Now, As A Minori Simp, I Admit That I Also Kinda Ship MinoHaru. What I Mean By That Is That If They Actually

Now, as a Minori simp, I admit that I also kinda ship MinoHaru. What I mean by that is that if they actually get together canonically I would completely understand. Now, because of those two factors, I make up random scenarios in my mind of a love triangle involving me, Minori, and Haruka. well, not a love triangle but a love V shape instead becuz I love Minori but Haruka also probably loves Minori, but Haruka and me don’t like each other. Is that normal???

Edit: I’d like to add that you could say that I got beef with a fictional character because of my headdcanons

;R1999 - "this suitcase, livelier than it ever was"

Timekeeper Team x Reader 1.4k words fluff, comfort, found family Day or night. In the morning, in the evening, in the afternoon. Inside, where it's warm, or outside, where it's cold. Home is wherever your newfound, little family is.

this is something that started on the r1999 roleplay server, a little collaborative writing moment we had. I wanted to expand on it with this slightly new format because it makes me. so deranged to think about the domesticity of living in vertin's suitcase with everyone else, all of your friends <3

this is just the early morning version! but we also talked about the afternoon and night time hehehoho. shoutout to everyone who was there for the nuclear bombs that were dropped that day, we did it we survived!!!

It's early in the morning, and you smell the scent of warm food before the sun hits your eyes.

Despite the voices, you know who is in the kitchen just by smell alone; this is Bunny Bunny's special pancake recipe, the one she learned from her grandmother. Those are the two, maybe three pots of coffee being brewed at once for Horropedia, Bette, Kaalaa Baunaa and more. There are footsteps echoing all over the building, they come from above on the up and down, from left and right.

You don't feel the need to get dressed and be presentable before leaving your room, your pajamas work just as well. Right away, you see Blonney, her long, blonde hair tangled up in knots, ushering Jessica into one of the bathrooms, the cleanest one in this floor; they do this all the time, this is their routine. You know it'll be an hour or two before they finish, but if you're nice, they will let you join them. Jessica notices you right away and waves with an endearingly big smile across her face. She tells you that Blonney is going to groom her fur today, since they have a photoshoot for one of her projects.

Blonney follows her gaze, she gestures for you to "hurry and get your ass in here with them if you want her to do your hair" in a way that a stranger would perceive as hostile. But you're no stranger, you know of the hidden, sisterly affection in her words. And you also know better than to intrude whenever one of her movie projects is involved. The door shuts behind them after you politely decline. The last thing you hear is Jessica's muffled voice bidding you goodbye.

It's early in the morning, and your hair is a mess. There's another bathroom down the hall, but that's usually where the children of the suitcase go to see who is the fastest at brushing their teeth and washing their face--you'd rather not come out of there, wet and covered in toothpaste. Your other option is an even bigger gamble; there is a mirror in Pavia's room, but catching him in a good mood is the tricky part. For all you know, he's not even there, and he's one of the very few people who still lock their doors. Even so, he has no issue barging into your room unannounced every so often.

Regulus it is, then. You know she's awake because of the shrill sound of her music, a permanent vibration in the walls that all of her neighbors have grown used to. The smile on her face is big and welcoming once she opens the door to greet you, she says you look like shit and lends you her hair brush. Mr APPLe is not with her this time, but you know that he's the one making sure that Regulus wakes up in time for breakfast--a pirate needs to be quick to eat, he would say, and she would then repeat this to you.

You walk with Regulus towards the kitchen. You have to step over many of the forgotten toys scattered throughout the hallways. You nod in greeting to Zima, who always walks nearest to the wall, as if to avoid being in anyone's personal space. In his hands, he holds a small plate of pastries and a cup, his companion Zima--the bird-- pecks away at the small crumbs. It chirps at you and the two return to their room.

It's early in the morning, and you sit down with all the friends from all over the world that you've made ever since Vertin took you in. The Timekeeper herself sits across from your spot, discussing the puzzles in today's newspaper with Sonetto. A plate of pancakes is set down on the table, just for you, with the toppings that you love and the perfect amount that you usually eat. When you look up, you see Tooth Fairy smiling down at you; today, she's the one helping Bunny Bunny, tomorrow it will be someone else as the schedule pinned on the fridge indicates. Your turn won't come in a while, but you know that tonight you're in charge of doing the dishes with Leilani.

Something touches your leg, and you lean down to see the twins, Luisa and Louise, attempting to feed gummy bears to Pickles, who solemnly looks away each and every time the sweet candy nears his mouth. Eventually, he trots off and they chase after him, surprising and almost knocking Oliver out of his chair. Some laugh, some call out to the kids, some point out the sudden flushed look on the boy's face.

Regulus asks for seconds, and she fights with Centurion over the biggest, tastiest looking pancake in the batch; this is a contest Regulus knows she can't win, yet she tries anyway. The pancake ends on Centurion's plate before anyone can even understand how, luck always on the gambler's side--but she still goes out of her way to cut it in half and share with the pirate. When she catches your eye, she offers you some, she even suggests that you add hot sauce to enhance the flavor. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume she was joking, but she isn't.

You decline, and someone else takes your place. Shamane rests a hand on the back of your chair, leaning forward from behind you to reach out and take a small piece of hot sauce covered pancake from Centurion's plate. His voice is booming, happy and energetic, and it remains so even after the combination renders his taste buds useless. You quickly offer your own glass of water and he takes it gladly as another round of laughter begins around the table.

Now that Shamane has indulged in the shenanigans, the children follow suit; Kanjira stands on her chair, offering to try the food as well, but Matilda pulls her down by the arm, shaking her head in both disappointment and genuine concern. Erick is next, then Eagle. It's only when Bunny Bunny threatens to hold off dessert that the table calms down.

