#1st pov

[stingywiththeirusername]

Mutuality (Dark Taro Yamada AU)

“Decaying Picture Perfect Family”

(Author’s Note: So this is the part 2 of the last Dark Taro Yamada post I made, this time I decided to focus on the Yamada family more so on how divided they are playing along in the delusion that Taro put up. Also this is my first time linking back to another post so forgive me if the links may not work. Note that Taro is an absolute jackass over here, a smart one that’s for sure. There is no redeeming qualities for such a manipulative dude.)

<-- Prologue ||

*-*-*-*

The walk back home is filled with Osana’s commentary of what she did accompanied with anecdotes of what she and her close friend Raiburu did as well. She always looked at me to make sure I was paying attention to whatever she was raving on about and if I looked the least bit distracted she would go off on me and lecture me about paying attention to someone when they talked. I always gave that sheepish smile and scratch on the back, apologizing and watching with cold eyes as she became flustered and went on with me.

Now that her value has gone down the more she berates me, the more I can’t help but think of annoying she became. It’s quite sad to see that your favorite toy has become obsolete and there’s no amount of fixing you can do to return it back to its previous glory. The more “in love” Osana became the more I became repulsed at how she shows her affection. I mean, it was fun at first to decipher how contradictory her words were versus her feelings, and it was amusing to see her back track so quickly when I followed what she said, how her pride was being demolished at the same time being invigorated the more I played with her.

But now she’s become a nuisance.

I hope that girl does something fun with this defunct toy.

As we neared my house, Osana gave me an absent minded goodbye as she hurried off into her house. I stared at her retreating figure and sighed, oh Osana this is no way to deal with that unfortunate stalker of yours. Quickly hiding away hoping and praying to a God that your precious cat will miraculously be saved while doing absolutely nothing. This kind of passive behavior of yours used to be amusing, seeing you cling on to me like a sniveling child hoping justice would be served while you sit all so imperiously at that seat of good morals...

Well, that sort of ineptitude of yours did give me access to your cat.

It was slightly fun to read the ravings of a delusional fan boy, how he thanked me with such vigor and begged me to attend the wedding he would hold with Osana-- I mean, Pretty Miyuki or whatever it is that Osana resembled. If me messaging them to... do more than just threaten or blackmail Osana with the precious life of her cat then that’s for the stalker to know and for I to remain the blissful childhood friend of a trapped Osana.

But it wasn’t enough.

The stalker frustratingly had some morals, which was hilarious given the amount of things he had done and still a bottom line exist for such a cowardly man, which just left a bitter or incomplete aftertaste in my mouth. Osana was already in such a perfect position to just... tip off. Yet the stalker is giving Osana too many options within such a vague time frame, such fearful startegy just makes me feel as though the trade off I did was all for nothing...

But watching Osana try to live her normal life under an unneeded secrecy and suffering inside is a little bit more fun. Especially when she berates me even when in reality she’s the biggest coward here, both her and the stalker could be a match in heaven!

I absently put away my shoes and thundering footsteps crashed into me. I looked down in apathy as I saw the wide black eyes of my little sister, the one who desperately tried to keep me under wraps in order to protect that laughable family fantasy life she always wanted.

“Get off me.” I bluntly told her as I pushed her aside roughly, my skin prickling at the disgusting action she did, there was no parents or audience to act for and I’d rather be dead than voluntarily perform the vomit inducing sibling affection I had performed to fit in whatever mold people wanted of me, despite it making me want to tear my own skin off.

Hanako followed willingly, her eyes still trained on me and I was struck by how different and weak her gaze was compared to the other girl who I just bumped into with earlier.

“How was school, big brother?” Her sickly saccharine high pitched voice made me want to gag, I glared at her yet she didn’t budge. She was different from Osana as in she spent every waking moments of her life with me and thus became immuned to the dark glares I set her way. 

But that didn’t mean she was immune to the insidious schemes I have. After all, Hanako is just a young, delusional, girl. The only thing I respected about her was that she willingly tied herself to a sinking ship.

“Why do you ask these questions when you always ask Osana?”

Hanako tilted her head, eyes cutting straight at me in that practiced cutesy face of hers that charmed so many but made me repulsed. “Osana’s been... occupied lately. She barely even notices you as she’s strapped to her phone lately, neh, big brother... Osana’s never the type to stay glued on her phone and whenever a message notification rings she freezes up... I also haven’t seen her cat lately...” Hanako’s voice became hard as she looked at me with barely concealed rage in that innocent face of hers, “What did you.”

I smirked and brushed past her, “Why not ask your wonderful surveillance?”

I could feel Hanako’s sinister glare piercing my back as I headed to my room. Both my parents were out, father typically working while mother was finishing up in the grocery store, such a picturesque loving Japanese family...

One that made me smile when I watch them be anything but that perfect family when it comes to me.

I locked the door or else Hanako would barge into my room demanding to know what I had done to Osana, her beloved surviellance on me. Hanako was... somewhat like me, a defective one that’s for sure (but in reality who was defunct between the two of us?) Hanako used Osana’s feelings for her own gain as Osana liked me romantically and thus needed Hanako’s permission to date me especially with how attached she was to me. The girl used that, I could see how Hanako had instead twisted Osana’s permission into using Osana to watch over me and report back to her in both an attempt to win the little sister over and a way for Hanako to keep track of me so I wouldn’t ruin her perfect family, especially when she was in a different school.

It was worth it locking that girl in the shed and meeting privately with my parents. I didn’t even need to be concerned about Hanako’s attachment, I was already feeling as though Hanako was... pushing it a bit too hard. Luckily for her sweet life, our parents quickly agreed. So partial towards me that they would value my input more than the person in question, it brought a sugary smile on my face when I witnessed at how father snapped at Hanako when she tried to go back to Akademi High and the unimpressed borderline embarrassed look on mother’s face.

Watching Hanako’s face plummet to despair knowing she was outnumbered and pitted against the people she was breaking her mind over to protect was euphoric.

