#but i did not in fact decide to disband the room and instead just dealt with it

[mitternz]

people who disband the room when a song they hate gets chosen in pjsekai <<<<<

[melodiesofblueroses]

Can I request a Seiichiro with a reader who loves Cinnamoroll and they bond over it?

hello anon, hope you've been doing well!! I hope you don't mind, but I decided to write a fic for this rather than hcs. It is a bit long so apologies for that, but it was just too cute, and I couldn't seem to stop writing! Hope you enjoy 💕

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-𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: seiichiro x gn!reader

-𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff

-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: ~1.9k

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“could you please give these to the student council president?” one of your fellow club members asked, shoving a stack of documents into your arms. it was nearing the end of the day, and all the members were helping to clean up the classroom before all going their separate ways. quickly scanning over them, you weren’t quite sure what they were for and why a small school club even needed that many papers, but you decided that it would be much less of a headache if you just complied. it’s not like they really asked much out of you anyway since you were simply another member, a mere single digit they could add to their forms. the only reason you were even in a club was because everyone was expected to be in one.

“um, sure,” you replied, trying your best to hold the heavy load of papers. it would surely be a nightmare to reorganize if any were to spill. the other member seemed to pay no mind and instead started to thank you for going through all of the trouble. it’s not like you really minded the task, however, so all you could do was awkwardly stand still so that you could ask them one more question. “could you point me in the direction though?” 

it was usually the captain or co-captain that often dealt with the student council president, and you’d heard quite a bit about him. well, for one, he was supposedly quite handsome, though that was currently the least of your concerns. from what you’ve gathered, the president was a dependable guy, someone who was loved by all. he always took on a task someone asked of him, whether it be too big or small. yet, he was also a bit frightening due to how uptight and strict he was with guidelines. at times, he was quite a pain to deal with, or so you’ve heard. it was rather frustrating to all of the other club captains as they had to redo their forms many times in order to hold up to his standards. in short, the president was a perfectionist. no wonder the captain of your club didn’t want to go deliver the documents today. 

you shuddered at the thought of meeting such a guy, terrified that he’d have you stay longer and redo the papers. you didn’t even know how to fill out the forms, much less what was even on them. as much as you wanted to simply leave the documents at the doorstep, you knew that the club was depending on you. besides, if the president was that strict, then he’d surely get mad at your club, and you couldn’t risk it disbanding. there really wasn’t much you could currently do, however, since you had just arrived at his office. deciding that it was better to get it over with, you knocked on the door a few times, opening and stepping into the room the moment you heard ‘enter.’

you thought that surely the rumors and gossip were exaggerated when you saw a young man sitting at a desk, smiling up at you as you entered the room. there was possibly no way that such a generous looking fellow was so stern. well, there was one thing they got right: he really did seem like a dependable man. plus, he was quite good-looking if you did say so yourself. awestruck, it took you a few moments to snap out of your trance once you caught yourself staring, fumbling over your words in embarrassment as you introduced yourself. 

“uh, i’m y/n l/n from the card games club. the captain asked me to deliver these documents to you.” stepping forward to the desk, you shyly handed over the large stack, trying your best to avoid his gaze. you really hoped that everything was in order so that you could get out of there as soon as possible. your delivery was supposed to arrive today, and you wanted to get home on time to receive it. 

“it’s nice to meet you y/n.” at the sound of his voice, you couldn’t help but gush a bit. you couldn’t believe that you’d fallen for a few false rumors. he was a total sweetheart! or at least, from what you’ve seen. “i’m seiichiro minamoto, the student council president, though i’m sure you already know that.” the laugh that followed after was loud enough to make your heart jump, taken aback by the sudden noise. it also sounded so hearty and warm, however, that you couldn’t help but be flustered. seiichiro was shaping up to be a great guy. “let’s see now…” he muttered to himself as he scanned over the papers you had brought while you stood awkwardly in front of him, awaiting any feedback. it surely was anxiety-inducing, especially for someone that had never interacted with the president before. 

as you stood there, fidgeting and playing with your nails, you began to survey the room and the table, practically anything to avert your gaze from the male that was currently looking over the documents. the first thing that you notice is just how neat and tidy his desk was, despite the numerous papers that filled it. there was a clear system in place, and it was the definition of organization, something that you could only dream of achieving. the next thing you noticed was the sheer amount of papers that sat upon his desk. geez, did he really have to read over all of that, on top of solving disputes between students? seiichiro was nothing short of a superhero. the final thing that caught your eye, and the one that you were most shocked to see was a familiar cute puppy keychain he had on his lanyard. 

