#MCS WITH A SILVER TONGUE <33

[evertidings]

i've always been a big fan of enemies/rivals-to-lovers trope in general, but blane/mc have already managed to raise the bar so high that i fear nothing will ever top them for me. i do enjoy some good old sexual tension between characters, but the fact that it's not a factor in their relationship development makes it even more appealing to me <3 also, funny story, i had a feeling blane would become my fave even before i knew anything about them, and not only did i immediately prove myself right, my hunter accidentally ended up having a lot of similarities with them lol. touch averse, sex repulsed ace, transferred from another branch, white hair, silver tongue, loves green 🤝 it's so funny but also really nice. i really love the story and the characters you wrote, thank you so much for your hard work 💚

i love getting asks like these because like, i get it. rivals/enemies to lovers dynamics usually depend on sexual tension. and because Blane's doesn't, it was initially a little nerve-wracking for me to put out into the world.

i wanted people to like it, but i was worried people would sexualize Blane without my consent. and sure, for a while they did—it was inevitable, really—but now everyone's so supportive and it makes me so happy.

so yeah, sappy post but ty. despite being such a grump, Blane is one of, if not the, most loved ro(s) in the game and it means a lot to me <33

[riptide-if]

What are the fashion senses of the ROs? What do they wear on a day to day basis?

ANON. im seriously so glad u asked u dont understand.im actually going to attatch the long descs i wrote of their everyday outfit (like in a vn..) also theres more fashion/makeup inspo on their boards on my pinterest! there's also boards for bg charas on there:33 so if u r interested in lee's band or aria there u go;p

HILO: an orange tank top with a ruffle trim paired with an off white maxi skirt. A pair of dark brown double strap sandals are on their feet. A gold ring with an infinity symbol is on the pointer finger on their right hand, accompanied by two thick threaded bracelets; the first one being yellow and orange, and the other [MC fave color] and orange. They have long almond shaped acrylic nails; colors varying. They tend to get a new set every three weeks. They wear a pair of orange bead earrings with a gold moon charm on the left ear and a gold star charm on the right ear. A pair of gold hoop earrings goes through their upper lobes in both ears.

LEE: a black shirt that’s cropped just above their stomach, with a graphic of a black skull outlined with white. A black zip-up hoodie is either halfway zipped up, tied around their waist, or discarded. A black and grey striped fingerless glove is covering one hand the other is covered in an assortments of rings including a silver skull ring and a silver ring with a red garnet stone, gifted to them by MC on their one year anniversary. Elijah wears short black cargo shorts while Elaine wears a black cargo miniskirt. They both have (optional) distressed tights underneath them. They wear two black earrings on each upper ear, a pair of silver skull earrings, two black rings on their lips, silver eyebrow stud piercing, silver septum piercing, and a silver star shaped tongue ring.

NOEMIA/NIKITA: a white long sleeved compression shirt is worn underneath a yellow, purple, and white color block windbreaker; either unzipped or balled up and put in their bag. A pair of black athletic shorts with a white adidas logos in the corner is covering their legs. They normally carry a yellow crossbody bag with an assortment of different pins on it (bisexual flag, mang, surfboard, bmo, spiderman, no pain no gain, shark, pufferfish, wave). They wear a pair of green pair of star skate shoes over a pair of colored socks; always mismatched. An anklet with white beads is around their right leg, a similar one with teal beads underneath it. A gold ring with a white teardrop shaped opal ring given to them by their grandma sits on a leather chain around their neck. Two to three hair ties are always around their wrists.

ARLO: an untucked white short sleeved t-shirt is usually worn under his rotation of lightly colored button ups, sweater vests and cardigans. A pair of light denim overalls is over it; with some barely visible paint stains here and there. He wears a pair of black oxford shoes with this. On his wrists are a few braided leather bracelets. He wears a gold vintage coin necklace around his neck along with matching small gold hoop earrings. A thing elastic headband is sometimes holding back his bangs while he works.

as for key words in my notes i have; hilo is whimsical, lee is emo (lol), n is sporty, and arlo is cozy!

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

Reason ~ ch. 34

pairing: female oc (devon alba) x levi ackerman

tropes: instructor x cadet, strangers to lovers, male mc falls first

warnings: angst/slow-burn, strong language, upcoming smut(18+ readers only for those chapters pls 🙈)

brief summary: This story takes place a few years after the Fall of Shiganshina. Devon Alba is in her final year of the 101st Training Corps (844-847), due to her success as a cadet she gets the chance to meet Captain Levi. She doesn’t think too much of him until he catches her in the midst of doing something that she isn’t entirely supposed to be doing. But surprisingly, this leads to something unexpected...

ch. 1 [...] ch. 33 | chapter 34 | ch. 35

“Hey.”

