ssouhekii

[ssouhekii]

Your parents lowered your screen time? That sucks man TnT

☆ yeah, i really am bummed, but i'm making it work!!

[ssouhekii]

ʰᵒᵗᵉˡ ʰᵉˡˡˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ . ☆ • ° . ¤ ●

synopsis: after a terribly boring meeting you find yourself overwhelmed to the point of a breakdown. sigma is there to save you.

wc: 1.2k. comfort ☆ sigma & reader, can be read in any context

warnings: sensory overload, implied guilt over it. sigma does his best to act fast, good job sigma! 👍

You felt the intensity of thousands of waves of lightning rushing through your veins, energy bursting out of you with the speed of sound, yet all you could do was bounce your leg.

Tap, tap, tap, rapidly, as you tried your absolute hardest to focus on the meeting at hand. You felt agitated, and glanced around nervously. There was just something about this room that set you off, and mixed with everything else you felt, you could just explode.

Maybe it was the fact that the lights were too bright, or that the clock ticked too loud, or even that there was nothing in the room to focus on. A bland, beige wall molded into the tan carpet, and the brown wooden table with chairs all along its sides formed a sort of desert, and you felt your mind slipping from it, with only sand to hold onto. The droning of the people at the table about something you had no care for waned from your ears like the desert sun from the sky in winter as you tuned them out.

Of course, blocking all outside stimuli out, you were only able to think of how much energy you had, how stressed you felt having to stay still. Your isolation didn't last long, with the idle tick-tacking of the room's clock slowly fading back into your ears along with your vision. Or, more accurately, your visual processing.

Everyone was getting up while you looked around hazily, until someone's voice floated into your ears.

It took a couple tries for you to actually understand what was being said.

"Y/n?"

The feeling of a familiar hand on your shoulder pulled you off one foot and completely through the doorway back to reality again.

"Y/n, the meeting is over.."

You stopped bouncing your leg and turned around. Oh, it was Sigma.

The sight of your two-toned co-worker was a relief to you. In your distress, you'd almost forgotten he was there. Of course, you also hadn't noticed his shooting worried looks your way.

Sigma had grown quite close with you over shared work, and had begun to pick up on your habits. You'd told him about your getting overwhelmed and your bursts of energy, and he could tell that these things upset you quite a bit.

However, you'd never expected him to ever offer a helping hand.

You trailed after him out of the desert room, yet your mind stayed put. Eyes darting, you seemed to lose attention every time something new came into your sight.

Of course, leaving a room devoid of all life after a conference to enter a bustling hotel lobby was like traversing from one hell to the next.

Along with the voices of Sigma and other people you worked with, suddenly a cacophany of every other sound known to man entered your ears along with a million new bright lights and scenes.

You could hear the cries of children, the laughter of adult guests, the rolling of suitcases across the floor all around you, the dinging of the service bells, the music played on the speakers, the tapping of feet, the honks of cars, and so many other things. When you opened your eyes, you saw lights flashing into your eyes, everyone moving all around you, the fire in the fireplace, a bellhop dropping bags, the elevator door opening, everything.

And you didn't want to see everything, so you shut your eyes tight.

You hardly noticed your breathing become heavier as you gripped your arm tight and tried to ground yourself. You could feel tears stream down your cheeks, but your arms were frozen in place, unable to wipe them away.

Staying grounded didn't work at all, as you felt yourself being pulled from your space by an unknown hand. For some reason, though it terrified you, you simply let yourself be dragged.

Soon enough, cries and laughter faded out of your ears as you walked until all you could hear was muffled music and the occasional patter of footsteps.

You opened your eyes and wiped away the tears on your eyelashes with a shaky hand, staring up in front of you.

"Are you alright, y/n? What's going on, please talk to me."

It was Sigma, whos hands were pulled back against his chest, clearly wanting to reach out yet too nervous to do so.

You dug your nails into your arm and let out a small hiccup before glancing to both your sides. There was nobody else there in that hall, just you and Sigma. You remembered later on that you were right next to a vending machine. The casino manager sported a clearly worried look on his face.

"You can tell me anything, I promise. What's going on?"

His last sentence was firm, which sent a pang of guilt through you. He'd thought someone had done something, that something happened.

"I- How do I-" you gulped down unnecessary words as best you could. "It was all, you know it was just a little too much and I, it was too bright and I just couldn't handle it-"

Your voice trembled as you looked to your side, desperately sesrching for something to focus on that wasn't his eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, Sigma's eyes softened a little bit.

"Ah, I see. I'm sorry I dragged you out so quickly. I didn't, uh, know what to do."

It suddenly clicked in your brain that it was his hand that grabbed your arm in that moment.

"Oh, thank you.. it does help, it's, it's quieter, you know?"

He exhaled a little from relief that he hadn't made some heinous mistake.

"Yeah, it was really loud back there, huh?"

Your breath slowed and you finally looked back up to Sigma. You realized he was holding your clipboard and pen, too. He gently held them out to you, and you took them as best you could. The weight steadied your shaking palms slightly.

"Were you okay during the meeting? I noticed you didn't look well, but I didn't want to bother you..."

You gave him a faint smile.

"No, I just felt a little stressed. Thank you, though," you paused. "For everything."

"Is this like, what you were telling me about?"

"Yeah. Sorry you had to deal with it."

Sigma frowned, and you hiccuped before turning your eyes to the side again.

"I'm not mad at you, y/n. These things happen."

It took a moment for those words to run through your brain. You had gotten overwhelmed, and for the first time ever the person who dealt with it hadn't blamed you.

Not thinking, you launched yourself into Sigma, wrapping your arms around him. Slowly, he moved his hands up around you too.

"Woah, it's alright, I'm here for you.."

You pulled yourself back, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, wasn't thinking."

"It's okay. If it helps you feel better, you can hug me all you like, you know..."

You almost started crying again. He pulled you in gently, giving you time to back away if you wished. Alas, you stayed put and let Sigma hold you.

Before you knew it, you were breathing normally and tears had stopped falling. You backed up and smiled at him. "Sorry about all this, really, it jus-"

Sigma rapidly cut you off.

"It's not your fault, don't apologize. No worries at all."

"Are you sure? Like, really?"

"If it happens again, you can tell me."

"Thanks."

"You can tell me anything."

He turned away and took a step before extending a hand to you.

"I'm going to go eat, if you'd like to come with me."

You took his hand and followed.

"I'd like that."

a/n: I'm still surviving with the minimal screen time! i wrote this on the aforementioned 9-year-old tablet, so apologies for mistakes. As for the one (1) request I have, it's about halfway done! I ended up writing a lot more for fyodor than i thought.

[ssouhekii]

delta update ! * ☆ • ● ° .

hi guys! unfortunately i'm going to have to slow down my fic posting a little bit. you'll still get 1-2 a week, hopefully! my parents have lowered my screen time by so much that i have to start writing on pen and paper or my 9-year-old reading tablet again. so, publishing will be slightly lower. i'm still working on your requests, though! thanks-☆

[ssouhekii]

ᵈᵉˡᵗᵃ'ˢ ᵃⁱʳˡⁱⁿᵉ: ᶠⁱᶜ ʳᵉqᵘᵉˢᵗˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ! • ☆ ○ ° .

hi guys, my name is delta! my little writing account has done well, so i've opened requests! please note that a fic will take anywhere from a day to a week for me to write, but aside from that feel free to send in as many as you like.

