#i'm just a really lonely (silly little) person

[ominous-feychild]

CHARACTER INTRO:

RISING FROM THE ASHES

CARMIN LÉVÊQUE

(smugly) “Didn't you know? That's what I'm best at. Fucking up everyone else's plans.” - Carmin Lévêque

Daughter of Kestrel Lévêque, squire of Kieran Caron, and descendant of a dark god, Carmin Lévêque's name holds a lot of weight—very little of which she's earned.

But she hasn't let it get to her head—far from that, Carmin avoids mentioning it and tries her best to keep people from finding out.

The only problem?

Her reputation precedes her.

Or... not her reputation.

But the Lévêques'.

All of Kihroin are familiar with the name and its meaning—the god they supposedly serve—and, while they pay them their due respects, the citizens of Kihroin give the Lévêques a wide berth when and wherever possible.

Including Carmin.

Although... there are whispers on the streets.

Whispers behind closed doors.

Despite her reputation, despite her aura, and despite her name... Carmin looks very little like her brother or father. Carmin didn't engage with political matters like them. And Carmin didn't have the Lévêque magic like her brother, father, or his father before him.

And that was all of them—all of the Lévêques of time.

And yet Carmin alone, with so few similarities to the rest of her family, didn't have that magic?

It's just a silly little conspiracy theory, of course.

But why else would Kestrel—her lone parent after her mother's death years ago—keep her isolated from family events? Like he was ashamed of her? Like he hated her?

Who can say?

But everybody knows misfortune befalls those who whisper just a bit too loudly.

I mean, what else would you expect of a family who practices—no, specializes in—abstract, dark magic?

No.

Best to leave that be.

Besides, her brother—Roman—loved getting personally involved with those who gave problems to his sister.

There was no good getting involved with that cursed family.

The Woman Herself

That was a lot about her family's reputation, right? What about her?

What about Carmin Lévêque?

Great question. The answer?

People don't really care.

Within Lotus, Carmin is—quite simply—considered to be a bitch.

She's cold, she's curt, she ignores and pushes everyone else away, she doesn't fake niceties, and she refuses to engage with any political elbow-rubbing.

During missions, she's detached and doesn't socialize with her teammates. During classes, she has the audacity to coldly offer her own advice to other students while the professor is busy—and, worst of all, it's always right!

And, if you just happen to come across her when she's not in classes or working? “Leave her the fuck alone.”

Magic & Combat

Carmin has the ability to manipulate the gravity on objects, which she uses in a myriad of ways.

Most frequently, Carmin uses her magic to lessen the weight of her armor and weapons, allowing her greater dexterity and speed in combat. Similarly, she can and will drag down her opponents or their weapons, making them struggle to move or fight.

Carmin can also use her magic to forcibly levitate people and objects, removing them from the field (both offensively and defensively) and possibly disabling them.

... or levitating many objects, which she can then use to barrage her opponents with.

In conjunction with her levitation, Carmin most often uses throwing knives—which she can throw faster through the removal of gravity—or a bow.

Additionally, Carmin has barrier magic she's able to use to defend herself and others... as well as near-invisible stepping stones and walls to push opponents.

Appearance

Carmin is a Kihroihian (Fantasy!Mixed Country), 5'2 (157cm) woman of eighteen years.

She has tanned skin; straight, shoulder-length bobbed hair that's dyed black; a long face with soft features; and the signature Lévêque royal blue eyes... although it's speculated they were magically altered to be so or that she's wearing colored contacts.

Carmin has a wiry frame, a lot of muscle due to keeping in shape for her work as a squire, bags under her eyes from a frequent lack of sleep, and a resting bitch face. She most often has an empty or angry expression and holds herself in a way that implies arrogance or that she considers others beneath her.

Very shortly after the beginning of RFtA, thanks to being caught in the fires of Vemor, Carmin gains burn scars that warp the right side of her face, her right ear, and much of her right side—shoulder, arm, and bits of her leg, chest, and back—entirely.

Much of the right side of her hair was likewise burned off, but it's slowly growing back in its natural ginger color.

Personality & Motives

Carmin Lévêque is an angry, bitter woman who does little but work, train, and push other people away. She has little connection with her family—although Roman's protectiveness over her suggests a positive relationship between them... or him looking out for their family name—and spends a vast majority of her time focusing on her studies to become a knight.

Before first joining the academy, Carmin was a hermit who spent most of her time in the Lévêques' estate. Her existence was only known of thanks to her supposed identity as a Lévêque, and she only finally emerged (at age eleven) to join the academy alongside Roman.

Although she seems cold and uncaring on the surface, Carmin has a strong sense of justice and wants to make the world a better place. She claims her mother's death—which she witnessed to a burglar when she was five—is her motivation to stamp out evil, cruelty, selfishness, and corruption in the world. Despite her position, Carmin also attributes social issues and wealth disparities to the world's strife.

Carmin is extremely motivated, doing little but constantly building on her training to become a knight. She doesn't make friends, she doesn't party, and she doesn't network with others at the academy.

Except... she doesn't have a family she's sworn to outside her own. Roman is the knight to the crown prince, Elazi Adlani, and her father is the knight to the king, Riaan. Neither of them need knights, and none of them want Carmin engaged to Elazi or the second-born prince, Zain.

So what is she working towards?

What is she planning?

And where will she go after she graduates?

She has less than two years to figure it out.

Rising From The Ashes Taglist:

@honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@leahnardo-da-veggie @world-of-iridensia

Introductory Taglist:

@paeliae-occasionally @pluppsauthor @thelovelymachinery

(request to be added to the permanent taglist if you'd like to be! You will be dropped after a few introductory posts!)

Dividers made by @saradika!

[chrisbangs]

hi li I hope you're doing okay (obv not and I mean that in the NICEST way possible) I'm sorry you're going through so much shit with men and your mom and jobs :/ my abusive ex called me the same girls name twice when I was in my....relationship/situationship with him so! That was cool and he definitely fucked me up in more ways than one. As for the other stuff, I've been unemployed for a month now (for the second time this year!!!!) so I feel like my degree is useless and I'm doing something wrong cause all my friends are either in grad school or have stable jobs lmao 🙃 and then. my mom told me to smile more in public the other day so that men would talk to me but!! She still doesn't know that I'm a lesbian!!!!!! Lmao. Maybe this is weirdly personal and out of nowhere but I definitely still read your text posts and think about you so I guess I just want you to know that you aren't alone in having an especially Bad Time rn. But yeah. I love seeing your posts on my dash and I do read your tags and I hope things can start to work out better for you soon, you definitely deserve better. I hope this ask isn't too weird but I just wanted to send you some love 💕

dndkdmdmdmd 😞💗 it wasn't weird at all and i appreciate you and your kind words so much you have no idea!!!! sjsjksksks i feel like we're living the same life atp this is literally mirroring my life almost exactly 😭 i get you my dude... and i'm sorry you're going through some shitty stuff rn 🫂🤍 i really hope things do change and get better :(

honestly it's kinda crazy when everything sucks and nothing makes me feel better like damn 🫡 gonna just keep taking Ls and for whatttt like what's the pointttt 🤷‍♀️ it's just insane to me...

in any case 🫂🖤 this is me sending u a hug bud... i hope you're doing ok... perhaps we won't feel miserable forever but at least in any case i am rooting for you!!!

[beifongisms]

i feel like my brain has been hardwired to view other people as competition instead of possible friends and that’s just bs

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

[wikiangela]

It's a quiet evening, they're winding down after a long, exhausting day of work, just enjoying each other's company. They're on the couch, a cheesy romcom playing on the TV, Tommy's head in Buck's lap, Buck's fingers playing with Tommy's soft curls.

He's watching Tommy more than the movie. He observes his reactions, the soft smiles, the small chuckles, the eye rolls and scoffs - depending on what's happening on the screen. He's so beautiful and Buck wants to stare at him forever. And he gets to.

He beams, as he glances at his hand, still in Tommy's hair, where a simple silver band sits right on his ring finger, an exact match to the one on Tommy's hand, now casually resting on his stomach. Well, almost an exact match, the inscription on the inside just a little bit different - they both say their wedding date and the word 'forever' but they also have each other's names inscribed. Buck likes to take if off sometimes and just look at the words, trace his fingertip over Tommy's name, still amazed that this is his life, even after over a year of being married already.

So he observes his husband, eyes scanning all over, while Tommy's completely immersed in the movie, the romantic dork - Buck loves that he's the only one who truly gets to see this side of him. He's so cute and gorgeous, and Buck loves him so much and just can't take his eyes off him.

That's when he notices it, and a gasp breaks out of him. He can feel a huge grin pulling at his face.

"What's wrong?" Tommy immediately looks at him, a small concerned frown creasing his forehead. When he notices Buck smiling, worry turns into pure confusion. "Evan?"

"Baby." Buck says seriously, his fingers gripping a strand of Tommy's hair, as he announces happily, "You have your first gray hair." He's looking right at it, just a tiny, barely noticeable, silvery hair. It's there, and it looks beautiful, and Buck already kind of can't wait to see his husband get more of them.

"Okay?" Tommy's frown deepens, this time with amusement. "So?"

"So-" Buck starts, then shakes his head. It's stupid, it's just a hair, no big deal, everyone gets them eventually, it's nothing special. But in a way, it is. Because when they met a few years ago Tommy didn't have gray hair. Because in their line of work, and with their luck, with Buck's luck, seeing yourself or a person you love grow old is not always a given - and it's such a blessing. This, seeing a gray hair in Tommy's hair, combined with wrinkles starting to form on his beautiful face - it's an amazing sight. They're sharing a life together, growing older together, they're able to see each other go through all these changes, step by step, day by day, seemingly unnoticeable unless you pay particular attention. It makes Buck feel so grateful for this life he has, for his husband, for getting this chance. "Nothing," he says, fingers resuming combing through Tommy's thick curls, eyes still drawn to that lone gray hair. "I just love you."

"I love you, too, Evan." Tommy smiles that crinkly smile that makes the lines around his eyes even more pronounced. Buck has to lean down and kiss his lips, then the corner of his eye, making Tommy laugh. "What's that have anything to do with my gray hair?"

"I just really like the thought of getting to grow old with you. Of spending my life with you." Buck whispers, and sees Tommy's smile melt into that soft 'Evan' smile, reserved just for him.

"And you say I'm sappy," he responds teasingly, and Buck laughs. Oh, he loves Tommy so much. He looks into Tommy's eyes and sees everything he was just thinking about. He sees how Tommy wants the same things, how he appreciate those reminders, like a silly gray hair, of getting to go through life together.

He kind of can't wait to start going gray, too. To grow old with his husband.