She spun around at the familiar voice.

There Levi stood, arms crossed, leaning against the bookshelf.

She nearly dropped the book she was shelving but caught it.

“You-“ she blinked before her brows furrowed, “How long have you been standing there?”

He glanced down at the pocket watch in his hand, “Two minutes.”

He slipped the watch into his pocket before stepping towards her.

“You were so focused, couldn’t bring myself to bother you.” he muttered.

He plucked the book from her hand and flipped it over to skim the back.

She stared at him in shock, “H-how are you here?”

When she woke up this morning, he was already gone from the couch in the living room. Blanket folded neatly on the coffee table.

Off early to work, as usual—she’d assumed.

He glanced up, skimming the authors names on the bindings before shelving the book where he guesstimated it would go.

“You weren’t home.”

She glanced towards the shelf to see he’d guesstimated correctly.

He looked over at her, “I wanted to see you.”

She flushed before meeting his gaze.

She’d forgotten it was noon already. He usually had a lunch break around then. Sometimes she’d try to take her breaks around that time so they could eat lunch together at the apartment.

She never expected him to show up to her workplace if she missed it.

“Why’s the store so empty.” he asked.

“Not a lot of people come to a bookstore during their lunch hour on a Tuesday.” she quipped.

Just as she reached over to grab another book from the cart a hand slipped over her stomach, easily drawing her chest to chest with him.

He caught her gasp with his lips. His tongue easily melting away any form of coherent thought she had left. Warmth spread through her instantly, the second they made contact.

It’d already been several days since their first kiss and it was still the same. The feeling his lips induced within her never faded in the slightest. It was just as potent each time.

Her core ached, her skin buzzed and her lips yearned for him.

He backed her into the bookshelf and she grabbed his shoulders. Her shock rendering her helpless under his greedy lips.

Her knees weakened as he continued to kiss her like he had something to prove. His hand slipped around her head to prevent her head from digging into the shelf.

She quickly pried her lips away from his, “My coworkers m-might see us.” she warned in a low whisper.

She blinked several times, attempting to get out of the daze he’d sent her in—in mere seconds. Her face felt hot. Her body alight with exhilaration.

He sighed, though the subtle sheen of adoration within his eyes indicated he was anything but dissatisfied.

His silver eyes scanned her face before glancing down as he stepped back.

“Then come home for lunch.” he grumbled.

She smiled slightly. He was so much more than she ever could’ve expected.

For one, he was touchy. So touchy. Well maybe not as touchy as she made it seem-considering it was her first relationship-but he always seemed to be near her whenever they were together.

Whether it be something as subtle as a gentle hand at her back or him standing a slight bit closer to her, especially in public. It drove her insane.

She wasn’t used to it in the least. Especially since they’d rarely touched before their kiss but it was all so different now.

Sometimes she wondered how this was real.

His gaze dropped to the little smile on her lips. His eyes narrowed.

She quickly wiped her smile away before he could do anything impulsive again. She’d learned that it didn’t take him much to want to kiss her.

She could look at him a little too long—despite not having meant anything by it, and he’d be on her.

Once when he was on his way out the apartment she’d stopped him to quickly tie his cravat around his collar—since he’d forgotten it on the table. He’d enraptured her in such a vehement kiss that when he left she’d fallen to her knees to catch her breath.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to survive.

She also questioned how he’d managed to conceal his feelings for so long when he was so keen on her.

She often wondered if he was this passionate because of how long he’d held back or if it was truly because of how much he wanted her. Either theory kicked off the butterflies in her gut at an ardent pace.

She turned around—quickly shelving a book to hide her face. She refused to let him see her gushing over him.

“That doesn’t go there.” he noted monotonously.

She glanced over to see that he was right. In her flustered state she’d misshelved it in the wrong spot.

Her face heated up once more.

She decided to utilize her slight annoyance to override her butterflies.

She turned around and pushed him out of the bookshelf area, in the direction of the door.

“Don’t you have work to get to? Don’t be late.” She spoke hurriedly.

He glanced towards her, “Tryna get rid of me?”

He raised a thin eyebrow, as if offended yet curious.

She shook her head before leaning against the nearest bookshelf.

She tilted her head, “I’ll see you at home.”

She was sure he was going to make some witty remark but his eyes softened. She didn’t know how much that simple statement meant to him.

It didn’t help that she looked so pretty while saying it either.

