#ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ * main

[uns4lted]

↬ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ, ꜱᴛᴏʟᴇɴ ɢʟᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ.

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ: ʀᴇᴏ ᴍɪᴋᴀɢᴇ (ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ) ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ʀᴇᴏ ᴍɪᴋᴀɢᴇ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴀɢɪ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ʜɪɢʜ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ!ᴀᴜ, ꜱʟɪᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟɪꜰᴇ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ, ʀᴏᴍᴄᴏᴍ, ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ, ꜱʟᴏᴡʙᴜʀɴ ᴛᴀɢꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: - ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴀɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ - ꜱʟᴏᴡʙᴜʀɴ (ᴀɢᴀɪɴ) - ʀɪᴅɪᴄᴜʟᴏᴜꜱ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʙʀɪᴇꜰ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ-ʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ (ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ɪᴛᴇᴍꜱ ʀᴇᴏ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ) - ᴍᴏꜱᴛʟʏ ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ - ʀᴇᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴀɢɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴇʀᴇ - ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴄʟɪꜰꜰʜᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴡ/ ᴀ ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ!

a/n: credits to @/chachachannah for the divider! also, here's my reference to keep you guided from the story! <33

word count: 4k+

You woke up to the sound of your alarm clock blaring at full volume, jolting you from the last shred of sleep you were trying to hold onto. With a groan, you slammed your hand down on the loud thing, desperately wishing for five more minutes—until the realization hit you like a truck.

Late. For the third time.

"Ugh, not again!" you moaned, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. There was no getting out of it now, so you stretched your arms above your head with a yawn, trying to shake off the sleepiness still clinging to your bones. You grabbed your alarm clock, and your eyes went wide—7:56 AM.

“Oh, come on!” you yelped, tossing the clock back onto your nightstand. With your class starting at 8:30 AM, and knowing how your track record was with morning rushes, you were in trouble. A third tardy meant community service, and you were so not looking forward to that.

You scrambled out of bed, taking a quick shower, threw on your school uniform, grabbing socks you could find and barely caring if they matched—then ran through your usual morning routine like you were on fast forward. A quick glance at the clock told you it was already 8:12 AM as you dashed out the door, backpack slung over one shoulder, a half-buttered slice of toast hanging from your mouth like some sort of bad cliché.

By the time you made it to school, your lungs were burning, and you half-jogged, half-limped down the hall to your class. You practically threw yourself into your seat, heart hammering in your chest, only to hear the dreaded words that made your stomach sink.

“You're late again. Ms. (L/N),” your teacher announced, staring at you over the rim of her glasses.

You let out a defeated sigh, sinking deeper into your chair. There was no point arguing. With a heavy heart, you accepted the inevitable. Five minutes later, a bucket and mop were shoved into your hands, and you were sent to clean the basketball court, which looked as massive as it felt unfair.

The gym was buzzing with noise, and you immediately noticed a group of guys playing basketball at the far end. Thankfully, they were mostly sticking to the main court, so you shuffled to the sidelines, hoping to stay out of the way. Grumbling under your breath, you dipped the mop into the soapy water, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.

Lost in the monotonous rhythm, you almost forgot you were surrounded by other students. That is, until something, or rather, someone—caught your attention.

You looked up, pausing mid-scrub, your eyes widening at the sight of a boy with lavender-colored hair tied back into a small, messy bun. A few loose strands framed his face, swaying as he moved with ease across the court. He was laughing with his friends, clearly enjoying the game, and for a moment, you were completely starstruck.

He was… handsome. No, stunning. Actually, more like gorgeous in that “doesn’t even try” kind of way. The sight of him had you frozen, mop still in hand, staring like a deer caught in headlights. It was only when something hard smacked against your forehead that you snapped back to reality.

"Oof!" You yelped, stumbling backward and landing square on your butt. Your mop clattered to the floor, and you clutched your forehead in shock, rubbing the sore spot where the ball had hit you.

A shadow fell over you, and you looked up—right into those same lavender eyes. The boy was standing over you, a look of concern creasing his features as he crouched down to your level.

“Oh no, are you okay?” he asked, his voice a mix of worry and relief. Your heart did a weird little flip in your chest, and you could only manage to stutter a response.

“Y-y-yeah, I’m… I’m fine!” you blurted, flushing a shade of pink that was, frankly, so embarrassing. He gave you a quick once-over, clearly skeptical, before his expression softened into a smile that made your insides go warm and fuzzy.

“Alright,” he said, “but you might want to avoid cleaning while there are people playing. Wouldn’t want to get hit again, yes?” He chuckled, offering you his hand. You took it. Mind absolutely blank and he helped you to your feet like it was no big deal.

"Thanks," you managed, still rubbing your sore head. He raised an eyebrow.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yes, yes!" you insisted, probably a little too loudly. "Thank you… for, um, helping." You had never been so aware of your own voice cracking.

He nodded and gave a lighthearted laugh, shaking his head, then jogged back to his friends who were already teasing him for playing like a “hero”. You watched him go, feeling like a complete idiot for forgetting how words worked.

Your mop was dripping onto your shoes by the time you remembered what you were supposed to be doing. With a sigh, you picked it up, threw a last glance over your shoulder at the boy with the lavender hair, and dragged yourself out of the gym.

As soon as you were out of sight, you burst into giggles, replaying the moment over and over in your head. It was only then that you smacked your forehead with your palm.

“How could I forget to ask his name?” you muttered to yourself, feeling both giddy and frustrated. You just hoped, hoped, you’d see him again. It was a big school, sure, but fate had to be on your side.

With that thought, you headed to the storage closet to return the cleaning supplies, barely noticing the goofy grin that refused to leave your face.

You made your way back to your locker, still buzzing from the unexpected (and embarrassing) encounter in the gym. The dull clang of locker doors and the chatter of students filled the hallway as you spun the combination on your lock, half-distracted by your own thoughts. You couldn’t get that lavender-haired boy out of your mind, the way he’d smiled and laughed after the incident that happened earlier.

With a quiet hum, you opened the locker, grabbing the textbooks you’d need for the rest of the day. You were just about to shut it when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him—the lavender-haired guy. He was coming down the hall, heading straight for the lockers like you weren’t even there.

Your heart skipped a beat, and in a panic, you ducked behind your locker door, holding your breath like he might somehow hear your rapid heartbeat from a distance. Peeking through the narrow gap between the door and its hinge, you watched him walk closer, your curiosity getting the better of you. He was focused on his own locker, not sparing a glance in your direction. You could feel your face heating up, but you couldn't look away—he was even more handsome up close, and the way the sunlight from the hallway windows caught the loose strands of his hair made him look… almost unreal.

You bit your lip to stifle a smile, hiding your face behind the door as you stole a few more glances. God, he is so handsome, you thought with a quiet huff, shaking your head at yourself. He rummaged around his locker for a few moments, grabbed a few things, then slammed it shut and turned to leave. You let out the breath you were holding, watching him go, when suddenly, you noticed something fall from the stack of books he was carrying - a small, thin card fluttered to the floor.

Before you even thought about it, you were moving. You stepped out of hiding, heart thumping in your chest, and picked it up. It was some sort of ID card. When you turned it over, your eyes widened, and you almost squealed right there in the hallway.

Reo Mikage.

His name is Reo, you slightly gasped, barely able to contain your excitement. Your face split into a grin, and you quickly slipped the ID into the pocket of your skirt, your fingers tingling with glee. You didn’t even care if this technically counted as snooping—you finally had a name to put to the face, and for some reason, that made everything feel a little more real.

With your new discovery tucked away like a secret treasure, you closed your locker and hurried off to class, making it just in time. You slid into your seat at the back of the room, right next to the window, and exhaled a sigh of relief. The teacher was already droning on about something boring and unrelated to your current fascination, but you barely paid attention. Your mind was spinning with possibilities.

I can’t believe I know his name now! Reo Mikage… The words rolled around in your mind like a song you couldn’t stop humming, and before you knew it, you were sneaking out your little diary and a puffy, glittery pen from your backpack. Thankfully, you were tucked away behind a sea of students who were actually taking notes, so you didn’t think the teacher would catch you.

As quietly as you could, you opened your diary to a fresh page, the paper crinkling slightly under your excited fingers. You pulled the ID card out of your pocket, glancing down at Reo’s photo. He looked just as charming on the plastic card as he did in person, and you couldn’t help but smile. It was so stupid, but the idea of returning his ID made your heart race. Maybe it would give you a chance to talk to him again—properly this time, without a ball bouncing off your head.