I stretched out and put away my things, methodologically and in a specific way. Living with Hanako has come with its... ups and downs. Hanako makes things amusing because she learned to be sneaky, quiet, and in a subtle way that if I didn’t accurately memorize where and when I put my things, I wouldn’t notice the signs she quietly slipped into my room to snoop. It was also fun to plant in some red herrings and watch as she becomes spirited with blackmail that could be used against me and instead be torn apart when the ‘proof’ she found was only another piece of me staking through her heart.

But it also proved to be annoying as just like human beings, Hanako has began to adapt frighteningly well, able to analyze whether or not the things I meticulously placed are just another part of my scheme or a folly of my own. Especially with teh age of technology I caught more than one hidden camera in my room, I couldn’t even bring it up on Hanako as she mysteriously was able to get my parents to turn a blind eye on it.

I wouldn’t say these factors outweighed how utterly amusing Hanako was. With every move she made against, I countered it with new innovative ideas. Hanako wasn’t like Osana, which is good because if I had to live with a mini Osana then there might have been another use for father’s beloved garden. It’s also hilarious to see how Hanako both utterly loves yet despises me. She loved me because I am just another puzzle piece in her family fantasy life yet at the same time I am the piece that consistently becomes looser and looser and the one to more often than not go missing, making a gaping hole in what otherwise should be a perfect puzzle picture.

She can’t even kill or get rid of me because of how chained our parents are towards me. No matter what Hanako does, either she goes or she finds a way to keep me in check.

Either way, it’s something I look forward to.

I slid out my laptop and opened it, I had more than one lock with varying passwords and misleading hints, even when I open folders and whatnot they’re always labeled incoherently with the files seemingly disorganized. I learned how to do this when Hanako somehow got access to my laptop, I still think it was Osana but to this day I doubt it as Osana would have felt immense guilt, unlike Hanako who would play up such a cute look that would physically give me diarrhea.

I checked out some of my classmates social media, looking at how their lives portrayed and wondered what I could do to mess with them. What sort of secrets I could use to trip up Info-chan’s database. What sort of past someone tried to bury. Then I checked out that hub of gossip led by, of course, Musume Ronshaku, it was a sort of underground hub of gossip circulating that reluctantly both Info-chan and I had a hand in founding. Honestly, we did this to dump any sort of dirty laundry secret for students outside of Akademi High, why did we work together?

Despite us being similar in a way that could repel one another, we were both competent enough to see how we were able to gather intel and we unanimously agreed to stay out of each other’s way when it comes to Akademi High but in other schools? Well, let’s just say despite Info-chan being insufferable she’s a good partner-in-crime, even more so when she isolated herself like that and can’t get first hand accounts of people unlike me.

Musume’s role in her was simple, she would be the instigator of these rumors. Even though the reason why we even had her within this circle was also simple. Despite Musume being, for a lack of a better term, appearing to be a bimbo... She is also the sole daughter of an infamous loan shark, so it’s only natural she’d pick up more devious tricks from her surroundings and upbringing. Why else could she pull the things she did in school without being reprimanded by the school and the student council, much to the latter’s annoyance?

Not only does she play an integral in keeping up the school’s atmosphere and reputation via her social media blogs and whatnot, but her family is the second one to contribute heavily to the school, the first being the Saikou family of course. She’s also an influential person of interest due to her social media as well as her family, and though she may look like a ditzy spoiled girl who only knows her daddy’s money, outside of school she’s a force to be reckon with.

It always did baffle me for a moment why she dialed down her shark like abilities when she was in school until it dawned on me that, as hilarious as this sounds, Musume Ronshaku found Akademi High to be a sort of santcuary where she gets to be daddy’s spoiled girl and not having to plan how to use someone who was teetering over to a standing only Musume herself could have. And looking back, I could see why nobody else could be at the same standing as Musume in Akademi High, but there were many big fishes out of the school so the girl herself probably couldn’t sleep at night without worrying about being upstaged.

My eyes strayed to a video about this violet haired girl with drill hair, I snickered, I wonder the sort of calamity would befall on Akademi High if Musume Ronshaku clashed with Kizana Sunobu.

It truly would be something to witness.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard someone knocking on my door. I swiftly locked my laptop and hid it away, opening the door I was greeted with the face of my mother who lit up upon me opening my door. “Taro, could you help me set up the table? Your father should be home soon, Hanako is finishing up the food.” She smiled, her kind face made the already soft and motherly smile stand out and any other person would be lucky to have her as a mother.

For me, she was just easy to manipulate. Being blinded by your own child is really useful.

“Okay, what’s for dinner mom?” I closed and locked my door, the key resting in my pocket. My mother turned a blind eye to me blatantly locking the door, probably trying to rationalize my behavior as a teen who needs privacy.

Mother’s eyes sparkled at me looking interested to whatever she was doing as she clapped her hands, “Your father’s favorite! There was a sale for steak and I quickly snatched it. Your father has been working hard for the promotion and today’s the day he’ll tell us about it. Whether or not he gets it, I hope that the food will help him.”

I smiled, “I sure do hope he passes.”

We both entered the kitchen and I ignored Hanako whose head instantly snapped at me, her eyes critically analyzing me before distracting mother who seemed a bit surprise I didn’t deign a greeting towards my little sister. This was also another bonus for having Hanako around, she gets to redirect the troublesome attention away from me. 

The rest of dinner was the same. When father came home I expected to see him come with good news since he brought gifts. Everyone cheered and I clapped with the biggest smile I could give, even nodding when father handed me some new games that I could play with my friends. Dinner started with bright spirits but even then I could feel Hanako’s unyielding eyes pierce through me. I do wonder what would happen if I pierced them out and eventually decided not to, Hanako would use this excuse to cling to me without any opposition from family or acquaintances.

After dinner, I helped with the chores and spent time with my parents and Hanako, playing some games together and laughing. All while Hanako was positively glowing, I snorted into my drink. The girl was fully intent in basking within such a happy family life that she’s slackening her hold on over me. Well, it doesn’t matter. Soon I’ll graduate and I fully intend on visiting this house when it’s a requirment by both the law and society.

When both my parents sent us children off to our rooms, Hanako stopped me in the hallway. The happy glowing smile of hers was gone and instead a cold look dawned on her face, “Don’t even think about abandoning this family, big brother.”

I sneered at her, “Do you really think a child can you can stop me? The only reason why you’re even alive is because I’d rather not be hounded by those two. But be careful Hanako...”