“is that a cinnamoroll keychain?” you gasped, forgetting the fact that you had just interrupted the student president. if your captain or any other club member was there with you, they would’ve surely scolded you for speaking out of line, not that it even mattered at that moment. that fact slipped your mind however as you focused at how cute cinnamoroll looked. you were excited to have found another fan of the adorable mascot, though you really weren’t expecting it to be the rumored stern student president of all things.  

“hm? oh, you’re talking about this.” seiichiro took hold of the keychain and held it up so that you could get a closer look. he smiled at the mention of cinnamoroll, cementing the fact that he was a fan which only made you that much more excited. “i take it that you’re a fan as well?”

“of course! cinnamoroll and his friends are so adorable. who couldn’t not love those large flappy ears of his or that cute cinnamon roll tail?” you gushed, all your remaining nerves and anxiety vanishing as you talked about your absolute favorite character. all the rules of etiquette, or at least those used when talking to the student president, were immediately forgotten the moment you found out that he was a fan as well. you had a hard time finding other fans of the mascot that were around you since most people simply told you to grow up and to stop fawning over such a “childish character.” it’s not like you could easily stop loving him though, especially when he’s helped you through some of your darkest times. cinnamoroll was like a friend to you, and you couldn’t just abandon him. needless to say, their opinions really only made you feel bad about yourself, and your love for cinnamoroll only seemed to grow. but now you had found someone who you could gush about him to, and you could finally share your love for cinnamoroll with no judgement at all. “say, have you ever met him?”

seiichiro couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm. he loved it though. i mean, it’s not everyday that he found another cinnamoroll superfan, especially during school activities. from then on, he just knew that the two of you would get along really well, bonding over your love of the same mascot. “yep, i’ve met him many times at puroland.” he smiled as he recalled all the times he’s met cinnamoroll. those were all fond memories of his, and seiichiro never got tired of meeting him. cinnamoroll always managed to relax and reassure him that he could get everything done. with his workload, it got hard for seiichiro to continue on at times due to burnout, and visiting cinnamoroll was sometimes the perfect remedy (coupled with rest of course). 

“lucky,” you mumbled. you had to admit that you were jealous that seiichiro had gotten to see cinnamoroll before, and at puroland of all places! it was one of your dreams to visit it and stroll around the cinnamoroll area, topping it off with finally being able to meet him. but it was also so cool that you knew someone who knew cinnamoroll. plus the fact that seiichiro had such cool and cute merch made you slightly envious as well. seiichiro was just so awesome, unlike all of those stern and uptight rumors you had previously heard. how come no one ever told you that he was a cinnamoroll fan as well? you would’ve been able to befriend him much sooner if that was the case. “i wish i could meet him someday.” 

“hm, well then y/n, would you like to come with me to puroland saturday?”

it took you a good few moments for you to process what had just happened. was the student council president, the seiichiro minamoto, asking you out on a date? the handsome, cool, and dependable seiichiro; the one right in front of you? of course it wasn’t a date though, just a hangout between friends. but you were so excited at that moment that your brain didn’t register it as the latter. not only would you get to hang out with seiichiro, but you would also be able to meet cinnamoroll. it was killing two birds with one stone!

“i-i’d love to! if you don’t mind that is,” you exclaimed, the excitement and nervousness clearly heard in your voice. it had come out of the blue so it made you extremely flustered. “then we can eat at the cinnamoroll café too!! my treat.” you internally squealed as you thought of your cinnamoroll-filled day that you were to spend with seiichiro in a few days. there were many plans for it that were buzzing around in your mind, but you knew that you had to narrow it down to a few ideas. there was no way that you could fit everything into one afternoon. 

“sounds like a plan.” with another smile of his, you felt your heart pound and your face flush. how did you get so lucky as to snatch a ‘date’ with someone as cute as him? “let’s exchange numbers.” the two of you pulled out your phones and began adding each other to your contacts, messaging one another a simple ‘hi’ to make sure that you were talking to the right person. “we can meet up at the nearest train station from here if that’s alright.” 

“that sounds good!” needless to say, you were giddy about the entire thing, and so was seiichiro though he didn’t outwardly show it. a day filled with cinnamoroll goodness spent side-by-side by another fan was exactly what you currently needed. besides, it’d be a chance for the two of you to bond over a shared interest and grow closer to one another. everything about it was just perfect. 

you couldn’t wait until saturday came by.