ᵍᵘⁱᵈᵉˡⁱⁿᵉˢ

◇ i only write for bsd. however, i will write for any character from it.

�� characters i am most comfortable writing for:

sigma ☆

fyodor dostoevsky ☆

nikolai gogol ☆

tatsuhiko shibusawa

dazai osamu

ranpo edogawa

edgar allen poe

h.p. lovecraft

bram stoker

ivan goncharov

any other character, though they may not be written as well

◇ what i will write:

any character x reader, platonic or romantic (involving minors will be platonic only)

most character x character platonic or romantic, including rarepairs. (no adultxminor or familial relation shipping, please.)

general au's, such as fem!characters or child!reader, are more than welcome.

angst or fluff, maybe even both!!

comfort, which may have themes of mental health/past trauma if requested. see below

faves: anything w/ child!reader tbh, not in a weird way tho im just a little bit silly, souheki, fyolai, sigma friendships w anyone :)

^ will still gladly write anything else, incl other ships

◇ what i will not write:

smut or heavily suggestive scenes. i am a minor.

heavy gore or sickness. anything beyond blood, broken bones, and mentioned injuries is a no-no.

graphic suicidal ideations or actions. mentions are alright, but i'd prefer to keep it out of my writing

any sort of s/a content or mentions.

^ basically, any nsfw.

romance between sigma and reader. personal reasons.

discrimination enacted by characters or reader.

animal harm

hardcore yandere. the most i'll do is a liiittle kidnapping.

not sure whether your request is okay? send it in, if i'm uncomfortable i'll just delete the ask without saying anything.

◇ request from my series:

jellyfish and little black cat - closed (until chapter three is out!)

none!

thank you for all of the support i've gotten! i'm so excited to write for you! happy reading!!!

[ssouhekii]

ᵗʷⁱˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁻ ᶠʸᵒˡᵃⁱ ° . ☆ • ° . ☆ ● . ○

fix-it fic, angst-comfort.

☆ wc -1.3k

warnings: blood, mentions of death and grieving, implied bipolar disorder in nikolai, sad clown ouuugh

Nikolai returned to his apartment, empty.

Empty-armed. He refused to carry the last piece of his best friend home with him. It was too much. He didn't need yet another reminder of Fyodor, not now. He buried the arm in the rubble of the crash, hands shaking as tears wet the dented glass shards. Nikolai had cut his hands profusely on them, gloves being stained just like Fyodor's bandages.

Empty-minded. Nikolai could think of nothing else, other than the crash. The way the helicopter fell to the ground. The way it caught in flames. The way that, just like that moment, Nikolai wasn't able to think. No, he kept his eyes forward and his mind blank. He would rather have nothing than lose something.

Empty-hearted. Nikolai Gogol had been drained of his joy, his energy, his love. There was nothing left of him. Every feeling that Nikolai had, every passion, died along with Fyodor. Fyodor had told him that he was fighting to lose himself, and now he had.

Nikolai had lost himself, because the only time he was ever really him was with Fyodor.

In all that day's madness, Nikolai hadn't eaten. He drudged to his little kitchen, and opened the door to his pantry. He didn't want to eat anything there. He wanted Fyodor.

With all his excitement and anticipation, Nikolai hadn't slept. He dragged himself to his bed and lied down. He didn't want to sleep, though. He wanted Fyodor.

With no thoughts in his mind, Nikolai hadn't bandaged his hands up. Nikolai didn't get out of bed, though. To bandage his hand would be to make it look the same as Fyodor's. He didn't want to keep bleeding. He wanted Fyodor. He just wanted Fyodor.

Just the idea of bandaging his hand brought tears to Nikolai's eyes. A bandaged hand like his. Salty tears stung the wounds as Nikolai brought his hands up to his face. For the millionth time that day, Nikolai wiped the tears from his eyes and the snot from his face, choking out sobs over the only person he'd ever loved.

Loved.

He had loved Fyodor, and he'd never even said it.

If a thousand more knives could've fit themselves into Nikolai's heart, then they did at that moment.

Nikolai had spent all their time together peppering Fyodor with threats and musings without ever once telling him how he'd really felt.

Nikolai violently brought his fist to his face to wipe his tears again. The only person who'd ever been a home to him was gone. The only person who'd ever tried to understand him was dead. And the worst part was, that person would never, ever know how Nikolai felt.

Unbeknownst to himself, Nikolai had started muttering through his choked out sobs. In the dark of the night, with his tears glistening in the moonlight through his window, the only things that could be heard were sharp gasps and whispered apologies.

Apologies that Fyodor would never, ever be able to hear, that Nikolai would have to keep to himself until the end of time.

Or so Nikolai thought.

Disoriented, it took Nikolai a moment to register the sudden tilt in his bed from his visitor. It took him a moment to realize that he had heard his door open a few seconds before. Most of all, it took Nikolai a few seconds of labored breathing to untuck his head from his knees and look up.

Fedya.

"It's alright, Kolya."

In front of him, patched up and sitting on his bed, was Fyodor. Nikolai let out a hiccup before shoving his head back into his knees.

"This isn't real, you're not real! I know you're gone, and I'm sorry. Go away, go away!" Nikolai tried to shout, but each word came out as simply a little whimper.

Of course Nikolai had deluded himself into seeing Fyodor there. He was sure he was the only person who could ever have pushed themselves into an episode.

He felt the dip in the bed move closer, and a hand place itself on his back. The touch was gentle, and Nikolai sobbed again.

"I'm real, Kolya. I'm here."

Nikolai slowly moved his head up. In front of him sat his dearest friend, arm intact, smiling at him. The moon's beams bounced off of his friend's messy locks and caused a faint glimmer in his eyes. Nikolai quietly parted his lips.

"I watched you die."

The figure looked down at him, hunched over and wet with tears.

"No, Kolya, you watched me crash. I'm back now."

The figure rubbed circles on Nikolai's back as his face contorted and he realized that the person in front of him was really and truly there.

Ten minutes ago, Nikolai would've thought he'd be the happiest person on earth to see his best friend back.

Now, he kicked his blankets up into a pile as he moved back against the wall.

"How could you do this to me? How could you- I watched you, I-"

Nikolai tripped over his words, sniffling as he escalated into nearly shouting.

"I watched you die! You were- you were stabbed, and the helicopter- it- it crashed, and- I-"

Fyodor watched him with calm, gentle eyes.

"I was not crushed by the rubble. I had Ivan on standby. I'm here, and I'm fine, I promise."

"That's not the point, Fyodor! That's- I-" Nikolai grabbed his hair and pulled at it, yelling through his tears. "I thought you were dead, and I didn't know, and I- I thought you'd be fine but you werent, and, and now you are and I-" Nikolai let out another sob. For someone who so readily expressed himself, who wore his heart on his sleeve, articulating his thoughts proved to be difficult at this moment.

"You're fine, and I trusted you to be fine- and then you just- you weren't and suddenly I- I didn't have you anymore and I just.." Nikolai trailed off and shifted his gaze to Fyodor, whos lips formed a small "o."

"Nikolai, I'm," He looked away, almost in shame. "I'm sorry, Nikolai."

Nikolai furrowed his brow.

"You could've told me beforehand."

"It wouldn't work then, I had to make a getaway. I needed to avert their eyes, and-" Nikolai cut off Fyodor abruptly.

"You could have averted their eyes any other way! You could have blown something up, or lit a- a fire, or-" a small hiccup. "You could have just gotten in the helicopter with me and left! I would have gone with you!"