[h5eavenly]

Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

・❥・Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader ・❥・Genre: Kind of (?) Villainous FL , angst, romance, smut , college au, enemies to lovers, very minor love triangle, slow burn, social media au (with written parts) ・❥・Synopsis: It girl, Queen Bee the most popular girl around campus Song Y/N was envied by everyone. She has it all, money, the looks and brains. After making a bet with her bestfriend Yeosang her life takes a turn to the worse, seeming to lose everyone around her she doesn't expect the only person to stick by her side to be her Ex-first love and long time enemy - Hwang Hyunjin. (The bet part is inspired by the k-drama tempted however nothing else is the same) ・❥・Warnings: contains mature themes minors dni, heavy angst, Vulgar language, swearing, kys jokes etc. Mentions of weight and disordered eating. Sexual themes and talks. FL is really mean and malicious at times (will get better ofc) , eventual smut. {will add more later if needed}. ・❥・Status: completed. TW = TRIGGER WARNING. W = WRITTEN PART. ・❥・ spotify playlist:

Profiles (Y/N's Friends) | Profiles (Hyunjin's Friends) | Profiles (Notable Cast)

⇀ One - Cheating Again.

⇀ Two - New Girl.

⇀ Three - I hate Her.

⇀ Four - The Beast Is Out.

⇀ Five - Early Birdies.

⇀ Six - What’s Your Problem?

⇀ Seven - Talking In Circles.

⇀ Eight - Just One Meow (TW).

⇀ Nine - Give Us A Chance.

⇀ Ten - Operation : Hwang's Pet.

⇀ Eleven - Why Is It Always Her? (TW) (W)

⇀ Twelve - Lock Me Up.

⇀ Thirteen - The Bet.

⇀ Fourteen - A little Too Silly.

⇀ Fifteen - I'm A Fuck Up

⇀ Sixteen - Wrapped In Regret (W)

⇀ Seventeen - On Some Me Shit.

⇀ Eighteen - Pink Flowers.

⇀ Nineteen - My One And Only.

⇀ Twenty - Make It Up To Me.

⇀ Twenty-One - Furry Convention.

⇀ Twenty -Two - Hello Kitty Can Get It.

⇀ Twenty-Three - I'm Human Too.

⇀ Twenty-Four - If Poetry Was A Person. (W)

⇀ Twenty-Five - You Got Me.

⇀ Twenty-Six - I Want To See You.

⇀ Twenty-Seven - It's A Wife Thing.

⇀ Twenty-Eight - Forever And Ever.

⇀ Twenty-Nine - Alpha Pheromones.

⇀ Thirty- Such A Waste.

⇀ Thirty-One - Wish you could stay. (W)

⇀ Thirty-Two - Yeji Come Home.

⇀ Thirty-Three - I'm Pathetic.

⇀ Thirty-Four - Drown me in your feelings.

⇀ Thirty-Five - Flickers Of The Past I (W)(TW)

⇀ Thirty-Six - Why Am I Always Thirdwheeling?

⇀ Thirty-Seven - Jin Is Missing !

⇀ Thirty-Eight - Only A Warning.

⇀ Thirty-Nine - I Need Him.

⇀ Forty- Permanently Scowling.

⇀ Forty-One - stupidly crazy about you.

⇀ Forty-Two - You're My Biggest Wish. (W)

⇀ Forty-Three - You're A Cute Slut.

⇀ Forty-Four - Because I Love You.

⇀ Forty-Five - Light Of My Life.

⇀ Forty-Six - Out Of Time. (W)

⇀ Forty-Seven - Everything Sucks.

⇀ Forty-Eight - Wifey Night.

⇀ Forty-Nine - I'm Sorry I Love You.

⇀ Fifty - Flickers Of The Past II (TW)(W)

⇀ Fifty-One - Long Lonely Dream.

⇀ Fifty-Two - you're so edgy and cool

⇀ Fifty-Three - I was made for loving you (TW)(W)

⇀ Fifty-Four - I believe in you.

⇀ Fifty-Five - i want to die next to you.

⇀ Fifty-Six - new adventures with friends.

⇀ Fifty-Seven - Who The Fuck Is They.

⇀ Fifty-Eight - i feel like a monstrous creature.

⇀ Fifty-Nine - this happens once every few lifetimes (w)

⇀ Sixty - Epilogue.

⇀ Things you might have missed..

・❥・Taglist: Closed.

[floydira]

₊˚﹒✶﹒trolls headcanons .ᐟ

brozone, creek & king trollex with a reader going through a breakdown, overthinking and panicking and how they deal with them.

note ; I somehow(?) accidentally deleted the person's ask for this. I don't remember exactly what they asked word for word. (I'm down on my knees apologizing to you rn, I'm so sorry anon 🙏) so hopefully based on my memory this is at least close to what you asked for. I also hope this headcanon is to your liking.

☆★﹒🎧 ﹐BROZONE

John Dory

erm. well. let's just say when it comes to dealing with other people's emotions, he's not really the best guy to depend on...

BUT considering he spent years by himself (and rhonda) with no other socialization, plus leaving his brothers behind and coming back to them after awhile out of conscious but seeing them nowhere to be found, he definitely felt lonely and HAD his own breakdowns before.

so he'd understand how you're feeling, or at least try to understand.

when he first saw you breaking down, his first instinct was to ask you questions "why are you breaking down?" "did something happen?"

if he doesn't get a reply from you, he'll respect your boundaries and not ask any further questions. he'll just focus on comforting you in the present, awkwardly patting your back and giving you words of affirmation that he thinks would work. like those motivational phrases or quotes online, maybe even those ones that facebook moms use.

if you do give a reply, he'll sit down next to you and hear you out. sipping a drink and lending his ears for you to vent. he'll keep quiet (internally, he's restraining himself from outing his own opinions on whatever you vented to him about).

In summary, he's a listener. If you let him voice his own opinions, he'll tell you his thoughts and views. more often than not, if he does give advice, it's probably best you don't actually follow them. I feel like he's bad at giving advice...

at least, he's got the spirit!

Spruce/Bruce

this troll has a wife and kids. I'm sure he's knowledgeable in comforting someone when they are breaking down or overthinks a lot.

if you're overthinking, he'll support you and keep you company but he's also honest that helps you actually evaluate your overthinking thoughts and not stress too much about them.

once you come to him looking vulnerable, he'll immediately try to soothe you by rubbing your back gently. yk like those back rubs that puts babies to sleep? yeah, he'll do that.

while he rubs your back, he urges you to take a deep breath and let it all out. so you do. unknowingly you ranted and ranted, every little detail spoken word to word. he just has that affect on people.

lets you know that what you're going through is valid.

once you're all done, he'll give you advice to ease you or if you're not looking for advice, he'll just comfort you until you feel better.

Clay

he literally is in a sad book club, he'll have the knowledge about it and how to deal with it. except...he's slightly bad at executing it.

he'll snap you out of overthinking by yelling positive stuff to you, that are actually...effective???

if you rant to him, he'll listen to you attentively and pat your head afterwards. it's just something natural that he does, honestly head pats are soothing ok.

if you're okay with physical touch, he'll caress your face while giving you actually reassuring words. (LIKE. have you SEEN him literally pinching and squishing branch's face when he first met him after 20 years?!) of course, it's effective, combined with his already nice vibe (I feel like he naturally has a healing presence, he's just a sweet little boring cutie)

his method of comforting you naturally makes you feel better. he doesn't have to try hard because just watching his body language and mannerisms are dorky enough that it'll make you smile. he's unknowingly comforting in a silly dorky way. even with how badly he persists to be a very "serious" guy.

he'll definitely give you a big warm hug after everything.

Floyd

he's literally called the sensitive one. out of the brothers, he's definitely the one who understands you the most.

I don't think I even need to explain, you already know how perfect he is with dealing with stuff like that. like the time he talked to veneer about how his sister treats him and how he shouldn't let her be like that to him.

his face is full of worry if he sees you in a vulnerable state.

he literally gives the best hugs, it's canon, I know it's canon.

this emo mf knows exactly the right words to get you out of your vulnerable state for a while (bc the phrases he gives to others are probably what he wants to hear given to him).

he'll be really patient with you and help you with every step along the way even if you're having a hard time changing your bad traits.

he's also attentive at listening, he'll caress your hands with his thumb with a reassuring smile.

he'll be really sweet at tackling your situation and never makes you feel overwhelmed.

will cry with you tbh.

he's kind of helping himself when he helps you, because he's similar in a way.

Branch

branch was quite the panicker himself during the times when bergens ate trolls.

so he'd also know how to help you deal with it because he understands you.

he had to figure it out himself and was mostly alone to deal with his own vulnerability so he's happy to help you.

he'll look calm, composed and collected externally but even he, himself is slightly panicking on the inside. afraid that he'll let you down or he won't be of much help. don't worry though, he has it all put together after a bit.

If you're panicking, he'll help you focus, calm down and ease your hyperventilation.

"concentrate on your breathing, okay?"

once you've calmed down, he'll provide you with reassuring words.

he'll keep you company and stay with you until you feel composed enough to talk about it with him. he'll lend you an ear.

afterwards, he pats you on the shoulder and gives you advice that worked on him before.

━━━━━━━━━━

Creek

as bad as he is, he's literally the best when it comes to relaxation. he has that zen-like wisdom, so he'll calm you down and help you relax if you're panicking or overthinking too much.

just like floyd, he also knows exactly what to say to reassure or cheer someone up.

he'll give you a more positive outlook on whatever happened to you so that you don't overthink it.

tbh his voice itself is enough to calm you down.

he encourages different methods and ways(that he knows of) to you that could help.

King Trollex

this sweet goober offers you all his emotional support.

he feels upset, if you're upset. he's all frowny when he sees you vulnerable.

"can I give you a hug?" ofc he asks for consent.

will hug you tightly (he thinks hugs are a remedy for everything, besides music), quiet sobs are heard as his face is smooshed against your chest. just like bruce, he'll also rub your back soothingly while hugging you.

Intertwines both of your hands and encourages you to put your thoughts into words so that he knows what's going on that head of yours that's overthinking a lot of stuff.

keeps eye contact with you as you rant to him.

"you can get through this." he'll say with his cute smile.

the most he can provide is listening and comfort. he wishes he could help you more.

[blindmagdalena]

imagine being hired by vought to be a sort of housekeeper to homelander, doing his laundry and cooking for him in his penthouse. he’d immediately grow to love having someone to come home to, and would automatically slip into husband mode whenever he finds them doing him some wifely act of service (conveniently ignoring the fact they’re paid to be there, of course)

ao3 link

Working for Vought, specifically Homelander, turns out to be an insanely simple gig. Typically, you never even see him. You're free to do your cleaning in peace, picking up after America's favorite hero. He rarely ever leaves a mess, but there's enough to keep you employed. Tidying up his towels, replacing his hygiene supplies and tooth brushes. You're trained specifically on how to clean his suits. You empty and stock the fridge. He goes through a lot of milk. You always make sure to get whole. He lodged a complaint the one time it was less than. You were told initially that your cooking services wouldn't be necessary. Homelander isn't known to be, well... much of an eater.

Still, you didn't want the food you stocked at the start to go bad, so one day you prepare a few meals and put them in containers in the fridge. You include little notes with instructions on how they should be reheated. You sign each one with a little heart simply because that's how you've always done it, and pin them to the fridge. You think nothing of it. Homelander is dumbstruck by it.