A tiny smile flickered at the end of his lip, “Okay.”

Her eyes widened before she swallowed. She suddenly regretted not going home for lunch.

He looked her up and down once more—as if engraving her to his memory before his gaze hardened.

“Go straight home after work. Don’t even think of running one errand til I get there.” he ordered.

“Only if you let me pay.” she teased.

“Stop talking shit.”

Devon stepped out of her room. She felt refreshed after her late shower and in her warm, clean-scented sleepwear.

“Levi?” she asked when she didn’t spot him on the couch.

He wandered out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a cloth before tossing it into the wash bin.

They’d had a busy day. After he’d come back from work in the evening they’d run to do groceries before the market closed—since he insisted that they do errands together.

He’d helped her lug the groceries home and assisted her in putting them away. He’d done some paperwork while she had cooked them dinner. He had offered to help her cook but she merely shooed him away. The kitchen was her place and her place alone when she was in it.

After she served and ate dinner with him she decided to shower. He’d already gotten started on kitchen clean up when she’d entered the bathroom.

It seemed he’d just finished the last of the dishes.

He glanced at her before approaching, “Hm?”

He stopped right before her, his gray eyes perusing her from head to toe. She always wore his old clothes as sleepwear—completely unaware of what that did to him.

She ran a hand through her long, damp hair. She’d towel dried it but it was still damp. She liked to let some of it air-dry.

“I‘m gonna head to bed. I’m a little sleepy.” she told him softly.

He nodded. 

She distractedly moved a couple strands of wet hair away from the side of her face. She’d just brushed through it but it was still a bit all over the place.

He watched her every move, as if he didn’t want to miss a second. His fingertips prickled with the need to touch her.

She looked at him, “Do you want me to make you some chamomile tea?”

He shook his head. “S’fine.”

Apparently the tea was helping him sleep a bit. She wasn’t sure if it actually was or if he was just telling her that to put her at ease.

Eitherway, she preferred to make it for him before bed.

She glanced towards the couch, noticing that his blanket and pillow hadn’t been laid out yet.

“I’ll set up your bed.”

She took a step towards the couch.

Suddenly his hand went to her hip, blocking her from moving.

“Tch, I’m not a baby. I can do things myself.”

Her hand went to his forearm—just above his hand on her hip. She suddenly felt shy.

“I know.” she’d meant to say lightheartedly but instead it came out as a murmur.

She attempted to keep her cool by continuing the conversation.

She tilted her head, “Am I gonna see you in the morning?” she inquired.

He usually slept on the couch overnight. Sometimes when she got up for work he’d be sound asleep and would wake up despite how quietly she tried to move about in the kitchen. He’d join her in making breakfast.

Other times he was gone, having already left to work early.

He nodded.

“Yay.” she mused quietly. In truth, her heart was racing at an erratic pace. Their proximity-his touch was messing with her mind.

A faint glimmer of amusement passed over his eyes before he leaned in.

He kissed her. She knew it was coming. They always kissed before she went to bed.

His lips were soft on hers, almost as if he were pacing himself. It was easier for her to keep up with him when he kissed her slow. Though he didn’t know his slow kisses seemed to sear through her skin regardless.

She held onto his neck, pressing her lips to his to match his gentle probing. Her lips ached, already swollen from the plentiful amount of kisses she’d received over the past several days since he’d come back.

She momentarily lost her balance and accidentally bit into his lower lip.

She gasped when she was shoved against her closed bedroom door. A low growl seemed to emit from somewhere within him and he was kissing her with unwarranted ferociousness.

Her hands pulled at his hair as his tongue played magic tricks on her lips, mind and body. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t—

His hand on her hip squeezed so hard she was sure it was going to leave a bruise. His other hand firmly pressed to the door as he tilted his head to claim her lips.

She instinctively arched into him and his hand inadvertently slipped up her hip, under her shirt to her waist. His fingers eagerly slid up her soft skin before gripping the curve of her waist with newfound hunger.

She gasped out loud before he quickly broke the kiss. He suddenly became aware of the situation and went still.

This had happened once before, they’d been kissing and somehow she’d ended up cornered into the wall adjacent to her room door. He’d stopped then as well.

Their rushed breaths intermingled for a moment before he gradually removed his hands from her. His hand lingering a bit longer on her waist than necessary before he withdrew.

He took a step back and straightened, unable to meet her eyes.

“Goodnight.” he muttered. He was flushed.

She looked at him, her eyes wide. She felt somewhat relieved. He seemed to have some sort of invisible boundary with her bedroom, he never entered it. Not at night anyway.