Giggling softly to yourself, you started writing in the diary, the puffy pen making little sparkly loops and swirls as you jotted down the morning’s events:

| August 4th: - I MET HIM!!! Well… kind of. I don’t even know if “met” is the right word, but it counts anyway :P His name is Reo Mikage, and he’s… honestly, he’s even more handsome up close than I thought he’d be. I can’t believe I got hit in the head with a ball in front of him (that was so fucking embarrassing), but he was so nice about it. I found his ID in the hallway, and I think… I think I’m going to return it after class. I just hope I don’t mess it up this time…

You underlined his name three times, adding a little heart next to it before you even realized what you were doing. Your face burned, but you were too silly to care. You closed the diary with a soft snap and hid it away in your bag, casting a quick glance at the teacher to make sure you hadn’t been caught. Luckily, they were still focused on whatever dull topic they were rambling about.

For the rest of the class, you kept sneaking glances at the ID card, memorizing every detail—his name, the small school emblem, even the tiny scratch near the corner of the plastic. Your fingers twitched with excitement at the thought of returning it, imagining how he’d look at you, hopefully with that same warm smile.

Okay, you got this. You cheered to yourself, your eyes drifting to the clock. Only a few more minutes, and you’d have your chance. You tapped your foot against the floor, anticipation bubbling up inside you like soda fizz.

Finally, the bell rang, and you shot out of your seat with a grin, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you tucked the ID safely back into your skirt pocket. You were going to find Reo Mikage, return his ID, and maybe - start getting to know him a little better.

It felt like the start of something, and you couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.

The day was finally over, and you found yourself lingering in the hallway, practically glued to the spot near the lockers where you’d last seen Reo. His ID card felt like it was burning a hole in your pocket, and you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, glancing around nervously. You told yourself it was no big deal. just return the ID, thank him again, and that’s it. But your heart wouldn’t stop hammering in your chest.

Minutes felt like hours, and you wondered if you should just give up and head home when you saw him. There he was, Reo Mikage, walking down the hallway with that same easygoing smile, chatting on his phone as he approached. You ducked to the side, behind a pillar, and pulled out your lip balm, hurriedly applying it. You checked your reflection in the glass of the trophy case, making sure your hair wasn’t doing anything weird, then smoothed your uniform blouse for good measure and even adjusted the necktie.

Okay, this is it. You took a deep breath, steeled yourself, and stepped out into the hallway, ready to walk right up to him and hand back the ID like a normal person.

But the universe had other plans.

Just as you were about to call out his name, a group of his friends suddenly appeared, coming out of a classroom like they’d been waiting for him. They crowded around him, all loud laughter and friendly teasing, and you felt your stomach drop. Your confidence crumbled, and you spun on your heel, turning sharply back the way you’d come before any of them could spot you.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, hurrying back down the hallway. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you didn’t dare look back to see if he’d noticed. There was no way you could approach him with his friends around. It’d be too awkward, and you’d probably just fumble your words again.

You went back to your classroom, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment. Your backpack was still slung over the back of your chair, and you grabbed it without a second thought, not even bothering to check if you’d left anything behind. You just wanted to get out of there, away from the humiliation of your failed plan.

The bus ride home was a blur. You barely remembered the walk from the stop to your house, and before you knew it, you were in your bedroom, collapsing face-first onto your bed with a groan.

“Why does this have to be so hard?” you mumbled into your pillow, rolling onto your back. You pulled out Reo’s ID, holding it up above you and staring at his name. A part of you wanted to laugh at how dramatic you were being, but it was hard to shake off the sting of disappointment.

That was my chance, you sighed, flipping the ID over in your hand. And I totally blew it.

You dropped the ID onto your nightstand, feeling a wave of frustration. This was not how you imagined it going. You wanted to say something to him, to make a real connection, but instead, you ended up hiding like a coward just because his friends were there. You sighed, but this time - it was a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling and feeling sorry for yourself.

But you weren’t about to give up. There were plenty of school days left to try again, right? You had to believe that. Reo didn’t seem like a jerk, and the way he’d helped you earlier made you feel like he was approachable. At least, when he wasn’t surrounded by his friends.

Rolling off your bed, you grabbed your bag and fished out your diary. Sitting cross-legged on your bed, you opened it to a new page, twirling your puffy pen between your fingers as you thought about how to start. The pen’s tip hovered over the paper before you began to write, feeling a little better with every word.

| August 4th: - Today was supposed to be the day I gave Reo his ID back, but of course, things didn’t go the way I planned. I saw him!! He looked even cuter though, but his friends showed up before I could say anything. I had to bail. I just couldn’t do it with all of them around… It felt too awkward. Maybe I’m overthinking it? Ugh, why is talking to a cute guy so hard?!!!

You paused, doodling a small frustrated face in the corner of the page, then continued:

- I brought his ID home with me. I know it’s weird, but I guess it’s a good excuse to talk to him again. I just have to get the timing right. There’s always tomorrow… Or the day after… There’s no rush. I mean, we’re in the same school!!!

You underlined the last sentence twice, trying to convince yourself that you still had plenty of opportunities. With a sigh, you closed the diary and put it back in your bag, feeling a little more determined than you had earlier. It wasn’t the end of the world—just a minor setback.

You stood up and stretched, glancing at Reo’s ID one last time before carefully tucking it back to the small pockets of your bag. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow, you’d have a plan. A real plan.

For now, you decided it was enough to just dream a little.

The library was quieter than usual, the kind of silence that made you aware of every little sound. You stepped lightly between the towering bookshelves, scanning the spines until you found the ones you needed. Your teacher’s assignment had been boring at best, but at least it gave you an excuse to slip away from the noisy hallways. After gathering a few books, you finally spotted an empty table tucked away in the corner and made your way over, dropping your books down with a soft thud.

Settling in, you opened the first book and absentmindedly flipped through the pages. It wasn’t long before you felt the hair on the back of your neck prickle, a strange sensation that made you look up.

There he was. Reo.

Sitting just a few tables away, with his back to you. He was hunched slightly, absorbed in whatever he was reading, and his purple hair was the first thing you noticed, pulled back loosely but with a few rebellious strands framing his face. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You’d hoped for another chance to see him today, but you hadn’t expected it to happen here, so soon.

Quickly, you dug into your pocket, fingers brushing against the cool plastic of his ID. Your first thought was to return it, but then an idea struck—what if you didn’t just return it? What if you confessed when you did? Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, and you couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through your chest.

If I’m going to give it back, I might as well tell him how I feel.

You got so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize how long you’d been staring at him until, suddenly, he shifted in his seat. Before you could react, Reo turned halfway around, his eyes scanning the room—almost like he’d sensed you looking. Your heart practically jumped to your throat, and you ducked your head, burying your face in the pages of your book and scribbling down random words to look busy.

Oh my God. Did he just catch me staring?!

Your fingers gripped the pen a little too tightly, the ink smudging on the paper as you tried to steady your nerves. You snuck another glance upward, just to see if he was still looking. Thankfully, he’d turned back to whatever he was doing, completely unaware of your panic. You let out a shaky breath, slumping back in your chair and trying to calm your racing heart.

You felt ridiculous, sitting there like some kind of lovesick cliché, but you couldn’t help it. The way his hair caught the light, the curve of his shoulders, the calm focus on his face as he read. It was impossible not to stare. You watched him for a little while longer, but this time you were more careful, only daring quick glances between turning the pages of your book.

When it seemed safe again, you allowed yourself a tiny, relieved smile. Not today, you told yourself. But soon. You tucked his ID back into your pocket, making a promise to yourself that the next time, the next time for sure—you’d say something. For now, you were content just being close, even if it was only from the other side of a library table.

But little did you know, Reo had actually noticed. He’d caught you staring, and a small chuckle slipped from his lips as he looked away, amused by your flustered attempt to hide.

It was lunchtime, and the cafeteria buzzed with the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter. You sat at a table with your friends, enjoying your meal while they talked about everything from weekend plans to the latest gossip. You joined in, trying to keep your focus, but your gaze kept drifting toward Reo.

There he was, sitting a few tables away with his friends, their laughter contagious. It was hard not to admire the way he carried himself, he's so charming and full of life. Your friends were busy chatting, but you couldn’t help but steal glances at Reo, your heart fluttering each time he laughed.

As luck would have it, Reo and his friends soon finished their lunch. They got up, trays in hand, and made their way toward the exit. Just then, your eyes caught something shiny on the table. An opened sachet of ketchup, likely left by Reo himself!

