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stormflower8 · 8 months

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take some south asian!ballister headcanons

okay so ballister is, at least partially, based off of his va, Riz Ahmed, who is south asian/pakistani (like me!) and speaks Urdu (like me!), so I think I have some stuff to throw in the Headcanon Pot

when ballister was in the orphanage before he did his whole Jump The Gate Out Of Spite And Desire To Become A Knight, he primarily spoke Urdu and was in the process of learning english

also, when people learn english in countries that don't speak english, they typically learn british english, which ties in nicely to ballister's canon accent

this means that he had to learn a fair amount of english at the institute

he might've also been bullied for his questionable grammar and accent by todd and the other knights

ambrosius did his best to help in teaching ballister english and mostly helped in his grammar and vocabulary. they went through a little phase where ballister would pick up more obscure objects and ambrosius would say the english word for them.

ambrosius has only heard ballister speak urdu a handful of times, but every time it happens, he swears he falls a little more in love with him

after he was regarded as completely fluent in english, he didn't speak much urdu, but he never forgot it

post-canon, he once went on a tangent in urdu and nimona heard him and her jaw just DROPPED

"you're bilingual?? why didn't you tell me??" "you never brought it up...?" (doesn't think it's a big deal)

she thinks it's the coolest thing ever and went through a phase where she tried to piss off ballister JUST to hear him talk in urdu

eventually, he realized what was going on and had to sit her down and explain "you don't have to do all that, all you have to do is ask and I'll talk to you in urdu."

she definitely exploited that eagerly, but she still occasionally does the whole "piss him off just to hear the rambling of Words She Doesn't Understand" for fun

ballister has absolutely no idea that both ambrosius and nimona love how he speaks urdu or he would talk way more in it

honestly I love the concept of ballister speaking urdu, but almost always when I'm speaking urdu it's for a joke, so I've kinda ruined that language for myself LMAO

also, about the south asian thing of eating pretty much everything with one's hands,

first day in the mess hall. ballister grabs the food that looks the most familiar to him- rice

sits down at a table alone and starts to eat with his hands (or is it "eat with his hand"? he's only using one hand to eat but it feels strange to have hand in singular here)

immediately todd, who was going to go pick on him anyways, notices and makes a huge deal about it

the next day, ballister did his best to work with the fork, but it was an adjustment and he stuck out like a sore thumb with his clumsiness with the utensils

when he was befriended by ambrosius, they would sit together in the mess hall

at first, ambrosius tried to help ballister become more comfortable using utensils, and ballister was eager to learn

until one day he just thinks to himself "what am I doing? the same thing as todd but nicer?"

that's when he starts sneaking meals into his room so he and ballister can eat in there together- alone, peacefully, and with whatever damn utensils (or lack thereof) they want

ballister would eat with his hands, ambrosius used chopsticks, they would chill and vibe and, when they got older, slowly fall in love (or quickly, if you're ambrosius simp goldenlion)

ballister also teaches ambrosius how to eat with his hands there, and in turn, ambrosius teaches him how to use chopsticks

they continue to eat together in that room all the way until the knighting ceremony, and it was one of their favorite routines

post-canon, the trio had rice for a meal, and nimona saw ballister eat with his hands (probably his flesh hand- even though, culturally, you're supposed to eat with your right hand, I think a prosthetic is a pretty damn good exception)

she stared in shock for a few moments, then slowly dropped her fork and attempted to mimic his motions

ballister noticed and was flattered beyond measure, and was more than happy to help her out

rice is the ONE AND ONLY thing ballister can (and is allowed to) cook, so he makes it whenever he can

and when he makes it, everyone eats it however the hell they want, society standards be damned

I have more south asian related headcanons, but this is long enough already, so I'll do a part two later! :D

-Storm

#nimona 2023 #nimona #ballister boldheart #riz ahmed #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #south asian #desi #don't you just love projecting your culture on cartoon men #cause I do

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ezelium · 28 days

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IF THIS IS WHAT YOU CALL DEPENDENCE : dazai o.

⟡ CONTENT : your lover who abandoned you in the PM and avoided you for 4 years finally finds you in a familiar back alley.

⟡ WARNINGS : gn!reader , dazai is kinda head over heels , unhealthy (past) relationship , unhappy ending , one sided pining , slight spoilers , open ending , slight ooc , implied major character death/major injury , i didn't keep track of the wc but it's probably around 2k , lowercase writing , probably light angst , not proofread , mentions of alcohol .

⟡ GENRE : gen → oneshot (?)

⟡ A/N : man i used to write good like 2 years ago what happened to that.. i think i need to practice more (。＿。")

also this is SHORT but who cares

you weren't exactly sure what you would do after you lover's disappearance, but it was too late when you were notified of the news anyway. dazai osamu had disappeared on a random day, with no warnings nor any goodbyes.

