in this world. Something Orion is still working on.

Silence rests between them.

Optimus, meanwhile, feels an overwhelming sense of yearning.

Seeing Orion--seeing himself--he wishes he could go back to those days.

The simpler days of youthful naivety towards life.

When Cybertron still thrived under golden days and the silvery illumination of the moons at night.

When the buildings stood tall and beautiful and untouched.

When he could never have known the awful sight of a corpse at the end of his own sword, or the unnatural cries a bot makes as it is brutally murdered next to you, and you can do nothing but continue to fend for your own life...

"You are...studying for a quarterly exam?" Optimus asks, leaning closer to see the book. He recognizes the cover and feels a twinge in his spark.

He remembers the book.

...And that he never enjoyed Chemistry much.

"...I am.....but...how did you know?" Orion stands slowly to meet the gaze of the mech standing over his desk. His gaze turns to light worry and confusion.

Orion is acutely aware of a feeling in his spark that...a lot about this mech feels familiar.

Somehow even...intimately.

"A-actually...um...."

He stammers in the silence, fishing desperately for the words to use that would ask his question, yet still be polite.

After all, 'are you related to me?' is definitely an awkward--perhaps intrusive--question to ask a complete stranger...

Optimus continues to regard the young bot, slightly amused.

He knows what Orion is hoping to ask, but also that it would be hard to ask a question like that upfront, at least when he was a younger mech.

"Orion Pax," Optimus says, placing his servos on his hips.

"Y-yes?"

"Be careful not to stay up too late with that book. Tests require knowledge, but they also require one to be awake to take them...and sleep--"

"--helps a processor function, yes..." the smaller mech sighs, frustrated. He's heard that one before, but his mind isn't thinking about that at the moment.

Alright, so he knows my name, too. But...I've never met him? There's absolutely no way he doesn't know me somehow... but how could I possibly--

"Orion?"

He jolts at his name, almost blurting the question before pulling himself back.

The mech standing over his desk gives the gentlest of smiles and rests a firm servo on Orion's shoulder.

"I know what you are going to ask, Orion."

"You...do?"

"And I will tell you as much as I can."

What is he, inside my head now?

But he receives an answer that shocks him more than that would.

"I....am you, Orion, and beneath my title and age from my timeline....I am still you," he pauses, beginning to look a little sad now.

Orion blinks a few times, absolutely shocked.

"....but you're so....tall..." Is all he manages to murmur before realizing what he just said and instantly feeling heat rush to his face.

Optimus tightens his jaw as he doesn't wish to embarrass the archivist any further by laughing.

I was less careful with my thoughts and emotions once. If only I still knew how...

"I am a Prime, and I am fighting a war."

"A war?" Orion frowns in thought.

There's hasn't been a war since the revolution against the Quintesson oppressors.

What need had Cybertron to fight again?

"Is it an invasion of Cybertron to come? Or a resources conflict?"

And me? Fighting in that war? But...I fail every self-defense practice with Megatronus, at that's true no matter how hard I try...

Optimus feels his chest grow heavy as he remembers the pain Megatron's anger alone had caused him after the council of Halogen.

The guilt, regret, frustration at his friend's obstinance, fear, sadness...

He realizes quickly that he can't possibly unload the heavier truth to Orion--to himself--all over again.

He can't...bring himself to tell Orion that his closest friend and mentor would be the leading force in a centuries-long, gritty, bleak and somewhat horribly hopeless war against him and his cause.

So he instead offers a rather sad smile, and chooses not to answer the question.

"Orion, hear my words, even if you don’t understand them at present. No matter what happens or who around you turns for the darker path, you must never lose your spark, hope, or your character."

"My spark....and character?" He echoes, distantly. "Hope?"

"Indeed," Optimus affirms, feeling an uneasiness of his own. 

The light in his eyes has dulled, yet they also maintain a grim light to them.

One that tells Orion that this mech has seen things he wished never to have seen, and never to see again. 

A grief so strong it....scares him.

Orion feels a wave of uneasiness wash over his whole body.

Something very dark is somewhere in the future...and now he has something to do with it?

And...it involves him becoming bigger, taller, stronger? Learning to fight...to kill, maybe? 

To kill means to take a life. To end it. 

Orion swallows, at last processing the other part of what the mech had told him.

He had to become a Prime??

"I--but I couldn't...not in any dream could I..." He trails off, feeling almost too much at once. 

I cannot kill. 

Optimus senses the turmoil he's set in the younger mech and feels guilty immediately.

"Do not worry," he consoles him, reaching for his smaller servos. He then looks Orion in the eye, knowing the firmness will settle his mind. "My being here alone may be enough to stop what might happen to you, to this planet..."

Orion indeed beings to feel the pounding in his spark settle just a little.

A war would mean all kinds of devastation he couldn't begin to imagine...but this mech was from another timeline.

Perhaps we...are destined for another future.

"Above all, know that if you never lose yourself, then....whatever you become will be just as true as that," he tells him. The words are weighted with something profound. 

The archivist knows in his spark that it will be a long time before he can grasp that emotion, but he is fine with that. 

Orion blinks at him, feeling a new wave of mixed emotions he can't define. He feels himself tense as he tries to control it.

But the mech's hand reaches to his arm.

He nods encouragingly, and Orion just knows the Prime doesn't want him to pent up his emotions.

"In my eyes, Orion, you have always been a prime..."

Optimus draws back at last and slowly begins to leave.