At first he's affronted that you would leave him cold food in his fridge and expect him to heat it up for himself, but there's something distinctly... loving about it. Coming home to his laundry clean and his shelves dusted never felt like that. It was nothing more than a reset, an automatic process that he didn't dedicate any thought to. But this? This is personal. This reminds him that a living, breathing person was in his home, tending to it, and that person... cooked him a meal, and left him a little note. With a heart.

The next morning you get a text that you will indeed be cooking for Homelander that evening! You're in the midst of it, staying later than you usually do, when he walks in the door. You aren't making anything fancy, just steak and mashed potatoes, but he sucks in a breath like he's inhaling the scent of a gourmet meal. His smile is broad and gleaming. It makes your heart skip a beat.

To your surprise, he introduces himself. He shakes your hand firmly, and holds your stare as you remember your manners and manage to spit out your own name. "Charmed," he says through that radiant smile, and you feel like he means it. His eyes are somehow much bluer in person. His gaze flickers to the stove, and he clicks his tongue. "Not to question your craft, but is this really enough for two?" Looking at the steak currently searing, you falter. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you having company? No one told me." "Well of course I'm having company, you silly goose. You're standing right here, aren't you?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips. It's cheesy, like a moment straight out of a sitcom, but you fluster anyways. This man has such presence to him.

"You... want me to eat with you?" You ask, bewildered.

"Be a shame to cook up a storm and not even feel the rain," he laughs, as if you're the one thinking strangely here. He's already gone to the fridge, and pulled out a second steak. He offers it out to you with that same charming television ready grin. "C'mon. I can hear your stomach growling."

Tentatively, you take the package from him. "Okay."

That night, and each night that follows, you cook Homelander a meal at the tail-end of your shift, and sit down to eat with him. It's surreal, but after the second night, it occurs to you that you've never once seen sign of him having company. There's never extra dishes, or towels. No remnants of a party in the trash. If he does have friends, they're certainly never here.

You can't help but wonder if he's lonely. The thought humanizes him from the larger than life image you had of him in your mind, and you have an easier and easier time engaging him in conversation. He's funny, if not a little strange. There are times when you don't really know how to respond to the things he says, but he often moves on quickly enough to keep things from being awkward.

Truth be told, you're starting to quite enjoy his company.

Homelander begins showing up earlier and earlier into your shifts. The next week, it's barely after 4:00pm when he strides through the door, greeting you with a chipper, "Heya!" and a little salute.

You turn off the vacuum, and despite being a little caught off guard, you smile at him. For the first time, you say, "Welcome home!"

For a second, you worry you've said something wrong. That smile slips off his face, and he stands frozen a touch too long in the doorway. However, before you can add an amendment, his lips stretch back out and he closes the door behind him. "Good to be home," he says. There's less of that showmanship in his voice, you think.

"I didn't know you'd be home so early, I haven't finished-" "Oh, don't mind me, you do your thing. Pretend I'm not even here," he insists, taking a seat on his couch.

You expect him to occupy himself in some way. A book, perhaps, or even just his cellphone. Instead, for the next hour you're keenly aware of the fact the only thing he seems to be entertaining himself with is you.

After that, you cook dinner as usual, and the two of you eat amidst pleasant, casual conversation. It's the same as any other night, and yet somehow this evening feels distinctly different. You can't name exactly what it is, but something has changed.

Homelander begins filling out your time with new requests; he's suddenly become quite fascinated with plants. You had mentioned to him before that you like to keep them, despite the work they take. Your shifts grow longer to account for your new tasks.

All the while, he's been more and more present during your shifts. Although he doesn't directly take or distract you from your chores, you're always keenly aware of of his gaze on you while you work. You try not to overthink it, but the weight of his attention is heavy nonetheless.

One day, you're sweeping up a mess of spilled dirt, struggling to maneuver around the legs of a piece of furniture, when Homelander hops up to intervene. "Let me get that for you, sweetheart," he says, lifting the entire cabinet up as if it weighed nothing at all.

You lose yourself for a moment, standing dumbfounded before abruptly remembering to sweep the dirt out from under it, your heart racing. Your mind keeps replaying the pet name, and with every echo of it, your cheeks feel redder. Homelander smiles, watching you all the while. The next day, you arrive to find an enormous bouquet of roses sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter. There's a note with your name on it, and a simple message: Thanks for all your hard work. Keep it up! The note is signed with Homelander's sprawling signature. Smiling widely to yourself, you tuck the note into your pocket, and lean in to inhale the sweet smell of the flowers. On another occasion, it's time to clean the blades of the ceiling fan in his room, but you can't find that darn step ladder anywhere. Homelander must hear the way you're shuffling around and muttering under your breath—you swear the man hears everything—because he steps in to check on you. "Everything alright in here?" He asks, peeking in from the doorway. "Oh, fine, fine, I just can't find my step ladder anywhere. Have you seen it?" You ask, feeling flustered. Getting put behind schedule never fails to trip a thread of anxiety in your chest. "Can't say I have," he answers, stepping inside. He looks around the room. "What'cha need it for?" "Ceiling fan. Uhm, it's okay, I'll get to it later, if that's alright with you? I'm sorry, I could have sworn I left that ladder-" You stop yourself, realizing Homelander is suddenly striding directly towards you. Uncertain, you begin to take a step back, but he's fast. He puts an arm around you, and without warning you're being hoisted up into his arms as easily as a doll.

"Up y'go," he says, supporting not only your weight with ease, but resting you snug against his chest. You squeeze your knees together, arms pulled in tight, as if making yourself tiny will somehow protect you from the embarrassing quicken of your breath, or the rampant beat of your heart. "There you go. Who needs a step ladder when you've got me?" He asks, grinning down at you with that familiar dazzling spread of pearly whites. His smile feels better suited to a Hollywood audience than this quiet little moment, but the only thing you can really focus on is the fresh, woodsy smell of his cologne. "Uhm, I-I still don't think I can reach-" You stop, noticing the ceiling fan is now within arms reach. "Oh." Looking down, your eyes widen. Neither of your feet are touching the ground. Instead, Homelander is hovering well above it, holding you adjacent to the fan. You can't help the nervous laughter that suddenly bubbles out of you. "Oh my god," you laugh, looking around. "You're flying!" "As I'm known to do from time to time," he says, voice dripping with satisfaction. His gloved fingers tap absently at your waist, basking in your awe over what is, to him, a wholly unremarkable feat. The sheer normalcy of you makes his every move seem a marvel. He savors your wonder. You're so enamored with the novelty of it, you remember belatedly why you're up here. Clearing your throat, you reach up with the duster, and gently spin the fan, collecting the strands of dust and the like that had gathered on each one. You try your damnedest to focus on that, and not the fact Homelander's face is less than a foot from yours. Out of your peripheral, you can see that his grin has softened into a content, absent smile. Your stomach does cartwheels as you finish dusting the fan, bringing the duster back down. You clear your throat again, pretending it's not a nervous habit. "All done, thank you," you say quietly, smiling back at him.

"Any time, sweetheart," Homelander purrs. There it is again, that coy little nickname that sends your mind into a tizzy. As if that weren't bad enough, he winks at you, floating gently back down to the ground. Your legs feel so much like jelly, you worry you'll collapse the moment you're on your feet. Luckily, even once he's set you down, he leaves a hand lingering on your back. "You got a thing with heights? Your heart's pounding," he points out, much to your mortification. You try to laugh it off. "Oh, no! No, just wasn't expecting it. I'm fine with heights," you say, fumbling with the duster for a second before slipping it back into the cover. "Good," Homelander responds, an oddly cryptic depth to his tone. His smile lingers. "That's good. Alrighty, I'll leave you to it," he says, tipping his head in a polite little nod before he heads for the door, leaving you to your own devices, and the rapid fluttering in your stomach. Later that same day, you're thoroughly perplexed when you spot the step ladder exactly where it's supposed to be, certain you had checked there a dozen times over.

Two weeks from the day you first shared a meal, he presents you with a gift after dinner. "Oh, sir, you shouldn't-" "Please, please! Don't be so formal. It's just a little thing," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Y'know, to show my appreciation. You take such good care of me. Just wanted to return the favor." Butterflies swarm rampant in your gut as you tug loose the pretty red ribbon tied around the box. Uncertain of what to expect, you feel a measure of relief when you lift the lid, and see a lovely apron folded inside it. "You wear this print a lot, figured you could use something, you know, matchy. Feminine," he says, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Your other one's seen better days."

You exhale a soft laugh, touching the fabric. It's soft beneath your fingers, and of excellent quality. The gift is a thoughtful one, and it feels appropriate, despite what the expensive looking wrapping made you think. "You like it?" He asks after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I do! Yes, thank you. It's very nice. I've enjoyed working for you, sir—" You stop when he points a finger at you, his brows raised, and you correct, "—Homelander." He smiles, dropping his hand. "And eating with you. I can't say any of my other clients cared whether or not I ate," you say, chuckling. You think you see his nose twitch strangely at the mention of your other clients.

"Right, well! C'mon, let's see how it looks," he says, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you over to the mirror near the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. Homelander takes the box from your hands and presents it to you, allowing you to lift the apron up and let it unfold. Odd, it feels a touch heavier than you expected. You sling it around your neck, but before you can reach back to tie it, Homelander has taken it upon himself to do it for you. He cinches it at your waist with a sharp little tug, grinning at you from over your shoulder as he meets your eye in the mirror. "Loooook at that, perfect fit," he purrs, tying the ends off. "It's beautiful, thank y—" Smoothing your hands down the front of it, you stop. There's something in the right pocket of the apron. Glancing up, Homelander has a mischievous glint to his expression, but his brows raise, and his lips curl down. He's playing dumb.

Curiously, you slip your hand into the pocket, and feel smooth velvet against your fingers. Wrapping your hand around a firm rectangle, you draw it out, and feel your stomach flip as you stare at the distinctly luxurious looking black box now in your hands. "Oh, geeze, totally forgot that was even in there," Homelander says. His tone is terribly unconvincing, but he does sound very pleased with himself. "Whelp, you've already accepted, so I guess it's yours now." "I—" "Go on," he urges, giving your shoulders a little shake. He's watching you eagerly through the mirror. "Open it up. It's all yours."

Swallowing, you crack the box back on it's hinges. Your jaw drops, your chest tightens. You stare at the shimmering three-stone drop diamond necklace in utter disbelief. You don't even feel Homelander let go of your shoulders, or hear him slide off and drop his gloves to the nearby table. "Oh my god," you whisper. You probably couldn't afford the box this thing was sold in, let alone a single stone on it. "I don't think I can accept this, sir," you say, slipping back into the habit of formality as your brain struggles to catch up to reality.

"Oop, too late for that," Homelander dismisses, plucking the delicate necklace up from the fabric it lay in. "Here, allow me," he says, ignoring your shellshock while he drapes the necklace against your skin, his bare fingers brushing the back of your neck as he gets it fastened.

Breathless, you tentatively touch the bottom diamond. Your mouth feels full of cotton, and your heart is racing. Is this really happening?

