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lani-heart · 24 hours

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|| series masterlist || CHAPTER ONE -> PREVIEW ||

parings -> riki nishimura x reader genre -> non-idol au, school au, hyrbid au warnings -> n/a word count -> 1.1k

abstract -> he's perfect how he is... but can maybe change for her.

y/n’s perspective

“Niki, we always do this” I whined as he locked himself in the bathroom. I needed to get him ready for tonight’s party. If I didn’t have to go I wouldn’t… but with my family pushing me into choosing a major in business, they're making me befriend other kids from wealthy families.

“Please… I don’t want to go alone” I begged but he didn’t respond. It was running late and the driver would be here soon… so I might have to go alone today.

I gave up trying to convince him and did the final touches. Grabbing a jacket, fixing my makeup, and grabbing everything I needed.

When I left my room, I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re gonna go with me?” I asked and he nodded. “I can’t let you go on your own” he muttered and I chuckled. “Besides, look at how forgetful you are,” he said as he pulled my hair roller off my bangs.

“Oh,” I said genuinely forgetting as he laughed at me.

“Do you–” “Yes, I have my tail ring on. I’m ready, now let's go before your dad starts calling”

Riki Nishimura was a stray hybrid I met when I was a kid. We were on a vacation trip to Japan when I saw him. I offered him some food I had on me and he took it from me to eat it like he was starved.

My parents were already wanting to get me a hybrid so I begged them to keep him. In which they reluctantly agreed. However, when we found out he wasn’t a normal black cat hybrid they agreed.

He was a panther hybrid, and so has been with me for years. We grew up together… However, my parents never liked how rowdy he was. Even now they tell me to get another hybrid, one that could join me in dinners, and parties, and one who is overall more well-behaved.

I wasn’t gonna let them replace him. He was my best friend, my number one confidant. Besides… who needs a fancy and well-behaved hybrid? Niki was way more fun!

niki’s perspective

It was the same old party they threw with the same kids as their rich human parents and new collectibles. They liked to collect new hybrids where they’d show them off and then throw them away… but not y/n.

Without her, I probably would still be on the street mistaken for an overgrown cat hybrid. It doesn’t mean I liked being gawked at and set a price on what they’d trade her for me. Of course, she’d never let them... I’ve seen how annoyed and angry she gets and it made me happy she cared so much.

I cared for her too… She was clumsy and an idiot so she needed someone to take care of her. So I'm here… at a stupid party filled with spoiled rich kids.

Not to say she isn't spoiled… she is. However, I never questioned that she loved me. She always makes that clear with everything she does for me.

“Oh! You’re y/n right?” I heard and I saw a girl behind us with what smelled like a bird hybrid. “Mmhm… have we met before?” she asked why I didn’t think so… I would’ve recognized her and her hybrid. “My name–” I didn’t care what she had to say… I just didn’t like how her hybrid kept on staring at me with those eyes of his. What was his problem?

I was cut off from my thoughts when suddenly the topic of discussion became me…

“He’s really pretty and exotic too! I just haven’t heard good things about him, you know?” she said and I had to refrain from growling at her. Who was she to talk right in front of my face about me? And to y/n?

“Jay here is well-behaved! He’s from America you know–” Is that supposed to make him impressive? Congrats bird you’re a pet! “–it's just a shame you know. I wanted a bunny or maybe a cat hybrid” she pouted and I could see his disappointed expression.

“Oh, Niki is really sweet but he’s solitary–” “You should invest in a social hybrid you know?” she cut her off to say. Rude… why would she need another hybrid when she has me?

“I like the way he is, he’s been with me since we were kids so there's no way I could ever replace him like that,” she said and I felt proud.

“I heard about how much you care for him. I guess rumors were true” she said and I knew she was amongst those who talked about why she couldn’t get a nicer and social hybrid who smiles and dotes on her. I do dote on her… and I’m only nice to her. Everyone else was pushing it.

“What is he if I can ask?” she said and y/n only sighed while looking up at me. “He’s a puma hybrid from Japan,” she answered. “Woah! I heard puma hybrids were rare! I thought he was just a cat… makes sense then for how tall he is.” she said as she got closer to me.

“Oh please don’t do that. You’ll make him uncomfortable.” y/n said as I went behind her.

“You should take him to the training you know. It's for the hybrids who need manners… they are opening classes in your university for hybrids'' she said… she stalked y/n to know what university she was in? She needs a life.

“Oh… I know of them. I think he is just fine the way he is” y/n said and she bowed. “If you’ll excuse us,” she said and we walked away from the pair. “She was a bitch” y/n muttered and I laughed. “Calm down, you have an act to uphold,” I said and she sighed. “y/n?” I said and she looked at me with her eyes filled with determination to answer to give me anything I asked for. “Why didn’t you tell me your uni is having hybrid classes?” I asked and she sighed.

“They're mainly about etiquette. She said how to take care of your owner… how to behave in a social setting, etc” and I nodded.

“I want to go,” I said and her eyes widened. “But you're perfect–” “No, I’m not… I caused you a lot of trouble. I heard your dad get mad again this morning. He didn’t want me here because of last time” I said and she shook her head.

“Yah! Don’t do that!” she scolded and I smiled softly.