It must be time for him to go...

Orion stands at his desk, staring, a forearm still raised.

"...Or so I am told by those around me..."

The mech adds with a mild chuckle before finally leaving the room.

Orion continues to stare at the now empty doorway ahead of him.

Was that even real?

Himself?

From another future?

And yet...there is that feeling in his spark...the gut instinct telling him to trust in what this mech had been saying, that it was all real...

He plops back into his seat, staring at the ceiling.

He is too lost in thought to try and get back into his late-night studying.

And then it sinks in.

I never asked him his name!!

He deflates a little and facepalms.

Orion, you dumbaft....

///

Nhjdjdjs I hate this, writing skils have left the chat 

bye ;w;

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraObito Word count: 1955 Soulmate au: The one where you each feel each other's pain

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 208

Madara was known by most as a clumsy person, which he’d always thought was incredibly unfair. It wasn’t really his fault that he was clumsy. Most of the time when he tripped suddenly or dropped things it was because of the sudden pain coming from somewhere on his body. His theory had always been that it was his soulmate who was the clumsy one, constantly knocking in to things or jabbing themselves, and with no warning for when it would happen Madara was of course startled in to clumsiness every time.

After nearly three decades he’d gotten fairly used to it, though it was still annoying on bad days. Driving up to the northern ass-end of Hi no Kuni with Izuna snoring in the seat beside him was probably one of the better times for his right arm to cramp up suddenly. He’d long gotten used to driving with his left hand, propping his elbow up on the center console and guiding the wheel as they rolled down some forgotten dirt road, which left his other side free to stretch out through the open window. Tons of space there.

Whoever decided that the far spread Uchiha clan needed to have a reunion probably had good intentions of reconnected several branch families with the main lines after generations of distance but in all honesty Madara was fairly sure the dust bunnies under his bed could have picked a better spot to host the damn event. Having lived in downtown Konoha his entire life, all of this fresh country air was more likely to give him some kind of asthma than anything else. The scenery was repetitive, the roads were deserted, and the one farm they’d driven by had smelled so bad he nearly threw up in to one of the empty cups that always seemed to replace themselves each time he cleaned out the cup holders. If it wasn’t for their father threatening to revoke his inheritance if he ‘insisted on showing such abysmal lack of interest in his own bloodline’ Madara wouldn’t have bothered braving the wilderness outside of his comfortable metropolis.

Startling himself awake with a particularly sonorous snore, Izuna jerked upright only seconds before they went over a solid bump that would have thrown him towards the ceiling anyway. After looking around and still seeing nothing but thick trees he sighed.

“Are we there yet?” he whined.

“Do you see anything even vaguely resembling human inhabitants?” Madara growled back. Just for that he should make the idiot drive all the way back home.

Before Izuna could say anything else the GPS on Madara's phone sprang to life after two full hours of silence.

‘In 600 meters your destination will be on the left.’

“Fucking right!” Izuna pumped the air with one fist.

“Oh thank the gods.”

“I know, I need to piss so badly.”

Madara wrinkled his nose. “You’re disgusting.”

Knowing their goal was finally within sight, he pressed the gas with just a little more force than necessary, sending them flying around the next corner to where they could at last see what appeared to be some sort rustic resort spreading out through the trees ahead. Lights twinkled at them from the windows of quaint log cabins but it was the squat and sprawling main building that drew them in with promises of other human beings and electricity to charge their phones with; thank all the gods they had booked a room early enough to secure a space there rather than in the cabins.

Unfortunately they should have known better than to be excited for the siren call of technology. From the moment they pulled in and stepped out of the car it felt as though there were relatives they couldn’t remember materializing out of thin air, always ancient and always eager to pinch their cheeks. With the baby fat he’d never entirely gotten rid of Madara had a lot of pinchable cheek area. After fighting their way through the first wave they made it inside the building but they were ambushed at the front desk by another throng of old coots warbling on about how much they had grown. Madara was fairly sure he’d never actually met half these people before.

Getting their room keys and hauling their bags in to the elevator took more than an hour with all the people that wanted to stop and chat. By the time they finally managed it Izuna looked down at his key card and whined.

“You’ll never believe this,” he grumbled. “Our room’s on the ground floor.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. In all the nonsense I never actually heard him say our room number and I didn’t have a second to check!”

“There’s definitely some stairs. Let’s take those and see if we can sneak past the crowds.”

Madara nodded. “I had no idea our genes had spread this much. The Uchiha really need to stop procreating before we overpopulate the damn planet or something.” His brother nodded in solemn agreement.

When they reached whatever floor they had sent themselves to in their rush to close the elevator both of them peeked around the sides in fear of any more distractions. Thankfully the hallway looked clear. Neither of them waited to see if it would stay that way, darting towards the fire exit sign denoting a stairwell and hustling downwards.

At the bottom they both had a moment of panic when they spotted a lone figure resting on the bottom step as though to bar the way. Whoever it was didn’t seem very interested in the racket they were making, however, and Izuna was the first to step forward bravely. The closer they got the more the figure seemed to shrink in to themselves until finally they were only a few steps above the other when their torso heaved with a deep sigh.

“Five more minutes?” the figure pleaded in the weary voice of a man probably around their ages. “It’s so boring in that stupid room.”

“You can have all the minutes you want, my dude, we’re just passing through.” Izuna gave a vague salute on the way by and skipped down the last few stairs.