Meanwhile, Homelander grips your upper arms, beaming. "Look at you. You know what they say about diamonds; they're a girl's best friend," he laughs, those canines of his looking sharper than ever.

Giving your arms a squeeze, Homelander leans close to your ear. "Happy two weeks," he whispers, the heat of his breath on your neck prickling goosebumps all the way down your spine. "Thank you," you whisper back, pushing out a bewildered little smile.

Homelander lingers there a moment, the warmth of his hands on your arms seeping through the fabric of your shirt. His smile has relaxed some, and his gaze is slightly distant as he looks you up and down in the mirror. You see a flash of pink as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue. It isn't until you clear your throat that his eyes snap back up to yours, regaining presence of mind. "I should get going," you say gently. His fingers flex on your arms, and the corners of his mouth twitch. "Right," he says, lips pulling into a thin smile that doesn't reach his eyes. This is always his least favorite part of the night. With obvious reluctance, he drops his hands from your arms. "Right, ah, let me—" "Unless..." You interject, turning to face him. Homelander's brows shoot up to his hairline. He blinks. "Unless...?" "Unless you'd like me to stay," you say quietly, your stomach tying itself in knots. "Not as your housekeeper, but maybe as just... Company?"

"Company," he echoes, his parted lips slowly drawing into a smile. This one does reach his eyes. "We could watch a movie."

"I like movies," you say. The words sound dumb to you as soon as they leave your lips, but Homelander looks at you like you've just spun a beautiful sonnet. "Great, I have movies," he says, putting a hand on your lower back as he gestures you to the living room. His smile is broad now, eager and a touch boyish. You feel a little surge of endearment amidst the adrenaline. "What do you want to watch?" "Dealers choice," you say, slipping out of the apron before you take a seat at the couch. Homelander immediately busies himself with the television, flipping through Vought+'s enormous repertoire.

Still in a mild daze, you don't process any of the titles that fly by on the screen. Instead, you're hyper aware of the weight of the necklace hanging from your throat, and the lingering heat that Homelander's hands left on your skin.

So much for a simple gig.

[kysuguru]

dear mother — stsg x fem!reader

synopsis : you’ve finally enrolled into jujutsu tech, sad thing is, you’re totally clueless.

includes / cw : emotionally abusive mother

all mine masterlist

a /n : ch1 of my “all mine” series!!!

"i'm ogawa [name]. i'm from sendai japan. please take care of me."

you bow politely. smiling at the tiny class of three as you rise, posture nervous and stiff.

"if i knew there was someone new i would've thrown a welcome party!" a white haired boy who's eyes are protected by circular black glasses exclaims excitedly, a smile big on his lips. you admit you're a bit intimidated. the idea of a party for you seems a bit over the top, though.

a boy on his left scoffs almost affectionately, the soft look he sends to his counterpart familiar to you. you always looked at the street cats like that, your mother as well (you try not to think about it). he has a bang over his left eye, you wonder if someone has ever tried to tuck it behind his ear.

"there's no need for a party. my arrival can't be that exciting," you chuckle shyly.

they all analyze you. so you settle with looking at your shuffling shoes.

"she speaks so formally." the gojo boy leans over with a hand cupped around his mouth as he whispers to his best friend, causing you to look up. it's a bit silly that he's acting as if he's whispering a secret even though everyone can hear him.

his friend eyes you apologetically.

there's another girl, the only one who seems actually interested as she stares you down. you flinch as you catch her gaze. her hair is short, in a brown bob that frames her face perfectly. her bangs are tucked behind her ear and there's a mole you catch on her face that convinces you she's model worthy.

other than your mother you've never thought a woman was so pretty.

"so new girl, what's your cursed technique."

new girl.. but i swore i said my name. did i not?

ignoring the white haired boy's lack of manners was easy, since you weren't all that aware he was being rude.

"i actually... don't know."

all three students chorused at the same time.

"hah?"

scouted? me? when you heard such a thing, you were confused and honestly, really surprised. you weren't talented by any means. outside of studying you didn't have much going on. not only that, but your mother kept you in the house a lot. so to hear of someone from jujutsu tech finding you worthy enough to attend had you blinking, astonished.

you were aware of what jujutsu was, cursed techniques and all of that jazz, but your knowledge was still limited beyond that. your mom was adamant on you not attending for reasons she refused to tell. obviously you didn't push. you never liked seeing her with a temper.

the man who recommended you was named yaga masamichi. he'd taken note of the significant amount of cursed energy you possessed when passing by you on your way to school. your family weren't jujutsu sorcerers from what you were aware of — you honestly weren't even sure that there were jujutsu sorcerers or people like you until now. but you'd never put it past your mom to hide something like that from you.

she always kept jujutsu related talk under wraps, only giving you little information to quell your curiosity.

you didn't even know what your cursed technique was. or if you even had one. even though you tried to understand why she does what she does, it still felt very lonely — seeing such heinous creatures and having to pretend they didn't exist for your own safety.

if it weren't for the fact that you instinctively learned to control your cursed energy output, you could've been in serious danger.

and although it was painful to go through such things alone — not being able to confide in a single person — you understood why your mother did it. all she wanted to do was keep you safe.

and even if you followed all of her rules of no jujutsu to a T, you couldn't help the sensation of excitement and relief knowing that there were so many other people out there just like you. a school of them, even.

you wanted badly to be upset with your mother, the fact that she knew about all of this and kept it from you. but even the thought of being angry at her when all she wanted was to protect you had you pushing down those foolish feelings.

other than secretive, your mother was also very stubborn. a trait that you always admired until this very moment.

she argued that you didn't belong into a school that was practically a death trap for young teens. always listening to your mother like an obedient puppy, you looked down at the floor, preparing for the inevitable rejection, expression sad as you shuffled your shoes alongside your mothers that were planted firm on the ground — you resisted the urge to distance yourself from her.

your eyes drifted to the shoes that were yaga's hoping no one would question your silence (they never did).

your mother wasn't a bad person. never that. but sometimes you couldn't help but get upset at the decisions she made in your stead. you wouldn't say that she didn't consider you, but sometimes it kinda felt that way.

"i get where you're coming from. jujutsu tech is a dangerous place and i hate to bring such young talented kids into such risks. but you have to understand your daughters side," he gestured towards you, your mothers eyes dropping to your head that perked up before they glared back at yaga.

"how do you think she feels knowing she has the opportunity to branch out and gain knowledge about these abilities. do you think she wants to stay ignorant because you do?"

your ears rang as the last sentence was spoken.

"do you think she wants to stay ignorant because you do?"

it resonated with you in a way you couldn't comprehend. all you could do was clutch your chest as a foreign feeling of relief left your choked up throat in a bated breath. the exhale feeling as if you were being freed from something. being seen.

"[name], my sweet darling baby," she caressed the top of your head. it was instinct to lean into her touch, even though at the moment you couldn't sort out how you felt towards her.

she's protecting you. the words whisper in your ear, like a disease that is incurable, like a predator that sinks its fangs and refuses to let go.

"mommy wants you to stay home with her. please consider it. it's so dangerous out there, and i really don't want you to get hurt," she cooed. it made you feel sick and you hated not knowing why. even though her words were meant to console you, they only made you want to run.

your eyes were glued to the dirty mat that you and your mother refused to clean, maybe because it was the most familiar thing in this constant changing house. there were five pairs of shoes, you, yaga, and mother and two unworn pairs off to the side, both meant for other occasions, better ones. ones that don't include the ringing of your ears and the well of your tears as they collect on your lashes. maybe it's an occasion where you're at a nice dinner with your mom, a rare treat whenever she deemed herself in the mood.

the bigger pair of shoes shifted. yaga.

"miss ogawa. i don't mean to overstep, but have you considered you're babying your 15 year old child? maybe you need to consider that she can make her own-"

"don't you dare tell me how to parent my own damn child." her voice is dripping with venom, the venom that seeps through you and whispers in your ear.

i just want to protect you.

your mothers anger was never a calm one, it was loud and furious, voice bouncing off the walls as she tried restraining herself from getting violent. so hearing her talk to the man in such a familiar tone had you quivering in her hold.

your mother, never under the assumption that she could ever be the reason you were upset, deduced that your shivers were caused by yaga.

so she glares, long and hard, and her lips move to form the words you were dreading, "my daughter is not attending your shit school. get out of my house.”

...

other than the sound of life beyond the door, there only laid cold, anxious silence.

you were afraid to look up, your mother's shirt being your only anchor. but from the resigned sigh that left yaga's lips, you were well aware of the expression he was making — one of anger, and disappointment. realizing that seeking you out was a waste of his time.

or so you assumed.

for he could only look at you in pity, acknowledging how painful a relationship like this must be for you, and in longing, hoping foolishly that he could lend a helping hand.

a rough calloused hand entered your vision, a piece of ripped paper in the grip of his fingers.

yaga gestured it towards you patiently, a look of sorrow marring his usually calm expression. "if there's a change, please call this number."

your mom ripped it from his grasp right before you could touch it. she crumpled it in her hand. "there won't be a change. now get the fuck out of my house."

you could only stare in horror at your mothers fist that held the only thing that could possibly change the trajectory of your life. even as yaga bowed and turned around, even as the door slammed shut behind him. even as mother soothed you with quiet coos meant for a baby, even as she turned towards the kitchen to start on dinner, even as she sat you down and commented on your silence. even as she watched you absentmindedly pick on your food, even as she started to become agitated at your lack of response, and even as she treaded up the stairs to her bedroom. your eyes stayed glued to that one hand.

you blinked, eyes dry and mouth parched as you suddenly remembered that you weren't at the front door anymore while your mother cradled you in her arms.

your eyes drift to the front door, and you approach it slowly. you don't know why you stand there or why your hand touched the door knob.

maybe it's because you're hopeful that the man is behind this door. waiting patiently for you to open it, prepared with the words of acceptance. maybe something amongst it that helps you figure out what the hell to do.

"a school of them." you whispered, the only thing capable of leaving your dry mouth.

there was a school of them. proof that you really weren't alone in this cursed world. how could you possibly go back to the difficult life of acting as if everything was normal when it wasn't? blue auras were around everybody, and the grotesque creatures festered from the negative feelings surrounding those people. and there were those out there who knew how to get rid of those things for the sake of others.

knowing all of this, you couldn't stand by and not lend a hand, not learn to control the one thing that's burdened you your entire life. but..

you looked up the stairs, seeing just the top of your mothers door.

what would she do? she needed you. you both took care of each other, you couldn't leave her behind.

but you needed this. you wanted to figure all of this out. control theses abilities and hopefully get to know people who were just like you. and... you could always come back.

yeah.

who said you had to stay? you would go, go to jujutsu high, reach your goals, and return to your mother.

because even though you may make friends with those of similar backgrounds to you, your mother was a constant in your life, never changing. you couldn't abandon her. you wouldn't.

so with this new resolve in your heart, you snuck up to her room. she kept her door creaked for unknown reasons, maybe to keep an eye on you, but you ignored that and thanked its convenience for this very moment.

she was asleep. snoring.

you treaded carefully over to the bed, eyes focused on the bags growing under her lashes. the sight made your lips twitch into a small frown. you delicately tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. listening to her steady breathing as she dreamt the night away.