I leaned closer and revelled in the break of that cold facade this girl had, that instictual fear.

“Once I graduate, not even mother and father can stop me from killing you.”

I opened the door with a quick insertion of the key and locked it. Tilting my head to my door, I waited for that stupid girl to walk away. After a few quiet minutes, I could hear the soft thumps of footsteps walk away. I yawned and headed for my desk, completing some left over homework and checking messages of the latest things I need to be made aware of.

Nearing 10pm, I headed over to my bed and collapsed on it. My eyes strayed towards the ceiling. Once I graduate I can go to university, choose a career, work/study for it, and live on with that repetitive life...

That.

Sounds.

Utterly.

BORING.

After thinking that, suddenly my mind flitted to that girl. That girl with such intense eyes. That girl who was so much like me yet at the same time not.

... I smiled.

She better not disappoint me.

(Author’s Note: Okay, so this is the second part! I have made Hanako very different from canon, expected since I practically painted Taro a whole new color palette. I hope Hanako’s actions and thoughts seen through Taro’s eyes were understandable and the twisted sense Taro has over Hanako. Also Musume, she’s not my favorite character but I decided to have her included here because of the potential her backstory has with connection towards Dark Taro and a possible new elimination method exclusive to Kizana if we somehow touch that rival. As I’ve said, not everything is written in stone and I’m not sure if I’ll make a proper story for this, but I do have many ideas/headcanons about this story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as you’ve enjoyed the very first one! And for those who asked for more, congrats this is the second part!)

#yandere simulator #yansim #yan sim #yan sim taro yamada #yan sim hanako yamada #yan sim info-chan #yan sim musume ronshaku #yan sim yamada family #yan sim osana najimi #dark taro yamada #psychopathic taro yamada #yan sim fanfiction #yan sim fanwork #1st pov #dark taro is a whole new can of fucked up

[anoddworld]

Star-crossed

Journal Entry 1

An artistic rendition of the Supernatural Celestial, Galvana. I feel as though I forgot something... oh well.

#msm #my singing monsters #writing #starcrossed au #galvana #msm galvana #celestials #msm celestials #first person view #1st pov #alternate universe #its in a google doc #it was too long lmaoooo

[maybecharmingideas]

The Loner Girl

It had been raining nonstop since Monday, and today is Friday, as I slowly eat my breakfast, looking forward to another dreadful school day.

But, a couple days back, that all changed, when this new student had transferred to my school, and she was no ordinary transfer too. Today, she arrived, entering those double doors, in soaking wet beauty, her skin glinted with rain water from the outside, her hair dripping wet, and streamed down her spaghetti strap shirt, the strap hanging helplessly on her left bicep, while her large messenger bag's strap took its righteous place over her bare left shoulder and collar bone. With my heart pounding, I quickly dumped my breakfast, only to lose her in the throngs of the crowd. Later she emerged, holding her books over her chest with one arm, as she made her way, of all place, my table. She didn't notice, or didn't care, that I was there, as she places her books down on the table, sat down, and began her studies. I couldn't take my eyes off of her; her slender body, her long, slender neck, collar bones galore, that diamond-shaped face... She was much too beautiful to be by herself.

She was tall, probably 5'10"-5'11" I assumed, and slender, so I assumed automatically she's a model, especially with that slender frame.

When the teacher made her introduce herself to the class a couple days back, Sequoia Auburn Parker, or simply "Sequoia", was a very fitting name for this girl who looks like a model, and despite being lonely, she has already garnered popularity status in this school, and I can see why. Besides her model-like looks, she's also very smart, though she doesn't look the part. During the lessons I couldn't help but notice her spaghetti strap had fallen further down her arm, and was pinched in the crook of her elbow as she took her notes down from both the chalkboard and the teacher's lectures.

Lunch came, and I saw her set her tray down on the table, then removed her bookbag from her shoulder, the spaghetti strap still hanging helplessly next to her skinny bicep, as she sat down to eat her food.

But today, I hope to become her friend....

#short story #short scenario #scenario #school #high school #fiction #1st person #1st pov

[vosedy]

Short (experimental)

Not That You Don't Already Know...

You know, growing up in a cult, I'd been in my fair share of dungeons.

After my fair share of crimes in the name of our belief and people converted to essentially ruin their lives for the same cause, I left, through many struggles. I joined a fairly sized party of adventurers that met up with me when I was fleeing the city, and they're quite a powerful bunch. In just a few months of travelling with them, we had managed to take down a giant with only seven of us in total -- and one of those party members was no more than an intelligent magic animal.

It was a difficult life, similar to the one I had escaped, but the adventuring life was also a much better-paying one. Not that that's why I left the cult -- and getting locked up in dungeons on the regular was only a tiny reason why I had left. You know, besides the obvious.

To end up right back in a jail cell, one where the guards knew me by name, was the furthest thing from my expectations.

"Could ya shut up!" I snap, turning to glare at you, a too-charismatic and proud half-elf who didn't find it dangerous to piss off the armed guards that threw us in here.

You had been singing our story of capture on the fly, which certainly is an admission that wouldn't be overlooked if we made it out alive to even attend a trial -- of course, I haven't answered to my crimes of the past yet, either, so I wasn't planning to stick around.

Keagan was in the cell, too. And while he wasn't as charismatic as you, he seemed to flourish under your confidence. 

He was the backup singer in your ridiculous little dungeon song. A song which, despite my outburst, hasn't ceased.

I was thankful that neither of you mentioned the contempt the guards didn't bother to hide when it came to me, and luckier still that they didn't lock me in with anyone from the same cult. Though, to be fair, being chained to the wall seemed a little more drastic than before and I could only assume the treatment was due to my or the cult's notoriety around here. A shame the two of you had gotten shackled too. Doubly so that you were using the chains to cause me a headache in the tune of your ditty.

Now -- the guards used to heckle me and family when it was cult-related. When I heard the guards muttering amongst themselves for a moment, and then it goes silent, I was surprised. The jingle carried on and where I was expecting an outburst from the guards came nothing.

I waited a few more moments, wondering if the guards were talking about us before they burst in.

But they didn't. Burst in, that is. They let the two of you go on with your song, and they let the two of you begin a new one.