"I'm sorry to have upset you, Nikolai. I really, really am." Both of them stared at eachother in silence for a moment.

"I really missed you."

Fyodor's eyes widened, and Nikolai whipped forward.

"I love you, Fedya. I'm sorry I never told you, and- " Nikolai's tears came rushing back, and he wiped his eyes while speaking. "And I love you and I'm sorry I couldn't just be- be okay loving you and how I tried to kill you instead and it was my fault-"

Fyodor pulled Nikolai into his arms. The jester went limp, shocked.

"It's not your fault, Kolya. I love you, too. I always will, no matter what you say to me."

Nikolai grabbed a fistful of Fyodor's shirt.

"So you don't.. hate me? You don't want to kill me, like you said?"

Fyodor gently stroked his hand down Nikolai's locks.

"Never. I'm sorry for saying that, Kolya. I hope you know I didn't mean it."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

Nikolai's breathing slowed, another moment of silence between them.

"Please don't leave again."

"I'll be right by your side until the end of time, now. It's all over, and I'm here with you now."

Nikolai let out an exhale, gently complying as Fyodor lifted his chin up so their eyes met.

"Tomorrow, you and me, we relax, okay? We can make pirozkis, just like old times."

Nikolai smiled at him for the first time again.

"Thanks, Fedya. I'd like that."

a/n: they make me so unwell

[ssouhekii]

ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵗ - ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵗʷᵒ ☆ .° • . °

☆ ˢⁱᵍᵐᵃ & ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ!ᵒʳᵃᶜˡᵉ!ʸ/ⁿ - * ☆ . °

☆ wc - 3.3k

Sigma and his little guest eat dinner. The guest, now known as y/n, is introduced to the house. Who knew a home could be this big?

warnings: implied child neglect. y/n's only hobbies are staring and making awkward silences. sigma tries to be serious but sees the ●.● stare and fails

a/n: sigma: wow this kid probably hates me. why are they looking at me did i do something wrong? am i scaring them?

y/n: woww funny man hair swish swish

PART ONE > NEXT PART

You were pretty sure nobody needed their house to be this big.

Before you and Mister Sigma had arrived to the port, he had told you that he was taking you to his home, and that it was called the Sky Casino, and that he would make you some dinner once they got there.

You weren't all that sure what a casino was, but dinner sounded nice.

Your jaw had nearly dropped as the two of you made your way up to his home. To you, homes had always been the cozy little houses people in your small town lived in, or that small white hospital room they'd put you in when the visions started. "This is your home," they told you. "This is where we live."

For a while, "home" had even been a large hollow tree you'd lived in after the hospital flooded. That being said, to you, homes were always small.

You were sure you could fit a million tree trunks in Mister Sigma's home.

He'd led you up a few flights of stairs, and stopped in a large room that he told you was "his office."

Up until the point when he opened the door in the corner of his office behind the desk, you'd been in too much shock to register anything he was really saying. His words were drowned out by magnificent hanging lights with warm yellow glows, people shouting and swaying by each other, entranced by music and games. You could have lost yourself watching as dice rolled past on magnificent redwood tables stacked with delicious meals, glistening more than you'd ever seen. This environment being a place that one could live in, sleep in, even breathe in, day and night, mystified you. You were simply in awe at the man for having so, so much.

This was why, after being led to a small door in the corner of an office, far away from the music and lights and games, you were a bit confused when he finally told you "Welcome Home."

As far as you had seen, "Welcome Home" wasn't an invitation, it was a presentation. When anyone had told you "welcome home," they had been presenting you with their place of living. Perhaps even your place of living, too.

So, you didn't understand why, instead of presenting you with all that glamour and joy, Mister Sigma "welcome homed" you into a standard hallway, lined with pictures and a coat-rack, just like any ordinary home.

He led you through the off-white hall, exiting into a decently-sized living room with a brown leather couch facing to your left, a black coffee table in front of it, several bookshelves with a television in the middle of them, and a marble bar counter to your left.

"So, this is my, uh, home. The room you can stay in is right by the kitchen, I'll show you later..." Evidently, he seemed anxious, and you watched his two-toned hair sway behind him as he paced into his kitchen. You followed close behind.

"Are you hungry? I'll make some dinner."

You met his eyes as he turned to you, and you nodded.

"What would you like to eat?"

Frankly, you hadn't thought all that far. You were just hungry, since you hadn't eaten since earlier that morning when Mister Sigma's white-haired friend brought you some sort of granola square.

The card over his face had glistened as he told you it was birthday-cake flavored, and that you needed lots of protein to grow up big and strong. After a bite, you had set it down. It tasted disgusting.

Apparently, he'd disagreed with you, and began talking about how birthday cake was the best flavor. You'd watched as his blue eye darted from side to side, never seeming to be able to focus on one thing. After a few minutes of his random birthday cake facts, he'd ask if you were going to eat the rest. You shook your head, no, and watched him down the rest of the square in one bite.

Needless to say, you didn't know what you wanted to eat, you were just hungry.

You took a moment to ponder. You didn't really have a favorite dish or anything. In your town, in the hospital, in that room earlier that day, you just ate what you were given. Some of it you liked, some of it you didn't, but the option was the thing placed in front of you or nothing at all.

You'd always had a choice of what to eat in the forest, though. You spent many a day picking berries, catching fish, or just flat out eating leaves that you found. Sometimes you got sick, but you were always fine in the end.

Did Mister Sigma have any fish? You didn't feel like eating fish, but you didn't want the sweetness of the berries right now. You wondered what the word for that was.

"Well? Why don't you sit down and I'll tell you what I have in the fridge right now."

Mister Sigma's words pulled you out of your own head and you looked around the kitchen, then back at him.

"You can just sit over there," he said, motioning to a wooden table behind the bar-counter. It had three wooden chairs, and you made your way to one quickly. The chair was a little big, but you managed to hop up and take a seat at it. You met his eyes when you had taken your place, seeing he had opened the fridge in front of him.

"Well, I've got some fruit, baby carrots, leftover macaroni and cheese.."

Your options seemed limited. You kept staring at him as he waited for a response.

"It's your choice, I could really eat anything..."

He shifted on his feet and then looked back to the fridge.

"Macaroni it is, hope that's fine."

You gave your head a little nod, though he didn't see. You couldn't quite remember what macaroni was, but you remembered it tasted good.

You continued to watch his hair swish, swish, swish behind him as he moved around the counter. He tossed the mac and cheese into two bowls, grabbed some napkins and spoons, and carried the meal to the table. You swung your legs back and forth as he set it in front of you.

The bowl was warm, and you lost all focus on Mister Sigma as you took your spoon and immediately began to eat. The taste of warm cheese immediately filled your mouth, and you instantly perked up a little.

You ate quickly, until halfway into the bowl you looked up to see him watching you. His meal looked almost untouched.

"I take it you like my mac and cheese, yeah?"

You gazed into his eyes, your cheeks full of noodles. You nodded quickly.

"That's, uh, good. Don't eat too fast or you'll get a stomach ache..." he trailed off yet again.

Glaring at him, you continued to shovel macaroni into your mouth at lightning speed. When finished, you dropped your spoon into the bowl and pushed it towards him.

Mister Sigma, still having eaten less than you, lowered his spoon from his mouth. He glanced at the bowl then into your eyes, which continued to watch him with a piercing stare.

He swallowed, then glanced towards your empty bowl again.