Madara hurried to follow after – or tried to, anyway. For once in his life it was only his own clumsiness that struck at just the wrong time. As he came down from the bottom step he landed just in the wrong way, rolling his ankle and sending him careening in to the wall on his left. Through the sudden ringing in his ears he only just barely heard a sharp gasp from behind. Probably Izuna. His brother was a worrywart sometimes when it came to how often he hurt himself so that was fairly easy to ignore.

“Holy shit,” Izuna’s voice whispered.

“I’m fine,” Madara growled back, embarrassed to have stumbled so badly right in front of some distant family member he would technically preside over someday.

“No – I mean, yeah, that looked rough – but I…aniki…turn around.”

With a deep scowl he did as he was told. Annoying as the unnecessary worry was it was a little insulting to know the other considered something more important than his possible injuries at the moment. As soon as he turned, however, he understood.

The single dark eye staring back at him was scrunched with pain, one hand rubbing at the same spot on his forehead where Madara had just crashed in to the wall with his own. Just looked at him it was obvious that he was someone who would not appreciate any extra pain. Half of his entire face was twisted with deep scars that extended under the collar of his shirt and ostensibly continued all the way down his arm to where they were visible covering his right hand as well. To one side of him a cane could be seen leaning against the railing, clearly waiting to assist him wherever he needed to go.

“You hurt him,” Izuna said in a daze.

“I what?”

“When you ran in to the wall he grabbed his head.”

“Do try to refrain from doing it again,” the man chimed in finally. “It did hurt.”

Madara stared openly. Scars or no scars, cane or no cane, he couldn’t believe he had met the other half of his soul here in the last place he would have suspected. Despite clearly understanding the situation it seemed to take a minute or two for the gravity of it all to catch up with the other man. Only when he had finally stopped rubbing just above his brows did he freeze and gasp a second time.

“Oh shit…that…you’re…”

“Could you give us some space, Izu?” Madara refused to take his eyes off the one he’d been waiting to find but his brother didn’t seem to mind.

With a low mumble about taking both their bags to the room Izuna scurried off, leaving them alone in the stairwell gawping at each other like a pair of idiots. Clearly made to match. Once he got past the shock of seeing them Madara found that he was able to look past the scars to the attractively messy hair and the strong jawline, the way his one glittering black eye actually seemed to be enhanced by the addition of a patch over the other.

He wondered for one moment what he himself looked like, raggedy hair down his back and still wearing the wrinkled clothing he’d fallen asleep in the night before. There was no use worrying about that now though.

“May I ask what happened?” he said. The man looked away uncomfortably.

“Got in a car accident a couple years ago.”

Doubt wriggled in, drawing out a frown as Madara admitted, “I didn’t feel anything like that on my end.”

“You wouldn’t have. I blacked out on impact. Spent the next year in a coma. Only woke up about eleven months ago and I’m still going through physical therapy. Mostly I’m just…sore and frustrated.” The hand free of scars lifted to rub at the base of his neck. “Name’s Obito. Sorry I’m probably not what you were imagining.”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.” Obito’s voice practically dripped with acidic sarcasm and Madara smiled.

Stepping forward, he carefully lowered himself next to the other man on the bottom stair. “I never said you were a disappointment. Just a bit of a surprise. My name’s Madara. It’s good to meet you.”

“Is it?”

“Of course.”

His soulmate eyed him dubiously and that made his smile turn up in to a sharp expression, dark with a humor he so rarely allowed other people to see. Not many people could take the full force of his true personality but he had a feeling that he’d found one who could.

“Sounds to me like someone’s been keeping you cooped up in your rooms here in the main building. To be honest that’s probably a better option than drowning in all the old fogeys hanging around. What do you say I keep you company for a while?” He was delighted to see Obito slowly straighten his back, relief flickering over that scarred yet pretty face.

“I wouldn’t mind a bit of company.”

“Lead the way, then.”

That was the right thing to say. Although he refused any help Obito’s sudden good mood remained as he struggled his way back down the hall on obviously tired limbs. Madara resolved to work on building trust between them as quick as possible to convince the other it was okay to lean on him sometimes.

But there was time for that, as much time as he needed. They had their whole lives ahead of them to wander through life being clumsy together – and he couldn’t wait.  

[yeli-renrong]

I tried to reconstruct Proto-Mekeo from Alan Jones’s pan-dialectal wordlist, but I couldn’t find any sound changes for West Mekeo. Other than loss of *r, which is a cover symbol for the correspondence NW 0 : W 0 : N 0/l : E l, but Jones says this /l/ is intrusive, and instances of “*r” in N could just be loans from E. (N lapu-lapu <? POc *qapuk.)

In NW, *b > β - also allegedly *l > e but I think that loses you more regularity than it gets with Jones’s wordlist, so absent better information I’d call it sporadic. In N, p > f. In E, p k > f ʔ, b g w > p k f.

That doesn’t line up with the attested inventories, but neither do Jones’s wordlists. N should only have six consonants, /b k m ŋ v l/, but if I run the slightly phonemicized (e.g. [ts n] > /k ŋ/ since they’re the palatalized allophones) data through a frequency counter, I get /ŋ b k m g f l/ with >10 occurrences and /w p v t n ʔ β/ with <10. (Some of that, at least, is not failure of phonemicization; the word for ‘red’ is perfectly regular except that it has to be reconstructed as *bitoŋa.)