A wild idea popped into your head. Without a second thought, you excused yourself from your friends. “I’ll be right back!” you said, trying to sound casual. You tiptoed over to the table, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. After all, you were about to commit a minor act of ketchup theft. With a quick, triumphant swipe, you grabbed the sachet and tucked it into the pocket of your skirt, feeling like a secret agent on a mission.

When you returned to your friends, you played it cool, sliding back into the conversation as if nothing had happened. They didn’t suspect a thing, and you could barely contain your glee.

After school, you hurried home, a bubbling excitement within you. The first thing you did was pull out your diary, feeling like this was a moment worth documenting. You took the now-cleaned sachet of ketchup from your pocket, holding it up like it was a rare artifact.

“Okay, time to unleash my inner artist!” you declared to no one in particular, grinning at your reflection in the mirror.

August 7th -Today, I officially became a ketchup thief! I might have stolen a piece of Reo’s lunch, and I have the evidence!!!!

Carefully, you took out some tape and stuck the sachet onto the page, making sure it was secure. You then drew little hearts around it, writing beneath it:

-This ketchup once belonged to the coolest guy in school! It's none other than Reo <333

With each word, you felt a sense of joy and silliness wash over you. You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this all was. You added some doodles of ketchup bottles and even a little Reo caricature, complete with his lavender hair.

Days had slipped by, and you still hadn’t made a single move towards talking to Reo. Tennis practice for your PE project had completely taken over, leaving you barely any time to catch a glimpse of him. You hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever, and each day without a Reo sighting only added to your restlessness.

But today was different. It was the day of the tennis match, and this one was graded, so you had to give it your all. The gym was buzzing with energy as both your section and another were joining together for the event, and as luck would have it, that other section was Reo’s. You could barely hold back a smile at the thought of finally seeing him after days of missed chances.

The first match got underway with the initial groups, followed by the second group—your group. When it was your turn, you felt an extra surge of energy, mostly from the thought that Reo might be watching. You were surprisingly good at tennis today, maybe because every time you looked up, you caught sight of Reo, and it pushed you to play your best. Sure enough, during a break in the game, you found him in the crowd, watching intently, which only made you play harder, maybe even a little showy, if you were being honest with yourself.

After your match wrapped up, you sat on the gym benches, catching your breath and taking a long sip from your tumbler as you watched the third group—the one with Reo. And wow, he was good, really good. Every swing, every serve, was effortless. Your heart was practically doing somersaults just watching him, and you found yourself leaning forward, totally captivated.

Once his match finished, you sat back, sipping from your tumbler, mind still hazy from both your own match and his. As you were trying to play it cool, Reo unexpectedly plopped down beside you on the bench. He had his drink in one hand, scrolling through his phone with the other. He took a long sip through his straw, eyes on his screen, but then, out of nowhere, he glanced up, catching your eye. And just like that, he gave you a small, casual smile. It was nothing—just a friendly look, really, but your heart skipped like it was the first time anyone had ever looked at you.

You managed a smile back, trying to keep your cool, but inside you were a mess of fluttering feelings. He stood up, almost immediately, his phone pressed to his ear as he answered a call and began pacing a little ways off. And just then, a ridiculous, maybe even bold, idea crept into your mind.

Carefully, you glanced at his drink. There it was, the straw, just sitting there in his cup, practically calling your name. With one last look to make sure he was still focused on his call, you reached out, holding your breath, and snatched the straw from his drink in one swift, stealthy motion. You stuffed it into the pocket of your polo shirt and slipped away as quietly as you could manage.

As you exited the gym, you couldn’t help but look back. Reo had returned to his seat, reached for his drink, and paused, looking down with a confused expression. “What in the…?” Reo murmured, staring at his drink with the now missing straw.

Suppressing a giggle, you made your way out of the gym, heart racing, hands practically shaking as you patted your pocket, feeling the slim outline of the straw. It was the most random, ridiculous souvenir of your little crush, and you couldn’t wait to tape it into your diary as a memento of today’s small funny victory.

As soon as you got home, you plopped right down at your work desk, feeling that restless excitement still bubbling up. You dug into your bag, pulling out your diary and—of course—the straw. Reo’s straw. You giggled to yourself as you taped it to a new page and started writing down all the moments from today, from the match to that tiny, electric smile he gave you. Every little detail went in, making you smile even more as you remembered it all.

But as you wrote, an idea crept up on you, a mix of nerves and courage. Maybe you should just go ahead and confess to Reo. You were getting crazier about him every day, so why not? With a new burst of energy, you grabbed a fresh piece of paper, writing a short but sweet confession. It was simple: you told him you liked him, mentioned that you’d found his ID, and said you wanted to give it back to him with a little something extra—your true feelings.

Once the note was done, you slipped it into a small pink envelope along with his ID. To make it special, you sprayed a touch of sweet vanilla perfume onto the envelope, then sealed it with a shy smile. Before slipping it into your bag for tomorrow, you gave the envelope a tiny kiss, hoping that would add just the right touch. With a mix of excitement and jitters, you spent the rest of the evening in a daze, waiting for tomorrow.

The next day, as soon as you got to school, you felt that familiar mix of butterflies and determination. Today was the day. Clutching the envelope, you scanned the hallway until you spotted him—Reo, standing at his locker, skimming through his notes. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you made your way toward him.

But just as you got closer, fate threw in a twist. From around the corner, a tall, white-haired guy appeared, eyes glued to something he was playing on his phone. Before you could stop yourself, your gaze locked with his for the briefest second. His eyes were striking, intense, and something about him seemed to pull you in, leaving you momentarily stunned. But he was the first to look away, walking on like he hadn’t even noticed.

Caught off guard, you looked back over your shoulder, watching the white-haired guy disappear down the hall, and for a second, you couldn’t help but feel a strange flutter in your chest. You didn’t even notice when your hand loosened, and the pink envelope slipped quietly from your grip, falling to the ground.

By the time you snapped out of it, the white-haired guy had vanished, leaving you standing there with an odd sense of curiosity and excitement. You didn’t even realize the envelope was gone as you slowly wandered down the hall, following where he’d disappeared.

Meanwhile, back at the lockers, Reo had glanced up, looking around like he’d sensed something. He spotted the little pink envelope lying on the floor, curiosity piquing as he crouched down to pick it up. As he turned it over, he caught sight of your name written in neat handwriting: “From: (Y/N) (L/N), To: Reo Mikage”.

For a moment, he scanned the hallway, his eyes searching, looking for you…but you were already gone. He held the envelope in his hand, unsure of what it might mean, the hint of a smile just barely tugging at his lips as he wondered what you’d left for him.

You’d never even know if he’d read it at all.

a/n: proofread this for like 10 times now.

likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

[magiclcss]

Qᴜɪᴄᴋ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴋᴀᴇᴅᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀɴɢᴀɴʀᴏɴᴘᴀ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ( main trilogy games and anime ):

◜name: Kaede Ryugazaki ◜birthday: April 4th (Aries) ◜height: 162 cm (5'4") ◜weight: 63 kg (141 lbs) ◜class: Hopes Peak Academy’s 76th Class ( Anime ), 77th class ( SDr2 ), 78th class ( THH ), and 79th class ( Killing Harmony ) ◜talent: Super High School Level / Ultimate Violinist ( Former if going by the anime ) ◜job: Works in the 10th division of Future Foundation directly under Ryota Mitarai ( Anime; Future Arc ) ◜moral alignment: Neutral Good ◜status: Alive

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴋᴀᴇᴅᴇ:

What stays the same throughout all the main trilogy and anime: Kaede has the talent of SHSL / Ultimate Violinist. This is something that will not change. Kaede’s age is eighteen to nineteen, or early twenties if I’m writing her in the Future Arc of the Danganronpa anime. Whilst Kaede is on team hope, in the Future Arc, she doesn’t agree with The 2nd Division and the 6th Division’s simple plan of exterminate all Remnants of Despair and anyone that assist them. Nor did she agree with the 1st Division and 10th Division’s favor in removing the source of despair that exist in human nature ( despite her being in division 10 herself ), having found both options a bit too extreme for her liking.

Non-Despair AU: A non-despair verse, where the tragedy never happened, and Kaede simply attends and enjoys life at Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Violinist. She’s a year ahead of her younger brother, Haru, who was dubbed as the Ultimate Trackstar.

