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luveline · 6 months ago

Note

i'm missing coworker!james so much... is he doing okay?

James is poorly :( fem

James is a cruel kind of ill. Desperate to escape the dreaded ‘man flu’, he tries hard to portray the common cold. Doesn’t whine, groan or moan, simply suffers the near constant sneezing and his twinging neck without comment.

Luckily, he has two —two! because you like him enough to be concerned! barely!— nice deskmates who ply him with tea and worry alike.

“Did you take that antihistamine?” Remus asks.

“I did, yeah. You watched me take it an hour ago and try as I might, I haven’t regurgitated it yet.”

“Don’t be disgusting, he’s just worried,” you say.

A month ago, you might’ve said it with deep, genuine ire. James annoys you and his choice of imagery is hardly workplace appropriate, but for some reason you’re good to him lately. You’re softening, and why shouldn’t you be? James is a boy worth softening for.

He sneezes hard into a tissue in his palm and knocks the desk, sending his small crowd of figurines skittering, their light green bodies scuffed with scratches. They fall over each day. You like rearranging them.

You also like feeding James biscuits, and pretending you don’t like him. Or maybe pretending you do. It’s hard to tell what’s real.

“Jesus,” he says, forgetting to be demure as he drops his forehead against his closed fist. “I can’t take it much longer.”

“You need to calm down, is all. Every time you sneeze you trigger the inflammation in your nose, which makes you more likely to sneeze again,” Remus says. He doesn’t sound particularly pitying, but he does then stand to grab James’ mug as he heads to the kitchen.

In an office made up of mostly Brits, it’s extremely common for everyone to make one another a tea or coffee when they get one for themselves, but it’s a sweet gesture for Remus to keep James topped up nonetheless. It also provides for moments like this: you and him alone. Not awkward anymore.

“Do you have painkillers?” he asks.

You open the drawer of your desk and offer him your pouch. “Here.”

Inside are many things. A box of lil-lets, plasters in sterile wrappings, throat soothers, ibuprofen, a treasure trove of cures for little ailments.

“Just, help yourself to anything you want.”

“You’re an angel.” James unveils a shiny purple chocolate bar. “I can have Freddie?”

“Freddo,” you correct. “Come on, James, it’s on the packet.”

He doesn’t truly want it. He doubts he could taste it, and he drops it back in.

“Oh, no, you can have it!” you say, softer. “I’m just being pedantic.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can do chocolate right now.”

“Right, um… well, I have a sandwich?”

“What kind of sandwich?” he asks.

“One of those impossible BLT’s. But I can get you a proper sandwich, James. They have those sesame seed rolls in the vending machine.”

James doesn’t understand why you’re being so nice to him. “I must look awful,” he murmurs, letting his aching, pulsing head drop onto the desk. He sniffs uselessly. Fuck, he hates work. Why can’t he go home?

“You never look awful,” you say.

James turns his face to see you’ve lowered your own, resting your cheek in your hand, your knuckles grazing the table.

“You’re being too nice to me. I’m dying.”

“You’re the one who’s mean to me, James. I’m your unwilling victim.”

“As opposed to being my willing victim.” James hates being ill, his lips are dry and his throat feels sharp and he’s changed his mind, he does want the Freddo. “Please be nice to me again.”

“You know what’s good for this? Nasal spray. That’ll fix you.”

“You could fix me,” James says. You don’t answer. He presses his nose to the table. “My days are always good ones when you can't be bothered to pretend you don’t like me.”

“Who says I’m pretending?”

James whines. “That’s worse.”

You tease a bit of his hair behind his ear. James is content to let you, content to never move again, balmed by the softness of your touch as you draw along the outline of his ear to his jaw. “Don’t press your glasses into your nose, you’ll start sneezing again,” you whisper.

James refuses to move. “Stroke my hair,” he demands.

“No way.”

“You’re no fun.”

“But I’m having a much better day than you are.”

He sulks. This is exactly why James hides your stuff and leaves you off of email chains you should probably be in. You’re horrible, awful, evil, with no sympathy for him and no friendliness, either. James was far better off when he was solely annoyed at you, and not whatever useless state of being this is where his mood depends on your willingness to make friends. If James could, he would—

“Are you okay?” you say, your voice as soft as your fingertip where it traces slowly through his curly hair. “Maybe you should go home and rest. I’m worried about you…”

James might fall in love with you if you keep whispering sweet stuff like that. You hesitate at the nape of his neck before dragging your hand up through a tuft of curls.

“If you don’t get better soon, your voice will go and I’ll have to talk to Lang and Co. on the phone again. You know I hate their finance team leader,” you finish.

You sound so pretty that James almost misses your slight. Then decides he’ll allow it as long as you keep stroking his hair. —

coworker james au

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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darkbluekies · 22 days ago

Note

Can we have more Jerry content please?

"Familiar, like my mirror years ago"

Yandere!female!mafia x reader

Summary: darling getting shot reminds Jerry of memories she can't help but repress, and is now forced to face

Warnings: gore? Blood, lots of it, pain, trauma? In other words, a dark oneshot

Word count: 4.5k

She can’t believe it. The sight is enough to make her sick. Her darling, her only light in this miserable life, lying unreachable in a hospital bed with countless machines connected. How could she ever have let that happened? She’s been sitting by your bed for hours, holding your hand tightly and not looking away. She hasn’t felt a pain like this for a long time, not since her family died. Jerry tries her best to think of something else, but it keeps coming back.

“Mom and dad are out, I’m supposed to make dinner for us.”

Yuna looks up from her homework and grimaces. She’s still wearing her school uniform. “Then we won’t eat”, she mumbles sulkily.

“Hey, watch it.”

Yuna laughs. Jerry’s long hair is tied into a loose ponytail. She sits down on the floor beside her younger sister, watching over her while drinking from a juice pouch. Yuna’s much smarter than her, both in school and life, and that’s good enough for Jerry. She doesn’t have to be smart if Yuna is.

Yuna lifts her head up from her math book. She looks over her shoulder at Jerry.

“Sister, there’s a boy in my class”, she says, “and I think that he likes me. He asked me to go to the amusement park on friday.”

“Who’s this rat?” Jerry scoffs.

“He’s the class president.”

“Oh, your academic rival.” Jerry takes a new sip of her juice. “Is he smarter than you?”

“No.”

Jerry smiles and ruffles Yuna’s hair. “I know that’s right. My little sister is the smartest in school.”

Yuna squirms embarrassedly, but her smile exposed her.

“Before you go out with him I want to meet this little boy of yours”, Jerry says as she bites the straw. “I need to accept him.”

“He’s nice, I promise.”

“I’ll believe that once I see it.”

“Please don’t embarrass me.”

“Embarrass you? Do you think I’m a child?” She thinks for a second. “Don’t answer that.”

Yuna chuckles.

“What about you, sister?” she asks. “Don’t you have someone that you like?”

Jerry leans her head against the wall.

“No”, she replies and smiles. “I don’t need one. Well, are you hungry? Should we get some food?”

“What are you going to make?”

“I’m not going to cook, we’ll go out and buy something. If mom and dad doesn’t know we’re eating junk food, they can’t get mad. I’m feeling like tteokbokki or convenience store food, what about you?”

“Street food sounds nice.”

“Good, let’s go.”

Jerry stands up and goes to grab her jacket. Yuna follows. They walk out of the apartment, out onto the lit up street. The stars in the night sky twinkle beautifully. They walk side by side. Yuna’s shorter than Jerry, for now, but she’ll be taller in a year, she’s sure of that. Yuna’s only sixteen. Jerry’s eighteen. Jerry was Yuna’s age when she started doing things she shouldn’t. It had started small with skipping class, then smoking, then tealing lip glosses from the mall. And then it escalated to robbing and assaults. Jerry wondered where she would be if she hadn’t befriended the wrong people. She had never been good in school, not like Yuna, but had been good at PE. But that doesn’t matter. She has a new chance with Yuna now, to make sure that she does everything Jerry didn’t and make sure Yuna doesn’t do the things Jerry did.