She bit her lower lip, “Goodnight, Levi.”

His eyes flickered to hers and the heat in his sharp eyes nearly sent her into cardiac arrest.

Holy shit.

A rush of heat and fear shot up her spine. Her skin simmered with a fierce magnetism—urging her to get close to him.

She swallowed, immediately looking down.

She inhaled sharply before quickly stepping into her bedroom. Avoiding eye contact the entire time until she shut the door behind her.

She slumped against the door. Her hand went to her chest as she felt her heart pounding within her ribcage.

She shook her head. A sense of unpreparedness sinking within her.

She suddenly clamped her hand around her mouth when she realized she hadn’t heard him leave from beside her door yet. She was breathing really loud, she prayed he hadn’t heard.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her breath to even out. A moment later she heard his light footsteps pad off somewhere else.

She dropped her hand, exhaling, before slumping further against the door.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What am I gonna do?

She suddenly had this sinking feeling she’d started something she wasn’t sure she could finish.

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 33: Cover Up. Yoshimoto tries to help Katsu cover up her black eye. Shingen notices anyway.

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: Here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

THUMP!

Shooting arrows at targets wasn’t doing much to improve my turbulent emotions, but on the upside, I hadn’t missed any shots either, even during my speed drills. So at least there was a comfort in knowing that my muscle memory wouldn’t fail under the stress of internal upset. In fact, I might have been more accurate than usual.

THUMP!

“You could be Artemis, the Greek Goddess of the hunt.” Out of the corner of my eye, I’d seen Yoshimoto come into the practice yard, but he’d politely kept quiet until I finished loosing a round of arrows. Trust him to be familiar with Greek mythology.

“Isn’t one sweet talker in your family enough?” Apparently, the silver tongue gene was dominant.

“Standards must be kept,” Yoshimoto said, before following my example and speedily sending off seven arrows, one after another, into the targets. “I was told that you were looking for me. Why?”

I jogged out to collect all our arrows before replying. “Two reasons. One, I managed to get my hands on a letter you’d be interested in.” I’d read the stolen letter already – it contained the names of the Imagawa vassals who were interested in joining Yoshiaki. Although I planned to give the original letter to Shingen, Yoshimoto needed to know which of his vassals were disloyal. The knowledge that more vassals were dissatisfied wouldn’t be welcome news, but at least it was a short list.

He sighed. “Sounds ominous, and probably like something that is going to cause me a lot of stress and headaches… what’s the other reason?”

I handed him his arrows, giving him the first full view of my eye. “Getting the letter involved a bit more effort than I planned for.”

He put down his bow, then put his hand under my chin, examined my face carefully. “I see.”

“Can you cover it up?” I figured either Mai or Yoshimoto could help here, but Yoshimoto was more likely to be able to cover up both the black eye and my secret. “With cosmetics? You were going to teach me those in any case.” My make up skills were limited to making my eyebrows seem more ‘boyish.’

That comment gained me another sigh. I had a feeling that sometimes Yoshimoto thought I was exhausting. Still, I would take Yoshimoto’s exhaustion over Chiyome’s amused condescension or Sute’s sly hints that she knew Shingen ‘very well.’ “Fashionable cosmetics will involve painting your entire face and neck with a layer of thick white powder.”

Oh. That wouldn’t work. Or rather, it would work, but it would likely create additional questions. “Could you … blend shades together with my skin?” Ok, I was willing to risk a temporal paradox in the invention of concealer. Which wouldn’t otherwise be invented until… actually, I had no idea. But it hadn’t been invented yet.

“Interesting concept.” He picked up his archery equipment. “I can try. And in the meanwhile, you may tell me about this letter that you went to such trouble to acquire.”

A short while later – after, upon a very strong suggestion by Yoshimoto, I had bathed off the odor of fish guts – we reconvened in his quarters. While Yoshimoto busied himself with his supplies of cosmetics and watercolor paints with the attitude of an alchemist who has been set the task of transmuting lead into gold, I read him the letter and copied down names for him.

“What will you do about them?” I squinted at the list. Lucky for Yoshimoto my handwriting wasn’t as terrible as my drawing.

“Truthfully, there isn’t much I can do. As long as it’s a minority of vassals wishing to join Yoshiaki, the status here will be unchanged. The majority will stay here in Kasugayama, especially when the weather turns colder. The Imagawa are prideful – but they also like their creature comforts. Those who want to leave on their own - I cannot stop them… if they later wish to return to the fold of the Imagawa, I cannot prevent that either.” He tested a couple different tints on my wrist. Everything faded right into my skin. “Needs to be thicker.”