Before you had started with your first song, I had been trying to pick open the cuffs. Worried the guards would come and check if I was up to anything while they'd scold you two for being so annoying, I shoved the pouch of tools under my shirt and sort of waited. Anxious on and off. I had this bad feeling in my gut that the guards would find out and I'd be the cause of so much more trouble.

I was able to free one of my hands by the time your second song finished, just a minute after it began.

Before you started with yet another new tune, Keegan turned to me and asked, "Hey, Vidal. Did you know those guards? They-"

"Oh!" You gasp quietly, though we heard it pretty loud in the

now-silent dungeon, "If we're digging these kinds of questions up for curiosity's sake, Keegan, how's your family? I saw you got a letter from them recently. What was that all about?"

The chains clink together as Keegan looks down.

You shoot a shrug at me, but you knew what you were doing, didn't you?

"Anyways, Keegan," you continued. "How about another? When I'm a long way from home-"

Keegan shakes off your previous comment and picks right back up with another song, so I put my ear to the last cuff restraining me, prodding and turning the picks until it clicks off, the clanking of the cuffs masked by the music.

 You can't suppress the smile as you sing, watching me creep forward until I was pressed against the bars, unable to catch more than a glimpse of the guards hidden around the wall. They were probably anxious for an armed mass of cult followers to come break us out in a blaze of chaos just like last time. At least, because of their worry being misdirected, they'll be ill-prepared when the three of us sneak out (hopefully, if you'll stay silent long enough to finally successfully sneak across a hallway!). I might be optimistic, but I hoped we could accomplish such a task without the guards even turning to face us - if we were far out of town before they even noticed.

Unfortunately (fortunately?) I have no cultish backing tonight. Just you two bumbling idiots. There would be no legendary breakout. If one of my picks break, or if we're caught, there would be no breakout.

Miraculously, we escaped. And flawlessly too. It seemed that all the divines were shining down on us and blessing us with incredible luck the latter half of that night.

When we were on the road you were celebrating our silent departure, in typical fashion, by being loud and obnoxious. I could only scowl.

"See!" You say, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and making sure we stayed in such a position despite my physical protests. "I knew it would work. And beautifully, it did," you smirk. With a deep breath and that plastered smirk, you remove your arm and walk ahead as though the paparazzi were watching you strut down the catwalk, and you weren't one to disappoint.

You had that... that strange -- oh, how do I describe it? A feline quality of wisdom, I suppose. You always had a glimmer of knowledge behind your blue eyes, elf. That's always worried me, like you knew the future and were directing us right down the path you wanted to see played out.

It's as I'm struggling to piece together my thoughts about you that you turned around, finished with your catwalk. You looked my way and smirked, winking at just the moment no one was watching us.

It really did seem like you knew something you shouldn't.

"Why do I tell you this?" I hum to myself. I was almost talking to a corpse. Sorry, friend, but it is nearly your time.

"You were always clever. Especially when you thought about what you should say, so, the wording of your letter to me might have been as strange as you wanted. Either that, or I'm making a stupid mistake in thinking you really do have some knowledge that transcends logic.

"If there's one thing you don't know, it'd be preferences, right? So there. My favourite memory of us."

You wrote us a letter, after all. I guess you knew your day was coming.

Well, after reading the contents of your message to me, you had more than just a feeling. You knew, like it was written in a book.

And you knew about me, too. You knew which alley I'd be hidden in, half dead from exhaustion after a week of fleeing my past.

You knew how we'd get arrested, and how we'd break out. You knew the following travel would be exhausting, and you kept our spirits up with your ridiculous humour.

I think about your question again - something I definitely should have done before I went on this spiel. Though, taking a few more minutes wouldn't do any harm.

"Yeah," I mutter to your side. "Yeah... That's my favourite memory."

I pat your arm, cold to the touch.

You've been so still and silent, it's hard to believe you're still alive, hanging on.

If I wasn't the only one surviving, I wouldn't have to make such a decision alone.

You lived longer than the rest of the party- or, I guess, we did. I did.

I sigh, giving you a final goodbye before I hand your fate over to the doctors who will let you get some peace. Perhaps, if you were religious, you'll get to rest alongside your family, whoever they are.

Or, you'll join the rest of the party, wherever their souls have gone.

I'm not too sure, but I'll keep your letter. I'll live on and do my best to clean up my act and scrub my past. I'll make up for it, too.

Even when I collapsed into tears, you didn't believe me long ago when I said I've tried before, so this time, I really will.

I really will.

#original writing #my writing #creative writing #writing prompt #i dont know what this is #writeblr #fiction #story ideas #1st pov #slight angst

[rosedmuse]

on my way home; for harusoie 550 & valentine's 2023

Closing my eyes, I take a little breather. I know there's no use panicking over ending yet another day still with unfinished business; but working under pressure isn't quite a forte of mine. There's just too much to do; so much to learn. I could almost feel myself being a mere few ticks away from exploding like a bomb. Figuratively, at least. (I think.) "Seonne?" But a familiar voice, as lovely as sweet mornings, seem to pulse a series of the calmest waves within me; immediately feeling as though the invisible weights have been relieved from my chest. My home and my refuge. All becomes well when he's here.