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc: Kaede managed to become a good friend with both Mondo Owada and Kiyotaka Ishimaru, and was absolutely devastated by their demises and Chapters 2 &. 3. Shut down emotionally until finding some sort of comfort with Aio Asahina, having found her personality quite refreshing. Decides she’s not worth it even though he does still love her talent and her design. Despite voting for Makoto in chapter 5, Kaede did not find him or Kyoko guilty of the murder, completely believing that the mastermind set them both up. Went to the same middle school as Hifumi Yamada, but barely remembers him due to the two of them running in different circles. Will not hesitate to defend herself and stand her ground against Byakuya Togami. Whilst he isn’t her favorite classmate, Kaede does have respect for him and as person as well as his intelligence.

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair: Being a remnant of despair in the outside world, Kaede actively participated in the concerts the Hiyoko and Ibuki hosted during the tragedy. Using her skills as a violinist to fill people with despair with the music that she played. Much like the others, Kaede was subjected to the Neo World Program, her avatar constructed by removing two to three years of her school memories, making her look and act like she did before she ever entered Hope’s Peak Academy. A kind-hearted and self confident person by nature, Kaede isn’t the type to let anyone push her around, while simultaneously being kind to those around her. She has a liking towards everything cute, which is shown throughout-- especially with how nice she was towards Usami during her time in the program itself. However,  In chapter 3, Kaede contracted the despair disease along with the others who also had it. As well as having a high fever like the others who had the disease, all of Kaede’s self confidence was warped into that of low self esteem and doubt. After the Neo World shuts down, Kaede stays on the real Jabberwock Island with the rest of her classmates.

Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony: Kaede is a completely different person then she is in the show. In the killing game show, Kaede is bubbly, cheerful, and full of self confidence. In the outside world, Kaede is riddled with insecurities, self doubt, and low self esteem. As well as to be the last person standing, her main goal of participating in the killing game was to boost her self confidence. Due to there already being a Kaede in the group of students - Kaede decided to introduce herself by her middle name, Ichika, when Akamatsu and Saihara introduced themselves to her. She had no intention of revealing her first name to any of the students, especially after the events of chapter 1. However, the truth of her real name was exposed by Kokichi during Chapter 3. When the subject of the motive videos were brought up in Chapter 2, Kaede agreed with majority of the students agreed with the latter decision to prevent themselves being influenced by their motive videos. If she were to watch her motive video? The people on the video would be her younger brother, older sister, and her niece. Along with Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko, she resolve herself to go out into the outside world and see the truth for herself.

Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope’s Peak High School ( Future Arc ): Kaede is distant relative of FSHL Blacksmith, Sounosuke Izayoi. But unlike him, Seiko Kimura, and Ruruka Andou; she didn’t get expelled during the incident during the practical exams and actually managed to graduate with her class. Due to being particularly skilled at calming people’s nerves with the melodious sounds of her violin, she was sought out to join the Future Foundation. She was originally the head of the 10th division of the Future Foundation, but subsequently handed the position to Ryota Mitari. While forcefully participating in the final killing game, the forbidden action on her bangle mirrored that of her relative. While Izayoi wasn’t allowed to put food in his mouth, Kaede was not allowed to drink. Kaede was devastated upon discovering the body of her cousin with both Ryota and Kyoko. After investigating his death, the devastation soon turned to rage once it was brought to light that it was Ruruka Andou who had taken her cousin’s life. Which resulted in her nearly decking her in the face, only to be knocked out by Juzo Sakakura in the process. After the fall of the Future foundation, Kaede helped with the rebuilding of Hopes Peak before starting her career as a world renowned violinist for a few years, before deciding to retire and becoming a talent scout for the school.

[strige-faye]

Cerys info!

There is a bunch more but I'm going to be changing a bunch around so here's the main two verses ATM

Disclaimer: Each verse has a 'default' face claim, but I also openly use AI for personal images. So while Marin might be the FC for her College verse, I'll also include examples of her 'real' look. Base Lore: Cerys grew up an introvert. Borderline NEET she'd only ever have one or two 'real life' friends. Everyone else was met online through chat rooms, roleplaying mediums, and of course videogames. Even when she 'grows up' she can't get away from these things and while she has quite the public image (almost always working in 'spicy content') It's always centered around digital icons, videogame characters, anime waifus, ETC. She is VERY perverted, having grown up with the bloom of fanfiction and roleplaying she is eager to try a variety of kinks, and will rarely say no. However her introverted nature is still strong and she often will default to 'dates' being videogames in underwear. Each verse is typically 'preestablished' to be in a relationship with Y/M out of ease on both ends. IF you object DM me otherwise it will be assumed that they are already at least partially 'a thing' Despite her introverted nature she's highly energetic, intensely loyal, and easy to please. The perfect golden retriever GF~!

⸻⸻ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

Vibe: Childhood friends FC: Marin Kitagawa Age: 18

With this verse Y/M was her only real friend growing up. They were both into videogames, anime, and cosplaying even if they weren't great at them. Around age 17 she finally really 'hit' puberty. Never having matured much, and now she's starting to feel better about herself and putting herself out there. Yet at the end of the day Y/M is the only person she really cares for. And if they don't make a move now that they're on summer break she will and with how well they know each other, she's not afraid to pull out the big guns.

⸻⸻ᴄᴏꜱᴘʟᴀʏ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ Vibe: Well meaning Yandere FC: Asuna Ichinose Age: 23

Having grown up, and moved out all on the back of her spicy content she's now a professional cosplayer! A mix of her own social media and working with companies who know their demographic. She's more than happy to be the sexy box art lady. And is often a 'booth babe' at cosplay conventions. However this has lead to a degree of separation between her and her fans. While she's more than happy to 'indulge' some supporters she meets at these events she is waiting for 'the one'. Who would simply be someone who cares about her and not her content. That one person will receive 100% of her love, affection, and free time. While she has yandere energy it's less 'i'll kill any girl you look at' and more 'I snuck into your apartment to make you breakfast'. She hardly knows the meaning of no, or stop, and can get a bit ahead of herself for 'the one' but is that really a bad thing?

[hyperionswrath-a]

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬

@onepartbrave​​ | |  *Squall Leonhart

“ revenge won’t bring peace for you. ”

Despite it having been weeks since it all came to an end, he couldn’t properly shake the tenseness in his body, clinging to it as if expecting to be tossed into the maelstrom of war, death, her voice in his head and the many, countless, endless nights he had to go without sleep again at any given moment. He still couldn’t rest and had not slept through one night after he initially passed out from the wound inflicted during the fight inside the Lunatic Pandora. Nightmares haunted him, and working through what he experienced seemed hardly to be an option, not with everything slowly resurfacing. Part of him was thankful for Fu and Rai to take him in, nurse him back to relative health, and showing patience with his bouts of aggression, panic, and other signs of the scars he had brought back home. Another part privately hated them for the same, humiliated and ashamed, guilt weighing heavy on his mind and heart alongside it all. Being stuck in Balamb Town certainly didn’t help. Not with the way people looked at him, not with those who he once tried to kill being so close. Garden students, his former enemies, and townspeople that had seen him during the occupation of Balamb. It was hard to leave the hotel room his friends had rented for him most of the days. And of course, there was him. The ever-present figure during all of it, like a shadow, like a mocking mirror image of could-have-beens. Squall, who had become everything Seifer wanted to be. Squall, who had been handed all Seifer had dreamed about all his life. Commander, Knight, Hero. Someone people looked up to and relied upon, not out of fear but because they trusted and admired him. Never in his life would the blond have ever expected the other one to live up to such great titles and responsibilities. Naturally, as he was clad in such a role, Leonhart would eventually come to see him. It had taken weeks, if not more than a month (for telling time apart had become somewhat of a challenge, being without any task to follow and with his sleep meddled as it was), but Seifer was not surprised - after all, the last time they faced each other, they had been fighting for their very lives, and not just to test their strengths as it once were. Standing in front of the window leading out to a small balcony, the tall blond remained after he had opened the door to his hotel room, momentarily stunned by the sight of the brunet looking up at him with features unreadable as ever. Instincts told him not to turn his back on the other man, but he knew there was no backstabbing attack to be feared. It wasn’t Leonhart’s style to fight dirty, after all, and aside from all that, the war was over, done. Despite the window being opened, leaving white curtains to gently sway in the ocean breeze, the telling smell of alcohol hang in the air, clinging to the sheets and the tall blond’s clothes alike, same as the stench of cigarettes, the ashtray betraying just how much he smoked nowadays. Clad in black pants and a simple, red shirt, Seifer did not resemble anything of what he looked like during the months he had traveled the world in her name. He was paler, his hair a little longer and while still slicked back, single strands fell into his face ever so often, bright stubble on his cheeks and jaw, while the deep shadows under his eyes betrayed the lack of sleep. ”Revenge won’t bring peace for you.” Catching himself as he had not really listened to what Leonhart was saying, the last part had him stiffen all over again as his mind caught on to the words spoken in his direction, shoulders sliding up just so. He could not recall what the brunet had been on about before, but it didn’t really matter. Exhaling a sharp huff through his nose, scoffing in nature almost, Seifer glanced back over his shoulder, emerald eyes avoiding the corner of the room in which Fujin had hung up his trenchcoat, torn, dirty, and blood-stained. “You think I still want revenge, is that it?” There was a sharp edge to his voice, but it was a far cry from what he used to sound like back in the days of Garden, when he would taunt the other to get a reaction, any reaction out of him. “Why are you here, Leonhart? What do you want? …aside from preaching to me…”

[dealingwithdemonsrp]

The middle of the night, and Alex can't sleep, as usual. He consults the cards, but if anything, they remind him why he's afraid to dream.