“Look what my friends got me for my birthday”, Yuna says and shows a ‘Kuromi’ plush charm hanging on her bag.

“That’s cute”, Jerry agrees.

Yuna’s friends are the type of friends a teenage girl should have. They gossip, go out for fun, have sleepovers, late night talks. But Jerry knows that Yuna’s friends are scared of her. Ever since Jerry got kicked out of school, people have been suspecting her of things she has done. But no one has evidence. Yuna knows about the theft and the assaults, but not of the others. Jerry has made sure that no one knows that she has joined a gang. If Yuna knew, she could get hurt. That can’t happen. Yuna does everything right in life, she isn’t supposed to be involved in these things. The gang doesn’t know about Yuna either. That’s for the best.

Seoul’s streets are empty, apart from a few people walking their dogs or out on walks. They walk to a nearby food market and buy one thing from every food stand before walking to the nearest river and have a picnic.

“We should have gotten water”, Yuna says.

“Go put your head into the river”, Jerry chuckles.

“I washed my hair this morning.”

“Then thirst to death.”

“Can’t you go buy water? Please?”

Jerry sighs and stands up.

“Fine”, she groans. “Wait here. Don’t eat everything when I’m back.”

Yuna laughs. Jerry grabs her phone and leaves. She walks to the nearest convenience store and gets two bottles of water and two ice creams. The lady behind the counter smiles at her and wishes her a good night. Jerry wishes her back.

A cold wind brushes past her as she walks back out into the night air. For a moment, it feels like someone is watching her. Jerry looks around, but there’s no one to be seen. She frowns and hurries back to the river. Yuna has eaten all of the sausages.

“I told you not to eat all of it!” Jerry says. “If you wanted more you should have bought them yourself. And here I got you ice cream, you ungrateful brat.”

“No, please give it to me!” Yuna laughs and reaches for the ice cream. “I'm sorry, sister, please! You can take all the remaining fish cakes, please!”

Jerry pretends to think for a moment.

“Okay”, she says nonchalantly. “I guess that works. Greedy bitch.”

She gives Yuna the ice cream. Yuna laughs and Jerry can't help but smile.

“Do you think life is pre-planned for you?” Yuna asks after a while. “As in, your fate is already decided, it doesn't matter what path you'll take, you'll eventually end up where you should be?’

“I don't know”, Jerry replies and licks her ice cream. “Wouldn't that be kind of sad, though?”

“Why?”

“If your life is already decided for you. You can't change it. What if you don't like the decided fate?”

“But what if the decided fate is the most perfect for you?”

“What would mine be, then?”

Yuna studies her. “I don't know, but I know that it isn't robbing people. I think you'd be a good psychologist.”

Jerry lifts her eyebrows. “Me? Why?”

“You're good at noticing emotions, and feeling them. You know when I'm upset without me even saying anything.”

“That's because I know you … and you're like an open book, wearing your heart on your sleeve.”

“Maybe, but you know how to make me feel better.”

“I don't think I'd be a good psychologist, unfortunately. I'd be a good mechanic, though. I'd be like a doctor but for machines. What about you? What do you think your decided fate is?”

Yuna sighs and looks out over the river. “I don't know”, she says in defeat. “I wish I knew. I want to get good on the CSAT when i have to do that, get into a good university and get a good job … but i don't know what I want to do.”

“You're sixteen, Yuna, you have time to figure it out.”

“You too. You're eighteen. You can choose something better.”

Yuna’s eyes turn to her, full of sorrow. Jerry’s heart aches. She puts her arm around Yuna’s shoulders and leans her head against hers.

“I'll figure it out”, she sighs. “Don't worry about me.”

“But I do. All the time. I love you.”

“I love you too, but you don't have to. I will figure it out. I will.”

Jerry sobs. Her body is breaking into pieces, can feel the flesh rip itself apart.

Please wake up, Y/N. Please. I can't do this.

She should have done more to protect you. She should have learned from her mistakes. She opens her left hand. A small Kuromi plush charm rests in the palm of her hand. The other hand holds onto yours tightly. The little plush stares at her with cute aggression. She wants to bury her sharp nails into its face, claw away the mocking expression.

You couldn't leave me without a little bully, could you? When you're not here to tease me, this is.

Jerry looks up at your face and feels her body goes cold once again. You look so small, so breakable. She's afraid of squeezing your hand too tightly, worried that she'll snap it in half.

“This is my older sister Yubin.”

Jerry scans the boy up and down. He dresses well, has his hair neatly prince and styled and bows deeply. A real dream for a mother in law.

“Nice to meet you”, he says.

Yuna pulls Jerry to the side.

“Please, can I go with him?” she whispers.

Jerry glances towards him. He twiddles with his fingers

“Okay”, Jerry gives in. “I’ll come get you at eight.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to make sure you get home safely.”

She watches her sister leave the apartment with her arms crossed over her chest.

“He seemed like a nice boy”, her mom says behind her.

“Yeah, let’s hope that, for his sake”, Jerry mutters and walks into her room, closing the door behind her.

She keeps herself occupied by watching a cheesy drama in bed while eating snacks. Every now and then she glances at the clock on her phone, waiting for it to be the right time.

After four episodes—and not a single kiss yet—it's finally time for her to get moving. Jerry gets out of bed and grabs her jacket. She gives her mom and dad a quick ‘goodbye’ before exiting the apartment. The evening air is crisp, the music blasting in her earpods. Her ears are always surprised by the sound, either heavy rap with skillful execution or upbeat bubblegum pop.

She walks through lit up streets full of students taking advantage of the fact that there is no school tomorrow. Fridays being out the wildest in even the calmest of teenagers. Jerry should know.

Suddenly, the feeling of being watched enters her body again. She doesn’t stop to look around, doesn’t want to give any potential stalkers the knowledge that she’s aware. Jerry shakes it off, she always feels watched. She’s paranoid.

She sees Yuna and the boy stand outside the gates of the amusement park. Jerry walks up to them, hands in her pockets. Yuna smiles and waves goodbye to the boy.

“I had so much fun!” she tells her as they walk.

“I can tell”, Jerry says, trying to sound unbothered but the way her lip curls upwards exposes her. “So, how much money did you waste?”

“None, actually. He paid for everything.”

Jerry raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh?” She can't hide her surprise. “He did?” But quickly composes herself. “As he should.”

“I feel bad though, he spent so much money trying to win me a stuffed animal at those machines, you know? The ones with a claw? But I think they're rigged.”

“Of course they are.”

Yuna yawns and leans against her older sister. Jerry chuckles and wraps her arm around her shoulders.

“What?” she questions. “Are you tired now?”

“Yes”, she replies. “Can you carry me?”

“Fuck no, you can walk by yourself.”

“Please?”

Yuna clings onto her and stops walking. Jerry groans and lifts her up on her back, piggyback carrying her. Yuna hugs her neck.

“I think I like that boy”, she mumbles with a smile.

“If he ever hurts you I'm breaking his neck, you know that, right?” Jerry says. “No one hurts my sister.”

Yuna hugged her neck tighter. “No one gets to hurt my sister either.”

Her heart breaks. Jerry has moved away from the bed and sat down beside the window, looking out over the city. The sky is dark, lights twinkling everywhere, like stars.

There's a knock on the door. Jerry looks over, eyes swollen from all crying. Her boss walks in with a bodyguard behind him. In his hands is a colorful flower bouquet, surrounded by soft, pinkish gift paper. He glances at you before turning his eyes to Jerry.