A tired stance. An aching head. A conflicted sigh. Dim lights illuminating countless scripts, formulas, and illustrations. Buried deep into one textbook after another for hours, jutting down important notes all while. But I can't stop until I have seen and remembered each and every one of them. Unfortunately. I glance at the clock, unknowingly. It's the setting sun I catch a glimpse of through the curtains that hints me of nightfall coming very soon. Closing my eyes, I take a little breather. I know there's no use panicking over ending yet another day still with unfinished business; but working under pressure isn't quite a forte of mine. There's just too much to do; so much to learn. I could almost feel myself being a mere few ticks away from exploding like a bomb. Figuratively, at least. (I think.) "Seonne?" But a familiar voice, as lovely as sweet mornings, seem to pulse a series of the calmest waves within me; immediately feeling as though the invisible weights have been relieved from my chest. My home and my refuge. All becomes well when he's here. "Haruto-san!" I quickly rise, eager to hold him close after a long day's worth of suffering hard work. "Great timing, as always." "Naturally." He proceeds to plant a soft kiss atop of my head. (Odd, the ache's magically gone.) "So, how are you?" I groan heavily in response. He only lets out a small chuckle. "That's alright. Hereー"he places a cold drink on the table, "ーgot ya yer favorite." "...You really didn't have to." "But I want to." And then there's absolutely no way I can argue any further with that. Simply flashing him a smile, he pushes a straw into the lid, and offers it to me afterwards. I mouth the words 'thank you' but I received an 'I love you' in return. Really, he's impossible sometimes. But that's just what makes him everything I could ever ask for. Haruto sits next to my chair Despite turning my focus back to the textbook in front of me, I could still feel his pretty, lilac eyes watching my every move. I take a small sip of the drink he bought; as I secretly brace myself for the next set of teases, jokes, and pranks I believe he is to throw at me right about... now. "I'm... sorry I can't help ya there." Using every ounce of energy in my body to force myself not to spit the awfully large sip I just made in anticipation, I remain still. Out of all the things I half-expected him to say, that isn't even in the list. "Wh-where did that come from?" I try to pump up the mood by unleashing my most cheerful self but stammering before I could even begin my sentence is unironically doing wonders for my anxiety. "I just..." Haruto falters, "I want to help you with that college stuff of yers, but..." "Haruto-san, no!" I hurriedly take both his hands in mine, my voice trembling more and more as I continue snatching whatever words I can from my blank slate of a brain. "I swear, just your presence here with me is already more than enough help. You know very well that all I need is you, remember?" But he doesn't respond. Not right away. And the ache's gone to my heart. "I know this isn't the time to bring this up but..." He takes a long, deep breath. "It's never too late for you to come back to theater; to the stage." Like him, I take my time to react. We've had a heart-to-heart talk about this exact same thing not so long before, I remember it as clear as day. It was a hard topic to discuss, and it still is today; but then, it's going to be an issue we will keep having misunderstandings about if we keep running away from it. Maybe now's the time we finally get this all over with. "Haruto-san," I say quietly, as I swallow down the lump in my throat, "You already know that that's exactly the reason why I'm going through all this, right?" As if unable to hold his tongue and temper in check any longer, Haruto clicks his tongue, and with very furrowed brows, he sternly says, "that's the reason everyone else forced you to believe in and do, Seonne." A hole pierces straight into the depths my heart. A wound. I considered squeezing myself out of the hot seat as I would usually do, but not a single lie of mine can get through him. Haruto knows me too well that it's both flattering and quite scary at the same time. Probably realizing his sudden semi outburst, Haruto hastily diverts his gaze away from me. "...Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." He appears to be torn between leaving or staying, but I stop him with a tight hug from his behind his back before he could even come up with a decision. "That's what I love about you," I say languidly into his clothes. "Hah?" "I said," I repeat, raising my head up a few inches to meet his eyes already staring onto mine, "That's what I love about you. "You were courageous enough to leave everything behind to pursue your first loveーacting." He turns around to face me whilst not wanting to detatch himself too much from my grasp. "Too bad I wasn't able to do the same. And I regret it every second of my life. But you inspire me, Haruto-san, and you've been the very reason why I too can never let go of my first loveーdance." "Seonne..." "I just know I need to do this, Gen-chan." I gently lean onto his forehead with mine, and he melts unto my touch in an instant. "I have something I want to prove to myself and the people around me. Surely we're on the same page on knowing that kind of feeling." "...Hell yeah, yer right," he affirms in his cute Kansai dialect. I take this as a good sign, for he has this tendency to lose his standard Japanese accent when he's in a really genuine mood. "Then you'll let me do this. Trust me, I won't give up on you nor any of my goals and dreams." I wait patiently for him to accept my conviction, but after sensing that he seems to be waiting for me as well to say some magic word, I profoundly give in. "I promise we'll one day stand together to share GOD-za's centerstage, just as what we have always been meant to do." Looking content, Haruto's face lights up with a proud smile. He takes my hand and presses another kiss at the back of my palm. "I expect no less from you, Seonne. I'll be waiting." "I love you more, Haruto." "Haaah?" he growls, his eyebrows all knitted again, "That should be my line, damn it!" People may think it's romantic. Some, a waste of time. Others, most likely indifferent. But none of that matters; for all we need to strive on forward with our lives are already within our reach. Passion. Ambition. And one another, as each other's safest sanctum. Don't worry, Haruto-san. I mentally tell myself, as he drags me out of his apartment; his two younger brothers already by the front yard, each of them holding bouquets and chocolates to match the special occasion. I'm on my way home.

#harusoie #a3! yume #a3 yume #self-shipping #self-insert #1st pov #vent fic #valentines day

[panevanbuckley]

my favourite thing about apollo is that, even in life and death situations, he'll still say shit like, 'his chin was so weak I was tempted to create a gofundme campaign to buy him a better jaw.' about the guy trying to kill him. this dork is so petty and I love him for it

#like i don't usually opt for 1st person pov books but apollo's pov is so uniquely funny that i literally don't care #pjo #trials of apollo #apollo #my favourite god

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

Maybe this is too hyper-specific but I just fucking love??? the stance??? of whumpee lying on the ground and whumper standing over top of them???

"But Danny that's so generic--" yes, okay, but listen. Listen...I am talking about whumpee on the ground, injured, unable to get up, had probably just been crawling away before the last of their strength gave out. And then there comes whumper's legs into view. Whumpee doesn't even have the strength to look up, doesn't know if they'd even want to. And here's where the good shit comes in:

Whumper nudging Whumpee's side with their shoe like they're playfully checking if they actually died, or maybe really checking, or maybe just testing to see if there's any fight left

Whumper kicking a weapon that had been mere centimeters from Whumpee's reach, bonus points if they purposely catch Whumpee's hand under their foot and bear their weight down

Whumper using their heel to kick Whumpee's shoulder and force them to roll over on their back, now forcing them to look up and see Whumper (plus the beautiful imagery of Whumper leering down at them while Whumpee is symbolically beneath them...*chef's kiss*)

Whumper straddling their feet on either side of Whumpee's hips, or chest, or head; anything to have them confined between Whumper's legs from where they stand