"wait for me, mother.”

you turned away and grabbed the piece of paper off of her nightstand, leaving the room with a sense of urgency.

you dialed yaga's number after locking your bedroom door, pacing around in circles as the phone rung. the ringing resonated in your ears like a ticking clock. you didn't really have time. if he wouldn't answer now you'd never get your chance.

your mom was an early bird and you could already feel yourself getting drowsy.

"i mean. who even calls this late. he might be asleep..." you whisper defeatedly and pull the phone away from your ear to hang up, but it lights up with his icon and you jump in excitement.

"miss. ogawa?"

"masamichi-san. it's [name]."

Dear mother,

I've departed, something I'm sure you noticed. As much as I wanted to obey you, I couldn't just abandon the opportunity that could help change my life for the better. I know you were trying to protect me, and I know that it's dangerous. But I can't live knowing that my life could be different. I can't just sit by and watch this spark of light dim, let my world go dark again. I'm not like you, mother. I will not stay ignorant. Wait for me, please.

I lov-

a loud shrewd rip echoes through the quiet house. your mother's eyes are dull, face empty as she starts furiously ripping the paper to shreds.

she suddenly screams out in anger, tears of frustration bubbling and blurring her vision. she grips her hair in agony as she starts chanting curses.

"dammit dammit, dammit!! i told her it was dangerous. i told her. damn her!! good for nothing daughter... not listening to a fucking word i say!!"

your mom stomps angrily out of her room, not caring for the small pieces of paper she tramples over.

"I love you,"

"mother."

[hkruu]

“ME & YOU?” — hkr

\\ soft yan streamer bf , mod!user , silly fic for y'all , obsessive , implied stalking in the past , implied doxxing //

Akira likes streaming with you.

You both started with meeting each other through an rpg game, agreeing to become his mod, becoming friends, and then meeting in real life and falling in love. It was a normal cliche love story about two gamers falling for each other in your point of view, what about Akira's point of view?

It remains a secret.

You always wondered how he knew all of your favorite things right off the bat, how he knew your awkward gestures, your hobbies and all of that. Maybe he was just really attentive to the things you did..

Akira wasn't a stalker.

He's sweet, he always takes care of you, putting your wants over his. Both of you communicate when something goes wrong, you balance everything. It was a perfect and a normal relationship.

At least that's what you thought.

hkruu: what r we playing today !!

Not_venti: wsg chattttttt

xX_AMI_Xx: r u playing with ur s/o?

yurisghs: hi akiraaaa [akira_pat]

fatgirlsummer: when's the continuation of Until Then ?? ^^

"Until Then? Uh, I mean, probably next week." Akira's eyes glanced over the chat box, watching as many viewers greeted him with good afternoons and nights. "My significant other?" He raised his right eyebrow curiously, reading aloud one of the questions.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if they'll be able to make it on time.." Akira leaned back on his gaming chair, stretching a little.

killlove_i: nauur why [akira_sob]

Not_venti: skibidi will make it on time trust.

tsukasaaaa: I hope they're well ><

cutiepie101: COOP PKEASE !!!

"I'm probably just gonna farm today, not unless Lisa invites me again." He smiles towards the camera, loading up HSR. "I'm not pulling for uh, rappa? The new character I mean, I forgot their name."

llyyyn: lol same

yurisghs: is she good? Ion look at leaks

Not_venti: I'm pulling:))

lamanbrug_01: goodluck to those pulling!!

sdkwohryuu: I want Sunday [akira_sob]

"I want Sunday too.. physically.." Akira pouts, eventually breaking into a silly smile. The rest of the stream going fine as usual, farming here, doing the new quest, companion quest, pulling for Fei Xaio, you know the rest.

A good hour and a half passes and suddenly there's a;

Ding!

"Hey chat, guess who's home!" Akira suddenly brightened, focusing on the game even more as he patiently waited for the same sentence he always heard every single day. Of course, he'd never get tired of it, never.

"I'm home!" A muffled voice could be heard in the background.

Not_venti: I TOKD U THEYD MAKE IT OJ TIME

xX_AMI_Xx: I js woke up whay happened

yurisghs: caught my lonely ass smiling

yumiwgeo: can't relate @yurisighs

Not_venti: LMAO

"You'll find someone yurisghs!" He snickered, quickly exiting out of HSR and logging onto Genshin instead, the familiar bright screen never failing to blind him.

nnsigma [MOD]: hi chat

Not_venti: hi skibidi

yurisghs: halooo

lynnuoo: wsg

yumiwgeo: [akira_wave]

tsukasaaaa: [akira_wave]

"sup babe, yes I ate, I drank water, I showered, I cooked lunch and I did the laundry." Akira's smirk was evident, quickly doing his commissions in-game. If you're wondering he mains Neuvilette.

nnsigma [MOD]: ok good [akira_pat]

nnsigma [MOD]: let's play dti instead ong

Not_venti: real

Guihimoo: [akira_nod]

"No."

About the said ‘Akira is probably just really attentive’ towards you.. let's expand a little bit on that.

The first time you met each other at a nearby Cafe, you were surprised. The pictures of Akira on discord didn't do justice to what he looks like in real life, this guy was walking around as if he just came out of a red carpet..

Aside from that, his personality was still the same as online. Teasing, snarky, he's still got that attitude, and of course playful — he was the fun type you'd want to be friends with. But, he really was your type.

You couldn't resist glancing towards his neck from time to time, hell — you couldn't even make eye contact without being mentally flustered. "Is something wrong?" He'd ask, but you'd immediately shake your head and go along with what he's saying.

I mean, Akira didn't know your address, why are you asking why he knew the way back to your home? He used to live here.

"W-woah.. we have more in common than I thought!" You beamed while Akira smiled softly, it looks like his hard work did pay off. All that late night searching, perfecting and practicing — it was worth it in the very end because you were finally here.

Akira could see you, touch you, feel you, make you feel things you've never felt — ah, how he wishes he could go back in time just to see your horrified expression when you almost got doxxed by someone anonymous.

Of course, he was the one to comfort you at the time, the way you opened up to him about everything, finally letting him know of your feelings.. It was worth every little thing he had worked hard for.

It didn't matter if he had a small or huge fan base what mattered was you being right beside him, experiencing hardships and hope. Akira could do anything, he could try his best — he's not perfect, he has many flaws he'll admit that.

But..

It was worth it if it was you.

Akira was glad that the world hasn't ended yet. Not that it would happen any time soon but — he'd want to be next to you even if it was a life or death situation.

Extras:

"I'm rating you 1 star for the effort. You suck." Akira tapped on the tablet aggressively, while you squirmed right next to him, trying to desperately get your phone case back on — fumbling quite badly.

"I'm rating you 1 star too!"

"You're just mad I'm a trend setter."

[yayll]

Could you maybe write smth up. About literally spoiling Dazai. Because i want to sit him down on the couch and kiss his pretty fucking face and buy him everything he even glances at.!! Hold his hand on walks, take him to like roooftops to stargaze and stuff and just stare at his PRETTY AHH FACE instead. Kiss his forehead goodnight!!! Cook him stuff and cuddle him and kiss him (again)!!!!....

Im lonely and past the point of no return sorry shdkhdkfjf

HIIII there, angel! i'm so sorry this took me a bit, but umm... i kind of went insane with this concept i read your ask and i immediately just blacked out because oh do i feel the same way about this god forsaken man.. and HEAVY on the spoiling. ahh, i hope it's to your liking, and i hope it makes u feel less lonely :') it was such a pleasure to write my first request xx

~ a little something about cherishing Dazai on days he needs it the most ~

Spoiling Dazai. Now there's something you can proudly admit to being happily guilty of. You couldn't count the times you've held him for hours after a terrible day at work, or made sure he had more than just canned crab and a few bottles of Sake. You'd do anything for him to be comfortable in his own skin, and you want to make sure he knows how much you adore him... that he knows he's allowed to take up space in the world too. You're also aware that he would rather die than to ever elaborate on the vague and dismissive little comments he makes about the debilitating weight of all of his past mistakes, the ones that make him resentful and tired when it really gets to him, but that never deters you.

You've put the pieces together long enough to understand that it's not easy being Osamu Dazai, no matter what silly mask he puts on for the world. He hasn't always been a good person, an exemplary man, and you're more than well aware of that. Still, he doesn't have to be the jester who's always entertaining the masses at his own expense.

You remind him that he isn't cursed forever, that he IS worthy of flesh and blood, and when you kiss him it's like you're absolving him of all sins... you make him new again. He is utterly bewitched by you and you feel it in the way he comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing your waist just enough to let you know your warmth is the reason his own blood circulates. Or when he whispers the most silliest and unhinged things in your ear late at night so you'll curl up those precious lips into a smile... Just for him. He gets off on the happiness he gives you, simple as that. He already feels he doesn't deserve to hold on to such a good life, but he's nothing if not defiant, and he'll squeeze out every little bit of love within that void of a heart for as long as you'll have him.

But... Today is your turn to love him so much it actually hurts, It's what he gets for being a menace 24/7! That is why you chose to make sure he has an extra special day today, by bringing him out of his comfort zone with a... mystery date!

"Oh? And to what do I owe the pleasure of being courted by such a beautiful creature such as yourself on this fine day?"

Dazai sips on his tea, eyes narrowing as they peer at you from the teacup curiously. You flash him a cheeky grin, already plotting your mission to make him so flustered he can't even look at you later.

"I thought we could go out somewhere and spend some time outside... Since we've both been so busy lately. Wouldn't that be nice?"

He raises a brow, and gives you a knowing smile back. Dazai's freakishly omnipotent in that way, and it's one of the many reasons you can never truly know if your surprises land or not.

"Mmm, it could be. Where to, my love?"

"... It's a secret."

He then pretends something has hit his chest, and he grips it, dramatically throwing himself back onto the chair causing his tea to flop about in the teacup.

"Oh my, is today the day you finally take me out and end it all?! I don't know if I can take the deceit, the absolute betrayal... What an occasion-"

You cut him off with your index finger as you place it right on his lips, zipped tight and his eyes burn into you, waiting for your next words. He eats this shit up.

"Shush! Let's go."

And with that, you grab your coats and zoom out and into the day. It's one of those days where It's cloudy, but the sun still peaks out just enough to send down warm rays of light. As you walk hand in hand, you see the way those very rays hit Dazai's side profile in the most devastating way.

You want to take a photo but you don't want to ruin the moment, so you quickly tip toe and peck him on the cheek, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. He blinks for a few seconds, still facing forward, and you swear you can see the highs of his cheeks turn red. You end up tugging him to follow you to the park, smiling to yourself in triumph as he recovers.

You walk to a quiet part, and plop yourselves down next to each other on the soft grass. Still holding hands, you rub your thumb in circles over his bandaged fingers, silently looking up at the cloudy sky. Finally, Dazai is the one to break the silence.

"Love used to always be an empty four letter word to me, but you..."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard as he tries to feign composure.