4 years later, you've been greatly promoted to one of the executives of the port mafia. all your hard work and efforts were paid off. it really wasn't the worst, but you really couldn't excuse yourself for the most crimes you've committed. why were you in the mafia? why did you abandon your past life at the ripe ages of teen years? you weren't exactly sure. the underground wasn't a horrible place for you though.

you've loved many people, you've loved many individuals. 'why was he any different?' you might ask, he wasn't. at the end of the day, he's just another person, another man, an "ordinary" man. the difference was that he held a place in your heart.

to be exact, used to. after his bestfriends death, you never found him again.

he left.

it felt somewhat empty. maybe it was your heart missing the way he held you so tightly, or perhaps it was you missing the way his lips brushed against yours. in the end, your heart still longed for him. or did it? or did it want to fill in the gap? whatever it was, it sure did feel miserable.

chuuya was there for you, yeah, but it's not like you liked him romantically. he's your friend, not lover. you couldn't just get with anyone like that now, could you? you were getting carried away with your thoughts as usual. how lovely, when you had pillars of paperwork to work on. he never left your mind. you didn't like the fact that this topic always made you drift away.

your hand lazily grabbed the pen sitting near your said hand, and grabbed another papersheet to sign, fullfill, or whatever. what was this anyway? 7 sent e-mails were still waiting to be replied from your subordinates, it was almost the deadline. you had a long night in for you. the mafia wasn't exactly all about killing or so, it also came with other "irrelevant" work. luckily for you, you could easily get them done quickly. if only your subordinates weren't lazy jackasses that couldn't get something done ...

needless to say, you were tired. exhausted, even. after hours of non-stop work, you got out of the building to visit a certain street. a street you and he used to go to. that was a long time ago of course. but nevertheless, it still brought you comfort. when it rained it didn't bother you, when it was windy, gloomy or foggy, it never bothered you. the missing piece in your heart couldn't be returned, but at least this odd and dark alleyway could make up for it.

dazai too, was missed you from time to time. you were one of the only people that brought some light to his miserable and pathetic life, it felt stupid to just disappear. he was happier in the armed detective agency than he was in the mafia, but he felt like he didn't belong. was he a burden to them? he didn't want to burden them.

they were better off without him, right? but he couldn't go back to the mafia, right? he should keep his promise, right? he will tire them out someday, right?

this is how he thought most of the time. he felt like an idiot to to leave a person that "actually" wanted him. his self confidence was at low levels today for sure. there was no use crying over spilt milk, either. was he to follow his guts or was he to follow his head? or even his heart, in that matter?

these thoughts repeated over and over and over. it was repetitive, and boring. he was sick of it, he felt sick to the stomach when he thought of you. not because of you being yourself, but because of his past self. he swears he changed though.

the way he used to use you for his gain and his own selfishness back in the old days, made him feel disgusted. how did he not see your worth? you made him eat his heart out. he loved you. he loved you and he didn't recognize your worth. was it too late to fix his mistakes? slacking off today wasn't a great idea perhaps, considering he had to face his thoughts like this.

the couch felt soft and warm as he laid on it with fewer bottles of heavy alcohol sitting next to him. it was nearing midnight, stars were shining the best they can. nights of yokohama were always unsettling and comforting in the best way possible, or maybe that was just the weight he had on his shoulders for years now.

finding a purpose wasn't easy. nothing was. this world was too complicated for a logical man like him. he didn't see the meaning, it was absurd, annoying, and whatever else. he tried to fit in.

no matter how bad he felt, you always found a way to make him feel better. oh, how he missed your soft hugs, your sweet words, your gentleness with him. you were patient and willing to go through all this with him, but that was not the case. he felt as if he was in a daze, and alcohol wasn't helping. if anything, it made him think of more absurd things, which I'm sure nobody would want.

again, he left because of oda's wishes, yes. he promised to change, to protect, to be better. however that meant leaving you in the dark. he didn't think twice before leaving, and remorse was all he felt. he could've thought about it a few times, but maybe in another universe you two are together..

now no need to go over the same thoughts and points over and over again, it makes the story boring doesn't it? — he wasn't sleepy at all, and he definitely wasn't in the mood to go out from some alcohol at all. whatever he could do, maybe he could calm his longing heart by going to that old passage.

you on the other hand, were already there while he was thinking of coming. what a coincidence; though you were unaware of that. your hair fluttered as the wind slowly picked up; black, dusty walls looking as grim as ever. nothing really had changed over the years. the same boxes, the same webs, the same rats never disappeared, it was a home to them as much as it was a home to you. that was lovely, at least it wasn't a bleak situation. you weren't alone.

your feet dangled slowly as you sat on one of the said boxes, not caring of the dust that'll catch on your clothes. who cared anyway at this point? you just needed comfort for once. at least this street was calmer than your workplace, nobody was here to disturb you.

or so you thought. after 20 minutes after you arrived, some light footsteps were alerting the presence of an "intruder". you were quick to catch on and put on your guard; silently getting behind those old pieces of wood. yes the mean the boxes.

and dazai, was quick to catch on that somebody was there. his footsteps faltered for the minute being, sensing and looking around before continuing walking. after he turned the corner, it was a surprise to see him all up in your face.