Whumper suddenly dropping down into a crouch when Whumpee had only been able to look at their shins before, startling them, now hyperaware how close Whumper has made themself to accommodate this new position

Whumper instead continuing to go about their business, completely ignoring Whumpee on the ground, who can now only helplessly watch their retreating form as Whumper carries out whatever they originally had planned before Whumpee got in the way

Whumper stepping on fresh wounds, stepping on Whumpee's neck to choke them, stepping on Whumpee's head and holding their foot in place until they're done speaking whatever it is they want to say

Whumper that asks "are you done?" "that's it?" "so, was it worth it?" because if Whumpee is already at their feet, they might as well grovel a little

#whump #whump community #whump scenario #whumpee #whumper #whump ideas #implied whump #whump prompt #this is all....very much inspired by one exact COD scene (we are shocked!!!! said no one) #in which a shadow member was in this exact same position and it was literally a 15 second scene and also he was shot but #BUT!!!!! #it was a 1st person POV so OOOF i was blushing those 15 seconds sorry #big masked military armed men can do whatever they want

[cheriboms]

need i say more 🕴

#back to the future #bttf #marty mcfly #michael j fox #my arts #how do i tag #this was gonna be my post yesterday before i saw the pic of crispin and lea lol. but i still liked it so yeah u guys can have it now :P #me when two marties at the same place on the same day 🤯🤯 #also that second outfit is the funniest thing ever #pov ur in 1955. 1st pic when ur parent [read: “uncle”] dresses u vs 2nd pic when u dress urself #he felt so cool for what #silliest boy ever <3 #also trying a slightly different style. idk if ill keep it? i was just trying stuff out w simplifying likeness etc #i dont think this is a v good example but i do have a proper headshot that i think actually looks like mjf so like. yah #we will see if/when i post that. im getting really off topic sorry bye

[anonomi]

miscellaneous... you can tell my obsession with skies. and blue. and spies. blu spies.

#tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #sniperspy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanart #myart #i really like drawing like this so i think i will continue #i am mixed about the 1st pic but at this point there r so many layers it's like working airplane controls to draw #also the last pic is from snipers pov but i am too lazy to draw any indication of his hands lol

[astarioffsimpmain]

I'm sick, I feel terrible, and I'm having Halsin thoughts.

This is self indulgent, don't look at me.

○ I want to curl up against this man's chest and purr like a cat. I feel like death warmed over so maybe, just maybe, being so close to his strong and consistent heartbeat will make me feel a little bit closer to life

○ I just know he'd play with my hair, even just absent-mindedly. Braid it, un-braid it, braid it again, run his fingers through it, pet it (I'm gonna purr again, just you wait), etc. Honestly, if Halsin playing with my hair for hours didn't put me to sleep, I don't DESERVE to sleep

○ He'd find healing herbs to reduce my symptoms and help me get through my sickness a little easier. "Here you are, my heart. Do not drink it quickly, the effects will last much longer if you sip. Good, my dove."

○ If I felt a little better one day, he'd convince me to take a walk with him in the woods because "nature can heal all ailments." But he'd feel guilty for taking me out so soon when, by nightfall, I was wheezing again, my head aching so badly I couldn't keep my eyes open. "It's alright," I'd tell him. "Nature is just taking its time with me." He would still feel responsible, but he would know I didn't blame him, and that would ease his mind

○ In the evenings, he would insist on cradling me to his chest as he slipped into trance, not wanting to delve too deep and possibly miss something I might need upon waking. I would try to tell him I'd be alright for a few hours without monitoring, but he wouldn't have it, gathering me up against his bare chest. I wouldn't complain either, curling closer to his warmth as his strong arms surrounded me and protected me

○ When the fever struck and no amount of layers could warm me, he would wildshape into a bear and wrap his furry body around me like a living heated blanket, and only then would the ice in my bones abate enough to stop shivering and rest. When he sensed that my fever had broken, and I had started sweating into his fur, he would nudge me gently with his snout until I awoke, then would transform back into an Elf to pat down my glistening skin with a cloth

○ Once I showed improvement over the course of several days, we would step outside once again. I'd be able to tell how much he'd missed being amongst the trees, and I'd feel guilty for keeping him from it. But he would see it in my eyes and admonish me tenderly. "I chose to be beside you, my heart, and I do not regret it. Nature will always be there when I return, but I may not always be lucky enough to have your beautiful eyes looking upon me. I cherish every moment that they are."

○ I would promise him quietly, later on that evening when all was quiet and still, and we were wrapped up in each other with myself on the mend, that I would always do the same for him should anything - even something as seemingly trivial as a cold - should ever befall him. He would hum against the flushed skin of my chest and pull me closer, his lips pressing his answer straight into my heart.

#listen. #listen. I- #I am not sorry #no lie I feel a lil better now 😆 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin headcanons #1st person #1st person pov #indulgent bg3

[yesloulou]

💫💫💫

#max verstappen #f1 #* #** #pov 1st gif is when he noticed (whatever floats ur boat im going with lestappen on this one) flirting w other men :( :) :(

[hylialeia]

the more I read and re-read other fantasy, the more impressive asoiaf becomes to me in its unabashed embrace of the darkness in its characters' POVs. and I don't mean in the "edgelord grimdark" way that so many people (wrongly) ascribe to it, or even in the "historical accuracy" way that so many people use to defend it. I mean more in the way it actually aids in the immersion of the world and story.

other fantasy series will relay the events and the world through their characters, sure, but I never realized just how censored they feel in comparison to asoiaf. things happen, characters feel a certain kind of way about them and relay that to me-the-reader. then they do things, plot happens, etc. sometimes it's quite compelling, even! but in asoiaf, I-the-reader am a brain parasite. the characters think thoughts they would never tell me. I see their worst impulses, their immediate instincts, their intrusive thoughts. a lot of it is unsavory, but it's done in such a way that it all feels deeply real and true to life.

in asoiaf, the characters are not telling me the story; I've invaded their internal dialogue am drinking it in through their biased yet genuine perspectives. I feel less like a reader and more like a ghost that's possessed them through the page. and I think that's the thing that the sets the series apart from others for me

#of course to sell that you also need to have compelling characters and action and worldbuilding that aids the immersion #but the deepness of that pov is unmatched to me. not even 1st person stories capture it #no one in priory of the orange tree is being honest with me they're relaying the story and sometimes revealing vulnerable truths #but asoiaf. tyrion wouldn't tell me half this shit. I'm hacked into his brain #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf meta

[mirrorhouse]

[MGSV Script] Although he is seriously injured as well, his concern about his own condition is overpowered by his concern for Snake, who he fears may possibly die. Miller tries to suppress this fear.