“So, this is a case of you can choose your friends, but you cannot choose your relatives?” I tentatively touched the skin under my eye. It didn’t feel like the swelling had gotten any worse. Small miracles.

“Close your eyes.” He approached me with a paintbrush. “Correct. Although since you intercepted their letter, those vassals will not receive a response from Yoshiaki, and may settle into sulky disgruntlement, rather than outright rebellion. I will pay attention.”

“What about-”

“Keep your eyes shut.”

“Sorry.” I felt the soft tickle of the brush over my cheekbone. So, Yoshimoto’s plan appeared to be to watch and wait. His middle name might be ‘procrastination.’ And… on that note. “Did you actually intend to take me to the Shogun to look for Iekane?”

“I did not. My intention was to keep you from running away.” My eyes flew open again. “Eyes shut, Katsuko. While I understand your wish to pursue Iekane, there is no guarantee that he will be at court. Meanwhile, Yoshiaki is Nobunaga’s problem. The shogun wished to use the Uesugi-Takeda forces to weaken Nobunaga, and potentially ourselves. The best response to that would be to ignore the bait.”

Aki had said much the same. “But… I.” I opened my eyes again to see Yoshimoto looking at me sympathetically. “I want to do something.”

“And you have done something.” He indicated the brush, currently covered in a tinted liquid. “I understand your feelings. One doesn’t want to feel that one is unnecessary.”

That comment diverted me from my own self-involved musings. “Has anyone made you think that?” Yoshimoto always acted as if nothing bothered him, almost invited people to write him off, what with his near comical obsession with art and antiquities. And yet the same bitterness that came over Shingen when he was talking about his mortality seemed to come over Yoshimoto when it came to his purpose.

“I am a failure as a leader. And here I am living in a castle with the God of War, witness to great leadership on a daily basis.” He put the paintbrush down, took a step back and looked at me. “Not dark enough – I didn’t account for the shade of the bruise.” He picked up another color and repeated the mixing process. “In any case, I suppose if I cannot be fearsome, at least I can be decorative.”

“You’re more than that. When you’re needed to act, you do so. You did save Mai’s life. You helped when the river flooded.” I gestured to all artwork and antiques in his room. “And… this is an impressive collection. If art is your passion, well, then. Art endures… Not much else does.”

Yoshimoto was quiet aside from the soft clatter of the lacquer containers. Finally, he said, “he told you.”

I nodded. Well, I suppose technically, Sasuke had told me first, but Shingen had confirmed it.

“Was this-” He lightly touched my eye, “a response to the knowledge?”

“Of course not.” I watched him test a few more stripes of color on my wrist. “I get banged up all the time… anyway… it’s not like I’m the only one facing a loss. Acting as if I were would be pretty selfish.”

Yoshimoto regarded me steadily. “If you hold onto your pain, doesn’t it deprive others of the opportunity to share theirs?”

“Proving once again that you’re not merely decorative.” And since he only raised an eyebrow at that, I added. “Ok, yes, I’m worried, and sad, and scared.”

“So am I.” Yoshimoto began working on my face again, so I shut my eyes before he could ask me to.

“But I’m also scared I’m going to pre-mourn, and that’s not going to do anyone any good either.” Hence my turbulent emotions when I took my fear out on the innocent targets in the archery field.

“You have lost me,” he said.

I wasn’t entirely sure how to explain what I meant, although I had more than one example of pre-mourning in my past. I chose the one that was simpler to talk about. “Before I came here – I mean before the storm washed my brother and I up here, I had a cat. He was not a young cat even before he lived with me, and he was a gentle soul, quite content to stay inside and nap in the sun, and curl up next to me while I was reading. I had him about five years before he got sick. And the doctor said-.”

Yoshimoto had been listening intently, but he stopped me there – in an apparently typical familial way of not letting a storyteller tell their story uninterrupted. “You took your cat to a healer?”

“In my village, companion animals are prized and worshipped, so yes there are doctors for cats.” And even cafes for cats, but let’s not confuse the man. “The doctor said my cat was dying and would only be with me a couple more months. I was so upset about his pending death that I was no longer able to enjoy that he was alive. I would get up to check on him three or four times in the night. I used to talk all the time to the cat, asking him to get better. I may have made his last days more painful because of my sadness.”

“Possibly there is something to that,” Yoshimoto said. “But your cat knew that he was loved.”

Love doesn’t always make a difference. Love can’t keep anyone alive.