"Nikolai told me you hadn't eaten today, but I didn't think you were this hungry..." He looked at his own bowl. "Would you like some more?"

You widened your eyes slightly at him. You weren't aware that you could have more than one serving of this heavenly ambrosia. Being offered seconds, no matter where you were, was alien to you.

Alas, you were full. You were sure the gods weeped as you denied their gifts.

Actually, you were just a little dismayed at how small your stomach was. So, with a heavy heart, you looked down and shook your head.

Mister Sigma sighed a little. "You're allowed to have more if you're still hungry. You're still growing, you know," he mumbled. There was no anger in his tone, and for a moment you felt the same discomfort he did.

You shook your head again, and he paused. "Alright," he whispered, and you watched as he continued eating.

After a few bouts of him glancing up nervously to meet your unending stare, you shifted your gaze to behind him.

On the wall behind Mister Sigma was a vibrant oil painting of The Fish Who's Name You Forgot. Backed by a vibrant ocean blue, the creature could have almost bobbed off of the canvas and into the room. The light from the painting reflected off its purple blob-body and created an almost rainbow off of its glistening white tentacles. Bubbles swirled around the creature and even through it, if the jelly-like consistency of its body was to be believed. Mister Sigma, apparently wishing to join in on your wonder, turned around to look at the painting.

"Do you like it? I saw it at a gallery I went to."

He turned back to you. You nodded, and drew your finger up slowly to point at him.

"Looks like you."

His eyes widened in confusion.

"You think the jellyfish..." Yes, jellyfish. You remembered the name now. "You think it looks like me?"

You squinted at him for a moment before returning to your usual empty stare. "Mhm. Your hair."

He almost looked to his stray strands of hair, but stopped himself.

Well, I can see why you'd think of it that way," he muttered. "I never really considered that. It's very interesting."

He grabbed your empty bowl, then his, and got up suddenly. You stayed sitting where you were. The chair was comfortable, after all.

Mister Sigma returned to the table after a few moments, empty handed.

"So... kiddo. I'd uh, I'd really like to know your name. Since, you know, you live with me now."

When you had first met him, you hadn't known this. Now, his reasoning for wanting to know that made a little more sense.

Also, with a full stomach, you felt a bit more friendly.

"Y/n," you whispered cautiously. "Zero, Three, Eight." You weren't sure if he had wanted to know your name from your town or your name from the hospital.

"Zero-three-eight?" He repeated after you in confusion.

You simply nodded.

"What does that mean?"

"It's my name at the doctor's."

His mouth let slip a little "oh," and he glanced to the side before sharply inhaling and looking back to you. His usual nervous look had turned into a serious, slightly stern expression.

"Well, y/n," he placed special emphasis on your name for some strange reason. "I think we need to set up some house rules."

You returned his stern gaze with a wide-eyed stare. You weren't quite sure why your eyes went wide at the thought of rules. If you had to guess, it was because you'd spent so long in the forest, doing whatever you want. You weren't sure why the silver haired man with the mustache had picked you up and carried you to a place where there were rules, but you weren't all that enthusiastic about it.

On the other hand, another thought occurred to you, which was that there were always rules, it was just that nobody had ever bothered to tell you them before. In your town, in the hospital, you had simply had to figure out what you'd done wrong while they were chastising you for it.

You hoped that this warning would be enough for you.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble, I just want to set up some boundaries," he continued in a gentler voice, perhaps after noticing your look. "Do you know what boundaries are, y/n?"

You only had a general idea, so you hesitated before nodding your head again slowly.

"Boundaries are when you tell someone what you are and aren't comfortable with so you can both be happy. Do you understand that?"

Again, only a nod.

"Alright," Mister Sigma stopped and looked away for a moment to think. "First of all, if something happens, you need to tell me, alright?"

You glanced to the side, then squinted at him, doing your best to convey that you needed further clarifying. "Somethings" happened a lot, in your opinion.

"By something happening, I mean if you get hurt, or you knock something over, or uh, " he paused. "You know, things like that."

You returned to your typical stare with a quiet "okay."

"Right. By the way, if you see anything shiny looking on the counters or dressers, be careful with them, alright?" He looked to his side again, then back to you. "And don't draw on anything except the paper I give you, okay? Especially not on the walls."

You didn't know how to draw. Oh well.

"And, uh, don't stay up too late. Try to be in bed by the time I am, alright? Hopefully that's not too late for someone your age..."

He trailed off, and had seemed to run out of ideas.

"That sound good?"

"Yeah."

You both sat in silence for a couple moments more before he hopped out of the chair.

"So, I guess I better show you your room, right..?"

You stood up to follow him down a hall in almost the corner of the living room. It was spacious and well lit, but almost felt empty for lack of decoration beyond hanging paintings.

He passed a door before turning to his left, his hair swaying the opposite direction before complying.

"This is the guest bedroom, you can stay here for now. Unless you like the other guest room better, though I haven't cleaned up since Nikolai last stayed.." This Nikolai seemed to be an interesting character to you. You weren't sure what type of person was allowed to make a mess in Mister Sigma's house.

He looked down to you, and smiled a little. "What do you think of Nikolai? He seemed to like you a lot."

You narrowed your eyes a little.

"Who's that?"

Mister Sigma almost seemed a little shocked. "You met him today, right? The one with white hair, in a braid."

Suddenly, the man with the card on his face came back to you. You let out a little "Ohh," before looking away.

That Nikolai definitely seemed like the type to be disorganized.

"Loud," you muttered, not sure how Mister Sigma would respond to hearing you say this. Instead of scolding you for saying rude things about other adults, he chuckled. "I'd say he is, isn't he?"

Mister Sigma turned away and motioned to a bed. He told you it was where you could sleep. It was larger than any bed you'd ever seen, a completely different world from the dry, tiny cots you had spent most of your slumber on. Then, he led you to a door beside the bed.

"Here's the restroom," he opened it, then closed it again. "Feel free to use any of the products in there."

He led you out through the bedroom door, and you made a note to yourself to explore the almost sparkling bathroom later. You hadn't even known a bathtub could be that big.

Down the hallway, he pointed out the other, less tidy guest bedroom, the other door to the bathroom, his office behind two glass doors, and finally his own bedroom.

"This is my room," he directed you. "Knock on the door if you need something."

Mister Sigma was firm about this, and even repeated it. How strange.

With that, your tour ended, and Mister Sigma began to walk back down the hall. You followed him, and he turned around.

"It's alright, we're finished. You can go off and explore, or get washed off if you'd like. I've got some work to do, so I'll be in my office."

You had to admit you were a little dissapointed at his leaving you. You had enjoyed watching his movements and picking up on his mannerisms. Mister Sigma moved quite smoothly, which was a comforting contrast to the janky and sudden movements of some people you'd met before.

As he paced away, you made your way back to the bathroom, hoping to figure out why anyone would need a tub that big.

☆ . ° • . ☆ * .°

Sigma closed the door to his office, and checking the outside to see that y/n was gone, let out a deep sigh. Halfway through trying to make up some house rules that weren't just reiterations of things he told Nikolai every time he visited, Sigma realized the reality of his situation.

He had absolutely no plan at all for this child.

While he'd been aware that he hadn't really been able to get any supplies, the full 18-wheeler only hit when he actually brought the kid into his home.

Sigma moved to his desk, and sat down while his computer booted up. He grabbed a notebook and clicked his pen open.He opened to a blank page, and for lack of a better title, wrote "Stuff for children" at the top.