"... You are, by far, my greatest love, and my most beloved weakness altogether."

You were supposed to be the one to sweep him off his feet today, now your vision is blurry and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You slowly sit up, and look down at him, noticing that his eyes are closed. He looks like a sleeping beauty. Your chest aches, and you wonder if this is the same type of ache he lives with on the daily. You murmur, studying the way his messy bangs frame his face, and his expression unreadable.

"That's not fair, Osamu..."

"You sound so pretty when you say it like that... Osamu."

You swallow hard, and curse him in your mind for being the man that he is. For being all you've ever yearned for. You look down at your watch, and check the time, heart beating wildly.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

"... It's fifteen till 5."

"Mm, why does that matter?" Dazai purrs as he squeezes your hand, eyes still closed.

"It always matters. Any time with you matters. You matter, Osamu."

You spend the rest of the evening nuzzled into one another, whispering secrets and trying to name constellations and giggling when you can't figure them out. He lets you kiss him silly, his eyes closed the entire time while you also toy with his hair and the nape of his neck; where you smooth over the soft fabric of his bandages and his skin, giving him goosebumps. Your touch is a sensory heaven. He's dreaming of you while awake. You'll always wake him up from the nightmares, from what cannot be undone.

When it gets too cold to stay out, you head back home and cook him whatever he asks for as he rests his chin on his palm, gazing at you with those unreadable dark eyes... always thinking too much. Always somewhere else. This time, however, you could tell he was present. He would eat sewage if you poured it for him with that loving manner of yours. You finally crawl into bed together, and Dazai cradles your face in between his hands, facing you. He mumbles, so soft.. so tender. It's a tone only you get to hear.

"It really is selfish of me to think I can have this and more."

"Desire isn't bad, Osamu."

"Mm, no, I suppose not. But it's not always wise to have desire, not for someone like me. I can't afford that."

You hear the genuine ache in his voice, and you lean in to kiss his forehead, a gentle kiss that stays planted for a few seconds before you pull back.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing, love?~" He whispers, his voice a little strained as he looks at you with those eyes, those beautiful and endless orbs of cosmic proportions that are going to consume you one day. Hopefully.

"I think so. I'm being selfish."

You smile faintly, and you proceed to make sure that you end the night the way he deserves, the way you wanted to spoil him.

[heartfullofleeches]

Creep Yan meets the sweet angel that is Clown Darling-

It was an accident. They swear it to their grave.

A left instead of a right somewhere down the twisting, spacious corridors of the convention center. They could've sworn they followed the receptionist's directions down to the letter, but playing back her voice in their head they're starting to believe she just made up whatever she could to get them to leave. What should have led them to the hall holding the annual concert for their favorite idol group had in actuality brought them to a another venue with an entirely different type of star.

The clown's smiling face was plastered on every wall. Children and young adults of all ages walked in hand with their guardians wearing the same face paint or best imitation of the entertainers outfit they could readily obtain. There were others closer to their age, but none as out of their element as them. Collectors exchanging priceless goods: bonding over favorite moments from what sounds to be a show. Is this what they're like with people who share the same interests? When they're apart of the crowd it feels normal, but how could a kid's show have such an effect on grown adults? They feel like such an outcast - and they know others know they are too. They can hear the words behind every stare throw at them.

"What are they doing in here...."

"Creeps like that are exactly what it's difficult to bring kids to public events."

"Freak."

They stumble through the booths, searching desperately for the exit they lost sight of shortly before realizing where they were. Tears obscure their vision as they collapse next to a row of chairs left out for guests. The concert had to have started by now and at this raise they'll never make it before the doors close. They finally had the chance to see their favorite group in person and now it was gone. Why did they ever think the universe would give them a opportunity for better after an eternity of hell. At this rate it would be better to just go home....

Hic....hic...

Soft cries bellow from the body sitting next to them. They wipe at their eyes with a striped handkerchief, careful not to smudge their face paint. From their mismatch shoes to their brightly colored clothes it was easy to pin them as another cosplayer, but there was something more... authentic about their wear. They cry silently into their hands without spilling a tear.

"Are....are you okay?"

The clown looks up at them, sighing heavily. "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sad because you're sad. I've seen so many happy faces today and you're the first I've seen upset. It's enough to bring a tear to anyone's eye."

They tighten grip the strap of their bag. "I... can go somewhere else..."

"No, no!" The clown bounces to their feet and takes their hands - startling them. "I'm not saying that because I want you to go away. I'm saying that because I want to make you feel better, silly! Why don't we start with you telling me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing.... You don't want to hear about stuff like that it's depressing."

"Hm... can I at least try to make you happier?"

"You can try..."

"Great! Repeat after me."

The clown clears their throat as they kneel.

"When I'm feeling lonely, or think I just might frown. I think think a thought that means a lot and then I feel less down.

The clown's smile reaches the painted circles on their cheeks. "Its the song I teach all my new friends. Now you try!"

"When I'm feeling lonely...."

"Or think I just might frown."

"I think a thought that means a lot."

"And then I feel less down." The clown squeals as they clap they hands together. "Yay! You did it! And very well if I may add. How do you feel now?"

They pause for a moment, lips moist as they think about their mother's chocolate cake. There's still a slice left in their fridge. "A little better...."

"Now, tell me a thought that makes you feel better."

"Well... I really like listening to music...." Their smile is gone as soon as it came. "I actually came to see a concert today, but I got lost...."

"Concert? You mean like those sweet girls next door? Haha, you can hear them right through the walls? I guess it is difficult with all the screaming kids. Come on, I'll take you!"

They place their ear against the wall. Sure enough, music and the roars of the crowd blare through the structure. They cup their hands around their ears to hear better and decipher if their favorite song has already played - yanked from their seat before they can properly make out a single note.

"Come on, Come on!"

The clown giggles, clutching their hand as they skip and excuse their way through the crowd - promising younger guests their full attention upon their return with a quick hug and a free sticker. It's all the time the person they drag with them has to recuperate before being pulled along again.

"Wait... please... I can't...."

"We're here!"

Catching their breath, they look up to see the still open doors of the concert hall as people pour in and out. The bouncers stop a few of them to inform them of the doors' closing in five minutes. They made it... They actually made it... Tears of happiness catch in their lashes, sweeped away by a striped cloth.

"Are you still sad? I know you missed the opening act, there's still more..."

"No... These are happy tears... Thank you.. Thank you!"

The clown's laughter reaches the deepest depths their heart. "Anything for a friend! Come see me again if you're ever in any trouble..... Oh! I almost forgot something!"

The clown reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small, plastic badge. They pass it over to their new friend who inspects the smiling rainbow and letters engraved into it.

"Y/n the clown's helper of the day."

"That's a little token I give to the best of my little helpers..." The clown lends in, covering their mouth with one hand as they whisper. "Don't tell the kids - I give one to everybody."

They reach into their bag, grabbing their wallet. The clown quickly stops them.

"It's free, Silly! If you wanna pay me back, just have a good time, okay?"

The clown winks before walking off back to their hall - but not before passing out stickers to the bouncers who thank them for it and the water bottles they brought earlier. The dumbfounded individual they leave behind looks down at their hand - then the open doors of the concert hall. They sheepishly reenter the venue they came from, approaching the first merch with physical discs they see.

"Hello, I'd like to buy a copy of all available seasons you have."

[feartoxinjelloshot]

clipsverse SWAP AU! for fun! character elaboration under the cut because it gets kind of wordy:

selina's deal is pretty straightforward: she has the typical “saw parents die as a child" backstory, but she’s obviously not a millionare so she’s operating out of some kind of condemned underground parking lot... somewhere. authentic gotham grunge i guess. she’s a functioning alcoholic and i am obsessed with her. she's a hardboiled detective like batman, but tends to be a bit more cynical - sort of like if rorschach from watchmen was a normal person and also didn't hate sex. firefly is her "guy in the chair" similar to what alfred is to batman in canon, minus the surrogate parent part, obviously. public opinion is pretty split on if the bat is a man or a woman under there. i don't really have swap ideas for the robins ironed out, but i'm thinking that cass and stephanie are her robin and red hood equivalents (cass being dick, stephanie being jason). cass would have an allblack bird theme going on, so she might be "crow" or "blackbird" instead of robin. dunno what stephanie's red hood rendition is like. purple hood? i'll figure it out eventually.

bruce’s parents are alive, but he has a terrible relationship with them and with his own wealth so he mitigates the guilt complex by dressing up as a cat to steal and redistribute resources to people who actually need it. he could probably do that in daylight but there is something very wrong with him. i don't think his dumb slutty playboy persona is entirely genuine even without his parents' deaths, but he does lean into it more and incorporate parts of it into his vigilante persona over time. i think this version of bruce is just generally very lonely under the surface. he tries to be normal in his daytime life and he's very bad at it - theft aside, in a certain sense being the cat(man? woman?) is his own break for freedom; he felt a need to plunge himself far into the deep end of what normal society calls a 'freak'. ...writing it out like this, we're probably lucky he didn't start killing people. fortunately batman isn't really that kind of guy in any universe.

meanwhile on the other side of the rails: ivy! her deal is slightly unformed right now due to the fact that the hatter and the joker also swap places in this au - so the hatter is a dangerous, evil mastermind intent on controlling gotham to suit their whims, and the joker is... just a harmless silly little guy. yeah. i don't have swap-hatter's exact personality ironed out yet, so detailing his and ivy's dynamic would be difficult, but i can say that while she is his loyal second-in-command at his table of advisors, she is also plotting against him. ivy is a consistent loner in both mainline cv and here, and while she doesn't have the same tumultuous, antagonistic, emotional relationship with him as harley does with the joker, she is also frankly not interested in being his number one until the end of time. she wants to do it herself and she wants to do it right. this is an ivy who, in lieu of her own world-altering gift, is scraping tooth and nail to successfully supersede the most powerful entity she can her her hands on. the hatter is blissfully unaware of this - we can't all be perfect.

harley, for her part, is very tame in comparison. she mirrors ivy's canonical backstory pretty closely: an esteemed scientist studying stem cell relations who was denied funding, mocked, and forced to experiment on herself to prove a point, unwittingly connecting herself to a worldwide hive-mind of plantlife. this version of harley, while still dressed as a scientist, is far more surface-level emotionally volatile than mainline ivy, more impulsive and irrational, and probably willing to lean much farther into the classic poison ivy reputation as a villainous seductress, to varying degrees of honesty and success. it takes ivy an incredible degree of patience and control to maintain the mental and physical balance she strikes with the green, and this version of harley has far less of both. she lets it use her body as a conduit of earthly rage and she lets the poison infect her skin and organs until mottled and decaying. she's not unhappy, but she's not exactly stable, either.

jonathan is a mysterious, faux-sleazy lounge singer who lost his left arm to a snake bite infection as a child and thereafter became obsessed with the symbolism of the balance of life via games, tricks and questions - winning and losing, birth and death, etc. the ouroboros is a common symbol in his theatrics. he possesses a certain degree of social confidence that the mainline jonathan has never quite been capable of - while he doesn't have the same fervent need for attention as edward, he takes a compulsory delight in the mental influence he achieves on small crowds and will employ many avenues to get ahold of it. he's certainly not outgoing: he keeps almost entirely to himself offstage, uninterested in fame outside of his show persona. unlike mainline jonathan who views the scarecrow as a genuine self-inflicted diety, this jon sees his persona as more of a mantle or responsibility that he must take on in order to discover new truths about the world. like his canon counterpart he is asexual and uninterested in sex, but i imagine that he has less qualms about leading people on as an act to get what he wants from them. he's not terribly famous in his singing career, but he's become a bit of an underground legend for his resolute 1920s-inspired style and occasional genuine debonair charm.

edward in comparison is not nearly as ritualistically compelled as mainline scarecrow, but he’s far less cagey about his own machinations and his mental relationship to them: he lives in a tricked-out barn somewhere on the far outskirts of gotham, and he spends his time as a propmaster creating elaborate saw-trap-esque haunted houses and escape rooms to invoke panic in his “guests”. he wanders the halls of his own houses along with the guests, repairing and tinkering, or just scaring the shit out of them. he also makes a genuine living by making and selling cosplay props and other related objects online; he's developed a bit of an internet presence through this channel, though he's not as fixated on it as the mainline riddler would be. he still craves spectacle and attention, but he's more of a "quality over quantity" guy according to his own standards and is rarely happy with the work he creates, hence the endless roundabout of creation and reinvention.