[v] looks like it should be /b/ -- velo ‘good’ < *belo, ivi ‘river’ ~ W ubi, NW ui (there’s some vacillation between i/u, o/u, and e/i, so *ubi/*ibi works here), and... ivi ‘water’!

[p] corresponds to E [p] in ‘dust’ and ‘heart’ and to E [f] in ‘few’ and ‘hold’. Clearly irregular, possibly errors of transcription or hearing in all cases.

[w] is entirely regular but could potentially be an error for a vowel.

[β] occurs once and corresponds to E [p], so it’s probably an error for /b/.

[ʔ] appears in eŋaiaeŋaʔiŋa ‘that’, which looks like garbage.

But it really looks to me like there’s a k/g contrast, which would put every dialect at seven or eight consonants: NW /p β k g m ŋ l/, W /p b k g m ŋ l/, N /f b k g m ŋ l/, E /f p ʔ k m ŋ l/, possibly + /w/ in all but E.

If E is the only dialect with a consonant merger, that’d make it the least useful for external comparison (anyone have a dictionary of Motu?), but of course it’s the standard dialect. Jones cites some forms from the nearby language Kuni to show that one dialect apparently had unconditional *d > g (maybe also *t > k), but it’d be nice to have outside corroboration. OTOH, ear is W aiŋa <? POc *taliŋa.

A quick search for potential POc cognates:

bite: gaŋa < *kaRati- bone: uŋia < *suRi breast: kuku < *susu come: mai < *lako mai drink: iŋu < *inum dust: N lapu-lapu < *qapuk ear: aiŋa < *taliŋa eat: aŋi < *kani eye: ma < *mata father: ama < *tama-ña feather: bui-ŋa < *pulu five: ima < *lima four: baŋi < *pat(i) (ba-ŋi?) fruit: bua < *puaq good: lobia < *ma-pia (*lo-pia?) good: belo < *paliji I: E lau < *au kill: au-buŋu-a < *puŋuq leaf: ŋaŋau < *rau (*ra~rau?) live: mauŋi < *maqurip liver: ake < *qate louse: E uʔu < *kutu moon: puia < *pulan name: aga < *qajan nose: gu < *ijuŋ road: gia < *jalan see: ia < *kita smoke: agu < *qasu suck: mika < *miji they: ia < *ira three: oio < *tolu

Not only are most of these probably wrong, a lot of them are mutually exclusive! Better methods will be necessary to figure out how the Mekeo consonant inventory happened - comparison with more closely related languages, or getting ABVD into a format that can actually be queried, or something.

[movedvalkyriesryde]

Sergeant Boinky

Pairing: Bucky x Reader but mainly platonic relationships with reader and Sam

Summary: Bucky’s got a new interest and Sam and Y/N are taking full advantage of it.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, embarrassed Bucks

Word Count: 1,853

A/N: Dedicated to @mrwinterr and inspired by this post that she shared, thanks for giving me an excuse to procrastinate my WIPs hahahah this is also not edited at all i apologise in advance

Masterlist

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was an average overcast afternoon at the Avengers compound. A quiet day, not a peep through the house, not even a mouse. 

The members that were left were either relaxing or working. Each to their own. 

Bucky Barnes lay on the couch in the common area, phone in hand, held above his head scrolling slowly but steadily.

Sam Wilson sat on the couch beside him. His feet were propped up on the coffee table he lazily leaned on his elbow as he played on his Nintendo switch. 

Y/N Y/L/N lay on the couch opposite in a similar position to Bucky, they almost mirrored each other except she held a book to the side and was making her way through.

There was a comfortable silence between the three of them. Every now and then Sam would let out an annoyed huff or you could hear Y/N turning a page but apart from that, it was peaceful.

Then Bucky spoke.

"Hey what does 'y/n' mean?"

"Yes or no" Sam didn't bother looking up when he answered and Y/N ignored them both. 

Bucky read the sentence over again in his head, it didn't make sense.

"That doesn't work," Bucky looked back to his friends more confused than before. This caught both Sam and Y/N's attention. They looked up, first at Bucky and then to each other. There was only one other possible meaning and both knew what it was. 

Neither were strangers to fanfiction, no one really is a stranger to fanfiction, unless I suppose you're about 105 and missed the rise of it. Questions started spinning in their heads at what exactly was happening in front of them.

Was Bucky reading fanfiction?

How did he find it?

Y/N's most important question was 'oh God did someone introduce him to ao3?!'

Sam's most important question was 'who the hot diggity hell is he reading about?!'

They were freaking out in their heads so much that they almost forgot to answer him.

"What's the context?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, surely it had to be something else.

"Uhh it's in a story but I don't know what it means" 

"Your name," Sam answered and Bucky nodded reading back over the sentence again.

'Bucky staring at Bucky's eyes…'  that didn't make sense still? Maybe he had to use another name? 

Y/N and Sam had sunk low into their seats, both prayed that the world would open up and swallow them. 

It was hours later and not much had changed. The embarrassment of earlier had passed and they were back to normal.

Steve Rogers had joined the gang in the common area and sat next to Sam with sketchbook in hand.

Bucky Barnes was now fast asleep with his phone resting beside him on the couch.

Sam Wilson was still playing on his Nintendo switch but was starting to get bored of losing the same boss fight over and over again.

Y/N Y/L/N had set her book aside and was now trying not to fall asleep herself. 

Then she saw it. 