“I came as soon as I heard”, he says and places the flowers on the chair by the bed. “How are they?”

“I don't know”, Jerry says quietly, voice not reaching more than a broken whisper. "Nobody knows.”

Her boss takes a deep breath. He's much more careful than Jerry has ever seen him.

“If there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to let me know, ‘kay?” he says.

“Kill that coward”, she says coldly. “No, don't. Save him for me.”

“I will.”

Jerry makes the mistake of turning her eyes towards you. Your poor soul. Her boss walks over to her and, to her surprise, puts his arms around her. He has never hugged her. In the four years she's known him, he has never hugged her. She has to control herself to not break out into childish sobs again.

“I really love them”, slips out of her before she can stop herself. “Oh, fuck, what do i do?”

“You don't do anything”, her boss says. “You'll stay here and watch over them and I'll do the rest.”

He leaves shortly after, wanting Jerry to have time to herself. She can't cry in front of him, and crying is exactly what she needs.

She walks to the bed and picks up the flowers. There's a little card attached to the gift paper. Jerry opens it.

“Get well soon, Y/N, the entire organization is sending its wishes for you to heal quickly and come back to Jerry — M.”

Jerry smiles slightly. She places the bouquet in her water bottle.

A small noise is heard from the bed and she turns to see you slowly, but surely, open your eyes. Jerry feels her heart stop. She throws herself forward, getting closer to the bed.

“Y/N, babe, I'm here”, she breathes out. “Babe.”

Your eyes seem to not be able to register anything in the bright light, but as they move to see where the sound is coming from, they pupils seem to grow. They fill with tears. Jerry turns your cheek with a trembling hand and wipes it.

“It's okay, baby”, she whispers. “It's okay.”

“Jerry …”, you croak out.

She nods. Tears filled her eyes. She squeezes your hand tighter.

“My pretty baby”, she sniffles and wipes your tears.

“It feels weird.”

“You have machines connected to you, that's why it feels weird. But they're there to help you.”

“How am I alive?”

“I don't know … it's a miracle.”

She must have someone on her side, a guardian angel … or someone that has seen it all before and couldn’t let it happen again. Jerry looks down at the little Kuromi plush in her hand, heart sinking.

“I never thought that i would be shot”, you admit.

“It’s my fault”, Jerry says. “I should never have let it happen. I’m an idiot … but fuck, am I happy you are alive. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t woken up.”

You look around the room, eyes stopping at the flowers.

“Did you get those?” you ask.

“No, my boss did”, she replies and takes out the card. “He even wrote a little message for you.”

She reads it out loud to you and breathes out in relief at your small smile.

“I must be the first person to get that kind of message”, you joke weakly.

“You are”, Jerry says and takes a risk at a joke. “I hope that you’re grateful, because you won’t get another one unless you die.”

“I’m not planning on it.”

Jerry smiles and caresses your cheek. “That’s my baby. You’re not dying for a long while, and I’m going to make sure of it.”

You notice the plush in her other hand.

“What’s that?” you ask.

Your weak hand reaches for hers, trying to get a better look at the Kuromi figurine. Jerry feels her heart stop, her body turn to ice. You knew that she had a sister before and that something happened, but not what happened, or where she is now. Too stunned to react, you’re able to take the little plush out of her hands. You hold it carefully, turning it around to get a good look at it.

“It fits you”, you say quietly, smiling slightly.

“It wasn’t mine from the start”, slips out of her, breathlessly and unfamiliar to her. “It’s not actually mine.”

“Did you steal it from someone?”

If only.

“No”, she says slowly. “I didn’t. It was my sister’s.”

You pull your eyes away from the charm and look at her. She has gone pale by now and stares empty in front of her. The stare reminds you of soldiers who’s seen too much and you apologize for bringing it up.

“You don’t have to apologize”, Jerry mumbles and takes the little plush carefully. “I guess that you should know the story. If anyone should know, it should be you.”

“What was her name?”

Jerry smiles sadly. “Yuna.”

“Yuna.”

Hearing you say it breaks her heart all over again, makes it bleed into her throat. She wishes that you could have met her, and that Yuna got to met you.

See? Jerry would have teased her. You didn’t think I would get a good partner, what do you say now?

“You would have loved her”, Jerry says quietly, still wearing the painful smile. “And she would have loved you—adored you. She loved everything and everyone. A soul too good for this world. She never broke any rules, never did anything stupid … and when she did one time, I scolded her so bad that she never did it again.”

Jerry can see the hesitation in your eyes before you ask the question.

“What happened to her?”

Jerry’s head pounds in pain. Blood runs down her chin, from the corner of her mouth. She wipes it with her sleeve. She really should stop getting into fights, it never ends well. Even if she wins them, she’s left with aching limbs for days to come. But the pride from a win makes her do it again, and again, and again. She usually gangs up with a few people from her gang, and go at it until they can’t anymore. But today was different, she thinks as she makes her way home, through empty streets. They smiled too much today, provoked her more than usual. When she was ready to leave, they pulled her back in with their taunting words, knowing exactly where to press to rile her up again. As if they didn’t want her to leave. It was weird, different than usual.

Jerry drags her feet over the pavement. She will have to take a shower to remove the blood—whether it’s hers or not doesn’t matter.

The door to the apartment complex isn’t fully closed. A small drop of blood sits on the ground. Is she bloody enough to drip? She opens the door and walks into the building, pulling herself up the stairs to the apartment. This door isn’t closed either. Jerry frowns and opens the door, walking into the hallway. She can tell, right away, that something is different. There’s a new smell in the air, one she is oddly familiar with.

The smell of blood.

Her heart stops, nerves crackling with panic before she runs forward, into the livingroom.

“Mom?” she shouts. “Dad? Yuna?”

Blood covers the floor, the walls and furniture. Jerry spins around, desperately trying to find where it leads. It seems to have been smudged in all directions. She opens the door to the bathroom. Empty. Her parents room. Empty. Kitchen is empty. Her hand hovers shakingly over Yuna’s bedroom door. Please don’t, Jerry thinks as sweat runs down her back, please, please. She opens the door. The room is covered in blood. Her parents are lying across the room, blood smudges across the floor exposing that they’ve been dragged here. Their throats are slit. Jerry stumbles backwards, hand reaching for something—anything—to grab onto. Her heart seems to be everywhere in her body, beating irregularly. An ice cold, burning nausea covers her fully, like water.

“Mom—”, she chokes out, sinking down on the floor. She can’t form a sentence, let alone an understandable one. “Dad … oh, my God. Oh, my God, oh shit.”

Her vision is blurred by tears.

A thought enters her head, and suddenly she’s on high alert again.

Yuna … where’s Yuna?

On shaking legs, she clumsily pulls herself up and stumbles out into the corridor again. All other rooms are empty, where is Yuna? Where the fuck is Yuna?

There’s only one room left. Jerry’s. She drags herself over to her closed door, feeling like she’s going to vomit any second. After a long while of waiting, she finally opens the door, revealing her own room. Jerry screams.

Yuna is lying in Jerry’s bed. Her school uniform is covered in blood, her black hair spread out over her face. One arm lies over her stomach, the other hanging over the side of the bed. Jerry has to grab onto her desk. Suddenly she doesn’t feel like she’s there. She can’t feel her legs hold her up.

Without noticing it, her body has moved her forward. She’s standing by her bed. Theres a folded note on Yuna’s chest. Jerry’s hands tremble as she opens it.

“See this as a warning, bitch, next time it will be you.”

She throws the note across the room. Her heart hammers in her chest, but this time in anger. Those disgusting creatures. She can’t find words to describe them. They’re subhuman, but not even that is enough.