[dr-spectre]

I know she's not ur skrunkly but she's mine- can you gush abt frye for a bit? I like frye yaayy ,XD just talk abt her idk free pass

If Callie and or Marina didn't exist, then I know which character in this franchise I would become obsessed with.

I think what makes Frye so lovable is that she has range! At one moment she's a silly little girl, a badass with style, or just a plain ol' hot woman.

I want you to look at this and tell me "nah that ain't hot." If you do then i know you're a massive liar and you should not be trusted, EVER!

I mean just... LOOK AT HER!!!! She's gorgeous!!! "Oh but her forehead-" IDC!!! IT'S GETTING SMOTHERED IN KISSES!!!

God i love her, i love her voice, her singing, her personality, her dynamic with Shiver and Big Man. It's all some good shittttt!!! When she's in songs, she's usually the part that gives a song that extra energy and flavor. She's VITAL to some tracks, if Three Wishes didn't have her then that song would be way worse.

Frye is also an underdog and i think everyone loves to root for an underdog. Seeing the love and cheering when she won another Splatfest in over a year was a fucking magical moment in the fandom and i won't forget the joy and happiness i felt seeing her FINALLY win!!

I'm also interested in the potential she has for future stories, especially relating to her family for which she has a lot of love for and we still have a lot to learn about. I think exploring themes relating to families and seeing Frye's siblings and grandfather would be really really cool for Splatoon 4!!! Maybe they could explore Frye's parents who weren't there for her as often when she was growing up, which left Frye feeling lonely and she helped form Deep Cut as a result due to her loneliness and longing to make friends. I think it would be really sweet and amazing to see that for our baby girl Frye.

Providing that Nintendo doesn't drop the ball and decide to do push all of that character exploration aside for a a certain arc for a 3rd time.... You know what I'm talking about...

I will have hope, because it's good for my mental health.

[normal-person-i-promise]

that onigiri you like

reigen arataka/reader

Arataka scours the onigiri aisle, running everything under his careful, though sluggish eyes, looking and searching and scouting, and... Right there!

He reaches for one for himself and one for you, and his hand moves so fast that he finds himself having brushed it against someone else getting that same flavour. He huffs in annoyance, looking up to apologise, and—

Oh. It's you.

★ ★ ★

Arataka waves off the last clients with a wide smile that doesn't reach his eyes, thanking them for the hefty tip as the door closes.

Lonely. It's very lonely.

His smile disappears the moment they can't see him as he roughly counts the money, flapping the bills in his hand, and halves it; he pockets the bills in his left, and the bills in the right, he puts into the saving box he has hidden.

You had an off day, and Mob had needed to go home. Arataka had taken a later job — just a simple massage — and it's late enough to see the warm orange streetlights spilling through the blinds as he flicks the lights off, the dim stars in the sky twinkling as they dance across their inky black stage.

As Arataka locks the office door, he argues with himself. He should really go and eat dinner.

...He doesn't feel like it, though...

The night air is chilling as he walks down the silent grey pavement that almost seems to swim under his feet. Arataka's walk is accompanied by nobody other than his shadow, and his footsteps form a steady drumbeat on the sidewalk that helps keep the silence at bay.

Not that it's quiet. He can hear the rumbling of cars as they rush home from work, hear the excitable crowds in those overpriced coffeeshops and cafés. There's the lingering scent of the cars' exhausts, the warm smell of hot foods and cold beverages leaking out from the shops.

He's thinking about you. You mentioned you always go to this convenience store, right? Maybe he'll go there.

"Oh, Reigen, the onigiri there are to die for," you'd said excitedly on a particularly slow day in the office. Your eyes had sparkled in the afternoon sun, your hair shining in the golden rays.

God, you're pretty.

"You should pop by one day! The staff are friendly, and, if I'm lucky, I can get you a discount," you'd said with a wink. "I'm friends with one of the cashiers."

Arataka rolls his eyes at the thought. Silly you, with your endearing voice and adorable excitement, your cute little smile and your addicting laugh...

He clears his throat. No need for those kinds of thoughts, yes? Especially not for an employee?

This is highly inappropriate behaviour, he's aware. So scandalous — a boss falling for an employee, giving this special little worker extra perks, like attention, jokes, extra leeway...

He can't resist.

He thinks about you as he walks. He thinks about how you'd go on and on about that onigiri, and how often you'd ask him to go to dinner with him. He knew it was usually just because he'd pay, but... It never really felt that way. It felt like you were less coworkers and more friends, maybe even more than that.

He likes those dinners with you even more when Mob wasn't around. He likes it when all of your attention is on him, all your laughter caused by his fumbling hands or quick-witted jokes, all your jokes made for him, and only him. It feels so... So personal, so intimate, like a...

...

No.

As he walks, he stares up at the night sky. The stars, tiptoeing and twirling against the black, are barely visible from all the light pollution. The moon is a crescent, hanging beside the dim stars and casting a glow on the grey clouds besides it.

He hums.

The streetlights cast an artificial golden glow onto the cold concrete of the sidewalk, and Arataka's shadow is spindly as he walks slowly, slowly, taking in the view with fatigued eyes.

Half-lidded are his eyes, and slow is his gait — though behind his scattered gaze, his mind is running rampant with thoughts of you. He physically cannot conjure a thought that isn't related to you in some way, shape, or form, and he shakes his head as though it'll rid his brain of you.

The lights remind him of how warm, both physically and metaphorically, you are, with a smile as bright as the sun, the shining moon holding slivers of your twinkling eyes. The wind that combs through his hair reminds him of your hands, as gentle as a summer breeze, the soft music he hears from the cafes and restaurants reminding him of your voice, as silvery and sweet as song. He hears shreds of your laugh in the excited chatter of the late-night partiers, and he almost falls flat on his face as he thinks of the noise.

He shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts, though to no avail.

He stops in front of a brightly lit store, and it looks just as you'd described. MOB MART is written in bright LED lights on the front, yelling the store's name in the loudest font that was available.

He straightens his tie and smooths down his suit, trying to look at least a little bit presentable — you said you knew one of the cashiers, after all.

Pushing open the door, a gentle ding-dong marks his arrival as Arataka scans the shelves with a tired gaze, looking for the legendary onigiri you'd been singing your praises for. His shoes go click, click, click on the smooth floors, the shuffling of his hands in his pockets annoyingly loud.

They have the usual: coffee and other cold beverages in bottles and metal cans, chips and junk foods in noisy plastic packaging, bentos and instant ramen in shiny clear plastic boxes, etc etc etc. Nothing much to note down.

He looks carefully, looking, looking, looking, and... There! He spots them — a handful of flavours of these onigiri about the size of the palm of his hand, their seaweed crispy and their fillings typical.

You'd mentioned your favourite flavour, right? Like... Tuna mayo? Hah, as if he could forget anything you'd say.

Arataka scours the onigiri aisle, running everything under his careful, though sluggish eyes, looking and searching and scouting, and... Right there!

He reaches for one for himself and one for you, and his hand moves so fast that he finds himself having brushed it against someone else getting that same flavour. He huffs in annoyance, looking up to apologise, and—

Oh. It's you.

He yanks his hand away in a manner that probably looks way, way too suspicious to you — and combined with his flushed cheeks and the perspiration beginning to bead on his forehead, this is not a good look to have in front of you.

He clears his throat, clearing his cheeks in tandem.

"Reigen!" You say, a little surprised and a little excited. "Finally checking out the onigiri, huh?"

He swallows thickly, smiling nervously and nodding. He'd better get himself together before you start suspecting things — from your boss, no less.

He reaches for the onigiri just as you do, and that small, tiny brush of your skin against his sends a jolt of electricity running through his body. His cheeks redden, his eyes going wide.

Arataka does (though as fast as he can) manage to get the onigiri he wanted — salted salmon. Different than the one he wanted just now.

"So... So, uh, what are you doing out so... Late?" He asks, casting his gaze briefly to the glass doors, looking at the dark night sky. The two of you walk around the store for a little bit more, just looking at things with no intention to buy.

"Oh. Ah... Just a late dinner, I suppose. I was too caught up in that series," you reply, a grin in your voice. You bring your eyes back to the onigiri in your hands, the packaging wrinkling.

"...Though it's more like supper now."

He nods, then it's quiet again.

It's... Nice, being around you in such a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft music playing on the speakers and the click-click-click of your shoes on the polished floor.

When you both put down your things to pay, Arataka brings out enough money to buy both.

He grins, clapping a hand on your shoulder — and that makes you feel a jolt of that same electricity go through your body, a redness rising to your cheeks.

"I'll pay, no worries," he says coolly, his tone calm and collective.

Oh. Okay. That's nice.

He opens the door for you.

As the two of you walk out of the convenience store, you stand in the dark parking lot — it's not so quiet now that Arataka can hear your breathing, and it's not so lonely now that he has you for company.

You unwrap your onigiri, making the plastic crinkle and the tearing the tape as you pull the clear packaging off, settling the crispy seaweed and plump, white rice more securely in your hands.

Arataka poses an idea — a risky one, he'd wager, though not the kind of thing you'd say no to. It's reasonable, too; it's something that friends do for each other. You two are friends, right?

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself.

"You want me to walk you to the station?" He offers, his tone polite and cautionary as he, too, unwraps his onigiri, the noisy plastic wrapper crumpling loudly as he balls it in his hand.

You take a bite of yours, thinking.

"...That'd be nice, yeah," you reply in between greedy mouthfuls of rice and tuna, smiling as you chew.

He smiles — and god, is that cute — and begins to follow you wordlessly, as though it's a normal occurrence to him. He really, really wishes it was.