I took a second, and then a third look at Yoshimoto. His face was turned away from me, and he gazed out the window, beyond the walls of the castle. I knew that he was no longer talking about the cat. But I didn’t think he was talking about Shingen either. “Yoshimoto… was there someone once that-“

He cut me off. “It was a long time ago.” Then he shut the door on further confidences and held up a mirror. “What do you think?”

Well… it would probably fool the unobservant people.

Shingen was anything but that.

I didn’t have a chance to pick up teahouse pastries before I stopped by Shingen’s room a little while later, but I had talked one of the castle cooks (no huge effort, she adored him) into making him some sweet dumplings. So at least I was bringing him a fresh and hot dessert, which would hopefully distract him from noticing my eye. Or at least give him enough of a sugar rush to not say anything.

However, I had little hope of either of those things occurring.

Shingen was playing a game of Shogi, of all things, with Kenshin, of all people, but when he noticed me hovering at the door, he beckoned me in.

“And before you protest, you are not disturbing me, and while it was gratifying to know that I,” he quoted the note I’d left by the side of his bed the night before (to prove that I had indeed kept my promise to stop by), “’looked too peaceful to wake up,’ I would have been happy if you had anyway.”

Kenshin made one of those grumpy hmphs that actually meant he was in a good mood. “You might as well come in. He’s not likely to play any worse.”

Curious to see how the game was panning out (well, obviously there were other reasons, but I was also curious), I came in and knelt next to Shingen. Oof, yeah, he was losing. Well, he had said once that shogi wasn’t a favorite game of his, but given how smart he was, I was surprised that even as a non-fan of the game, he wasn’t doing well.

Both Kenshin and Shingen studied my face a long time – yup, they’d both noticed. Shingen didn’t say anything, but there was a tightening of the muscle on the underside of his jaw – I expected he was holding his tongue until Kenshin left. Kenshin returned his attention to the game.

I put the hot dumplings within Shingen’s reach, then settled back to watch the game-in-progress. A moment later, I jumped when Shingen’s fingers tickled the back of my neck. His fever must have gone way down because his hands were cold. “I take it you know how to play.”

I waited until Kenshin made his move, because I imagined he wouldn’t put up with conversation while he was thinking. He had Shingen’s king on the run, and if he promoted the rook, Shingen’s loss would be almost inevitable. Kenshin promoted the rook, dropping it behind enemy lines.

“I play,” was all I said. The literal game was more fun than being a figurative piece in whatever game Aki was playing, but either way, I played Shogi… better than Shingen, unless he was taking a ‘let the wookie win’ strategy with Kenshin (if so, probably not a bad idea).

Shingen’s hand hovered over his silver General, and if he moved it to where he was clearly considering moving it – well, it wasn’t the worst move he could make, but he was going to need to open his pawn line to let his King escape Kenshin’s rook. He must have sensed my tension on that move because he paused, then hovered over one of the pawns instead. He seemed to be waiting for something. I patted him on the back. He moved the pawn.

“Interesting.” Kenshin straightened up. He smiled, looking much as he looked when he was sparring. Oh. He really liked Shogi. Idly, I wondered what would happen if he and Mitsuhide were to play… they might be well matched. Although the most likely scenario would be that somewhere in middle game, Mitsuhide would say something snarky that would prompt the stabbing response from Kenshin, so it was a good thing that such a match was unlikely to occur.

Bloodstains would ruin a perfectly nice Shogi board.

The only possible response to Shingen’s pawn was to move the opposing pawn to greet it, so once Kenshin did that, it was Shingen’s move again. If it were me, I’d set up a trap move… ah, Shingen saw that possibility too, as he held his hand over his castle… and again, hesitated. I patted his back. Ok. Apparently, I was now the one playing Kenshin, although Shingen and I were the only people aware of that.

Unfortunately, the game still ended with our inevitable defeat. He’d been too far behind even before I got there. “I resign,” Shingen told Kenshin, when he reached the point where there were no more avenues of escape.

“Interesting that your game play improved immensely when she got here. It almost became a satisfying battle.” Kenshin began putting the pieces away in what looked like a custom fabric case – probably Mai’s work.

I gave Kenshin my blandest and most innocent smile. “I must have brought some luck with me.”

“Hmph.” He pinned me in the sharp gaze. “I will send a healer with some salve for your eye. Next time, we’ll cut out the intermediary and you will play me yourself.” He turned to give Shingen an equally sharp look, then took his leave of us.

“Guess he wasn’t fooled.” I wondered whether or not I would be able to defeat him if I played a game with him from the opening. Or… if I could beat Shingen, which based on this afternoon, might be the more achievable task. “And while I wouldn’t have thought Shogi was his game, I would have thought it yours.”