» — † — » "Would you like to know your future?" The voice called out, raspy, deep, and seductive. A man younger than his pitch evoked looked up, all mysterious smiles under a curtain of long, dark hair, and hooded eyes smeared with black grease paint. Tattoos of various symbols decorated his knuckles, thick, heavy rings of steel and silver wrapped around his fingers as he passed a deck between them.

The cards flowed as easily as water as they were shuffled, and the man held Alex with his heavy, dark stare. Charming. Mysterious. Right at home on Bourbon Street, peddling hexes and hoodoo--or in some garage, pounding away on a well-loved drum kit. Alex's type to a 'T'. But even so, the bright-eyed brunet merely quirked the corner of his mouth and shook his head.

"No, thanks," he said. The fortune-teller regarded him a moment longer, probably about to lean into his sales pitch, but Alex was already gone. His chest felt tight as he walked, and a chill touched his shoulders as he hurried away. A dark chuckle followed, his reflection in a passing window grinning with sharp teeth and black eyes as he fled.

Alex hated fortune-tellers. Frauds at best, new-age idiots at worst, it made his nose itch to watch them work. Most of the time, their craft was harmless enough. Entertain, swindle, pocket a bit of that sweet tourist cash--hell, Alex had done it a few times himself when pressed. The difference was he knew doing it invited that unwanted thing if he wasn't careful. Not always. Not inherently. But eventually. It was one of the unfortunate side effects of having a demon bound to you.

Fortune-tellers, frauds and fools alike, had no idea what their tricks might invite. Most of the time a mischievous spirit or two might get involved, but Alex had no desire to see those hellish eyes smile back at him from across a table again.

No. Better to do it himself.

An aluminum tin rattled as Alex pulled it from his pocket, just barely big enough to cover his palm and decorated with stylized birds and wings. Scarlet paint framed a golden sunset (or perhaps it was a sunrise) with black birds, hazy clouds, and an angelic figure surrounded by leaves and thorns. Alex exhaled as he popped it open and withdrew a deck of his own, setting it on the vanity.

Eerie, arcane motifs blessed in red blurred in his hands as he shuffled the deck, his eyes closed as he concentrated on the question he needed answer. What's next?

One . . . two . . . three. . . . Thirteen times, the deck passed between Alex's hands. His chest tightened the more he shuffled, the pulsing of his heart speeding up as the question built up in his mind. Where did he go from here? What was different? Had anything changed?

Was he any closer to an answer?

The dark voice that haunted Alex snickered as he cut the deck, and he placed his palm on the cards, glaring into the mirror of the old-fashioned vanity. An otherwise empty room sat behind him, dark save for the lamp beside the bed, cracks and peeling wallpaper the only distinguishing characteristics. But it was his reflection that drew his eyes most.

Thin, lean, a bit grizzled, and definitely in need of a good meal and sleep, with pronounced cheekbones and cat-like eyes. But the image was paler, the unnaturally bright blue eyes aglow, the color pronounced against their black sclera. The scar marring his lip and left cheek were blackened with taint that spread in veins across his face, matching the creeping corruption up his neck from beneath his collar. His nose, his lips, and fingers were black with necrosis, and a tinge of frost dusted his hair and the deck beneath his clawed hand.

Xael stared back, his fingers drumming over the desk with Alex's. Alex swallowed.

"Fuck off, Xael," he hissed at the reflection. "You're not needed here."

'Are you sure about that?' Xael's voice was almost a croon, uncomfortably close to Alex's ear yet not there all at once. 'I know the answers you seek, you know--you don't need--'

"I said, fuck off," Alex spat, hurling all the hatred and venom he could haul up from deep within himself. Spittle hit the mirror, and like smoke, the apparition vanished. Alex sat alone in the room now, staring at himself as he was. Exhausted. Tired. But determined.

He inhaled, and drew the first card.

The Tower sat upright, surrounded by war and calamity on its painted face. A pang hit Alex's heart.

The second card. The Wheel of Fortune glimmered with beautiful omens, but upside-down the light made those symbols seem ominous. Fate was determined on its course--whether or not Alex liked it.

Alex's hand shook, and he grit his teeth as he drew the third. He didn't even have to look to know the Devil stared at him upright, it's sinful smile full of wretched glee.

"I told you to fuck off, Xael!" Alex snapped, and he angrily scooped the cards back up and began shuffling them again. Surely, it had to be a fluke. He was strong enough to hold Xael back from his own readings. Again, he focused on his question, trying to force down the rising frustration and fear as he shuffled the deck another thirteen times.

Xael didn't appear in the mirror this time as Alex cut the deck, and once more he drew those three hated cards. The Tower, upright. The Wheel of Fortune, reversed. The Devil, upright.

Again.

Shuffle. Cut. Draw. The Tower. The Wheel of Fortune. The Devil.

"Stop it, Xael!" Alex shouted. This had to be some kind of trick! Xael shouldn't be able to work around the rosary or collar if Alex didn't want him to.

The demon was silent. Alex's reflection remained unchanged.

Shuffle. Cut. Draw. The Tower. The Wheel of Fortune. The Devil.

Alex shivered, hands clenching as he stood and screamed at the mirror. "ENOUGH!!" His heart raced, and his head throbbed as the cards suddenly scattered. Wood creaked under his fingers as he gripped the edge of the table, and a sound like a gunshot echoed in the room as the mirror cracked.

And just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Alex gasped for air, splinters digging into his whitened knuckles, his body shaking like the room had been mere moments ago. No . . . ! Calm. He needed to calm down. He needed to just breathe. Get a grip. Stop and step back. They were just cards. Just . . . stupid little pieces of paper and dye. Meaningless in the end. No need to get so worked up.

'But that's not what you really believe,' Xael's voice crept through the crevices of Alex's psyche, despite his host's attempts to push him down. 'Not what you really KNOW. You know the spirits see your fate. Fear it, even.'

Alex's reflection shifted again, and Xael picked up the mirrored Devil card still lying on the table. He smiled, a playful twist of his mouth as he held the tarot card up to his face, and in the reflection Alex could see the room was darker. A shadow, vaguely humanoid in shape, stretched to fill the whole room. Long, gangling limbs at all sharp and strange angles stretched over the room, something like hair hanging loosely off its body, like a sickened tree.

It was then Alex noticed the shapes moving behind the demon. Humanoid, close to his height and size. One wandered through the now misty reflection as if dazed, its staggered steps dragging through invisible drifts. A second scrambled away from the dark shadow looming over it, hampered by obstacles not yet visible. Alex's twisted reflection sat calm and poised, hands steepled under his chin with the card still between his fingers, and Alex froze as he watched one monstrous limb snatch at the lumbering soul in the mirror.

Purgatory.

The shadow dragged the soul towards it, and Alex could hear it scream as he watched it be pulled to its inevitable fate. Even though the shapes were formless, even though he'd seen this a hundred times already, he squeezed his eyes closed and looked away as he 'heard' those baleful cries cut off with a sickening crunch--just before he felt a small surge that dispelled the headache still bothering him. Xael chuckled, and Alex felt his stomach churn.

'You should be glad, you know. You won't suffer such an ignoble fate.'