The black shine of Bucky's phone caught her eye and she sat up and took two steps towards it causing Steve and Sam to turn their gaze towards her.

"What are you doing?"

"Why are you staring at Bucky?" They both whispered to her, as not to wake him up and she just smiled and shrugged.

"I'm curious" was all she said before she plucked the phone quickly from his side and sat between the two men.

"Don't you need a password to get into it?" Sam asked, catching on as to what she was curious about and he had to admit he'd thought about it too.

"This is an invasion of privacy you two realise that don't you?" Steve wasn't too thrilled with the idea of going through his friends phone, it's not like there was a need to. 

"Steve, this is a matter of life and death, now tell us his password." Sam was straight to the point and though it wasn't quite a matter of life and death per se, it was the deciding factor on how much embarrassment he was going to cause Bucky. 

"It's 0410 how do you not know that" 

"How do you know that?" Steve questioned Y/N but she merely rolled her eyes 

"It's your birthday and then his, and he told me a while ago" she smiled innocently between the two but behind that smile was mischief and she quickly unlocked the phone in Sam's hand.

Low and behold there it was in all its glory. Fanfiction. About himself. The two curious critters stifled a laugh as they read through the story. A classic enemies to friends to lovers. Everybody loves one of those. They kept looking, kept reading. Bucky seemed to have it all. Coffee shop au, roommates au, you name it he probably had it.

"Oh I'm gonna enjoy this"

"Enjoy what?" Sam locked the phone immediately and hid it from view as Y/N let out a small scream as soon as Natasha had spoken.

Natasha looked at the two questionably then at Steve who had been ignoring them and gave her a shrug. 

Bucky sat up abruptly, his eyes wide open searching the room for any kind of danger after being woken up by Y/N's scream. When he noticed nothing out of the ordinary Bucky fell back into the couch and rubbed his hands over his face.

"Why are you screaming?" He asked before getting up and making his way to the door.

"Nat scared the shit out of me, sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

Bucky grumbled an it's okay and walked out. As soon as he was out of sight Sam tucked the phone between the cushion and couch where Bucky had been and sat back in his seat. 

"Should I be asking what you were doing?"

"It's best to ignore them, that's what I've been doing" answered Steve.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

When Bucky woke up the next morning he couldn't help feel content, happy even. He couldn't help but think about the domestic life, the two story home with a cat on his lap and girl under his arm. 

He'd spent half the night in bed reading through series on his phone of that domestic life. Imagining himself as a mob boss, a writer, a college student. And strangely he didn't feel like he was missing anything. He didn't wish that life was his, in fact, it made him more appreciative of the life he had. The one thing Bucky kept coming back to was how close he was with his friends in the stories, and they were pretty spot on, that's how it was in his real life.

The only aspect he would probably change is the whole not having a girl under his arm. A specific one. 

Bucky couldn't help think of that domestic life when he walked into the dining room to see a group of his friends, his family, all chowing down stacks of pancakes and bacon and fruit.

And if that didn't surprise him enough he went into a state of shock when he walked into the kitchen to see Y/N flipping more pancakes in her pyjamas. 

He had to be dreaming? Or been thrown into an alternate reality where all of his domestic dreams are true? 

"Morning Bonky," Y/N flashed him a smile over her shoulder. Bonky? That was the nickname from one his fics he read yesterday?

"Bonky?" Bucky picked at the bacon on the bench trying to act nonchalant.

"Yea Sam and I came up with a couple nicknames for you last night, isn't that right same," Sam jumped to take a seat on the bench opposite them, a giant smirk on his face and that could only mean bad news for Bucky.

"That's right indeed and boy did we come up with some great ones Bork," Sam winked at Bucky who sighed in response. 

"Oh what about Boinks!"

"Sergeant Boinky!" Bucky rolled his eyes as the two went back and forth but there was a nagging voice in the back of his head. These names were used in the stories from yesterday and he had a feeling they knew that. How embarrassing.

"Ooh I like that one," she turned to Bucky and flashed him an innocent smile, "what do you think Sarge?"

Bucky gulped. So maybe some of those stories had chapters that were maybe not so safe for work. And maybe a common theme in them was him being called ‘Sarge’ or ‘Sergeant’. And then maybe he also had been imagining it was a certain girl who was currently stood in her pyjamas staring up at him like it was the most innocent act in the world. But there was nothing innocent going on in his mind.

“How um, how did you come up with these names anyway?” Need to get out, need to leave, this is an ambush. God Bucky wanted her to call him Sarge again, he wanted to hear her moan it in his ear and oh fuck he needed to get out of there.

“Online,” Sam’s smirk grew bigger and Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t touch my phone again.”

Y/N and Sam looked at each other then back at Bucky still trying to be innocent, but they knew they had caught him.

“I didn’t touch your phone, why would you think that?” Sam had never had so much fun messing with Bucky, but he needed to know who Bucky was picturing with him because it can’t have been himself!

“Is there something on your phone you don’t want us knowing about Sarge?” Bucky caught the growl in his throat before it could escape as Y/N finished cooking the last of the pancakes.

“No, nothing, not at all.” he shook his head and started making himself a plate of food to hide the red in his face from the two asshats.

Y/N shrugged and gave him a pat on his back, “whatever you say Bonky,” she winked at him before leaving the room. Sam came up next to him, leaning over the counter, stupid smirk still on his face, gonna smack that thing real soon Bucky thought.