[magicrobins]

“Is there something wrong with me?”

Hope you don’t mind the Dragon Age, this just gave me a lot of muse for my main Inquisitor. (I promise majority of the prompts you send me will be DC or demigods xD)

Galen Lavellan & Elaith Lavellan. Dragon Age dual AU. 2,804 words. Most under the cut. AO3. Mentions @bxtgrl‘s Aya Lavellan & @jellyfishlovesloki‘s Nova Adaar.

She found him in his room. He hadn’t bothered to lock the doors like he usually did when he wanted to shut the world out or shut himself in. As she walked up the familiar steps to the Inquisitor’s quarters, she noticed small changes. There was a custom made Blades of Hessarian banner that greeted her as she got to the top of the stairs. She remembered it had been a gift from one of the Heroes of Ferelden – Surana, she believed, the one Leliana had said liked to sew. The design held a unique combination of a Dalish and Ferelden feel. It was a redesign by the Hero, meant to show a new age for the Blades.

A new age for Skyhold. The rest of Skyhold was still in the process of changing. She remembered suggesting to keep things to same, but he’d insisted on changing it. As someone who was known to dislike change, to be bad at handling it, she’d been surprised at how vigorously he’d wanted it. She thought he was forcing even more change on himself than the events of the Exalted Council had already done.

The Inquisition was gone, disbanded. She’d been one of the people to agree that it had been time to end the Inquisition. The threat of spies – Solas’ spies – was a risk they couldn’t take. The ache of betrayal was still there, but it was slowly turning to hardened steel. Whatever hope she’d had of convincing Solas to come back, of telling him about their son – whatever hope she’d had of raising Varras with his father, she had to push that back. Their goal, clearly stated by both Galen and Aya, was to convince Solas that he didn’t need to destroy the world. But she also knew there was a chance that one of them wouldn’t walk away from what was to come – perhaps none of them would walk away, Solas included.

She knew she realized that more than Galen did. So she changed like Skyhold did. She steeled herself to keep her heart from breaking again. She needed to be strong for her son, Varras, and for her lethallin, Galen. This strength, this burden was one she shared with the others that had remained at Skyhold. Rasha, Arven, and Nova had joined the Blades. Even Ai, Zhen, and Bailey had joined despite staying on as Grey Wardens. It had been decided that the three Wardens would act as “ambassadors” between the Wardens and the Blades. She didn’t think the titles were needed, but she could tell they wanted an excuse to stay.

Bailey was interested in joining the Clan Lavellan she and Galen had discussed rebuilding. The clan would stay at Skyhold. Under Galen’s order, she’d even started discussing with Commander Surana the possibility of naming Skyhold an official Grey Warden Keep which would be put under the watch of the three Wardens already there. It was a way that they thought would keep politicians from touching Skyhold, from someone trying to drive them out. Because of that, the decorations adorning the castle had been changed to a mixture of Dalish, Warden, and Blades of Hessarian.

Somehow the combination managed to look more beautiful than chaotic to her.

But there were some things that couldn’t be touched. Josephine’s desk, Cullen’s desk, Sera’s room, Dorian’s chair… Solas’ table. The places where their friends had favored, where they would group together. Vivienne’s balcony was so far untouched. Elaith thought that soon change would come to those spots, brushing its fingers over them. Perhaps it would be for the best to put the Inquisition fully behind them. Skyhold had dealt with many changes in the past, if Morrigan’s tales were to be believed. Surely it could deal with one more.

But could he?

Elaith found him on the floor, curled up tightly, his back pressed against the side of his bed. The décor was mostly Dalish, aside from the Orlesian bed. He’d requested the walls be repainted with Dalish murals in his room, however each time she tried to get a painter in the room, they’d been thrown out. He demanded change yet change tore him apart. She may have been a spirit healer, but she knew she couldn’t heal this. She couldn’t heal a broken heart or a broken mind.

Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground, coming to sit next to him. Her eyes passed over his left arm – what was left of it, at least. He’d lost his hand all the way up to his elbow. Dagna had crafted a replacement, a prosthetic arm and elbow. He wore it now, despite everyone cautioning him that he shouldn’t wear it all the time. He hated looking at the scarring, at what he no longer had.