A second cry, a second nausea-inducing crunch, a second wave of rejuvenation, and Alex trembled, fiddling with his rosary as he pointedly looked away from the mirror. Yet he could still feel those eyes boring into his back, icicles pricking along his spine. What warmth he had left in his blood seemed to drain away as the seconds lazed by.

No. His fate would be worse.

How much of himself had he already lost to Xael? How many times had he used those god-forsaken abilities? How many times had he been possessed by the demon? How many times had he been made to do things he couldn't remember until he woke up in the bloody aftermath . . . ? And if this kept up, if Alex didn't find a way to break the curse. . . .

There'd be nothing of him left before much longer.

Alex grit his teeth and stubbornly set about picking up the tarot cards from where his small outburst had scattered them, and he heard Xael laugh from the mirror. Whatever. Alex wouldn't be fooled by his tricks, and he wouldn't give in to despair. He'd keep searching as long as it took, until either he found a cure, or there was nothing of him left. Every stone, every hole, every nook and cranny and crevice--he'd search every damned corner of this life and the next. And if nothing else, he'd delay Xael's resurrection as long as he possibly could.

But as he gathered the cards, one in particular caught his eye, and Alex squinted at it and paused. Sitting upright, far apart from the rest of the deck, was the Star. It had landed face-up on the bed, and the way the lamplight caught it, it almost seemed to shimmer. Was he imagining things . . . ?

Alex reached tentatively for the stray card, plucking it from the sheets as he stared at it for a long moment. Maybe it was just coincidence. He'd scattered the cards with his powers by accident, and pretty forcefully at that--any one of them could've wound up in the exact same place. It was just . . . chance.

Just like the other three cards he managed to draw over and over again.

Maybe it wasn't just chance it landed there, almost twinkling and as if trying to catch his eye. The Star represented hope, glimmering brightest in the deepest dark, a promise the sun would rise, and came after the Tower's destruction in numerical order. After being broken down to one's barest essence, the Star was a sign of renewal.

Alex pursed his lips, staring at it a moment longer before carefully placing it back into the deck. The tin shut with a soft click as he recovered the last of the cards, and he placed it back into his jacket pocket before standing again. Xael was gone from the mirror, the ruined room all that was visible in its cracked surface, and Alex splayed a hand over the breaks in his reflection.

"I'm not going to become you," he hissed. "I'll find a way, just you wait."

[yuichiroswife]

Your muse’s average evening.

Jot down what your muse does at each time in the evening! It can be a typical evening at their dwelling, residence, wherever they might get ready for bedtime frequently. If your character has a different schedule when getting ready for sleep, feel free to rearrange to fit them!

7:00 - Starts to clean up the house, likes to make sure that everything is spick and span when Envy comes homes. Even makes sure to clean up the basement when needed (even though it still terrifies him). 7:30 - Goes on a quick shopping trip. He has to make sure he has everything he needs for dinner, doesn’t linger within the store for very long due to the fact he doesn’t like large crowds (or strangers). 8:00 - Begins preparing dinner for him and Envy — usually prepares something he knows Envy enjoys, will occasionally introduce a Russian dish that he’s grown up with during his life with his parents. Makes dessert, nothing too fancy though. Serves wine for special occasions. 8:30 - Makes small talk with Envy over dinner, usually asks how his day was and speaks about his own in turn if asked. 9:00 - Finishes up with dinner. Begins washing dishes. He has to make sure everything is spotless, mainly due to the fact he’s become a neat freak after spending so much time in Envy’s house. Takes spots of filth very personally, sometimes. Also makes sure they’re completely dry once he’s finished. 9:30 - Laundry time. He starts to gather up both him and Envy’s clothing to prepare them for the wash. Most likely has to do two different loads since he wears white and Envy wears all black. If not, he may accidentally bleach (more like ruin) something of Envy’s and that’s not something he plans on doing. 10:30 - While the laundry is being washed, he begins mending any rips or tears in Envy’s clothing. You can’t really have a serial killer with tattered clothing now, can you? It’d look unprofessional. 11:00 - Once he’s done mending clothes, he likely is now cleaning off Envy’s work tools. Makes sure to scrub off any remaining residue with absolute gusto. 11:30 -  Afterwards, he finally gets to go and take a bath, relax, maybe soak a bit, and just unwind from the day. Though despite this being his time to rest, he’s likely thinking about his routine for tomorrow. Somewhat lost in thought. Perhaps, he may even forget to check the time, if Envy doesn’t come to him that is. 12:00 - Finally lays in bed. Now’s the time to sleep. After all, tomorrow is yet another day. Just like today.

Tagged by: @fonzeworth​ Tagging: @pyropalle​​, @anomieheld​, @spxrosae​​, @diamondmuses​​, and @s-talking​​

[trageadies]

   𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝙻𝙵 𝙸𝚂 𝙲𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙸𝙾𝚄𝚂 ,   she always is when she runs into someone else supernatural.   she was wanted by many a hunter,  and thus trust was not something she offered freely.   but she needed information.     thus here she was.     “    i hear if i want information,   you’re the man to go too.    ”         there is a guarded quip to her tone,   as arms idly cross over her chest yet the wolf is ready to fight if need be.   a trait that is ingrained into her very nature after living for so long.     (  …   after all over 2000 years was long enough  )        “    or is that just a lie those that don’t like you,   like to spread around.    ”  

[ starter  call ]   :  not  accepting .   |    @jewelthieved​​​  :  for  karl.

[ofmxelodies-archive]

Vignettes: (Kinda wanted to write this out script style. Baseline is introducing Garnet to the SeeD environment. She’s technically 24 here and is the only exception to enroll at such an older age--partly due to her celebrity status and wealth. (And because Squall was told by Headmaster Cid---before he resigned---about this little secret years earlier, he was prepared for any backlash caused by the students as he aged). Brahne is enjoying the spotlight graced by the cadets, while Garnet feels a pang of guilt because she is not able to disclose the information that she is a sorceress within Garden. Only Squall is aware of this, and Zell---for accidentally eavesdropping.)

So without further ado, here I go...

Upon the gates of Balamb, a bright ruby red carpet is rolled out near the entrance in order to welcome the royal family within the walls---which was not approved by Squall.

There are hundreds of students and SeeDs alike lined up to get a look at this princess who will be attending their classes, their chatter escalating as a vehicle in the distance emerges.

Squall: (...So that must be the escort. I hope this doesn’t cause any problems...) The crowd’s cheering intensifies. Squall: < Sigh. >  ( Give me a break...)

The car halts to a stop, the mandated SeeD driver gets out from the car before rushing over to open up the door for the queen to exit first. The cheers escalate as Brahne emerges with two serious stricken guards.

Squall: ( That’s the queen? Is this some sort of sick joke? ) Regardless of her unique appearance, the crowd goes wild anyways. Brahne: Greetings my darlings! ‘Tis I, your beloved queen of Centra! Squall: ( Bold of her to state she’s queen of anything. And why is she causing such a scene? Here’s to hoping her daughter isn’t the same...) Brahne: Ah, yes. You there, boy. Squall: Boy? Brahne: I require the headmaster before taking my daughter inside. Have you any idea of his whereabouts? Squall: I am headmaster. Brahne: ...Truly? What a pity... Squall: Excuse me? Brahne averts her attention back to the vehicle, dismissing any retorts Squall may have had. Brahne: GARNET! Darling, come here. Garnet: ...Yes mother. A dainty red boot is seen from within the vehicle’s depths as the royal guard escort their princess safely out of the car. Garnet is greeted with a sea of smiling faces, and posters either greeting the royal family...or telling them to go home.

Garnet makes her way towards her mother, nodding her head to Squall.

Garnet: Greetings. I am Garnet Til Alexandros, heir to the Centra throne. You are Mr. Leonhart, correct? I’ve been anticipating the day I could see you with my own eyes. Allow me to give my gratitude for ending the war all those years ago. Squall: (Still not used to this Mr. Leonhart thing.) ... It’s nothing. Come with me and we’ll get you signed up for classes. Meanwhile your mother can...keep doing that. Garnet peers over her shoulder, witnessing Brahne giving air kisses to her fans and haters alike. Garnet: Y-Yes. I see. Come, let us press on. Squall: (Whatever)

As they make their way inside Squall’s office, finally free of the crowd’s yelling, Squall holds out a piece of paper and pen towards Garnet.

Squall: Look through and circle which classes you want to take. If you have any questions just ask---

Before he could finish, he hears the sound of the elevator bell and his office doors bursting wide open.

Zell: Yo! Squall! Did ya see the royal family? I never really paid any attention to that stuff but that queen is fu---- Squall: ZELL. Zell: Huh?