“So who was it? Gal Gadot? Mila Kunis? Oh! Xena, Warrior Princess!?” Sam started jumping with excited as he kept listing off celebrities and characters he thought Bucky might have liked enough to read fanfiction about them, paired with him.

“None of your business,” he pushed past Sam and peered out the ajar door to make sure no one was listening. He didn’t need the whole compound knowing what he’s been up to.

“Oooh, or is it someone a bit closer to home perhaps?” Sam wiggled his eyebrows and Bucky rolled his eyes, plate in hand and ready to retreat back to his room.

“You know I can kill you right?”

“And yet,” he held out his arms, “here I stand.” Sam moved to step past Bucky and retreat back to the dining area but not before pausing, “don’t worry, I won’t tell Y/N.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And a big thank you for reading!

Permanent Taglist: @starvinggaywriter @witch-of-letters @turquoisekokiri @harryngtonewithyourshit

Bucky Taglist: @bxrnsfeyson @brilliantbellesoares

[despair-ninja-everything-agency]

Houseki no Creed AU: Time Displaced Assassins Part I - Human in HnK setting

The idea is that time traveling happened when someone (or some Gem) came in contact with certain Piece of Eden. In this part, I want to expand first the possibility of having a time displaced human in Houseki no Kuni setting. I'll make part two about gem in human society later.

First thing first, how would a human being thrown to the apocalyptic future. Since there's a variety of Pieces of Eden, I would say they came into contact with one and either get literally thrown to the future or experiencing a vision akin to the AC 3's Tyranny of King Washington DLC scenario.

The discovery itself would shake the Gem community, as they never seen a human before. They would first think that the human is one of the Lunarian.

The Gems are most likely to attack human first, as per aforementioned info. Since this is Assassins we're talking about, the human would defend themselves and try to talk the Gems out of it.

In term of language, I think there's no known set language in-universe for HnK yet. So whatever the language the human is speaking, I'd imagine the Gems to understand in some way regardless albeit might be with difficulty with certain words or phrases.

The Gems would take the human 'prisoner' and take them to Kongo-sensei for further interrogation. Sensei understandably would be surprised to see a human, as they had been extinct by the time HnK takes place.

I'm still debating his stance on discovering a living human before him. Curious, yes. But would he be furious? Would he be indifferent? Or he'd welcoming? Either way, he would ask the human several questions regarding their existence and in return would answer every questions the human ask to him.

The Gems are of course curious and intrigued, maybe wary as well. What are they? They look like Lunarian but they aren't one? What is a human anyway?

If Rutile is there, they might want to do some... Dissection on the human. Of course, Sensei forbids them to do so.

Survival would be a main task here beside finding a way back to their time. With severely limited food source and lack of fresh water beside rainwater, the human must find a way to gain food and drink as well as reserving them during winter.

In short, life is hard for you if you're a human in HnK's future.

Aiding the Gems fending off the Lunarians can be an option. The human think they can find answers if they come in contact with the Lunarians. The Lunarians would of course shocked that there's still a human existing.

I think the human would generally be accepted by the Gem society despite the initial distrust.

Obisidian or any blacksmith Gems would provide the weaponry if needed. Red Beryl or any tailor Gems would make new clothes and fix the damaged one.

The Gems can learn about human culture from the human, since I think it would be pointless for Sensei to withhold that information anymore now there's a human among them. Likewise, the human can learn about the Gems' society and their conflict with the Lunarians.

I think the human would rarely see an Admirabilis since either few remain at the sea or all of them had been taken by the Lunarians, depending on the era the human landed on.

[71tenseventeen]

Home for the Holiday

The cheesy Hallmark Christmas AU no one asked for. 

Contrary to what everyone thinks, Sidney likes his house.  He does.   

He likes the way the light shines into his living space and the layout of the main floor, the way everything is open and airy.  He loves the location of his bedroom and the shower in the en suite is probably one of the best things he’s ever invested in. It’s big enough but not too big, the kitchen is great and back yard is really wonderful. It’s a really great house.

He just—he doesn’t know how to make it feel like home.

He started by filling it with furniture that he picked and really likes.  And that made it better but it still wasn’t quite what he wanted. Then he’d gone to Tanger’s house for dinner and realized that their house felt so...warm.  Not warm in temperature but in color and design.  There were so many things besides just the furniture.  Photos, paintings, art, plants, pillows, throws—so he’d enlisted Catherine’s help and together they spent hours and hours at Target and Ikea and then several more hours placing things throughout the house and Sidney really liked the result.  It looked really great and it was nice having the extra throws and the pillows on the couch and he even liked his new house plants.  It was great.

But it still wasn’t right.

He thought maybe it was just because the house was new, the furniture was new, all the art and random house things—all of it was new.  So he gave it a few months until much of it was gently worn and a little cozier and he liked that.

But it still wasn’t enough.

He tried new paint colors, fresh flowers, interesting landscaping and even had his friends over for dinner a few times.  And he enjoyed all of those things—both the process of planning them and then actually having them.  

But at the end of day he still goes to bed feeling slightly off center, like something is missing.

Sidney isn’t stupid.  He realizes that the friends whose houses he spends the most time at— Flower, Kuni, Duper, Tanger, Horny—they all have families. And maybe he’d think that was it but every time he dates someone and invites them over, he mostly just looks forward to them leaving at the end of the evening so he can have his space again.  And besides, lots of people live alone and don’t have this issue so it can’t be that.