Sigma crossed out "children" and wrote y/n, then held his pen over the name as if he were going to cross it out too.

Y/n hadn't really had as much energy as the children he'd met or even babysitted. However, they weren't necessarily shy either, and were even blunt at times.

He really didn't know what he needed to get for someone with no past and no belongings.

If anything, clothes would be a good start. Sigma also put down "shoes," as he didn't think a single pair of grippy socks would survive for long.

Before even turning to his computer, Sigma thought back to himself. When he'd first gotten out of the desert, he'd needed to do something like this for himself.

Back then, Sigma had felt a little lost. Now, he was almost grateful Dostoevsky left him to fend for himself.

Once he was in his flow, Sigma amassed a decent list of necessities for anyone who had appeared out of nowhere. Food, hair products, blankets, et cetera. Sigma had to admit that he may have indulged himself a bit by putting down hair products. Anyone who knew him knew he also loved things like that, as proved of the healthy quality of his hair.

The sound of the shower turning on snapped him back to reality. He told himself not to go that far, and that a six-year-old didn't care about things like that.

He left it on the list anyways.

Sigma, at a loss for what kinds of foods a child would eat, decided that he couldn't feed them the casino's food all the time. Maybe he ate it, but kids needed to grow.

Sigma leaned back in his chair. Maybe he needed to grow, too? Perhaps if he ate more than the casino's cooking, he'd grow taller than Dazai. Sigma shooed away that silly thought, because as far as he was concerned he was still a full-grown adult. He opened his browser and searched "what do kids eat."

The two-toned manager was almost blown away by how much information a single search gave him. Most of it was useless, marketing to him vitamin gummies and mineral water and special pressed juices that probably tasted atrocious. However, from his research, he gathered that he needed to buy more vegetables, chicken nuggets, juice, and candy.

Apparently, it was easier to handle children if you had candy.

Sigma, recalling his earlier trip to the fridge, realized that he only had vegetables and wine, which was technically juice. but not the type you'd give a six-year-old.

Sigma's heart dropped.

He and y/n would have to go to the supermarket tomorrow.

[ssouhekii]

ᵒⁿᵉ ᵐⁱˡˡⁱᵒⁿ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ . * ☆ ° • . ● ° ☆ •

ᵈᵃᶻᵃⁱ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ . • ° ☆ ° .

wc: 276 ☆ fluff

warnings: none!

As you opened the door to the agency, you practically had the fright of your life.

Before you had even stepped foot into the office, a mass of tan and brown came rushing at you. For a second, you thought you were being attacked by a skinny wild bear.

"Belladonna, I missed you!!!" Dazai's shout rang through your ears as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You relaxed into his hold and gently put two hands around his back.

"Osamu, it's only been a day...."

You pulled your head away to look into his eyes. Dazai gave you a melodramatic glare and pulled your head into his chest again.

"A day is simply too much! It was like waiting for a thousand- no, like, a million years just to have you back!"

You laughed a little. "Awh, was it really that boring without me..?"

Dazai released his grip and hold your shoulders, gently shaking you. "It wasn't just boring, y/n, it was torturous! Please, please, never leave me like that again!"

You smiled, giving him a playful little sigh. "Alright, I won't take that long on the next mission. But I think we should get to work now," You trailed off, glancing at Kunikida. He said nothing, but gave his partner a death stare.

"Oh fine... If only for you, my dear Belladonna!"

Dazai gently took your hand and kissed it before leading you to your desk, finally ready to start his day with you.

[ssouhekii]

wᵢₜₕ ₜₕₑₘ ° . * . ● ☆ • ° .

ᶠᵉᵐ!ᶠʸᵒᵈᵒʳ, ᶠᵉᵐ!ⁿⁱᵏᵒˡᵃⁱ, & ᶠᵉᵐ!��ʰⁱᵇᵘˢᵃʷᵃ ˣ ᵍⁿ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʰᶜˢ

warnings: none

a/n: I tried to find the most accurate feminine version of each name. i wasn't sure whether to turn nicole's surname into a feminine version or not, because of the debate about gogol being ukrainian or russian. i kept the surname the same, so sorry if it's inaccurate. not proofread!

Feodora Dostoevskaya

- Her chief love language is acts of service, though these acts could border on terrifying if you weren't the one recieving the favors.

- You'd never doubt that she loves you, though, because to commit a crime for someone is the ultimate act of love.

- You think.

- She'll take care of any major inconvenience for you without you even mentioning it to her.

- If someone had stolen your identity, she'd find them, steal their identity back, and take you on a shopping spree.

- She has eyes everywhere, so never try to hide something that's burdening you. She'll figure it out, and help you fix it anyways.

- Feodora has never known how to express herself truthfully all that well. She may not be able to write a searingly beautiful love poem to the one she loves most, or show them a boombox below their bedroom window and blast a song to declare her love, but she can do other things.

- Her other favorite thing to do for you is play music. Nothing makes dear Feodora happier than seeing you in her audience, big or small, for the cello.

- Aside from cello, she can also play the piano and the harp.

- Feodora mostly plays classical music. However, she'd maybe be convinced to learn a pop or rock song for you. Only for you, though.

- She's also a great listener. She'd love to hear anything you have to say, losing her analytical skills as she gets lost in your voice.

- The only thing that the genius "demon" of the Decay can't figure out is how to stop biting her nails.

- Luckily, you're there to help, buying her press ons or even very short acrylics to stop her biting.

- Unfortunately, rats have very strong teeth. She appreciates the effort, and does her best to stop, though.

Nicole Gogol

- Nicole's chief love language is gifts.

- Whenever she sees you, she'll bring you something. It may be small, just a rock she found or a deck of cards, or it may be huge.

- Like, she-snuck-a-car-into-her-overcoat-large.

- The types of gifts will depend on how you react to them.

- If you get easily freaked out, she'd love to bring you someone's eyeball from her escapades for halloween, or matching lockets with both of your hair for your birthday.

- You're still not sure how she got your hair, and she won't tell you. A magician never reveals her secrets.

- However, if you're not all that squeamish, she'll surprise you in other ways.

- Have you ever seen an albino cat? A two-headed snake? A three-eyed fish? Have you?

- She'll take strange things from any circuses or shows she's travelled with, either to give or just to show you.

- Of course, she wanted to give you all the two headed animals, but you said there wasn't enough space in the house.

- You may serve as the voice of reason in the relationship, but Nicole has smarts of her own.

- She loves to read philosophy books with you, and ramble about her own theories.

- Even if you don't understand, she's glad you listen.

- Nicole loves to put on little magic shows, just for you.

- You've seen every attemptible trick in the book, and you wouldn't hesitate to see any of them again.

- Nicole moves so smoothly when she performs her tricks, and performs them so delicately that you're reminded of how much she cherishes you.

- She wouldn't do any of this for anyone else.

- Occasionally you even get to play assistant to Nicole, watching doves flit away while her arm wraps around you and holds you tight.

- You're always in the audience for dangerous tricks, though. She doesn't think she could bear to see you hurt.

- By the way, Nicole is really strong. Really, really strong. When she works out in the mornings, you often serve as a weight for her push ups.

Tatsumi Shibusawa

- Tatsumi's chief love language just has to be words of affirmation.

- Though she'll shower you with gifts and pay unending attention to you. her favorite thing is to compliment you.

- You are, after all, more amazing than any jewel she's ever seen.