She tears down everything on her desk, including her laptop and lamp amd when there’s nothing left for her to destroy, she hits herself, clawing and pulling at anything she can get her hands on. As long as it hurts. It’s her fault. She put her family in danger. Her choices led to this. She killed them.

When her body loses power, she sinks down on the floor, shaking and crying. Jerry covers her face in her hands to avoid looking at her little sisters lifeless body. She can’t remember the last time she cried like this. It exits her body in a whine-like howl, her pain needing to come out.

But even those end. All feelings end at some point, leaving her in a numb, broken shell. She looks towards her bed. The arm that’s hanging of the side of the bed seems to hold something. Jerry crawls over and opens Yuna’s hand slightly. Her skin is still somewhat warm under her touch. In her hand lies the Kuromi charm plush, still somewhat clean. Jerry takes it out of Yuna’s hand and holds it in hers. She hugs it, breaking out into new sobs.

Realizing that she can’t stay here—the ones that have done this will most likely return, or the cops will arrest her for the deed—Jerry stands up. She grabs one of her black backpacks and throws in whatever she thinks that she can need before leaving the apartment for the last time.

Your eyes are filled with tears, and so are hers. You reach forward to wipe hers and she squeezes her eyes shut. She can’t look at you.

“I’m so sorry”, you say.

“I can’t lose you too”, she hisses. “I fucking can’t lose you too.”

She can feel you hug her and she’s quick to remove your arms.

“You shouldn’t move”, she says with a panicked voice. “You’re hurt. Just let the medicine and what fuck-not do it’s work, please. Just do as I say.”

You lay down again. Jerry sighs out heavily and wipes her tears harshly.

“That’s why I joined this organization”, she says angrily. “I realized how vulnerable I was by myself. I needed people that could protect me and have my back … and I’m so fucking sorry I pulled you into it, too. I should have learned my lesson with my family, but I didn’t. I was so fucking selfish doing it again, just because I fell in love. And i could have lost you too. Ic ould have repeated my fucking mistake.”

“But you didn’t”, you say. “I’m here.”

Jerry sighs and holds out the little plush.

“I, somehow, feel like she did this”, she says flatly. “As if she couldn’t watch me go through it again, so she saved you. Yuna died holding this charm. Somehow thinking that it would protect her … or she just didn’t want to die alone.”

Jerry has never said these thoughts out loud before. And when she does it, she doesn’t dare to look at you, scared to see a judging look in your eyes. But you don’t, you look at her with such empathy, such sadness for her.

“I can’t bring myself to get rid of it”, she says and sighs. “Because this was so important to Yuna. I don’t know why.”

“Did you ever get the ones that did it?” you ask carefully.

“No … never. But I will find them one day, and I will make them pay. And the one that did this to you is going to get what he deserve too. I will never let anything hurt you again. I will do whatever it takes, but so help me, if anything ever happens to you again.”

“I think that if she saw you now, she would be proud of you”, you say. “Maybe not for what you do, but for how loving you are.”

Jerry scoffs, but you see that your words hit her hard.

“You are”, you insist. “Not everyone sees it, but you are. Even if you don’t believe it yourself.”

“Oh yeah?” she scoffs. “How ‘loving’ can I be after everything I’ve done to you?”

You swallow, thinking of everything Jerry has put you through but shake it off. Not the right timing.

“You sat here with me all this time”, you say. “You’ve cried for me. Worried for me.”

“Well, yeah, I’m not a monster.”

“You aren’t. You are human. And that’s why it wasn’t your fault, for anything that happened. You didn’t do anything.”

Jerry sniffles and looks down at the plush, and then at you.

“Thank you, Y/N”, she says, giving you a small, sad smile. “Thank you.”

After you’ve fallen asleep that night, she places the little Kuromi plush on the pillow, by your head and smiles sadly. She falls asleep with her head on the free space on the bed beside your legs, eternally grateful that you came back to her, and with a new peace in her body. As if a heavy weight has lifted off her shoulders.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere female

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remiivu · 3 months ago

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Ghostly Companion-- Chapter 2

<---- Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ---->

Thank you everyone for reading! This chapter features mostly soft, domestic fluff as I work out the plot! Next update in ~3 days. Enjoy!

[Ao3 link]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hehehehe!” Is what you awoke to, followed by the heart-stopping blare of cars passing by way too close for comfort.

You jolt, held in place by Mr. Crawling’s firm arms. He laughs again, giving your face a poke. “Not ∎∎∎∎!” He coos rather loudly, and you sigh.

“Yeah, good morning, Mr. Crawling,” you say, despite the sun hardly being up. It’s actually still pretty dark, and as you survey your brand new area, you notice that you’re on a rather steep part of the mountains, adjacent to some dirt roads and the scarce road lights illuminating the area.

“∎∎∎ stops!” Mr. Crawling says, rocking the both of you gently in a soothing back-and-forth motion. Huh, for being dead and rather thin-looking, his lap was actually pretty comfortable.

You eye the area, trying your best to repeat “∎∎∎?”

Mr. Crawling nods quickly with a smile. “∎∎∎!” He says, pointing at the road.

Oh, road?

But– wait, the road is very obviously continuing off towards somewhere, you muse quietly. Perhaps something more like… the path? If you look from his perspective, the monotonous dirt mounds, roots, and rockers were most definitely cut off by the road.

So, path will probably fit somewhat better.

You nodded, “Mhm, path stops. Go with me.” As you stand up, you groan a bit, stretching stiff limbs held tightly together for an extended period of time. Judging by the sky, he must’ve been dragging the two of you for a good amount of time.

You look right and left, and upon seeing no cars, you hurriedly cross the road, watching with relief as he does the same– in fact, he moves much quicker here, traversing the flat land with glee.

Upon crossing the road, you see the lights and tall buildings of your city, numerous of which you recognize based on the shape, ads, or colors.

“Oh thank god,” you smiled, looking back once more to check on your ever loyal ghost. Though he most definitely didn’t understand your relief, he seemed to mirror your relaxed and happy demeanor, swaying ever so slightly as he waited patiently for you to continue.

You grinned, then began to carefully trek through the remaining hills and bushes, mostly following the road from a safe distance. After all, you weren’t quite sure whether or not other people could see your new companion, and you’d much rather get back to your tiny apartment without any extra screams or the need to act like Mr. Crawling wasn’t 2 feet behind you.

Fortunately, Japan is much quieter at dawn than at midnight with most office workers having already gone home after a night of drinking or overtime. The few that remain were early risers much too tired to give their surroundings a second thought or still half drunk and passed out near the station or a random nook in an alley.

Lucky, lucky, lucky you think to yourself as you made steady progress to your apartment building. Feeling slightly more rested and in a better mood, you allowed Mr. Crawling explore the new setting for a few minutes, laughing at his reaction to window displays or any vending machines you passed by.

You felt far more secure walking around an area you know compared to the mountains.

“∎∎∎∎!” Mr. Crawling says, stopping to inspect a small collection of Gachapon outside a large convenience store.

You let out a small snort, his amusement infectious. You can't remember the last time you were that excited over a capsule machine. Maybe it was elementary school?

“Want one?” You ask, giving your bag a small shake to confirm that it still had coins in it.

Mr. Crawling brightened even more, “Me can?”

You fish out your coin pouch, digging around for some 100 yen coins. You pull out 2, handing them over to his hand and placing them in his palm.

You grab 2 more coins and demonstrate, picking out one depicting cute foods. You inserted the coins and twisted the lever, watching as a yellow ball rolled out. You picked it up, popping it open, and unfurling the wrap covering your brand new keychain, revealing a piece of cartoony buttered toast.

Mr. Crawling scooted closer, giggling out “cute cute cute!” as he poked and prodded at the small plastic thing.