“Granted, I am generally better than I played this afternoon, but I’d rather strategize about real life scenarios than spend time memorizing shoji moves and counters. Although I find it incredibly attractive that you are good enough at the game to garner Kenshin’s praise,” he replied. He scooted himself further back on his futon and patted the spot next to him. “Now… just as Kenshin was not fooled by our shogi ploy, I am not fooled by whatever it you have done to try to hide that black eye. Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“It’s not as adventurous or daring as all that.” I wondered how much information I could get away with keeping back.

Again, he patted the spot next to him. “Then you shouldn’t be apprehensive about telling me the story of your… non-adventure.”

I wasn’t apprehensive. I plopped down into the suggested spot. Already there was a comforting familiarity in the way our bodies fit together, even when we were sitting side by side. No, I wasn’t apprehensive, but the knowledge that his definition of daring and my definition of daring didn’t overlap much suggested that conversation would be littered with minefields.

@bestbryn

[lynxalon]

Lynx!!! How about 3, 33, and 35 for the ask game? For any oc you please! Maybe even Lynx of Avalon!! :DD

oooooo !!!!!! as you wish hehe i'll do lynx of avalon and my beloved trio mage yen, lady blackthorn, and rhenium from the rites of mages <3

3. weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?

lynx of avalon: sword! they're a creature of familiarity and practicality, and they don't like to get rid of things that can still be used. even after making excalibur they still use their usual sword until they can't anymore, either it breaks or becomes a keepsake, a relic from an age they'll never be again.

mage yen: magic. their mastery over their ability gives them an edge of confidence that helps them in battles, and with the mystery of What their ability actually is, they almost always have the element of surprise and are underestimated.

lady blackthorn: battle axe!! she's a very strong figure, and tbh. she learned to wield a battle axe through sheer spite because someone told her she couldn't when she was young.

rhenium: gun, later a sabre. there's a reason here but i'm not telling <3

33. if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.

lynx of avalon: ohm. since lynx is m mc character i've gotta say. this is one for the covers 😂

mage yen: to lady blackthorn, yen is her oldest friend and lover; yen is compassionate and self assured, protective (to the point of cruelty sometimes), and every time they waver they come back stronger. yen is like a beach where the ocean freezes, like a moonless night, like laying in a field of flowers as the sun rises. to rhenium, yen has always been someone he respects, and they became very close. at first, he thinks yen is stubborn and scathing, quiet, cold, and cunning. later, they're seen as protective, caring, and wise. yen is like an uncut gem, the whirring of delicate gears, molten metal in a forge.

lady blackthorn: to yen, lady blackthorn is their heart, closest friend and lover. she is quick-witted, stubborn, strong, and intelligent. she's got a strong sense of justice and is very loyal. she's like howling autumn winds and wind chimes and the feeling of calm that washes over yen whenever they use their magic. to rhenium, lady blackthorn is a dear friend, his partner in battle. if they were a coin, she'd be his right side. when he first knew her, he thought she was clever, a brilliant leader and strategist, and had a silver tongue enough to give lord tungsten a run for his money. later on, when they truly became close, he came to see her as wise in her years, with a sharp mind. resilient, determined, and too self sacrificing. with him, she is angry and vengeful, she doesn't have to keep a cool head. he gives her space to explode, and he keeps her safe. he sees her as a well kept blade, as rolling lava and thunder.

rhenium: to yen, he is their close friend. through a trail by fire they came together, and yen has come to respect him. he is quiet, brooding, intelligent, private, caring, firm, and funny. he is passionate, much more than he lets on, and it was one of the first things that drew yen in. he is like a meteor shower and mountains and the roots of an old tree. to lady blackthorn, rhenium is close to her heart. when she knew of him, and the few times they spoke, she thought of him as creative but stifled, with a dry and sudden humor. then she thought of him as cruel, terrible, blindly faithful. later on, she saw him as highly empathetic, strong and vulnerable, but where she pushes forward he has doubts. he's very critical of everything, paranoid. but his strengths lie in his cautiousness and thoughtfulness. left uncheck, he struggles, but with help he flourishes as a powerful ally. he is understanding of harsh feelings and cruel thoughts, and when lady blackthorn is struggling she finds comfort in their related troubles. to her, rhenium is the golden hour of light, a caterpillars cocoon, a bonfire with music and dancing and laughter.