#i figured out where this room is so i could freecam into it during this scene #the 1st one is (approximate) kaz pov #anyway. you ever think about how a whole lot couldve been avoided if bb just died here #also dyou think they brought kaz a new pair of glasses or theyre just extremely durable #mgs #kazuhira miller #big boss #bbkaz

[ze-writing-qprs]

Bad Day?

Velvette x Model GN!Reader [QPR]

Queer-Platonic Relationship [🩷] (can be read as romantic)

Short & sweet (Fluff/Comfort)

written in 1st person reader pov

Willing to make part 2 if the people want it👍

“Are you stupid! Those pants look daft, do you want to lose your job?”

“Those look bloody dreadful and NOT in a good way. Get out of my sight.”

The set was busy, I could hear Velvette fussing about the designers’ incompetence from the door. Assistants and models rushed around in a hectic manner desperate to please her or to flee the scene before they became a victim. Today was my day off, but I wanted to see Velvette.

“Hi, Love,” I looped an arm around Velvette’s neck loosely, “are you doing alright?”

“Ugh, not at all, Darling,” Her arms dropped to the side as she leaned into the partial hug, searching for a bit of relaxation.

“How about after this set we go sit down for a bit and have some lunch?”

“That sounds amazing.”

My other arm found her waist as she turned to fully lean into me. I massaged the back of her neck with the arm resting around her shoulder. Her hands circled my waist and hugged for comfort. We stood like that for a few minutes.

Kissing the top of her head I gently push her weight off of me. She frowned, still holding on to me.

“Let's finish this last set of clothing and then we can cuddle, ok?” I reiterate my previous suggestion.

Velvette narrowed her eyes at me, “You better hold up to that promise.”

#hazbin hotel velvette #Velvette #velvette x reader #x reader #comdey #comfort #fluff #1st person #reader pov #hazbin hotel #hazbin #voxtech #overlord velvette #velvette is so pretty #short story #fic #fanfiction #qpr #queer platonic relationship #ace reader #asexual reader #aro reader #aromantic reader

[slicznymartwy]

I’m not sure if your comfortable with it, but if it’s alright, can I request Billy Lenz and the reader (established relationship) having some sort of conversation on his past and the reader comforting him?

this one is rlly sad im sorry :(( this is mostly hc since i've only ever watched the original 1974 film, so idk if this lines up with the canon from the other movies. from what i know about it, i think it's similar. no mention of agnes in this warning: sa of a minor mention, please do not read if that bothers you. also, reader insert was abused/beaten by their mom. very sad take care of yourselves please

☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x gn!reader

Night fills your bedroom and coats itself on the floors and walls, except for where the yellow streetlamp spills in past your curtains. Sparing a glance to the alarm clock on your bedside table, you see the time is so late it could already be considered early. 

Still, you can’t think about sleep; not when Billy is laying beside you and the house is blissfully empty, two things so rare that it almost seems serendipitous. You’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you keep staring at the ceiling and let the warmth of his body radiate into yours.

“Billy,” you whisper into the quiet room. “Are you asleep?”

You can hear him grunt and squirm beside you, and you feel bad for waking him. It wasn’t often he got a full night’s rest on a bed, and you knew for a fact that there was no mattress in the attic. There were only so many chances to have Billy and the house all to yourself, though, and you don’t want to squander it.

“Billy,” you say again, nudging him with your foot.

He grunts again, but it sounds more cognisant than before. He reaches over himself to pat your arm, almost like he’s quieting down a noisy cat, and you can feel his hand trail down to your own. His palm covers the back of your hand, and he threads his fingers in between yours, curling them down together. 

It’s a gesture so sweet that you’re tempted to let him fall back asleep. There’s no helping your addiction to him, though, and you tighten your fingers on top of his.

“I’m not tired,” you say with a pout. “I wanna talk.”

This time, Billy groans, low and long. You think it might be out of annoyance, but you can feel him stretching out beside you, straightening his long legs underneath the covers. He huffs when he’s done, eyes blinking open.

You love his pretty eyes, an orangey amber that you were always getting lost in, no matter how unsettling they could be. It always felt like he was staring into you, like he could see the marrow in your bones.

You loved his intensity. It made you feel alive when the rest of the world was tired and grey.

“Hi,” you say, reaching over with you unoccupied hand to touch his jaw. “I didn’t ask before. How was your day?”

He’s quiet for a long time, and you wonder if he can fall asleep with his eyes open, but then he says, “Bad.” 

The word hangs in the air. Billy’s face gives up nothing, a blank page with no words of his own to say. You frown and pull your hand back from his face to rest on your own chest. The other stays in his hold, neither of you willing to let go.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, although it doesn’t surprise you when Billy shakes his head against your pillow.

“Okay.” You squeeze against his fingers again, pulling gently on his arm so that it rested more heavily on top of you. The bedroom air is quiet, but your mind continues to race. It’ll be good for him to get it off his chest, you tell yourself.

“Is it something old or something new?”

He thinks about your words for a while, but then you hear him mutter, “Old.”

“Bad memories?” you ask, looking back at him. He blinks at you, then nods.

“I get bad memories, too.” You lean against him slightly, and glance up at the ceiling. “From when you were a kid?”

This time, Billy shrugs. You know you shouldn’t push him, but your heart aches to see him hurt and to not have the rememdy.

You turn around and let go of him for only a moment. You search for his hand again, this time with the opposite one to press your hands together, palm to palm. Your fingers entwine so easily, so naturally, that it makes your heart ache.

Maybe he just needs to know he’s not alone in whatever bullshit he’s had to endure in his life. Maybe it will help to know that you have bad memories too.