When the holiday season rolls around, between games, practice, interviews and holiday parties, Sid’s schedule is packed.

By the middle of December he’s already going to his fourth holiday party—this one at Flower’s. Sid has always enjoyed Christmas lights and decoration as much as the next person but when he pulls into Flower’s driveway, his first thought is “Wow.”

Flower’s house looks amazing.  He’s even had some landscaping done in the front to add new bushes and trees that lights are draped around.

His second thought is,This must have taken him days. Where does he find the time?

Between games and practice and road trips and, frankly, everyone else’s holiday parties, Sidney doesn’t even have up a tree yet let alone a single strand of lights.  He’ll be lucky if he manages to get some kind of wreath on the door—though he doubts it will matter.  Christmas decorations are fun but he doesn’t have kids running around or family visiting or even any parties planned so will anyone even see them?

He shrugs and gets out of his car, whistling at the the small trees lining the path to the door, all lit up with muted blue lights. It’s a nice touch, he thinks, and figures he’ll tell Flower as much.

Except when he gets inside, he temporarily forgets about the little trees because inside looks, if it’s possible, even more amazing than outside.  A soft theme of blue and white has been carried throughout the house and even though there are lights and trees and decorations everywhere, none of it seems overdone or obnoxious.  

It’s a nice night with good friends.  Sid adores all of these people and he loves being around them and their families. He compliments Flower on the house as they’re both loading their plates up in the kitchen.  

“Everything looks amazing!  How did you find time for any of this?”

“You’re kidding right? You think I did this?”

“You didn’t?”

Flower claps Sid’s shoulder. “I appreciate the vote of confidence but no.  We hired this guy that someone recommended to us and I don’t think I’ll ever hang a Christmas decoration by myself again.”

“That good, huh?”

Flower stuffs a too-big bite of turkey into his mouth before motioning around the house.  

“Yeah, you have a point.”

“I can get you his number if you want.  Nice guy and he knows hockey. Big Russian dude. I don’t know where he learned to do all of this and I don’t care. All I care about is that it made Vero and kids happy and I didn’t have to break anything getting any of it up.”

Sid cocks a grin. “Yeah, okay.  I’ll let you know.”

--

Sid is sweaty and annoyed.

After walking around his house all morning the day after Flower’s party, he decided fuck it and dragged out the tree and few strands of lights he could find in his closet.

Everything is a disaster.  The artificial tree is losing more needles than it’s actually retaining and it keeps leaning no matter what Sid does.  He put three strands of lights on the tree before thinking to plug them in only to find that half of the first strand won’t light up, the second strand blinks and the third strand is only red and green.

He says a lot of words, none of them nice, before abandoning the tree to try to wrap the remaining strand of lights around the stair banister.  It stretches approximately five steps up and it’s not until he gets to that point that he realizes there’s nowhere even remotely close to plug it in.  

Just fuck everything.

He gives up and calls Flower.

--

The russian man, Geno, seems a little surprised at all that Sid wants done with so little time until Christmas but he is confident he can do it and agrees to come out later in the day to do a “walk around.”  Whatever that means.

As it turns out, “walk around” means exactly that.  They walk around Sid’s property, both inside and out, and Geno asks Sid a lot of questions to try to determine what he likes while jotting notes into a little notebook.

Sid gets a little frustrated because he doesn’t really know what he likes in terms of decorations.  It’s more about how it makes him feel but he doesn’t know how to explain that and he probably wouldn’t explain it to this man he just met even if he could.  So he sticks with what he knows about his style in general.

“Simple.”

“Simple.  Okay, can work with that.”  He leads Sid to the center of the front yard, facing the house.  “Okay, if you can picture.  What if we do…”  And he describes a display that would probably make Sid’s house look like it belongs on the cover of a magazine.  And Sid is sure it would be beautiful but…

“Sid? You not like idea?”

“No, it’s not that! It sounds really nice. I just…”  Sid looks around his yard.

“Is okay to tell me.  Won’t hurt feelings.”  Geno offers him up a soft smile. “Your house.  Need to like how it looks.”

Sid smiles back and takes a deep breath.  “I...yeah.  And it does sound really nice but maybe a little, I don’t know...sterile?”

Geno nods. “Can work with that. You want simple but not impersonal?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Sid gives Geno a sheepish smile.

“Okay, I have idea.  Let’s go inside where warm, let me walk through again and then I have another question or two for you and show you some pictures.  Might help with ideas.”

“That would be great.”  

They head in and Sid walks through with Geno again, wondering what it is about his house that has Geno looking so thoughtful and jotting down notes here and there.

They circle back around to Sid’s kitchen.  “Would you like some coffee or tea? Or, I think I have some juice.”

“Tea is great,” Geno says, looking around again before his eyes land on the bouquet of flowers on Sid’s kitchen table. He’s taken to buying fresh ones for the kitchen and living room every week.  He kind of likes how all the different colors seem to brighten things up. “We sit at table?”

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I’ll be right there.”

Once the tea is made and they’re settled, Geno flips through his notebook again. “You say you really like Marc’s house when you see.  What did you like about it?”

“Oh wow.  Well…” Sid trails off and thinks for a moment. “I guess I liked that it all seemed so, I don’t know. Warm...and friendly.  I liked the blue.  And even though there was a lot, it didn’t seem too busy, you know? I guess I liked that it was unique without looking like three thousand boxes of lights threw up on the house.”