As the two of you walk, there's the sound of the two steady drumbeats of your footsteps, the shadows of two figures merging to move as one. It's not nearly so quiet now, especially since Arataka is shoving the onigiri down his throat like a starving man, chewing noisily and swallowing bite after huge bite.

You half-laugh as he messes up his face with soft grains of rice and shreds of seaweed.

"Wait, wait, Reigen, lemme get that for you."

He pauses, turning to face you and almost jumping when you reach for his face, his knees going all weak and wobbly (like a lovelorn fool, he thinks scornfully) when you cradle his face so, so gently, with that touch of yours he just can't get enough of. You wipe off the rice bits he'd gotten all over his face, caring for him enough to make his hands shake and his heart race.

His cheeks are definitely red now, assuming they weren't already. His eyes dart about here and there, avoiding your gaze.

Cute.

He takes his head out of your hands, shaking it as though trying to get rid of those... Wretched thoughts he has for you. You watch in amusement.

He mumbles a quick and embarrassed thanks as he resumes his walk.

The walk continues on without much fuss. It's a cold spring night, the sakura in full bloom — though they're more of a subdued, muted pink now that they're bathed in the warm streetlights and kept dark under the shadowy cloak of the night. They're still pretty.

It's really chilly, though. You find goosebumps running uncomfortably on your skin as the two of you walk, and you bring your arms up to hug yourself unconsciously.

Arataka notices this.

"Need this?" He asks teasingly, unbuttoning his — HIS — suit jacket and laying it over your shoulders before he lets you reply.

Oooh, it smells just like him... There's salt in some of the pockets, a strong scent of incense, and the pleasant, sharp smell of that expensive cologne he'd always mention he wore.

Your cheeks flush.

"Thanks, Reigen," you say sheepishly, smiling at him politely with pink cheeks, and— oh god, oh man, does that make those butterflies flutter and his thoughts race—

He clears his throat, nodding in reply.

At this point, you're still eating your onigiri. Arataka had practically inhaled his (much to your amusement), and is now walking in silence beside you.

Slowly, slowly, gradually... He edges closer to you, close enough for him to smell the floral shampoo you use, close enough for him to smell the sweet laundry detergent on your clothes.

His hands shake, his thoughts running at a mile a minute and the butterflies in his stomach ravaging the lining. You're so... Close. You're so close, and you're so warm, and... God, okay, keep it together.

His arm brushes against yours as you walk. It's such a small, tiny thing, barely even felt, but it sends such a sharp jolt through his body that he has to hold it within himself from pulling you close and... Giving you that same, fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He really, really likes touching you.

"So," you begin awkwardly, like you're trying to fill in the silence as you adjust Arataka's warm jacket on your shoulders. "Did you like the onigiri?"

You'd just finished yours, crushing it absentmindedly in your hand as you gesture to his. It's in a small, crinkly ball in his tight fist.

"Ah, um, what?"

He brings his gaze to where you're pointing.

"Oh. Oh. My onigiri, ah..."

He hums, bringing a hand to cradle his chin in thought.

"...Good. It was good."

He smiles at you, and you smile back.

"Would you eat it again?" You ask.

"...Definitely."

You take a moment to think of a reply, and decide to go in an interview-like fashion. You're going to interrogate him.

"And why did you like it, exactly?"

"Hmm..." He hums, stroking his chin in thought.

"The rice was fluffy and not dry. The portion and distribution of the filling was also really generous, and," he taps your nose with a finger, "it just automatically tastes good because you like it."

You let out a little half-laugh, and Arataka allows himself a triumphant grin.

"Is it one of your favourite foods, now, or is it just onigiri for you? Did it change your life, in other words?"

He scoffs, shoving you with his empty hand playfully. You're really cute when you try to make him laugh.

"Oh, come on. You think some rice and salmon is going to change my favourite foods list just like that?" He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.

"I'm a man of class and taste. I'm better than having such a flimsy opinion."

You sigh. "Are you sure it wasn't that good? It was that good for me."

He lets out a little laugh. "I'm sure."

"And that was your honest opinion, right?" You ask, "no sugar-coating, no lying? You con-man?"

Arataka huffs in annoyance, kicking you with his foot. "I am not a con-man, I'll have you know — I am a respectable psychic! One of the best in the field, as a matter of fact! I am not—"

He catches you mockingly miming a talking mouth with your hand, and he reaches and grips your fist shut with his. An impulsive move, though it's enough to send a heat rising to your cheeks.

"And those are pretty bold words for someone who is being employed by this so-called 'con-man'."

"And about your question!" He changes the topic quickly. "I am not—" he tightens his grip on your hand and shakes it —"a liar! Though, I must admit..."

A grin spreads across his face. "Maybe I should've been a little meaner."

You shove him as an attack, and he laughs, letting go of that soft, soft hand. You're so cute...

"No! No, Reigen, why? Did you really not like it that much?"

Arataka chuckles, dusting off the place you'd placed your warm hand on his shoulder when you'd shoved him.

Before he can reply, you cut him off.

"Not like I was forcing you, anyway. You could've just spat it out if you didn't like it."

And he sighs. "That would be mean to you, wouldn't it?"

He shifts so he's walking just a little closer to you. Butterflies ravage your stomach. "And I liked it, anyway. One of the best onigiri I've had in a while."

You grin pridefully. "I have the best taste in things." Arataka nods.

It's not a long time before the two of you arrive at the station you'd been walking to. He follows you, almost diligently so — his shiny black shoes play a steady tap, tap, tapping beat echoing through the stairway, blending nicely with the sounds of his grey suit rustling and the general noise of the station.

You can hear distant trains in the background, impatient patrons waiting on benches and in convenience stores, the sounds of the city night life — lives infinitely more complex than yours in every shoulder you brush against and every face you pass.

Quiet. It's really quiet, though not in the way your ears would ring — it's quiet in the way that it's comfortable; there's a lovely background noise, though it's not so overwhelming you'd feel like crying, but it's not so quiet that it risks you hearing Arataka's racing heart or shallow breathing. It doesn't feel awkward, either, and it doesn't feel like either of you should be talking. It just feels... Nice. Like how things are supposed to be.

You take a seat at the bench, and Arataka follows. He sits... Far, but close at the same time. The urge to pull you into his arms is almost strong enough to make his chest ache.

He's... Not subtle in the way he stares at you. At all.

...

A minute or so passes before your train arrives, grinding slowly to a stop on the tracks. You get up.

"I'll be leaving, yeah? See you tomorrow at work."

You get up, almost reluctantly, pushing yourself off the seat and bringing yourself away from your crush's employer's company. It's a difficult battle, all in all, and your pace is much too slow and your strides are much too short when you begin walking towards the train's doors, sliding smoothly open and letting the cold air-conditioning flood the train station.

There's a second set of footsteps behind you.

Arataka. He's following you. He follows you into the train, and before you can ask him why, you need to hold on tight to the freezing metal handlebars and move aside for other patrons until you can find a seat.

"Ah."

He stares at you awkwardly. The two of you are close — very close — it's enough to smell that sharp cologne he always wears, and it's enough to make his heart rate skyrocket through the roof.

His body heats. His cheeks flush a pretty shade of red that's hard not to stare at, and his stomach tightens.

"You're going on the same train?" You ask, struggling to keep the excitement from being so near him out of your voice. He swallows, deciding every and any reply would be bad, and just nods in response.

"Are you switching trains?"

He pauses. Does he need to switch trains? He can barely think when he's so near you.

He nods again. "L— later on. At the..." He points to a station on the display whilst mentally cursing himself for stuttering. "...Thyme Station."

More people are rushing into the train, and the two of you are forced to stand almost near enough to touch.

It's driving him insane.

It's silent between the two of you again. The doors slide shut, and there's no warning when it suddenly jerks to a start. Everyone gets shaken — even if it's just a little bit — and others adjust their feet to be more stable, or shift so that they're seated comfortably in their seats.

You almost fall on Arataka. He grabs— he grabs your arms and steadies you. He. He's grabbing your arms?

The train slowly picks up speed, the scenery outside the window turning to a multicoloured blur, the trees and the buildings and the cars and the people all blending together to form nothing more than smears of paint. It's much more stable now, and it only shakes a little bit; you could let go of the handlebars. It's enough to stand still with little instability.

Arataka still grips tightly to your arms. His hands are shaky and his palms are sweaty, fingers digging into you a little bit.

"...Reigen?"

He jumps at his name being called by you, and he immediately lets go, mumbling apologies as he does.

"Sorry, sorry, s— sorry, uh—"

He clears his throat in vain as his cheeks gain a pretty reddish hue. Yours do, too.

It's cold and quiet. You find yourself adjusting Arataka's coat lying heavily and warmly on your shoulders, making sure it's settled nicely on you and it's covering the coldest spots and he stares at you for a while, a little awestruck by how cute you look, before smiling and nodding. He hopes it looks normal.

...The train ride goes a lot faster than you want it to. You're in that comfortable silence with him again, blankly staring out the window as you focus on keeping your breathing steady. Everyone's sitting down or standing quietly, taking up as little space as possible.

When the train stops, you almost fall over again — and Arataka holds your upper arms again. You're almost entirely certain it's an excuse to touch you.

He smiles at you, nodding as the doors slide open. Your station.

You push your way through the crowd, and wave goodbye as the doors shut.

It takes Arataka a moment to register that he just touched you, twice, before his face goes beet-red and his chest tightens.

Oh... He really, really loves you.

...

HIS JACKET—

[colourme-feral]

Yes, the show is over, but here are the translation notes for 25 Ji, Akasaka De / At 25:00 in Akasaka ep 10 anyway!

We don't need to do things like this any more.

Don't go back (home).

Note: Yuki isn't using a subject when he's talking here, so it could be about anything: Asami, sex, or even sitting in a pool with clothes on. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♂️🤷

Farewell

He listened to my very final wish (and went through with it).

Are you ok? I'm not ok. Note: I think this is the first time that Asami is letting himself act spoiled (amaeru, which is the idea of depending on others and also allowing yourself to be spoiled by someone you love, in this case, Yuki).

Note: Yuki actually goes from calling Asami, "Hayama san" to "Asami san" - from Asami's surname to his first name after they clear up their misunderstanding and realise that their feelings are reciprocated. When he's alone, he's already been referring to Asami as 'Asami san', but when speaking to Asami, he uses Hayama san. Asami has been using Shirasaki kun, which is Yuki's surname and chooses to continue calling him this way even after they get together. It's simply a preference for each of them.

I like you.

By the way, Hayama san, could you sleep with me?

You should say 'you wanna have sex (with me) too'!

Note: Also translated differently by Gaga in ep 9, otsukaresama desu is a little hard to translate, but I would probably translate it to "you've worked hard/good job". The term acknowledges the work that the other person/people you're speaking to have done. (more info)

For the last time... I want you to kiss me just one more time. How silly of you.

So you don't feel lonely, Asami san? Not really.

You'll soon be acting as another person's lover again anyway.

What do you wanna do? Wanna eat breakfast? Later is fine. Let's have it later, shall we.

25 Ji, Akasaka De / At 25:00 in Akasaka language notes・Other language notes