Without a moment of hesitation, he inserts his coins into the same machine you had picked out, his hand turning the lever making a suspicious creak and clicking that, in your heart, signified something breaking.

Ah, shit… you thought half-heartedly as he took his yellow capsule, popping it open and tearing off the plastic covering. He let out giggles, staring at his tiny new keychain.

A cute fried piece of mackerel with little x marks over its eyes.

You let out your own laugh, absentmindedly patting his head as he poked and moved his keychain. His head jerks up, grin radiant, as he says “Me like ∎∎∎! Thank you!”

You felt your heart melt as you gave his head a rougher pat. “Of course. Me happy…uh– me happy you happy.”

Mr. Crawling gushed, lunging up to give you a tight hug that nearly brought you to the ground again. Your far more controlled yelp was cut off by your own laughs paired with his giggles as you combed your fingers through his hair. It wasn’t as neat as before, slightly ruffled up and tangled around small pieces of dirt, leaves, and rocks.

Yikes, he needed a bath. Do ghosts need baths? Well, regardless, you probably weren’t that far off, and the remains of dried blood would probably stop looking like the dried mud you knew other people assumed it was when the sun fully rises.

And so, the moment was rather brief, interrupted by some cars passing by, but it was more warmth than you’ve ever really experienced since childhood, and you truly cherished it.

“Alright, c’mon,” You grinned, taking a half a step back to indicate you wanted to move. “We go.”

Mr. Crawling, as sweet as can be, followed after, keeping his new keychain as… safe as can be tucked between his razor sharp teeth, the little mackerel swaying against his chin and jaw.

You tried your best not to laugh at the sight.

The journey to your apartment afterwards was as tedious as you recalled, the same streets looking hardly any different despite the fact that you were basically kidnapped into a new world and nearly died quite a few times. And, while the rush of laughter was nice, you could feel the remaining exhaustion built up from the past 24 hours weighing heavier on your shoulders with every few steps, your hour-or-so long nap hardly the rest you actually needed.

But, you can’t deny, having Mr. Crawling by your side was the motivation you needed as you hiked up roads and through narrow roads as you began to walk away from the most busting parts of the city, entering a residential area that was fairly secluded from the main streets.

Your building was more run down than most, cheap with some decent space for one person and some nice, elderly neighbors (that you really don’t want to traumatize). So, you opened the creaky entrance as quietly as you could, feeling confident that Mr. Crawling wouldn’t make much of a peep of noise until you reached your room.

You were 3 floors up, and you stopped yourself from letting out another huff of laughter at how at-home Mr. Crawling appeared to be on familiar concrete floors and stairs. That was too bad, honestly, as your house had wooden floors and some tatami mats, but a part of your mind, despite knowing how sturdy his limbs were, felt better that he wouldn’t be constantly kneeling and crawling on cold concrete floors like before.

And, really, it would be best for the both of you to leave that place as far behind as possible. In fact, you’d like to convince yourself that everything was a dream, and you simply found a ghost in the mountains like all the ghost stories had warned you about. No blood, no torture room, and no man in red.

All normal. Regular life. No deaths or blood or a creepy face peering at you from every dark crevice.

You pull out your keys, giving your doorknob a soft rattle as it opens, and you breathe in a lungful of air you didn’t realize you could miss so much.

The air was slightly stale, but it was nothing an hour or so of airing out could fix.

You walk in, kicking off ruined shoes by the doorway and hesitating for a moment when you see Mr. Crawling’s… attire.

It wasn’t bad. For crawling in a damp mountain, it was actually very clean, but you were still on the edge of letting dirt and grime inside.

But when Mr. Crawling tilts his head, mackerel clicking against his cheek, you felt yourself give in with a small sigh, and nod with a smile that you simply couldn’t help.

You walked in, waving him in, and once settled upon the hardwood floor, you shut the door tight, ensuring everything was locked.

“∎∎∎?” Mr. Crawling asked, mouth free of a charm. It was now back in his hands.

You hummed, giving him a blank look that you knew he knew meant you didn’t understand.

Mr. Crawling, hardly deterred, points at your home. “∎∎∎? You ∎∎∎?”

Hmm… You contemplate, looking at your room. Was he trying to say home?

“Home,” you say patiently in your language, watching as Mr. Crawling had a turn of looking confused. “...H..” He mumbles, and you nod.

“Home,” you pointed all around your home. “Home. Me home.”

Mr. Crawling followed where your finger was pointing rather comedically, head craning backwards and torso twisting around to see everything you were showing him. “You ∎∎∎. You… home?”

Your smile was instantly matched by his as you nodded quickly in affirmation. “Yes! Me home! Me language. Home.”

Mr. Crawling giggles, then crawls further into the house, exploring. You take the time to get settled, placing your bag on the hanger and plugging your nearly dead phone into the nearest outlet. Stretching your tensed, spent muscles, you finally took the time to look at yourself in the mirror and cringed at the sight.

Firstly, your hair was an utter mess, grime and browned blood crusting up in it, on your face, and on a good amount of the rest of your body. Your clothes were frankly ruined, and you’ll have to burn them or something. There’s no way you’ll be able to explain why that much blood from a presumably missing person is all over you.

You give a glance at Mr. Crawling who paused his cabinet-inspection to, in turn, look at you.

… surely… you contemplate, not even registering the way he’s shuffling a bit under your gaze. Surely I can leave him alone for… 20 minutes? I need to shower at least… scratch the bath. I’ll probably fall asleep if I stay there.

Mr. Crawling hurriedly began shoving stuff back in, the clacking and banging drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You question, eloquently, as Mr. Crawling asks, holding a dustpan, “You mad?”

… Oh? “No, no.” You quickly reassure, crossing the room to bend down a bit and pet his head. “Me happy you happy. You… uh..” You pause, eyes scrunching shut as you begin digging in your mind for a word.

“You… can.” You eventually settle with, feeling assured that he understood when he smiled. You watched for another few seconds as he re-emptied the now-messy floor cabinet, digging out items that you’ve frankly forgotten about, before turning away with a small laugh and walking off to the bathroom.

You pulled out a spare set of clothes, dumping your current ones into a pile, and watched as grime and crust poured into the drain.

________________________________

When you step out, feeling refreshed and relaxed, you spotted a mini pile of mess surrounding your brand new roommate who seemed eager, mackerel keychain in mouth, to explore.

You hummed, observing his dirty appearance, before making a decision.

After all, you can’t have someone that dirty resting on a clean, white futon– or even the tatami mats he thankfully hasn’t walked over yet. He needed a bath earnestly.

“Mr. Crawling,” You say, watching him turn in excitement.

“Hello!” He greeted, crawling towards you.

A brief half-second thought ensures that you truly had no word associated with water, wash, or anything along those lines, so you simply pointed into the bathroom, motioning towards yourself and your clean body.

“Uhm, wash. Bath,” You said, heading inside the still steamy room as you rinsed the tub and began filling it with water.

Mr. Crawling inspected it, peering at the warm water. “You,” you said, pointing inside the filling bathtub, followed by the motion of you washing your hair.

He tilts his head, jaw gently chewing at the keychain in his mouth. Then, when he sunk his arm in, you nodded fervently. “Yes yes,” You encouraged, motioning for him to get in.

When he sinks in, clothes bubbling to the surface, you contemplate asking him to take it off, but…

Yeahh, maybe not. You weren’t ready to see… whatever male ghosts had down there.

You pushed the fabric into the water, letting it soak up water until it sunk on its own and grimaced at the small wave of dirt that rose to the surface.

Yikes.

_____________________

Giggles erupted from the bathroom followed by small shouts of laughter periodically for the next 30 minutes as Mr. Crawling enjoyed the bath, splashing water out the tub and nearly melting when you firmly scrubbed his scalp and feet-long locks of hair.