As Zell clamps his mouth shut, his eyes drop on a rather...gorgeous girl.

His face goes red.

Zell: Oh uh... D-didn’t see ya there hehe... Garnet: Please. Don’t worry about it. Continue if you must. Squall: Zell. I’m with a client right now. Can’t this wait unt-- Zell: WHOA. You’re the princess they’re talkin’ about right? I’ve always wondered, who handles your finances? Are you guys SUPER wealthy? Squall: .... Zell, please. Garnet: < Laughs > Zell: Squall! Please! I’m dyin’ to know! Oh, and is it true the queen killed the--- A loud smack is heard, followed by the sight of Irvine having pistil whipped Zell across his face. Irvine: Now Zell, didn’t anyone teach you how to treat a lady---a pretty princess, no less. Squall: ...You gotta be kidding me. Can this wait? Garnet still needs to sign up for classes. Zell: Oh! Take history is instructor Aki! He might be a hard ass, but he’s really good at teachin’ the really hard stuff. Irvine: That Quistis aint half bad, either. Selphie: I’m here too! I wanna say stuff! Squall: .... Garnet: Who would have thought you had such lively friends? Zell: The liveliest! We were with Squall during time compression. We’re part of the six! Garnet: Truly? Oh, I’ve always wanted to meet you all. Selphie: Should we get Quistis and Rinoa? Squall: No. Zell: Yeah! It’d be fun getting the gang together to meet the princess! Garnet: < Laughing > Irvine: Oh, I can get really friendly. -Wink, wink- Selphie: HEY! Don’t scare away our princess! Princess, if Irvine is being a creep don’t be afraid to throw a desk at him. Squall: Can you guys just--- Irvine: Hey, hey, hey now. A desk? We don’t want the lil lady to pull something. Zell: Cool it, Irvine. Do you really want to get beheaded by the royal family that fast? Squall: Guys... Irvine: Beheaded? Centra lost that power 80 years ago! If anything, her guards would shoot me before I touched her. ...On second thought that’s not any better. Selphie, whispers to one of the guards: Use the biggest rocket launcher you’ve got on him. Guard smirks: ..Noted.

Squall eventually rises from his seat and slams his fists down on his desk to get the focus back in order.

Squall: Now that I have your attention, you all need to leave. Immediately. Garnet may be a princess, but she is, nonetheless, a student. She will get no special treatment within these walls. If you want to be her friend, go ahead, but I will take it personally if you help her cheat or cater to her most than the other students. Zell: BUT--- Selphie: Yessir mister leader! C’mon guys! Irvine: Princess, if you ever need a sharpshooter, best in the world, I’m your guy. Zell: Puh-leeese. Tell her that when you’re under pressure. Irvine:                             You can’t just call me out like that.

The group eventually leaves, allowing Squall just a moment to breathe.

Squall: ...I apologize for all of...that. It wasn’t professional. Garnet shakes her head and smiles. Garnet: All my life I’ve only ever been around “professionals”. It was a nice change of scenery. Besides, I’ve done my homework. As a SeeD, you “must be prepared for anything” right?

Squall nods, that faintest line of a smile creases his lips. Squall: Right. Squall: Now, which classes look ideal for ascending the throne?

                                       To be continued...(?)

[healingpast-a]

❝ hiding away in some bunker, i take it. ❞ his voice was dry — to better mask the hurt, bitterness reigned. the last time ben saw her through their bond, she had slammed shut the ramp of that loathed heap of junk ship, off to cower with the rest of the remaining resistance following crait’s retreat — she had been resolute to rather rot with them than take his hand. so be it. ❝ for your sake, i hope you aren’t. when i find the hole they’ve crawled into —— ❞ he left the rest of his wrath unspoken. ┌ @killingpast ┘

SHE HAD WONDERED FOR A WHILE IF THEIR BOND HAD BEEN SEVERED BY HER REJECTION OF HIM, BY HER CLOSING THE DOOR TO THE FALCON AS SHE’D CLOSED OFF THEIR MEETING. The Force had other ideas, as it seemed always to do. She hissed her frustration when the telltale silent roar of their connection spiked around her. Her fingers flexed as if her lightsaber might be a good idea, remembering that night by the fire and how despite their distance they had touched, but she instead remained still and kept her gaze trained on him as he spoke. She wasn’t afraid of him, she realised. Despite the sting of knowing instinctively that he was hurt, she also knew that he could not actively seek to harm her. He could have killed her, but he didn’t. 

Crait had been good fortune, she realised, that the First Order had not been able to kill each of what remained of the Resistance. She and Chewie had managed to rescue Leia, Poe, Finn and the others, but it had left their numbers severely depleted and in need of somewhere new to hide. So they’d searched and made base on a number of planets, they’d spread their small numbers even thinner to establish some new strongholds. They’d reached out and begun to fill their numbers once more. 

Rey immediately closed her mind to him. Ben was a master at seeing into people’s thoughts, and she changed the image of where she was into one of Jakku, of her lost home, and of Ahch-To, where she knew what was left of Luke Skywalker remained. 

❝ You won’t find us, Ben. ❞ She used the name without hesitation, her arms folding over her chest as she watched him, ❝ The Resistance is alive and well, and we will stop the First Order. ❞ Rey’s eyes narrowed somewhat, and she scrunched her nose in turn, irritated that the Force was still attempting to bind them through this connection. ❝ You can’t snuff out the light as easily as you hoped. ❞

[toldtheory]

mundane and routine, that was what this was.   another day organizing movies on shelves and attending to the needs of customers.  this is where you spent most of your time, the rest of it spent writing and overseeing local news. this was the distraction that you needed.  a distraction from the things that you still so desperately sought to ignore.    how long had it been since you’d seen heather?  nearly two weeks?    perhaps the longest that you’ve gone without seeing your girlfriend, ever.     you could hardly shake the memories of what had happened.  the mind control, all of it.   the way that she had nearly destroyed you just as so many others had been destroyed and controlled.  it’s the doorbell that stirs you, turning around to greet customer but simply being face to face with the one that you’d been avoiding. 

        heart pounds in chest, eyes wide at the sight of her.  clearing your throat. 

        “ if you’ve come to talk, i told you that i’m not ready for that. please leave. ”

        @lifeguaird​

[magiclcss]

Qᴜɪᴄᴋ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀʀᴜ'ꜱ ᴅᴀɴɢᴀɴʀᴏɴᴘᴀ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ( THH, V3, and anime ):

◜name: Haruto “Haru” Ryugazaki ◜birthday: May 30th (Gemini) ◜height: 177 cm (5'10") ◜weight: 77 kg (170 lbs) ◜class: Hopes Peak Academy’s 78th class ( THH ), and 79th class ( Killing Harmony ) ◜talent: Super High School Level / Ultimate Track Star ( Former if going by the anime ) ◜job: Works in the 13th division of Future Foundation along side Aoi Asahina ( Anime; Future Arc ) ◜moral alignment: Neutral Good ◜status: Alive

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴀʀᴜ:

Things to know about Haru’s verse: Haru has the talent of SHSL / Ultimate Trackstar. This is something that will not change. Due to the fact of him being Kaede’s younger brother, I don’t know how to implement him in SDr2. Therefore, I won’t write him in the second game. Just know that he was a member of the future foundation in the outside world while his sister was in the Neo World Program. Haru’s age range is seventeen to nineteen, or twenty years old if I’m writing her in the Future Arc of the Danganronpa anime. Haru, is on team hope, in the Future Arc and doesn’t agree with The 2nd Division and the 6th Division’s simple plan of exterminate all Remnants of Despair and anyone that assist them. Nor does he agree with the 1st Division and 10th Division’s favor in removing the source of despair that exist in human nature. This belief was heavily influenced by the fact that his own sister was a Remnant of Despair herself. In regards to Danganronpa v3: both him and Kaede are active participants in the Killing Game. So the only time their verses intertwine is during the events of Killing Harmony and their Non-Despair AU’s

Non-Despair AU: A non-despair verse, where the tragedy never happened, and Haru simply attends and enjoys life at Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Trackstar.