On your left, Druvis III sits quietly, enjoying the atmosphere. When you first met her, you assumed her to be the solitary type, preferring the comfort of her trees than a room full of people. But now you understand her a little better. She notices you glancing her way and asks if you slept well, falling into a pleasant conversation with you. She mentions an outing with Sotheby, a small excursion to the wilderness to search for ingredients; if you'd like, you're welcome to join them. This is a genuine sentiment, not an invitation that she extends out of politeness, having been raised among other nobles and aristocrats, an environment in which every little detail came with hidden, ulterior motives. You tell her that you will, if you have time--Spathodea has asked you to spot her while she trains, since Desert Flannel is too busy with her many, many jobs today.

Right! And after that, you might have a mission with Charlie and The Fool! And then, after that, you want to rest before Baby Blue's tea party. Druvis III listens attentively, praising you for having the energy to do so much in so little time. A small voice jumps in, Cristallo informs you that Baby Blue's tea party has been moved--it will happen in two days from now on, after an accident involving Diggers and his bubbles rendered greenhouse unusable, covered in foam and his special bubble solution.

Tooth Fairy gasps ever so gently, like she just remembered something small, like her keys on the table; but she comments on how her instructions, paired with Horropedia's ideas, might have pushed Diggers down the wrong path. Gossip runs fast, and everyone quickly wants to know what sort of shenanigans Tooth Fairy would even entertain in the first place.

There is much on your mind, so many things to notice and look forward to, that you don't notice Erick stealing a strawberry from your plate. When you look out the window, you see the silhouettes of your other friends in the fields or perched by the trees.

A pair of curious eyes land on you.

You look healthier, happier even--a strong contrast to the state you were in when she found you. Vertin smiles, she knows exactly how you feel. It's the same for her, after all.

WH-wHAT

The VOICE-

BONA FIDE ...!

NOTE ... does this make sense idk I'll edit when I'm alive again

CHARACTER(S) ... dikke

WARNINGS ... religious imagery, insecurity and self deprecation, fucking Shakespearecore English

EXTRA ... gn!reader, "dove" and "deare" used as terms of endearment

Your lover was bona fide.

Honourable Chancellor Dikke, the Supreme Chief of the Special Court; she was justice, kissed upon the soul by the blessings of Themis herself. She had an identity, and it was pure morality.

Who were you to love such a concept you lacked so fervently? What was your heart in the hands of something so grand? Unvirtuous amour had no value to the light of principle — that, you knew well.

So why was it that she embraced you in the eye of the Lord and his children? Why didn't she hide the sin of your shameful affections? Why did she lay with you, brush her lips against your skin, love your mortal existence without fearing His wrath?

"Fie!" Cried she upon your admission of unworthiness, voice akin to thunder. "Speak not of thyself in such terms. Hark, deare, to be humble is a virtue, but hatred of oneself bringeth naught but misfortune."

Even her holy words carried a purpose. The law accentuated every letter she pronounced with meaning, speech carrying the same power as her words.

And despite her passionate voice, which often reached far into the minor crevices of your body and filled you to the brim, her hands were gentle. The gentle hands of a loyal servant of the Lord, pulling the sinner out of its miserable life of aimlessness, giving it a purpose as the Lord had given her.

Still, the sinner, that is, you, found no purpose, no talent to gift to Him. Instead, you clung to the woman, the vessel of your saviour, and fed off of her love, her strength.

"I'm so sorry, Dikke," you lamented sorrowfully, grasping at the hem of her robes with your sinful hands. "I love you. I love you, and I don't know what to do, Dikke. I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this. Please forgive me."

She hadn't the faintest clue what you meant; after all, the two of you had been, say, courting for a long while. "Speak clearly. Thou discourseth in riddles."

You weeped pitifully at her feet. It was where you belonged, really. It was impossible to put into words, and thus, you didn't.

"Soft now, enough of this. Stand." Her bleeding sword's belly kissed the pike of your shoulder with a comforting weight.

Dikke wasn't a gentle woman. Any average human was soft. Sweet on their lover and doting on their father. But she was anything but average; she fancied you, wooed you with a stony gaze and a single rose. She never once minced her words to fit the shape of her love, filling it instead with chivalry and verity to cleanse your corrupt heart.

Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, said the Great Commandment, and it rang true in the ears of your beloved.

"I am not the Father; wherefore dost thou treatest me as an idol? By the Holy Lord's decree, I bear mortal sin just as thou dost." Her voice rang low, stony hand lowering like an angel from the heavens to greet your cheek. "Love be not a sin, sweet (#)."

Her words licked at your soul like a flame, momentarily engulfing your awareness of her rare physical affection. "From someone like me, even love can become a sin. My heart—"

"Thy heart corrupteth naught. I am not the Lord, nor an angel, and thou art not the devil. We stand as equal in His eye."

White enamel dug into the subtle rose of her lip as she lowered herself onto one knee, letting her pride melt to nothing, scorched by the embers of her love.

Justice itself kneeled before you — no, not justice, but your beloved.

For the first time, you met the steel eyes of your lover, and not those of justice. It was beautiful, lustrous, but most importantly... it was human.

"Stand, sweet (#), for thou shalt not abandon dignity, nor self respect, under the guise of humility." She offered you a hand, eyes growing soft.

A lovely rose dusted her cheeks like a summer breeze as she brought you to your feet, sword long abandoned at her own as she presented you with a single flower, stripped of thorns, and the very same as the one she had offered in order to court you.

Perhaps you didn't understand yet. Values? Morals? It was all maddeningly complex. But for now, you knew one thing for sure.

Your lover — your mortal lover — was bona fide.

taglist ;; @shadestar413 , @shsl-supreme-simp , @spleen-official

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