You had drained and refilled the tub about 3 times now, the water finally a consistent clear color, that allowed you to wash and rinse the poor guy with some peace of mind.

“Good good! Happy!” Mr. Crawling cheered as he pushed his head up against your palms and fingers pressed against his head. “Thank you! Thank you!”

You laughed yourself, rinsing out the shampoo by scooping up buckets of water and pouring it over his head. “You really needed this,” you mused, gently layering a thin amount of conditioner onto his hair and letting it sit out on the side of the tub.

You can already see your bank account taking a foreseeable hit once your hair products run out.

Mr. Crawling giggled, taking out his now-warm arms to pet your (thankfully still wet) hair as you briefly scrubbed his legs and arms and attempted to wash his torso through his clothes. They seemed to be thin enough, after all, and it doubles as washing the fabric.

You snorted as hair fell into your face, large damp fingers clumsily pushing them away before you could really react. “You safe!” Mr. Crawling chirped, using his warm hands to cup your face and keep anything else from falling onto your eyes.

You felt your heart skip a beat as your cheeks began to warm themselves up, a soft smile firmly planted on your face. “And you’re very sweet,” you hum good naturedly, finishing up with a last rinse, drain of the tub, and wash down with the nearby showerhead.

You squeezed out as much water as you possibly could from your brand new sentient, crawling mop before helping him out of the tub and onto a towel. You gave him a small warning, motioning him to cover his ears as you plugged in the hairdryer, doing your best to dry him off.

He giggled, pulling his hands off his ears after a few moments and observing the hairdryer, reaching out to touch it a few times. “Cool! Noise ∎∎∎.” He said, watching his hair fly all around the room.

By the end, your arms were sore and your eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep, but he was dry and clean– very, very clean, skin no longer various shades of gray and clothes a step lighter than they used to be.

Before you could stand up and begin your voyage to your bed, he gently tugged you down, pulling you to sit on the towel.

“Huh?” You ask, watching as he fiddled with your hairdryer. He giggled when it roared to life, pointing the heated air at your head and clothes.

Oh… You relaxed, smiling as he tried his best to dry off whatever remaining moisture was in it. It was only slightly damp anyways, the air having done its job, but the tenderness of his fingers trying to run through your scalp and the warmth of not only the hairdryer but also the comfort of returning to some sort of semblance of a normal, soft, and loving life was enough to give rise to brand emotions that surged up from your chest and into your eyes.

You did your best to choke out anything threatening to escape your throat, but there was no hiding the tears burning in your eyes or the way your body tensed up against the knees pressed against your back.

Suddenly, the hairdryer shuts off, and a head smelling like your favorite shampoo pops in your vision, followed by “You sad? Hurt? Sad, you sad, me ∎∎∎.”

You sniffled, giving yourself that at least, and shook your head, quickly wiping off any tears. “No. No, me happy. You… nice. You nice… much. Me happy. Thank you.”

Still, Mr. Crawling looked concerned, giving your body a quick check over and closely inspecting your head to ensure he really didn’t hurt you. When he finds nothing, he leans back, crawling to your side.

“You rest?” He says, and you give a jerky nod.

“Yeah, me… rest. Need rest.” You mutter, standing up and kicking the towels off to the side as well. You could clean that up later.

You lead Mr. Crawling out the room and into the small alcove covered in a tatami mat, opening a cabinet and pulling out 2 futons, unrolling them onto the floor. You then grabbed your pillows, blanket, and hurried to make yourself as comfortable as possible, handing him his set so that he could do the same.

But, instead of setting up his bed like you, he just sat right beside you intently, merely laying down the futon and pressing his pillow against your side.

“What are you doing?” You mumble, voice slightly nasally and eyes a bit puffy. You simply laid down, too tired and half-embarrassed to remain sitting up, but let out a small noise as his body laid on top of yours.

“What are you–”

“You rest,” Mr. Crawling says with a smile, face pressed against your abdomen and his blanket resting against his legs. “You rest. Me ∎∎∎∎ you safe.”

And, honestly, you don’t bother with trying to refute anything anymore. You sighed, letting your overworked muscles relax and gently resting your hand on his head. You were home, you were safe, and you… you weren’t alone. You had someone there with you now. Someone who protected you and could keep you safe in your sleep.

You blink open your eyes briefly when you felt something cold and foreign press into the other hand resting at your side, but upon seeing the small mackerel and toast keychains resting in your palm, you let out a small snort and let your eyes fall shut once again, mumbling a small “goodnight..” as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep almost immediately.

“...g…goood…niight…”

That's all! Gave you guys a bit of a longer chapter (~3.2k words) as an extra thanks! Hope you enjoyed ^^

<---- Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ---->

[Ao3 link]

#mr crawling x you #mr crawling #mr crawling x reader #homicipher #x reader

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aetherdoesthings · 7 months ago

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a new job

forethoughts: i'm currently on a train going to my next location and my head is light and i feel like puking as i'm typing this because someone has terrible motion sickness :D. anyways apologies if the quality of work isn't of the same as my previous ones; i am running on a glass of sparkling water. also apparently i'm only a few followers away from 300, so you know what that means...

notes: fem!reader, botanist!reader, arlecchino being a good father

Arlecchino trekked through the bustling streets of Fontaine, her crimson eyes gleaming at anyone who dared to stare for too long. She tuned out the sounds of random Fontainians whispering and saying her name to one another, instead focusing on her task at hand. In her hands was a bouquet of romaritime flowers and rainbow roses, all fresh and handpicked by herself. One more bouquet, and her collection would be complete. After that, she’d be off to the Opera Epiclese to watch her children graduate. The thought alone of Lyney, Lynette and Freminet graduating was enough to bring a smile to the Knave’s face, but she kept her poker face on, keeping her excitement and happiness to herself.

The Harbinger stepped into the flower shop, admiring the bouquets set out on the stands as she stepped into the building, ignoring the bees that fluttered around.

“Hi! How may I help you?” Arlecchino’s muscles tightened at the sudden sound, before relaxing when her eyes landed upon the source of the sound. You were standing in front of the Harbinger, wearing a simple white dress. It didn’t help the Harbinger relax when she saw your jade eyes and a white headband on your head.

“And you are..?” The Harbinger mustered the question out of her mouth, a wave of deja vu washing over her.

“I’m Y/N, the owner of this flower shop!” You smiled at the Knave, not a single drop of fear in your heart as you faced the woman that could end your life just by looking at you. “Is there anything you’re looking for? Or picking up an order?”

“Well… I would like to purchase a bouquet of lumidouce bells.” Arlecchino cleared her throat.

“Alright!” You walk towards your collection of lumidouce bells, picking up a bouquet for Arlecchino. “Here you go!”

“Right. Thank you.” Arlecchino took the bouquet of lumidouce bells, juggling it with her other two bouquets. She reached into her pocket, fetching out her wallet.

“T-That’s alright. I couldn’t possibly charge the Knave for some little Mora.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“I insist. How much, clerk?” Arlecchino waited for your response.

“U-Um, sixteen Mora.”

Sixteen? For a bouquet this size? Arlecchino thought to herself.

“Take it all.” Arlecchino handed you a pouch of Mora, leaving it in your hand. “There are at least six thousand Mora in there.”

The Knave’s thin lips curled upwards at the sight of your jaw ajar, staring at the Harbinger’s pouch of Mora as if you had the whole world in your hand.

“I-I couldn’t possibly-”

“Take it. These lumidouce bells look to be in excellent condition compared to other shops who bargained for a higher price. You are quite the modest person, are you?”