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc: Haru, much like the main cast of the 78th class, lived in the Academy happily, spending his happy times together for around one year until The Tragedy occurred. Once the tragedy occurred, the True Ultimate Despair took away his school memories so he could participate in the Killing School Life with the others. While Haru manages to keep a cheerful disposition, you could see visible distraught and fear on his face when Monokuma gave another incentive to the students: The students' most embarrassing and the deepest secrets. Managing to be close friends with Yasuhiro Hagakure, he was an active voice in the 3rd murder trial. Actively helping to clear his friend’s name until Hagakure was no longer the prime suspect. Despite voting for Makoto in the chapter 5 trial, Haru couldn’t wrap his head around Makoto committing a murder. With the killing game finally over and Junko gone, Haru and the remaining survivors were finally free to leave the school, getting rescued by the Future Foundation soon after.

Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony: Much like the others, Haru is a completely different person then he is in the show. In the killing game show, Haru is a energetic person who’s quickly able to make friends with nearly anyone he interacts with and is a borderline himbo. In the outside world, Haru is cynical, malicious, and reckless person who doesn’t really care for anyone else that aren’t his two sisters and niece. His main purpose for entering the game was to win by any means necessary. Now, this part is a bit tricky. In the outside world, Haru and Kaede are truly siblings. However, due to their first memory via the Flashback Light, they were made to believe that they were twins. While in reality, Haru is younger by a year. Haru’s motive video would’ve included his older sister, Asami as well as his niece. Along with Shuichi, Maki, Himiko, and his sister, hhe resolve himself to go out into the outside world and see the truth for himself.

Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope’s Peak High School ( Future Arc ): Haru is distant relative of FSHL Blacksmith, Sounosuke Izayoi. After the events of THH, Haru, along with the remaining survivors of the first Killing Game became members of the Future Foundation. Upon hearing that Makoto was charged with the crime of treason for protecting the Remnants of Despair, he felt a wave of relief wash over him that he could’ve cried right then and there. Not only grateful that he was willing to save his sister, but the other Remnant of Despairs as well. Forced to participate in the Final Killing Game by Monokuma, he was fitted with bangle that would put him to sleep at a fixed time. His forbidden action forbade him from smiling until the Killing Game was over. After the fall of the Future foundation, Haru helped with the rebuilding of Hopes Peak before he decided to continue his track training. Every once in a while, he’ll head over to Jabberwock Island to visit his sister.

[princesscoded]

“anything, just call me, okay?”

five word prompts. —— accepting!

       Penelope was nervous —— excited, but not enough to overcome her nerves. Her impatience with the bus didn’t help, if anything making the butterflies in her stomach flutter faster in anticipation. But alas, there was nothing she could do but wait.

       Standing at the bus stop with her adoptive father holding her hand as they waited for the bus to drive around the corner, not a moment of silence passed by; she had way too many questions that needed to be answered. Most were based on stereotypical situations she’d heard happens at real schools (she didn’t consider the school at the orphanage to be a “real” school). However, as she thought more about it, she was reminded of what it was like at the orphanage.

       “Daddy,” the little girl began, looking up at him, “what if the other kids don’t like me? Or make fun of me for my dysele — dyslexia?” she kept his gaze as he knelt in front of her, taking both her hands in his, “What if it’s just like the orphanage?”

       She listened intently as he insisted that it wouldn’t be, that she was smart and kind, there was no way anyone wouldn’t want to befriend her, and that they wouldn’t make fun of her for her dyslexia. She heard the bus engine as it escalated towards them. He added that if she needed anything, to just go to the office and call him.

       With a deep breath and a determined nod, she hugged him tightly, only letting go when the bus prepared to stop. She turned back to wave as she approached the opening doors, turning back around to find a seat, and then smiling and waving out the window until he was out of sight.

[guilturned]

verse tags

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[dealingwithdemonsrp]

@forevermonsters sent an ask! || "The moon looks pretty tonight…" // to alex from petal

» — † — » There was something comforting about winter. Even though Alex barely had a penny to his name and no warm bed to rest his weary bones, the crisp night breeze nonetheless felt refreshing through his layered shirts and ragged jeans. Snow had already fallen that morning, and the obsidian sky with its silvery moon promised more tomorrow, if the temperature drop held.

Maybe that was why Alex liked it so much, even if the dry air left him licking his chapped and cracking lips. A blistered spot drew a hiss, and he sighed out a puff of steam, smiling as it rose and twisted in the air. Nights like this always reminded him of the first time his mother took him outside to build a snowman.

But Alex wasn't here to reminisce. He reached into his outer pocket, wrappers and paper crinkling as he rummaged around, and pulled out a piece of hard candy along with a crumpled piece of newspaper. 'Midtown Murders Continue...' read the headline as he unfurled it. In his other hand, he undid the candy wrapper before popping the bright red treat into his mouth, sugar and chili powder and a hint of watermelon melting in his mouth as he read over the article again.

'Abigail Beatty, 23, was found dead on E 19th St earlier this week. According to interviews with authorities, her death is being treated as a homicide, though the official cause of death is unknown. Sources say they suspect a possible connection with other similar deaths in the area. . . .'

Alex sighed. Four deaths, and this would make five if it was connected. All young women. All within middle Manhattan. All ruled as exsanguination with no known motive, method, or suspects. Normally, this wasn't his kind of thing and he'd just leave it to the authorities--but that was before he caught wind of the rumors.

The brunet folded up the paper clipping and tucked it back into his pocket, rolling his candy in his mouth with a loud, wet pop! as he stared up at the sky. A tuft of cloud floated past the full moon, like an errant brush stroke on the vast black canvas, and Alex sucked on his treat thoughtfully. These people were dying of blood loss, but if the rumors were to be believed, there wasn't an ounce of blood to be found anywhere near the bodies. So was it cultists, then? Draining and collecting blood for sacrifice?

No, Alex thought. Slashing throats is messy business and draining and collecting a corpse is even messier. You'd need a slaughter room of some kind for it to be efficient, and these are all out in the streets. . . .

Not to mention the absolute lack of demonic activity. If someone was collecting the blood for a ritual, there wasn't anything around to bite, and demons weren't known for being patient when they smelled a ritual in the making. And one eyewitness had said the body had been unmarred when they found it.

"The moon looks pretty tonight. . . ." A voice caught him off-guard, drawing Alex out of his thoughts, and he turned. His bright blue eyes widened with surprise to see a young woman standing nearby. Given the look of her face, she couldn't possibly be more than 20 at most, the same age as the victims he was investigating. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his battered and stained windbreaker, squinting at her curiously.

What was she doing out here? And at this hour of all times? Wasn't she aware of the current danger?

"Uh . . . yeah," Alex replied as he glanced her up and down once more, and he swallowed what remained of the candy. "Yeah, it's real pretty. Um--I'm sorry, but what are you doing out here, miss . . . ?"

[lovspier]

       he shouldn’t. he really, really shouldn’t. it’s a meme. at this point, it’s a pretty outdated meme, but he has to. but also, he shouldn’t. && round && round does his thoughts swirled for the past few minutes ( okay, maybe for the past hour && a half ). all right, simon ! commit !! ❛ so ... how's the most beautiful man in the world doing ? ❜ // @blubram​ liked !

[healingpast-a]

┌ @killingpast​ ┘is purely staring at rey’s lips.

THEIR BOND OFTEN INTERRUPTED HER AT THE MOST INCONVENIENT MOMENTS. She’d been with his mother of all people, trying to talk about him in a roundabout way to avoid Leia realising whom she was talking about. The general, however, was perceptive enough to know exactly what was going on in the jedi-in-training’s mind and had sat her down, pulled her hair out of her buns and started brushing it as they discussed Ben - without using his name - and how all Rey wanted was to have him home with her. 

She knew, when Leia’s hands stilled in her hair, that the older woman wished the same. 

A braid was almost finished when the familiar thrum and silence stilled everything around them, and Rey looked up, immediately flushing with colour and pausing in her ramblings to meet his gaze for a brief moment. Time stood still around them, holding them hostage in a tableau of uncertainty before Leia - always hyperaware - gave Rey’s shoulder a little squeeze and muttered something about needing some caf before standing and heading off back toward camp. 

Only the end of her hair was left unbraided, and Rey stood herself so she didn’t have to crane her neck when she met Ben’s gaze. ❝ Now I think the Force is trying to make it difficult. ❞ She said softly, biting down on her bottom lip as if that might have been enough to counter the tension that lingered between them. They’d seen one another a lot since that first night in the spring and now she couldn’t do much but look at him and imagine that moment. 

He seemed to be watching her closely, examining her. And then his eyes were on her mouth and Rey’s flush darkened considerably. They hadn’t said anything and yet she could feel the rush of emotions through their link as he considered kissing her. 

And Force if she wasn’t thinking about it right back.