She remained quiet, letting him feel her presence rather than disturbing him with words. His head was lowered, hidden against his knees. She let her eyes drift over his appearance, noticing the changes. His wavy chestnut hair was longer than it should have been by then. She remembered the trip he’d taken with Nova and Bull, to a place called the Black Emporium, apparently discovered by some of Cullen’s soldiers a few years ago, back when the Inquisition was young, near Kirkwall. They’d embarked on the trip shortly after the meeting in the ruins of Haven’s Chantry, where they’d made some plans to stop Solas.

She was certain that Galen had planned on going alone, but at the last minute both Bull and Nova had insisted on joining him. It hadn’t been a short trip. The three of them had barely gotten back in time to say goodbye to what was left of the Inquisition – the former advisors and inner circle to the Inquisitors. She knew without a doubt that Galen had wanted to miss saying goodbye to everyone. She’d watched each goodbye shatter him. So had Nova.

Watching him break from the moment Solas had revealed himself to the final goodbye at Skyhold was hard on everyone who stayed. It was the hardest on her and Nova. They hadn’t discussed it, but after the first few days and nights – after the first sleepless nights, after the first couple times that he broke down, crumbled and sobbing and visibly hating himself – she’d faltered and shattered a little herself. She remembered sobbing in Nova’s arms, apologizing furiously for being unable to help him more, for failing him. She remembered Nova trying to assure her that she was helping, that she was doing the best she could. She was pretty sure she also remembered the qunari crying too.

Elaith had asked how the trip to the Black Emporium had been. All Bull had told her was that it’d been quiet, and it had taken her a few moments to realize that he meant Galen had been quiet. Even when he’d returned to Skyhold, his hair longer, cascading down his shoulders, falling over his face in an attempt to hide that defeated, shattered look he had worn since the Exalted Council, he spoke barely any words. He kept to himself and his thoughts. Those very same thoughts that she knew devoured him.

“Shouldn’t you be with Varras?” Galen’s voice cut through her thoughts and her eyes fell back onto him. He hadn’t lifted his head up, but rather rested his cheek against his knees so he could look sideways at her.

“He’s with Auntie Nova and Uncle Bull,” she explained, putting on a smile. “They adore him, and I think Bull’s still amazed that he can hold Varras in one hand–”

“They’re leaving,” his voice held that same sadness to it. It was almost a month and a half since the Exalted Council, since the Inquisition had been disbanded. It was only a few weeks since the last members of the Inquisition had left – since Aya and Cullen had left.

She knew who he was talking about, though. The Chargers had stayed in Skyhold after the Inquisition’s disbandment. Galen hadn’t asked why, perhaps afraid that if he questioned it, they would decide they wanted to leave. Elaith had inquired, though. Bull had a few reasons to stay. One, of course, was Nova. He wanted to stay with his kadan and respected her choice to stay by Galen’s side for now. Galen was another reason. Everyone in the inner circle had grown close to both Inquisitors, it was hard not to. And they all held a sense of protection over the Inquisitors, even if they were no longer Inquisitors.

Like everyone else, Bull could see the way Galen shattered. Like everyone else, he’d been there when Aya, the advisors, and the inner circle had told Galen, as gently as they could, that they had, not easily, come to the unanimous decision that they needed to disband the Inquisition. He’d been there to see the hurt on Galen’s face, and perhaps he felt partly responsible like she did. Perhaps part of wanting to protect Galen, to stand by him while he tried to mend himself, was also to try to make up for being a part of the decision and the fact that that decision had been deliberately made in Galen’s absence.

Elaith knew she still felt guilty for that. It wasn’t her fault, though. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. They’d been backed into a corner and had done what they’d had to. The Exalted Council had been breathing down Josephine’s neck. Galen and Aya had been deadlocked, one against disbanding, the other one saddened but knowing disbanding was the best decision. And it had been clear that one of them had lacked some rational thinking, and it hadn’t been Aya. Perhaps, if they’d had more time, if Galen had had more time to process all that had happened, they could have come to a decision as one instead of lacking one.

She wanted to ask if he was still upset about that, if he felt like everyone was choosing to leave him, to abandon him. Every time those questions rose in her mind, she found she couldn’t speak them. She was too afraid of the answers.

And now there was talk of a job offer for the Chargers. She hadn’t had a chance to ask Bull if it was true, and if it were, would the Chargers be taking it. And if the Chargers took it and left, would Nova go with them? Neither she nor Galen would ask Nova to stay behind instead of joining her kadan. Neither of them would ever ask her to choose between her friends at Skyhold and the man she loved.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Elaith finally replied. She met Galen’s bright emerald eyes with her own bright blue. Where his hair had been grown out – magically, she guessed, which made her want to visit this mysterious Black Emporium – she had kept her own black hair cut short, the same style she’d adopted after the Inquisition had defeated Corypheus, after Solas had left.