Geno grins. “Right.  Better check that idea off list.”  He makes a show of making a mark on an empty notebook page and Sid laughs.  

“I know you wouldn’t do anything tacky like that.”

“I do what client want.  But if I get own preference? I try to avoid that.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being too difficult.”

Geno shakes his head.  “You not.  Really.  Trust me, this nothing. Besides, think I’m start to get idea about what you may like.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about lots of colors? If do carefully?”

Sid turns that over in his mind for a moment.  It makes him think about the lights on the tree when he was growing up, always multi colored and twinkling.  He smiles. “I like that.”

“Ok good!  Good place to start.  Now,” he pulls the tablet forward again and opens up an album.  “You scroll through these?  Your house will have own unique look but might give some idea of things you like.”

Sid nods and pulls his chair around a little so he can point things out to Geno.  He flips through and mentions various things that he likes (and a few he really doesn’t) until he gets to a picture of the most beautiful tree he’s ever seen.  It’s very simple, with muted multi colored lights that somehow seem to give off an almost soft purple-blue hue even though there are several colors on the strands.  The ornaments don’t match—they just seem like a hodgepodge of random things but Sid loves that.  Off to the side, he can see the end of a banister wrapped in evergreen garland and the same lights as the tree. He can see the end of what appears to be a rumpled blanket balled on the sofa and there’s a dog flopped down on top of a house slipper.  And this—he loves this.

He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until Geno says, “What you see that make you smile like that?”

Sid turns the tablet around and Geno lets out a soft snort of laughter.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing wrong.  Just—that my house.  Not professional photo, just one I snap to show that type of light. Sam almost ruin picture.”

“Sam?”

“My dog. Very goofy but love him anyway.” Geno grins.

“No way. My dog’s name is Sam, too!”

Geno glances around looking a little confused.

“Oh.  She’s in Nova Scotia with my parents. I’m away too much to have her here.”

“Must be big bummer.”

“Yeah, it is.  She’s the best.” Sidney smiles fondly, thinking of her and wishing not for the first or last time that she could be here with him.

“Best name for best dogs.” Geno winks at him and Sidney can’t help laughing.

“Okay, let’s talk about what you like.”  

So they do and it takes another hour but when Sid sees Geno to the door, Geno has created a detailed plan and has set up a time to come back the next day to get everything started.

--

Sidney loves the way his house looks.

He really, really loves it.  

Somehow Geno managed to figure out what Sid would like when Sid himself didn’t even know.  Every single part-the yard, the trim, the tree, the inside decorations—all of it is so perfect and Sid happily forks over every penny he owes Geno along with a generous tip.

Sid doesn’t think it’s too much to also send him Pens tickets and a Pens collar and toy for his Sam.  

When the holiday season is over, Sid hires Geno to redesign his landscaping.

In April he calls on Geno to redesign the front to include spring flowers.

The holiday lights, the landscaping, the flowers—that stuff still doesn’t give him the feeling he’s looking for in his house but he likes it and maybe he’s imagining it but he feels like he’s a little closer to it every time.

In late May Geno calls Sid outside to show him the end results of the project he just finished up—changes to the trees and some new planters. Once he’s sure Sid’s happy with the results, he nods and squares his shoulders but just as he opens his mouth to talk, Sid speaks instead. “I was thinking maybe when fall rolls around, we could do something new again.”

Geno frowns and doesn’t hide it in time.

“I, or... no?”  

“Can wait five minutes before you hire me again, Sid?”  He looks a little flustered and Sid flushes deeply.

“Oh. I—sorry? I just thought, um. I didn’t realize you didn’t want... That’s okay.  I won’t bug you again.  Thanks again, though. For all this. I…”  Sid trails off, not understanding the sting he feels in his chest but wanting very much for this moment to be over.

Geno huffs. “Sid, not care you hire me so much, just need you to wait five minutes because I can’t ask out client and if you hire me right away you still client.”

Sid’s head snaps up, eyes wide as he meets Geno’s. It takes him a few long seconds to comprehend what Geno said but then—“You’re asking me out?”

Geno steps closer with a soft smile.  “Want to, if you want, too.  If you say no, that okay too. I just want to for awhile now and won’t know until I try, yes?”

And that—Sidney knows he’s still blushing but he doesn’t care much.  He offers up a soft smile and slight nod. “Yeah. For sure.”

“Sid, would like to take you out sometime.  You want?”

“Yes.”

--

It’s almost Christmas again and it’s a rare night off for Sid.  They spent the evening cooking dinner and then eating together in Sid’s kitchen. Now they’re sitting together on the couch, Geno’s legs stretched out with Sid tucked close against him. Geno’s turned on all the Christmas lights and turned off all the rest of the lights because he knows how much Sid likes that. He went multi color again this year but this year, Sid didn’t hire Geno.

This year, they did it together.

Sid glances around in the dim light with a smile.  From where he’s sitting he can see a hoodie of Geno’s slung on the other end of the couch they’re sitting on.  There’s a book on the coffee table that Geno’s been reading and they’re covered up with a blanket that Geno’s Mom made for him several years ago.

There are a few dog toys scattered around and Geno’s Sam is sleeping on his side in front of the tree, body sprawled on top of one of Sid’s slippers. Sid’s Sam is right next to him, curled up around his head.

In between one breath and another, Sid realizes he hasn’t felt anything lacking for a long time.

Sid nestles closer into Geno and smiles wider.  He’s finally home.