You look at the Harbinger with a sheepish look, as you made your way to the counter, the Harbinger’s money still in your hands as your shaking fingers click on a few buttons on the machine, printing the receipt for the Harbinger. “I… just like to make people happy, really. I like my lifestyle. It can be better, yeah, but I’m happy with where I’m at.”

“I see.” Arlecchino made her way towards you, standing on the other end of the counter.

While the two of you were waiting for the receipt to print, you chirped. “May I ask why you have three bouquets of flowers?” Arlecchino looked at the bouquets of flowers she had, adjusting how she held them to assure the best quality of all three of them. “My children are graduating tonight.”

Arlecchino’s heart churned at the sight of your smile and glimmer in your eyes. “That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for them!”

“Thank you.” Arlecchino replied, looking at each bouquet, the recipient’s faces flashing in her head, which only fuels her pride and joy.

“Say, I noticed you have romaritime flowers on you. As an advice, romaritime flowers are found underwater, meaning they thrive being submerged in water. It is advised you drench them in water to keep them healthy and alive. Here.” You grab a spray bottle of water, pressing down on the trigger ever so slightly, letting a sprinkle of water hit the romaritime flowers. In an instant, the colors brighten, as if it was brought back to life. Arlecchino’s eyebrow raised at the sight, fascinated by the newfound knowledge in botany.

“Did you study botany while you were at school, clerk?” Arlecchino asks, as you set the spray bottle down.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Arlecchino couldn’t stop herself grinning at the sound of you calling her ‘ma’am.’ “Arlecchino. Call me Arlecchino.”

“Okay. Yes, Arlecchino. I did study botany!” You smiled, proud of your hard work and achievement.

“Interesting.” An idea formulates in Arlecchino’s head, as she studied your figure once more. The receipt was printed, as you handed it over to Arlecchino.

“Well, have a fun time at the graduation ceremony! I wish the best for your children!” You exclaimed, the corners of your mouth shooting up to your lips as your eyes met Arlecchino’s crimson ones.

“Hmn.” Arlecchino walked out of your store, the faint rustle of the bell filling up the empty space. The Harbinger made her way to the Opera Epiclese, a thin smile on her face as her mind pondered about you and your profession, then about the children at the House of the Hearth.

You were about to close your store and head home, when spiders crawled up your spine, the hair on your body rising and your muscles tensing up. Alarm and panic raced through your mind as you whipped your head around, scanning the dark streets of Fontaine for any sign of your source of fear.

“I have a proposition for you.”

A scream was ripped from your throat as you jumped, stumbling a few feet back as your eyes zoned in onto the voice. The Fourth Harbinger stood at where you once were, half of her body cloaked by the shadow, only a fraction of her body exposed in the light.

“A-Arlecchino.” You stammered, your mind still in flight or fight mode.

“Don’t be scared. I’m not here to harm you. Rather, help you.” The Knave took a step towards you, her eyes telling you no secrets or revealing anything whatsoever about her plan. You took a deep breath, nodding your head as you composed yourself.

“I want you to be a teacher in the House of the Hearth. To teach the students about botany. I believe it will be useful for the children to know about nature and the world around them, help them survive and grow used to being in nature’s terrain.” Arlecchino announced. “Naturally, I will pay you a sum of Mora monthly, and provide you with the basic amenities you require.”

Your jaw dropped to the ground, your soul headed for the other direction. “You want me to teach kids about plants?”

“Yes. Starting next week. I will provide for your travel necessities to arrive at the House safely.”

“I’m not sure if I’m really qualified to teach-”

“Did I stutter?” A crimson glow emanated from those dark pools. You gulped, nodding your head, accepting the Harbinger’s offer. The darkness in her face disappeared, replaced by a thin smile as she dipped her head at you.

“I shall see you then. Have a good night.”

“Have… a good night.” You mumbled out, watching the Harbinger disappear into the streets of Fontaine. With Arlecchino out of your sight, your shoulders slumped, as you turned the key, allowing yourself to step away from your store and be one with the dark as well.

Maybe getting that degree wasn’t so useless after all.

#genshin impact #arlecchino genshin #the knave #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #aetherwrites #botanist

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giddlygoat · 1 year ago

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i wanted to experiment with dave and buck fits and how they might dress if they didn’t have a dress code. some thoughts on the design process below :’D

i want to keep dave’s rose motif going strong in my art bc i feel like the rose at the end of his cutscene is really important to his character. the music note pin on his lapel is based off my chum @megalophobic-astronomer’s headcanons :]

he also has a big, bold zoot suit because i feel like it represents him very well. the butterfly collar is always a must and a staple of my design for him lol. golden box chains around his neck and hanging from his waist are mostly me projecting my taste upon him but i think he would wear chains and jewelry pretty regularly!

buck is all over the place bc i wanted to incorporate a bunch of different styles into one mess of a fit. my main inspirations boil down to Punk Butch at Poker Night lol. i think buck’s taste extends far past this look, and we know he wears a suit well, but i think he would be very adventuresome in his style. at the end of the day, i want him to look rambunctious, jagged and fun.

along with the built in chip dispensers in his arms, he also wears a vintage coin dispenser on his belt, card pouches organized by suit on his thigh, and fuzzy dice for luck on his key ring. this guy jangles! oh, and i’ve had lots of hcs about buck’s body for a while but haven’t drawn them too much yet. here’s a kind of outdated ref that still stands

he has a [convoluted and under-referenced] card shuffler in his chest and a roulette wheel in his belly because i said so <3 the gold trim and detailing is inspired by vintage slot machines and i wanted to give him a kind of cheap tin look.

i don’t have all my hcs for dave’s body drawn out yet, but i’m thinking of giving him accordion bellows in his lower torso and i know for sure he has radio dials on his forearms along with more speakers on the top side. i want to cram as many musical motifs as possible into his design and hopefully i will come up with more ideas for buck too!

#ttcc #dave brubot #buck ruffler #the duck shuffler #the major player #toontown: corporate clash #giddly’s art #no id #ttcc fanart

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guangdongyuesen · 1 year ago

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whalesforhands · 1 year ago

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even trivial moments are fine (satosugu x reader)

warnings: fluff?, somewhat different from my usual formats, i’ll let you decide where this fits in, gojo-centric haha

i’m somewhat late on my upload streak i’m SORRY

Grabby hands that find comfort in reaching for Suguru’s, feeling the rough callouses on the other boy’s hand and threading his long fingers through his, the comfort of having Geto with him, beside him, he can finally feel the joy of summer.

When he’s childishly tugging off the hairtie that held the entirety of Suguru’s bun up, letting the wind whisk those black locks up against the azure blue sky. Before his very own glasses are suddenly grabbed and pulled off from his eyes, joined by a melodious sounding of laughs paired with upturned eyes that shone with the glow of a blue spring.

“Payback is really something, huh Satoru?” Geto is laughing despite his hair that continued to billow in the summer breeze, grinning as he held onto the pair of dark sunglasses that hid the affection that adorned the crystal blue.

By the windy grass and clear skies that ran endlessly in this summer of his youth, he knows that that someone will always be waiting, reflected by midnight black and deep, hypnotizing purple.

Gojo Satoru is irrevocably in love with Geto Suguru.

Even when he sees you brushing through Geto’s hair, the mentioned boy with his eyes closed and leaning back onto the back rails of the loungeroom chairs, ears keened as Suguru hears your quiet humming, leaning into your touch as you continue your administrations in quiet, serene delight.

“Satoru?” Suguru calls out, sensing the familiar sorcerer first. “Were you not able to sleep? I’ll join you in a bit.” You’d look over your shoulder and flash him an apologetic smile as you keep brushing.

“I’m sorry for keeping him.” You fully turn your body to meet his.

“Would you like to get your hair brushed too?”