“I can’t ask them to stay,” Galen said softly. He shut his eyes tightly and let out a breath. “I can’t hold them back.”

She frowned faintly at that. She thought she could guess why he felt that way, but she wasn’t Cole. She couldn’t see into Galen’s mind. A part of her wished Cole was there to help. Perhaps he would have been a better choice to heal Galen than she was.

“I’m staying,” she pointed out, “Do you think you’re holding me back?”

He opened his eyes and looked away, burying his face against his knees once again. His hands, one real, one prosthetic, reached up to his head and tightly knotted his fingers in his hair. It was as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he grounded them somewhere and hoped they would stay.

“Am I?” was all he said after a moment.

She didn’t hesitate. “Of course not! If I didn’t want to stay, I wouldn’t.” She scooted closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Skyhold is my home, you’re my family. I’m happy staying here.”

That prompted more silence. She could only guess what he was thinking, what thoughts plagued him that he wished he could make stop. She watched the grip he had on his hair tighten. She imagined he was trying to quiet those thoughts but it didn’t seem to be working. His shoulders shook, and she realized he was crying. She moved quickly, gently pulling him into her arms, and adjusting her position so they could sit together comfortably. He buried his face against her shoulder, his hands now clinging to the sleeves of her shirt.

She tried to sooth him, one hand running through his hair, the other rubbing his back. It wasn’t the first time he’d cried in her arms since returning to Skyhold. She knew every time afterwards from the look on his face that he despised himself for breaking down so easily, for crying so often. No matter how many times she assured him that this didn’t make him weak, she knew he didn’t fully believe her. He felt weak and being told he wasn’t didn’t make a difference.

“Is there something wrong with me?” his voice reached her ears, broken and cracked.

Elaith closed her eyes, forcing herself to stay strong – to stay strong for him.

“No,” she forced her voice out, making it sound as confident as she could muster. “No, there’s not.”

He pulled away to look at her, tears still streaking his face, his expression contorted with pain. “Then why can’t I get better?” The words came out as a soft, agonizing demand. “Why am I still hurting?” He didn’t seem upset at her, but rather himself. He always appeared more upset at himself, at his life, than anyone else.

“Everyone gets better at their own pace,” she assured him, reaching forward and taking his hand in hers – not the prosthetic one as she knew he didn’t like people touching that hand, not yet at least. “Everyone handles things differently. A lot happened. You shouldn’t compare how you feel to how you think everyone else feels.”

“But I’m not just one step behind everyone,” he persisted, tightly gripping her hand as if she were an anchor and he was terrified of drowning. She realized he was terrified and he was drowning. He was drowning in his own thoughts, his own emotions. “I feel like I’m ten steps behind everyone at the least. I feel like I’m stumbling to catch my footing, but all that happens is I fall flat on my face.”

“Then let me help you up,” she spoke gently, her tone soft, almost pleading. She could use her magic to help heal his arm – her spirit healer spells were better than any generic healing magic he knew – but she couldn’t heal his heart, not fully. All she could do was offer him a hand when she saw he needed one.

“I shouldn’t need help!” he spoke quickly as if he was afraid that if he didn’t get the words out in time, he never would. “I shouldn’t need to – I shouldn’t rely on people so much. I know that I can always rely on you, on Nova, on everyone else, but I – I shouldn’t have to. I should know how to pick myself up… But I don’t! I try so hard, I really do, but I keep failing. And I’m just so tired – I’m tired of everyone needing to pick me back up. I’m tired, and I just need everything to slow down so I can catch up… So I’m not dragging everyone down with me. And I know you don’t feel like I am, but I feel like I am, and I can’t make that feeling go away!”

He pulled his hand out of hers and balled both hands against his eyes. “I just want everything to stop! I just need time, but – but I can’t get that and I… I don’t know what to do.”

He fell into her arms again, quietly sobbing. It took all of her strength to try to hold back her own tears, and even then, a few slid down her face. She didn’t know what to say. She felt helpless and useless. What good was a spirit healer when she couldn’t even heal her best friend? All she could do was hold him in her arms until he calmed down and became quiet. And after that happened, she remained at his side, holding him in her arms. She couldn’t think of any words to say that would help, so she gave him her company, and she prayed to whoever was looking down on them that her company would be enough because she didn’t know what she’d do if it wasn’t.