35. do they ever return home?

lynx of avalon: once, though they never tell anyone. centuries after they left, they visit. they know what they'll see. they run their hands along the old walls and mourn. when they leave they close off avalon from everything else. they think that it's the only selfish deed that's ever been worth it. to keep their home to themself, though they can never truly go back. so long as nothing is built in it's place, they pretend they can.

mage yen: home is all around them. they were born from the magic of the world, and only when they die will they be home again, but that will be when life stills and before worlds are made again. it will take along time. until then, they try to draw home as close as they dare.

lady blackthorn: home is in people, and so long as she is with them she's home. quietly, she misses her mother's kitchen.

rhenium: home is foreign to him. he's never had a home, and the only person who could be also could never really be his home. rhenium has always been moving around. he's not sure he'll ever be home.

PHEWWWW that got a bit long 😂 ty for asking beloved!!!!! these where VERY fun to answer :DDDD as you might can tell, i love yen, blackthorn, and rhenium! they are in m heart fr frrr <3

here is the oc ask game link XD

[americankimchi]

cunning, manipulative bastard protagonists who have zero qualms about inspiring, cajoling, persuading, threatening, or otherwise bamboozling others in order to achieve their goals my beloved

[theimitationgame-if]

Will you be able to solve a mystery you don’t even know the start of?

Setting: Operose, Massachusetts.

Genre(s): Mystery, Thriller, Drama, and Romance.

Warning(s): This story will be rated 18+ for depictions of violence, psychological games, manipulation, references to being drugged, profanity, sexual themes, dark themes, and mentions of death.

DEMO (TBA)

You don’t know how you got here.

You don’t know how the tattoo on your inner wrist came to be.

You don’t know anything besides your own name.

Your memories, your past, were all just a blur to you.

Waking up in the hospital, with your tattoo and hospital wristband, were the only clues to your identity. To who you used to be before the events that had taken your memories.

You wouldn’t find out until later that you weren’t the only one with memories unaccounted for.

Will you be able to find out what’s going on beneath the surface of the picturesque town of Operose, Massachusetts? Or will you be pulled under the waves of the supposedly better life the town offers you?

Play as an Amnesiac!MC that’s just trying to figure out what happened to them. Will you be able to do so? Or will you be stopped before you can try?

Customizable MC: name, gender, sexuality, appearance, and a smattering of other things that will crop up.

Try not to let your investigation become too well known— as you never know who you can trust in the grand scheme of things.

Romance 1 of 5 Romantic Options; from the Mayor of Operose to a Grumpy Detective.

Will you be able to find out what’s going on within Operose?

Or will you die trying?

Nathan/Natasha Walker [M/F] - The Mayor

36 [6’5” | Crystalline Green Eyes | Raven Black Hair]

The Mayor of Operose is quite an intimidating figure— with a charming smile, intelligent gaze, and silver tongue, no one could wonder why they had been elected into such a position. Do they know more than they appear to? Are they just a pawn in all of this too? Will you end up giving up more than you ever thought possible to figure it out?

Caspian/Cassidy Beckett [M/F] - The Detective

32 [5’11” | Sapphire Blue Eyes | Platinum Blonde Hair]

A Detective of the OPD that really doesn’t want to deal with your conspiracy theories. However, as more unexplained events begin happening within Operose, they can’t stand idly by and let things continue as they are. Even if you may have to get used to their pricklier exterior, you’re glad that you’re able to call them an ally. Will they become something more?

Harry/Harley Pierce [M/F] - The Doctor

34 [5’7” | Hazel Eyes | Onyx Black Hair]

The individual that helped you come to terms with where you were, what “happened” to you, and how things will progress from here on out. With a compassionate air, gentle smile, and docile disposition, they’re a person you could easily trust. Will you be able to convince them that things aren’t as they appear? That Operose isn’t what everyone thinks it is?

Ashton/Ashley Jolie [M/F] - The Partner

33 [6’2” | Blue-Gray Eyes | Dark Auburn Hair]

The partner you were assigned to whenever you had woken up— another amnesiac that’s grappling with the new world around them. Sarcasm and dry humor is their go to when dealing with everyone, but you’re able to see a softer side to them that you’re sure they don’t want anyone to ever see. Will you be able to figure out not only your past but theirs too? Find out the origin story of the tattoo you both shared? Will you end up falling in love as you do?

Shade [M/F] - The Shadow

30s [5’10” | Dark Brown Eyes | ???]

A figure you only see in darkened alleyways, poorly-lit parking garages, or just at the edge of your peripheral vision. Someone that seems to know that Operose isn’t what everyone thinks it is. You don’t know much about them— their name, what they look like beneath the cowl they wear, or anything truly substantial— all you do know is that they’re trying to help you the best that they can. Will you be able to grow closer to your own living shadow?