He. he was here. the shock on both of your faces were evident and you both saw each other's expression, there's no purpose to play around after that. he stopped in short surprise as he saw you, muscles tensing as he acknowledged that it was actually you.

"Ahh, ah. My sweet [name] is here?" he snickered, his words were nothing but meaningless. his voice was as sweet as sugar, but the depth was as hollow as ever. he didn't mean anything to you. no, he didn't, nope. no way. you can't forgive him after what he's done, can you.

he slowly moved his hand upwards; the slow movement indicating nothing but his hesitancy. but you weren't going to let him do whatever you want. just with the blink of an eye — a cold metal piece was against his chest. upon realisation, he took a very, very short step back. he still wasn't sure what to make of the situation at hand.

you got out of the shadow of those boxes, making a small wood bar fall in progress. it hit the ground, making a noise that's louder than it should make. he brought his hands to the silver plate of your gun, his smile not faltering as he looked at you. he was tipsy, but he was still aware of his surroundings. and he was going to work this out.

his eyes weren't giving away anything, no, far from that. he seemed.. happy. he opened his mouth to say something; but you swiftly cut him off. you had better stuff to do than get distracted by his sweet nothings. perhaps he really didn't change. perhaps it's futile.

"i won't hesitate to pull," you warned, pushing the muzzle harder into his chest and steadying your finger around the trigger. your expression was blank, your teeth were clenched. you were angry at him, and had every right to be angry at him. his teasing smile faded the moment your finger tightened around the trigger. a hint of alarm and wariness took over, briefly clouding his bravado.

he wasn't sure if he was facing the same old you. the same old you would be kinder, more softer to him, your older self would be more tolerant to him. he was expecting the same treatment out of his selfishness. yet he wasn't sure what to do after you didn't, so he asked: "what happened to you?"

"what happened to me?" you quickly repeated, not sure what to make of his question either. the question made no sense overall, you just had grown is all. how could he not expect a change after 4 years? at the end it's finally done. actually maybe even he was late; maybe you two just showered each other in lies.

dazai paused for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought of what to say. there was no smile, no nothing. "you weren't like this. this isn't the [name] I know." he said, features changing into dour ones. he thought this would be a more calm talk, a more civil one. yet there he was, with the muzzle of a gun against his heart, by his past lover.

you didn't even want to associate with him anymore, it felt oddly pointless. as if you wanred to give up on him. "i'd call that an achievement. yet you're the same osamu I know." ouch. that hit a little too close to home, didn't it? he was trying to change, but he wasn't sure himself if he was putting any effort. and that sentence you just uttered out of your mouth, reminded him of that.

he knew you wanted to give up on him. he knew it. he knew it. he knew it. despite this, he still loved you. he did. he knew. he did. he knew he did. he still screwed this up.

he felt miserable like this, he knew he fucked up. he knew he messed up real bad this time, and you weren't showing him mercy anymore. he wasn't deserving of another chance anyway. "just hear me out- please." he pleaded, his voice softening. he wanted to be close to you, a gentle expression was all he could make. his hand, ignoring the gun, tried touching yours for the briefest of moments.

you clenched your teeth even harder, just how desperate could he get? "there's no point, dazai." he hated it when you called him by his lastname. it felt as if you were getting further away from him. he didn't want that— the opposite. this really turned out bad. this isn't what he expected, at all. on situations like this, it usually would go like how he wanted it. but this wasn't it. nope, no way. that took a wrong turn, just because he was surprised for a minute.

now that just confirmed how hopeless of a situation it was. he just wanted you back, but you weren't even letting him explain. no, he didn't seem panicked. that's far from the truth. his words were straightforward as they can be, as if they were scripted to come out that way. his hand was on yours now, "you aren't even letting me make amends." his thumb brushed your hand, the bandages adding in extra texture. he wasn't in the mood to deal with this today.

you huffed in response. you were fed up. you were doubting if you actually loved him. you may need to think this over again, now was the time that you're sure you didn't miss him, but rather- your heart just wanted the missing piece inside of it filled. you were sure you weren't blind to love a bastard like this. "you could've at least said goodbye. i was miserable, and yet i still loved you. i knew you were using me. i honestly regret that i ever loved you. why would i let you make amends?"

as much as emotions clouded his judgement, your anger was clouding your own judgement too. the last thing you wanted for him to do now was to try and win you over again, which he was most likely about to do if you didn't intervene. but he was idiotic and selfish right? you couldn't trust him, you couldn't trust such a manipulator who used you in the past.

"[name], my love, it's—"

"don't call me that." you retorted, voice dropping. those words contained nothing but disdain at him.

he paused, "don't tell me things that you don't mean."

"i do mean them more than you think."

"oh really now?"

agghnttmh thank you for reading everyone! <3 i wrote this in 2 days, something i thought was impossible really.. im sorry if its shorter towards the end, i started with so much motivation but finished with so less. therefore, it's kinda short and messy :(

please do tell me if i should write a second part for this, im actually invested but this is all that was supposed to be in this part!

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