- She loves to show off and impress you. Tatsumi is very vain, so seeing your eyes on her in wonder puts her on top of the world.

- She often tailors clothes for you. She knows your measurements by heart, and many visits to her have been accompanied by a gasp of surprise at a whole outfit completely unprompted.

- Speaking of which, you can expect to wear lots of matching clothes now.

- Whenever you go out, you're often matching. If not a full outfit, you both at least have silver necklaces on.

- Though cold, Tatsumi is a very sentimental person. She will keep anything you give her, and even a paper heart will recieve the same care as one of her crystals.

[ssouhekii]

ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵗ - ☆ .° • . °

☆ ˢⁱᵍᵐᵃ & ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ!ᵒʳᵃᶜˡᵉ!ʸ/ⁿ - * ☆ . °

wc - 4.4k ☆

Sigma didn't go into this month's Decay meeting expecting for them to induct a new member. He really didn't expect this member to be a little kid. He really, really didn't expect this little kid to be staying with him.

warnings: implied/referenced child neglect & experimentation, nothing too serious though, yet, kind of uneventful because it's the first of a series, nobody will tell poor sigma y/n's name and there's lots of awkward pauses

a/n - I haven't written in a very long time, so sorry if it's a bit dry. i promise the next chapter will have more interesting interactions and dialogue. I only wanted the conversations to be stiff for this chapter so that you can feel the tension between sigma and the reader. also, i know the word oracle is used incorrectly. more on that later

The Decay of Angels sat around a white plastic table in white plastic chairs. Behind each of them lay a beige wall, and under their feet a tan carpet.

Fyodor had perhaps chosen the blandest room to ever exist for this meeting, and the worst part was he couldn't even complain.

Sigma had spent their last meeting at Nikolai's elegant Oakwood dining table, stepping over streamers and stray cards scattered everywhere. Each member had taken a seat in a wildly abstract chair, ranging from Fyodor in a bean-bag on wheels to Nikolai, in his dramatic red velvet throne at the center of the table. Sigma had taken his place at a plastic folding chair that he was sure had been taken from a wrestling gig.

So, he had felt a sick sort of relief walking into the most unsettlingly mild room known to man. He listened to a hung-over Fukuchi drone on about that month's objectives, their current business affairs, financing updates, and upcoming social events. Each member of the Decay stood and gave a rushed report of their activity for the previous month, Sigma noting his Casino's gains, Nikolai his undercover diplomatic efforts, and Fukuchi his outlook on the political environment. Bram had nothing to share, and closed his eyes once again in his coffin as Fyodor stood from his chair. He gave a calm glance around the room and closed his eyes, beginning his proposal.

"As you all know, news of a certain ability user affecting affairs with underground organizations have been circulating as of late."

Sigma cast a worried glance to Nikolai, who seemed invested in his dear friend's speech.

Sigma cast a worried glance to Nikolai, who seemed invested in his dear friend's speech.

"It has come to my attention that this ability user is completely unaffiliated with any organization, and is quite out of control. Thus, we must take control of them before another group has a chance to do so."

The casino's manager set his elbow on the table and looked at his fingernails. They were glazed white and slightly pointed.

Sigma hadn't quite expected Fyodor to initiate inducting another member to the Decay. He had a habit of coercing Fukuchi to let talented people slip out of their hands and into the palms of the Rats. Despite the losses, Sigma could never help but be relieved at the Decay's stable member count. Four was enough for him.

Fyodor continued.

"While we already have this ability user in our grasp, it may be difficult to keep them in our hand, so to speak. It is confirmed that the subject has difficulty controlling their ability. However, that should not be a problem for Fukuchi and I to address."

Fyodor opened his eyes slowly and flicked his lashes while glancing to his side, making eye contact with Fukuchi before looking away.

"The difficulty in inducting this.. person into the Decay lies in controlling their temperament."

Sigma's calmness and relief shook itself off immediately. For Fyodor to express trouble with controlling someone meant they were stubborn as a stone, or even a genius on the same level as him.

"A discussion between Fukuchi and I has taken place, and we believe the best course of action should be for a member of the Decay to welcome them into their home. This would be convenient for surveillance, as the subject cannot be left alone for long. It would also benefit training."

The casino manager became even more nervous. It was precisely with his luck they'd announce it was him who had to take in a new member with behavioral issues.

"The subject may also not live alone as they are not... of age to do so. The ability user in question, a child of six years, cannot be trusted to manage their own household properly."

A lump formed in his throat. Deep down, there was a part of him that almost begged to recieve this child. That begged for that almost ill-concieved notion of a family. He pushed that notion down in favor of disdain, and to any unassuming citizen he would almost look sick at the thought of taking in a kid with behavioral issues.

Fyodor continued.

"It is known that some members-" Nikolai came to mind, and Sigma noticed Bram glance to the clown too. "-cannot sustain an environment suitable for a child either."

Sigma was nearly sure this would be him.

"Given Fukuchi's alcoholism, Bram's lack of... appendages, and Nikolai's.. preferred environment, that leaves two options out of the Decay," Fyodor and everyone else eyed Sigma, and he felt like this attack was premeditated. "However, given my circumstances involving myself and those currently living with me, I cannot guarantee the safety of a young child in my household."

"So, you'd want me to take the child in?"

Fukuchi rose from his chair and stood beside Fyodor.

"If you'd be willing to take on this job, it'd benefit the organization greatly. We're willing to use the Decay's funds to pay for any living costs for the subject, including recreation. You are not obligated, but the subject's safety is of utmost importance towards our future plans."

Sigma was pretty sure that "recreation" just meant toys.

"Paying for living costs is no problem. With all due respect, the casino allocates for about three-fifths of the Decay's income, while also sustaining itself. However," Sigma paused, searching for his words. "However, I am in no way prepared to handle a child. I have no prior experience."

"Well, Sig, you can learn! You got a hold of the casino in no time!" Nikolai had broken his silence, no longer entranced with Fyodor's little speech. His encouraging words only set Sigma off.

"Yes, Nikolai, the casino is a whole other issue! I cannot be expected to manage an entire business while watching over a superpowered child with supposed behaviour issues! While I am fine covering financial management for the Decay Of Angels, I was never in any way propositioned to join for babysitting. I do want to stay professional here, but you can't just spring a job like this on me!"

Sigma finished his little rant. The entire table remained still, exactly the same as they had been before. Sigma wasn't even sure when said child would arrive, but he was sure he required some sort of notice before they even mentioned it to him.

He should have known Fyodor would see through him.

"No, Sigma, you were never "propositioned for babysitting" or anything of the like. However, we may very well compensate you-" Nikolai cut in. "Yeah, yeah! We'll raise your paycheck and find more people to cover the casino! We've already got ya covered, Sig!!"

"Thank you, Nikolai," Fukuchi grumbled, clearly holding back a sigh. "We will indeed compensate you and cover both your costs and time lost. As for experience, none is needed."

"Fukuchi, I can't be expected to raise a child with no guidance or skills pertaining to.. to children."

Fyodor made eye contact with Sigma, chilling him to the bone. The rat's sickening smile curled upwards.

"You haven't got to raise any child, Sigma. Just make sure the subject is alive long enough to complete training. Once that is finished, they will sustain themself."

It wasn't until later, much later, that Sigma had realized why the idea of training a living weapon for the Decay made him so, so ill.

"So you expect me to, what, keep a six year old under lock and key?"

"Sure, as long as that works for you."