“My mom used to hit me,” you admit quietly. You stare at the way your hands mesh together, with your nails polished and Billy’s own chewed up. “She used to take my stepdad’s belt and hit me with it. Used to just be the leather part, but then she would swing the buckle at me too. She broke a tooth, but it was just a baby one. My adult teeth grew in alright.”

You keep your voice casual as you speak, because facts are facts, and there’s no reason to get upset about something you can’t change anymore. Besides, you reminesce about your childhood so infrequently that it feels like it all happened to another person. 

You remember the beatings like you’re watching it happen to someone else – something else, because you don’t feel bad for them when they can’t sit at school because of the welts on their ass. You don’t bat an eye when their mom has to take them to the doctor to reset their broken nose.

“Bitch,” Billy spits out from beside you, and you have to laugh at the venom dripping in his voice.

“I don’t talk to her anymore,” you tell him, smiling sadly. You glance at him, but it’s hard to look at the mean look on his face. It probably isn’t for you, but your mind is traitorous and too sensitive.

Even worse, Billy could be mad on your behalf. No, you can’t think about that either, not when you’ve spent so long pretending that it didn’t really happen.

“Anyways. All that to say, I know what it’s like, having bad memories. You don’t have to tell me, just… I’m here for you,” you say, running your thumb along his hand where they’re still locked together.

“Want to,” he mutters, voice croaking unnaturally as he speaks in his own voice.

Quietly, you release his hand and instead wrap yourself around him, laying partially on top. He lets out a heavy sigh as you settle, with your arm coming up to rest by his head and your same-side leg resting over his hips. He watches the ceiling, and you watch his face from where you lay your ear to his chest

“Bad billy. Disgusting,” he mutters, and you pet his cheek with the back of your hand.

“I don’t think so.” You keep your voice careful and quiet, but he sighs and its agitated. Pent up memories start to overfill, and you can see it on his face.

“Mommy,” he starts, but his voice breaks and he coughs to clear his throat. “Mom. Fucking hate her. I hate her. Stupid fucking slut. She’s disgusting. Not me. Not Billy.”

You take your hand away from his face, watching how his expression continues to contort, mixing between anger and disgust and fear. It wrenches your heart in your chest.

“You’ve been so good, Billy. You’re not disgusting.”

“I hate her. I hate her,” he chants again. “Oh, Billy! Shut up!”

When he says his own name, it sounds like a feminine moan. You almost don’t understand, but the implication dawns on you only a moment later. It’s not difficult to piece it all together: his rage, the names he calls himself, the moan. You feel sick.

“Hey, we can stop,” you try gently, but Billy either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t want to stop.

“No one needs to know, Billy. Be a good boy.” You can’t look at his face anymore, the ugly way it scrunches up hurts you down to you core. Guilt claws at you from inside, and you wish you knew the right thing to say but you don’t. The truth, you decide, is enough for now.

“I hate her, too,” you tell him, and it sounds a little wet. You don’t let yourself cry, but your heart breaks for a younger Billy, afraid and confused. 

“That’s my mom,” he says. You don’t know what he’s trying to convey when he says that – if he wants you to pity her, or if he’s sharing his betrayal with you. He whines, a painfully soft noise that gets trapped in his throat.

Gently, carefully, you card your fingers through his hair where you can reach, and you kiss his shoulder.

“She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore,” you tell him, although you don’t know if it’s true. You do know that, as long as you’re by his side, there’s no way you’ll let that woman touch him again.

“I wish I could kill her,” he says through clenched teeth. His voice is thick, like he might be crying. You can’t bare to look. Billy’s grief melts into you like it’s thermodynamics, heat into cold, and you can only hope that you can take some of his and ease his mind.

“How would you do it?” you whisper, pressing your hand over his hammering chest.

“Cut… cut her head off. Smash it like a pumpkin. Oh, Billy! Good boy, Billy. Shut up!” His voice breaks when he shouts. He coughs, then gasps for air, his breath shaking as he fights against the tightenness in his throat. “I’ll turn her teeth into pumpkin seeds,” he snarls.

Without warning, you move yourself to lay completely on top of him, pressing against his body with your body weight. He groans, and you’re sure you must be squishing him, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, his arms come up around you, hooked under your arms and pressing you against him with his hands at your shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” you tell him, pressing your face against his neck. “You’re okay now. It’s just us in here. Just me and you.”

“I hate her,” he whimpers again. “I hate her. I hate her.”

You don’t say anything, because you don’t think there are any words that could possible take away his hurt without also being a complete lie. Underneath your body, you can feel Billy start to relax, grounded back to reality from the rotten memories playing in his head.

“I’m sorry today was a bad day. We can have a good one tomorrow,” you say. It’s an impossible thing to promise, but you mean it like one. You’ll make sure Billy has a good day, whether fate wants it or not.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll kill your mom too.”

“Thank you,” you say. You kiss his temple, and he leans into your lips.

© slicznymartwy 2023, please do not repost or copy.

a/n: reblogs and replies are really appreciated

#billy lenz #black christmas (1974) #billy lenz x reader #slasher x reader #₊*. ⋆༘ — requests #i'm sorry if the pov changes anywhere accidentally #please ignore if i accidentally left in a 1st person pov mention i think i fixed most of it #if not .. forgive me pls #i shouldnt admit this but ive been messing around on c.ai #but its the worst thing ever idk why people rave about it #writing ur own fanfic >>>>> #its such a waste of time refreshing for a better response #when i know what i want them to say .. its just letting people be lazy #i want to shake everyone using it and tell them to just write their own stuff #its so much more rewarding #anyways i am ovulating and thinking about cod men .. its a terrible curse idk why i let this happen

[moonsun2010]

While searching the wreck of the Demeter for more survivors, a camera was found. Though most of the data was corrupted, some clips were salvaged.

Inspired by this post.

#my art #dracula daily #dracula #the demeter #i cheated and read ahead there was no way i could draw this in real time aha. in my defense uni is beginning and this IS a reading... #every attempt to add film grain to this just made it look bad so none #took some creative liberty in that in the text captain stays silent but here he does exclaim outloud #sailors look away from the inaccurate ship lines... my shame #cw suicide #pov is entirely from the captains btw the last pic is Not from the 1st mates perspective #tw scopophobia