Your footfalls that slow and turn on your heel to look back at him and wave, waiting patiently as Suguru goes after an excited Haibara and rushing Nanami, Shoko’s laughter be serving as the background’s noise whilst you stood in the foreground, smiling as he approaches you with pockets tucked away deep into his pockets, grin on his face as he meets your gaze.

“Waiting for me, huh?”

“Always.”

The way you’d always keep spare change for the whole group in your little pouch, saving them the disappointment of not having the funds to enjoy their weekly vending machine sessions.

“Haibara-kun, you’re doing great! Keep it up.” Shoko’s grinning as the diligent first-year stands before the setting rays of the sun as both you and the aforementioned girl squatted down and hid within the tall first-year’s shadow, her drink in your hand as she took a sip from your chocolate milk.

“Yes ma’am! I will do anything to help keep our benefactor safe from the dangerous UV rays!”

“Yu, your cola’s turning lukewarm.” Nanami’s deadpan call to him would cause the boy to panic, not wanting to leave his duty, and yet, the call of his drink yearned for him.

Satoru likes how you care for all of them. But, he thinks he likes it better when it’s reserved just for him and Suguru.

Finally, notices that he finds solace in the silence with you. The quiet musings of your voice as you slowly sip from the cup of chilled barley tea, the comfortable hush about the both of you zoning him out as his eyes trailed over the way happiness and alleviation manifested on your face, the way you’d turn your attention towards him when you finally notice his gaze.

“Satoru?” You’re bringing him back from his spaced out state, soft giggles that beget his undivided attention to you as you tilt your head slightly, awaiting his reply to your question that went unheard in his indulgence of you.

…Is it pathetic, shallow, selfish of him to wish for you to hold his hand and walk together with him too? Perhaps it is.

For he still wants, hopes, wishes for you to see him as more than just the Satoru that belonged to Suguru, for you to finally see that his love is more than just this.

His body that jumps up at the cue of your heartbeat, his heart that finally loosens up when you’re both finally in his presence, a simple desire to know, to learn every intricate thing about the both of you until the end of his time and beyond.

Because, there’s no denying it.

Gojo Satoru is irrevocably in love with you too.

#geto x reader x gojo #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #whalewrites #dyf au #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader

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theink-stainedfolk · 2 months ago

Text

The Fox and The Flam

---

The sun was setting behind the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the neighborhood. A quiet evening, except for the usual chatter of the local market and the faint hum of music drifting from the corner store. It was a good day to blend in—something Jinx had mastered after years of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. He wasn't famous, but his name was whispered in the right places. The streets knew him, and he knew the streets.

He was out on one of his regular rounds, weaving through the alleys when a figure caught his eye. A tall man, dressed in a crisp coat, standing at the edge of the market square, looking like he didn’t quite belong here. His posture was too stiff, his gaze too focused, scanning the surroundings in a way that screamed “outsider.”

Jinx narrowed his eyes, instinctively sizing him up. The stranger didn’t look dangerous, but there was something about the way he held himself. Confident. Sure. As though he’d stepped out of a place where people didn’t question authority, didn’t wonder why the world was the way it was. Someone who thought rules applied to everyone but him.

“New face around here,” Jinx muttered to himself, adjusting the small pouch on his belt. The neighborhood had its share of newcomers, usually people who thought they could fix the poverty or clean up the streets, but Jinx didn’t trust them. Most of them were just another part of the machine, another cog pretending to care about the people they were stepping over.

Still, curiosity got the better of him. With a casual, practiced swagger, Jinx made his way over to the stranger. He had a way of moving that made people notice him—without making it obvious. No one questioned a smile, after all. And everyone loved food.

“Hey there!” Jinx greeted, flashing a wide grin as he approached. He’d already spotted a small vendor nearby, the sweet smell of fresh dumplings filling the air. It was a favorite spot of his—one of the few places where people still sold things that were real, not made for tourists.

“Got any interest in trying some homemade dumplings?” Jinx continued, his tone light and friendly, like he was offering a gift instead of a simple snack. “My treat. I make sure they’re worth the coin.”

The man looked down at him, his sharp gaze flicking over Jinx with a certain calculating interest. The silence between them stretched for a moment before August replied, his voice steady but carrying a subtle curiosity.

“Homemade, you say?” August’s lips quirked slightly, as though amused. “I haven’t heard of you before. You’re not from around here?”

Jinx grinned. “I’ve been around. You’re new though. Not from here, I mean.” He gestured vaguely around them, at the haphazard shops, the lively crowd, and the occasional cat darting between the stalls. “What brings you to the charming little chaos we’ve got going?”

August chuckled, his eyes lingering on Jinx’s face a moment longer than necessary. “Just trying to settle in the neighborhood. I’ve heard things about this place. Figured I’d see for myself.”

Jinx arched an eyebrow. “Settle in? You?” He nodded toward August’s immaculate coat, which stood out sharply against the more worn, patched clothing of the neighborhood. “You’re really going to settle around here like that?”

August glanced down at himself and then back at Jinx, his expression unreadable for a moment before he spoke again. “Well, I know what you are thinking based off of my clothes. But i really am thinking of moving here. I think it’s possible to settle down here.”

Jinx laughed, a short, sharp sound. “A lot of people around here have tried that, and they’re usually long gone by now. And if you want to help, you’ll need more than just good intentions.” He paused, looking August up and down, his gaze narrowing as he tried to read the man. There was something too perfect about him, too polished for a place like this. “What’s your name?”

“August,” the man replied smoothly, offering a polite smile. “And you are?”

“Jinx,” he said without missing a beat. He wasn’t one to give out his real name often, but this felt... different. It was one of those moments, like when you meet someone and there’s a tiny spark of something, whether good or bad. You’re not sure yet, but it’s there.

August’s brow furrowed slightly, as if considering something. “Jinx?” he repeated, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s a... unique name.”

Jinx froze, his smile faltering for a second. “Hmm, you have a weird name too... But it’s cute.” The words came out so casually, so dismissively, that it was like a slap in the face.

A rush of irritation flared in Jinx’s chest. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” August replied, unfazed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Just that it’s an... interesting name.”

Jinx’s teeth gritted. He hated it when people tried to comment on things they didn’t understand. His name wasn’t a joke, damn it. It wasn’t something he chose, it was part of who he was. And no one—especially not this pretentious stranger—was going to make light of it.

“Cute, huh?” Jinx muttered under his breath, glaring at August. “Well, I’ll make sure to change it next time I’m making a joke out of it.”

August seemed to take it all in stride, though. “You don’t seem to take compliments very well.” He shrugged, his expression still composed. “But you’re an interesting guy, Jinx. I’ll give you that.”

Jinx didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he handed August the small basket of dumplings, the steam still rising from the warm, savory treats. “I’d advise you to get used to the neighborhood,” he said, his tone much less hostile now, though the bite was still there. “It’s full of people who don’t need fixing. And a lot of them don’t appreciate being treated like projects.”

August took the dumplings with a gracious nod, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I’ll try not to make that mistake.”

“Good,” Jinx said flatly. “Just don’t think you can come in here and fix things without knowing what you’re dealing with. People around here are cleverer than you think.”

August studied him for a long moment, his gaze intense. “You seem to know a lot about this place, Jinx. Maybe... I’ll take you up on your offer to show me around?”

Jinx’s lips quirked into a half-smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t usually go showing strangers around. But, hey, I’ve got a feeling you’ll be around here long enough to learn things yourself.”

“Is that so?” August asked, his voice almost playful now. “And what makes you think I’ll be sticking around for very long?”

Jinx shrugged, the tension easing slightly. “Everyone does. They just don’t know when to leave.”

And with that, he turned to walk away, his mind already racing. There was something about this man—August—that didn’t sit right with him. But for now, Jinx could play it cool.

---

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