Sigma, much more unnerved but slightly less opposed to the idea, decided he'd need to shoot more questions. One, in particular, ached in his mind.

"Why is this child so important? What plan is so dire to you that it involves keeping a specific ability user so close?"

Fukuchi leaned forward, and Nikolai whipped his head towards him. "Again, this ability looks to be a danger if not controlled, and an even bigger danger if controlled by a group other than us. As for our plans with her in the future, those remain private."

"Well, what's this dangerous ability, then, and why am I subject to deal with it?"

"As said, you are the only one with a household safe enough to keep a child alive and healthy. As for the ability.." Fyodor narrowed his eyes as Fukuchi finished talking, taking this as his turn to convince Sigma.

"The subject's ability is called, quite simply, Oracles. It can be supposed that she is able to see any place and hear any word without actually being in the area. However, this ability may only view what is going on at the exact moment. In addition, it has been confirmed that the subject cannot control nor will a vision at any given moment, making them completely unprompted."

Sigma cut in as soon as Fyodor paused.

"So how is that dangerous?"

"You know very well how, Sigma."

He had only asked the question to stall a little further. This conversation, the way these people spoke about this child, made him sick. He didn't want to answer their question.

Nikolai tapped his feet, while Fukuchi and Fyodor eyed him cautiously. Bram was asleep. Quietly, Sigma uttered the only question he could think of.

"What will happen to her if I refuse?"

Fyodor's smile faded slightly, but there was no malice in his eyes. Fukuchi's gaze narrowed and Nikolai frowned.

"Sig, don't do that. We kinda need you to do this!"

"It's alright, Nikolai," Fyodor hummed. "I can keep the ability user myself. Though, Ivan hasn't reacted well to their arrival, I'm sure he can adjust. He may not trust their ability now, but he'll warm up as they.." Fyodor was tuned out as Sigma recalled what he knew about Ivan. The tall, unsettling man whom Fyodor had done brain surgery on, making him into some sort of passive servant. Sigma almost shuddered. The thin man had been almost violently obsessed with Fyodor, though not in the way Nikolai was. In fact, Ivan had outright threatened Nikolai more than once for even grazing against his beloved master.

Sigma was sure he understood now why Fyodor hadn't wanted to keep a child near someone like that.

Damn Sigma for being so mild.

He decided to use his last resort before declining the offer. The child would simply have to deal with Ivan's distrust.

"Would it be alright if I could... meet this girl first before allowing her into my home?"

Though Sigma had completely cut in, the room remained unresponsive for a passing moment before Nikolai jumped up onto Sigma and let out some sort of high-pitched squeal. "AHH! I KNEW you'd give her a chance! Thanks for doing us such a favor! I'll go grab her right now!!"

Nikolai disappeared before he could even hear Sigma mutter something about not having said yes.

☆ . ° • . ☆ * .°

The strange tall man with a white braid and striped pants unlocked the door to the room and strutted in, humming a tune. He, not even looking at you, grabbed your wrist tightly and began to drag you somewhere yet again. You'd been in that little beige room for almost twenty minutes now, but it'd felt like you had barely sat down.

"Time to go, kiddo!" He chirped as he almost lifted you out of your metal folding chair with a single tug to your wrist. You had tried not to budge, but the man proved to have incredible strength. So, you walked out with him, struggling against his grasp even though it was futile. In fact, he ignored your muttering and wriggling, continuing to almost skip down the hall.

At last you two arrived at a door, and the strange man squatted down to meet your eyes. You thought he was unsuccessful, as the card covering his own left eye prevented him from looking into both of yours at once. He compensated for this by quickly darting his right eye back and forth.

"You're gonna go meet the man who's gonna take care of you, okay? Yeah? Make sure to be re-e-eal nice, alright? Let's put on a big smile, okay?!"

You continued to stare blankly ahead as the excitable man pushed open the doors and again dragged you into the room. There were more tall men, and your blank stare dropped into a scowl.

While being pulled forwards, you stopped struggling in favor of analyzing the odd characters before you.

Your eyes were first drawn to the pale, grey-haired man, asleep to your far right in a large wooden box. It was lined with some sort of soft-looking red texture, which you were sure you could've fallen asleep in too. However, what caught your attention the most was the man's striking lack of appendages and a sword where his stomach should be. You were sure it must've hurt a lot, and were glad he was getting rest.

You still scowled as you looked to the left of the sleeping man, you spotted two other figures you'd seen before. The grey-haired man in the red coat and the eery black-haired man. The grey-haired man annoyed you. When he had first caught you, scampering around in a forest near the abandoned cottage you had made into your home, he had picked you up and slung you over his shoulder like a sort of package. You had been incredibly frustrated and screamed until your voice gave out, pounding your fists against his back. He hadn't ever responded, and only spoke in short commands like "Stop" and "quiet." Worst of all, his breath smelled sour and dry, like those fermented drinks that the adults always had on rough nights.

You disliked the black-haired man too, but for different reasons. Where his grey friend paid almost no attention to you at all, you could always feel the dark man's eyes on you. He spoke in a saccharine tone and called you things like mishka and little one. His gaze almost felt full of contempt, and he kept physical distance from you like you were some sort of beast.

Looking around, you didn't see the black-haired man's other friend, the one with the bandages around his head. You were glad, because you didn't like him. He had said if you spied on his master he'd throw you out, and then spied on you himself the whole night.

Finally, right in front of you, was a man with choppy hair in half-purple and half-white. The inside of his coat sparkled like the sky when it was dark, which caught your attention. Being speedily pulled towards him by the man with the striped pants, you noticed the half-and-half's gaze on you.

You weren't surprised at his stare, as that tended to be a common reaction to your appearance. You weren't sure why. Maybe it was because your hair hung in your face like vines on the fence of an overgrown house, abandoned for years with no care. Maybe it was because your nearly-empty eyes had deep bags under them from all the times you'd lost sleep after seeing a vision. Maybe it was because you had only ever wore a musty hospital gown, if only for lack of better clothing options. Or maybe, maybe it was just because everyone thought your visions were the most important thing about you, and that you were some mystical oracle that knew their fate.

You gazed up at Mister-two-tone, not noticing his friend mouth "introduce yourself" to him before he knelt down and looked into your eyes, and glanced to the floor briefly before slowly offering his hand to you.

"My name is Mister Sigma. What's your name..?"

His voice was deep and serious, but gentle. You looked at this strange Mister Sigma's hand. You weren't sure what he wanted you to do with it, so you ignored it and kept staring into his eyes. Silence overwhelmed the room. Over a minute passed without your response, and Mister Sigma retracted his hand while you continued to stare him down.

It wasn't that you were shy, or that you'd forgotten your own name, or even that you didn't ever have one. You had been little y/n in your town until the people in white coats took you away and started calling you Subject Oh Thirty Eight, or Zero Three Eight, or even just Thirty-Eight. Then, the sterile white building had been flooded and you had run into a nearby forest, and suddenly you hadn't got any name at all. Or maybe you had, but it didn't really matter that much.

You were drawn out of your thoughts by that Mister Sigma interjecting again.

"So, I uh.. What's your favorite animal, kiddo?"

You had often enjoyed the company of feral cats in your town, and had seen some strange, fat striped-tail ones in the woods you occupied. However, you didn't understand why he would need to know, so you kept silent.

After about fifteen seconds of still staring into his eyes (you counted yourself), you were brought back into focus by his voice breaking the room's silence a third time.

"Is it true that you can see anything, anywhere?"

Oh, you knew the answer to this! Everyone who met you had asked. You noticed the eery black-haired man behind Mister Sigma narrow his eyes at you.

"I can't see the visions you want at will. I'm sorry."

Your voice was scratchy, both from the screaming you'd done the day earlier when the grey-haired man caught you and the fact that you barely talked anyways. This response, however, was easy to say after dozens of live practice sessions.

The two-toned Mister Sigma's eyes softened and he glanced to the side with an almost nervous look before looking back at you and smiling.

"That's alright, I don't need anything. I just wanted to know."

You continued to stare at him as he stood up and motioned his colleagues to come near. Card-face dropped your arm and sped over to the two-toned man along with everyone else, and they huddled around you in a whisper.

You stood silently and continued to stare.

☆ . ° • . ☆ * .°

It was at that moment Sigma swore he wouldn't get attached.

Hearing the first words from a glassy-eyed child be "I'm sorry" formed a new feeling of contempt for the world around him. He almost felt angry, hearing someone so young apologize for being unable to be of use.

Damn Fyodor for picking a child he saw so much of himself in.

Though the little child had seemed a little cold and almost feral, they seemed considerably easier to handle than what Sigma had expected. He'd almost expected a younger Nikolai. However, he wasn't relieved to find that their preferred form of conversation was a cold glare.

"So, Sig? Whaddya think, whaddya think? Don't keep us waiting any longer!!"

Sigma felt his colleagues' eyes on him. He glanced at his feet, then at the child (who made eye contact with him through their messy, overgrown locks. Sigma almost shivered.) then finally moved his eyes across his coworkers.

"I will take in the child," Fyodor and Fukuchi smiled while Nikolai nearly burst into joyful laughter. "Provided that the Decay covers all costs, time lost on the casino, and training efforts. This is my only offer."

"Ah, Sig, we knew you'd take her! Great, great!!" Nikolai sprang onto Sigma and hugged him, while Fyodor clapped politely. Fukuchi gave an almost half-hearted bow, clearly tired from this indecision.

"Thank you for doing this, Sigma. Route me your receipts every month and you'll be compensated. I'll have any documents needed for a front mailed to you soon."

Fukuchi took his leave soon after. Bram was carried out with him. Sigma pushed Nikolai off of him and looked to Fyodor.

"I'm glad I could convince you. Good evening, Sigma." Fyodor also left quickly, clearly wanting out before Sigma changed his mind.

Sigma turned to Nikolai, who had made his way to the little child and was shaking their hand furiously. They squirmed and grumbled.

"Bye bye, kiddo!! Have fun with Sig, okay? I'll drop by soon!"

He leaped up and trotted to Sigma, grasping his hands and staring into his face almost excitedly.

"Hey, Sig, good luck!! Congrats on your first kid!" Nikolai skipped out like some sort of madman, leaving Sigma and the child alone, watching each other.

He couldn't believe what he'd just agreed to.

☆ . ° • . ☆ * .°

As the strange white-haired man finally left, you were left alone in front of the table with Mister Sigma. He turned and stared at you. You kept watching him as you had. The way his hair moved was interesting to you. Every time he turned his head, it made a swishing motion. It was like some sort of fish you'd seen in the aquarium a long, long time ago. You couldn't remember its name.

"Well, it's getting late. I guess we'd, uh, better get going, yeah?" He asked, seeming slightly unsure of himself. He stepped towards you, and you instinctively stepped back.

He held out a hand to you slowly. You weren't quite sure what to make of it. Did he want you to take it? You weren't sure whether he knew that he could just take your hand himself, but you didn't tell him that. You'd had enough manhandling for two days.

He retracted his hand and let out a slight huff, glancing toward you before turning away towards the door.

"Come on, let's go home."

Mister Sigma walked towards the door, and you passively followed behind him. Leading you down the hallway, the only sound he made was the soft clack, clack, clack of his shoes on the floor. The two of you twisted and turned down the halls past several bland brown doors before exiting the building through a set of large glass sliders.

The twilight glistened, though not as beautifully as the inner liming of his coat that swayed along with his hair as he walked. The man pulled out a ring decorated by a large plastic button and a few metal keys. He clicked the button and one of the cars in the lot lit up and let out a quick honk. He turned to his car, a small white Toyota with sleek lights on the front and the back. Its interior consisted of grey leather seats, and a pair of red plush dice hanging from the mirror.

You followed him to the left side of the car, and he opened the front door before looking at you in confusion.

"You can sit on the other side, unless you'd like to sit in the back. This is the driver's seat, though, and I have to sit here."

He spoke cautiously for some reason, stepping over each word as if simply telling you to go sit on the other side was a mortal offense. It wasn't that important to you, but you did appreciate the explanation. You hadn't been told why you had to do something in a very long time, so it was a breath of fresh air.

You paced to the other side of the car, and mimicking how he did it, took the door handle in one hand and pulled it. The door barely budged, and you pulled again. On your third try, you set both palms on the handle and heaved it open.

You stepped into the car proudly, and sat down.

"Could you close the door, please?" Mister Sigma interjected, interrupting your sense of accomplishment. You pulled the door shut with both hands and glared at him. His eyebrows raised slightly, and he squinted a little at you.

"Are you okay?"

"Mhm."

Your mild frustration was dissolving quickly, and you relaxed your gaze. He looked down beside you and raised his pointer finger.

"Could you, uh, buckle your seatbelt?"

You weren't quite sure what that meant. You'd seen cars before, but any memory of being in one was hazy. Lightly tilting your head, you opened your mouth a bit.

"Do you need help?"

You shifted in your seat and nodded. He slowly reached over, watching you all the while, and dragged a large grey belt out of the seat and reached over you, placing it into a button on your other side. It made a little click, and he retracted his hands.

"Now we're ready to go."

Mister Sigma set his keys down beside him and started the car. It made a hum as he pulled out of the parking spot. You watched him closely, paying special attention to how his hair moved as he looked around. You could only see the white side right now, but it didn't matter that much to you.

You continued to watch him, his reactions, his movements as he drove. Whenever another car got in front of him, he seemed to purse his lips. Whenever the big light on the road turned red before he passed it, he'd let out a little sigh before relaxing his grip on the wheel. Whenever he stopped, he nervously glanced to the side. As soon as he met your eyes, he turned away, his hair swishing after him.

About halfway through your little drive and almost a dozen awkward glances, he parted his lips while looking forward towards the road.

"Why are you watching me so closely? Do you need something?"

You continued to watch him.

"No."

"Alright.. if you do, please let me know."

"I don't need anything, thank you."

He kept driving and looking ahead. You kept watching him, and at the next stop he turned to you and met your eyes in an uneasy gaze.

"I'm sorry, it's just... it's a little unsettling to have you watching my every move and I..." he trailed off.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop."

"It's alright, you're not in trouble, it's just that.. I'm just a little confused about why you're watching me so much. We've passed plenty of interesting things on the road, but you haven't taken your eyes off me since we started driving." He looked intently at you.

"Your hair."

"What about my hair? Is it the color?" He seemed to grow a little more nervous.

"It moves. It goes swish, swish when you move."

"Yes, I suppose it does..."

"Are there many people with long hair where you're from?" He seemed to pause at the end, searching for what to call you. The space in his words was filled with another long glance. The car continued moving.

"There aren't many people at all."

"Oh, I see."

The long drive continued in silence.