“Please? You said you would give me anything I asked for. I want to be a better hybrid for you”

taglist -> @ilovecheese09 @gudkc

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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caffeiiine · 3 months

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childhood best friends to lovers for the fic trope ask?

if i were to make a multi-fic that’d definitely be one of my first thoughts to make out of it

as for who, atsulucy probably

#i know she grew up in america and he grew up in japan #they’re going to the same orphanage for plot convenience #they were both horrible orphanages so it’s fine #soda ask and answers!

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kimchikrust · 3 months

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She's Breaking News

Lately, you’ve been on the news, and while Katsuki wouldn’t typically care, your recent popularity affects him more than he’d like.

You’re rising in the ranks quickly for a newly licensed Pro. Up-and-coming rookie, and a woman on top of that, so the whole region knows about your masked persona. Unfortunately for Katsuki, you’re fast approaching the top ten and coming after his spot in the top five.

He can tell you're formidable from the footage of your endeavors released to the public, and if this were high school, he’d be demanding to spar and test your skills.

But you didn’t attend UA; you’re a transfer from North America. You held no torch for the citizens of Japan. Your position was merely a job that took you away from home. So why was Katsuki fuming over the latest front page in the paper?

FOREIGN HERO, HERE TO STAY

Katsuki had yet to work with you on any assignments. His job as a more seasoned residential hero was to remain on-call at all times and begin developing relationships with others – networking for a longstanding career as a Pro. He didn’t plan to ever cross paths with you.

“Why are you such a hater, Kat?” Eijirou sighs heavily one day. They were sharing an elevator, and Eijirou brought you up. Katsuki rolls his eyes in a display of exhaust.

“She’s a shiny new hero for the fanatics to fixate on,” the explosion hero grumbles, unable to mask his bitterness. “She ain’t that impressive.”

“We’ve watched the same footage,” Eijirou points out with a smile dancing over his lips. “She’s efficient and packs a punch. I think I read that she’s on the shorter side too; you can’t tell from the pictures-”

“I couldn’t care less, Eiji,” Katsuki murmurs, rubbing his palm over his face and breathing in relief at the elevator’s final chime.

They called you the Sentinel in the States, and your moniker followed you to Japan. The Sentinel, Katsuki harrumphed. Did he consider your hero name ironic – a shorter-than-average American woman considered a soldier to Japan?

“What a joke,” Katsuki said as he watched your recent battle play on the screen over the bar.

“Sorry, Kachan,” Izuku panted, colliding into the counter in a rush. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Yeah, but don’t sweat it,” he grumbled, sipping his fruity horoyoi can. “You come from work?”

“How’d you know?” Izuku bashfully scratched the back of his head as he slid onto his reserved stool.

“You’re still wearing your boots.” Katsuki glanced down at the massive accessories on his friend’s feet with an amused glint. Izuku’s face grew bright red at the realization.

“Oh, wow. That’s embarrassing.”

Katsuki pondered, waiting for Izuku to settle into his seat and order his drink. “How was she?”

“How was who? Ochako?” Ochako was Izuku’s partner since their days at UA. Izuku’s favorite pastime was fanboying over his Pro-Hero girlfriend, but sometimes his efforts were overzealous.

“No, you crazy bastard,” Katsuki chastised. “Sentinel. You fought with her today, didn’t you?”

Izuku looks at him curiously. “I didn’t really fight with her. They called us both in, but she handled the situation alone. Handled it well, if I’m being honest.”

Katsuki hummed in displeasure, and his childhood friend saw it for what it was.

“I heard from Kirishima that you’re holding a grudge against her,” Izuku mentioned innocently. “From what I can tell, she doesn’t care too much about the rankings.”

“Doesn’t matter. The woman is still rising in the ranks like she could give a fuck, and that’s a threat to my number one spot.”

“Not yours yet, Kachan,” Izuku muses, graciously accepting his drink from the bartender. “There are other contenders you should be more worried about.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki couldn’t bite back his smile as he cut a glance at his old friend’s chipper expression. “You threatening me, shrimp?”

“I certainly won’t make it easy for you.” Izuku shrugs, taking a sip from his drink.

They called you the Dimension Hero after you released information on your quirk to the public. It was in an interview that the Hero Commission set up, linking your appearance to their credit. A nameless interviewer innocently asked the details of her power, only to discover another trait Japan could love about you.

From the footage of your battles throughout your career, Katsuki made connections to your quirk and fighting style. You fought with constructs for the most part. When you activate your quirk in battle, your body glows a soft purple – an excess of power drawn from ‘another dimension’ (a tidbit that sparked a lively audience amidst the public).

“Like I’m stupid enough to believe that,” Katsuki mumbled after watching the interview.

You revealed that drawing power from this pocket dimension gave you an upper hand against opponents. With the ability to access a seemingly unlimited energy source, Katsuki couldn’t fathom the drawbacks of your quirk.

It sounded like bullshit.

The first time he meets you, it’s after witnessing your quirk in action. Katsuki, in his hero suit, spectates from the rooftops while you’re pursuing a villain.

While you’ve had your Pro-Hero license for a while, you were still new to the landscape in Japan. That much is evident to Katsuki when you lose the villain in the unfamiliar industrial terrain. He could’ve left the job to you, let you lose the suspect, and taken a hit to your popularity. But it didn’t feel right to leave you scrambling. Katsuki’s job as a Pro was to help people, and he took his career seriously.

It’s easy for a resident hero to navigate the streets, quickly taking a shortcut to cut off the villain. The suspect unfortunately doesn’t realize he’s trapped – too fearful of the woman on his tail – and Katsuki takes the opportunity to fire at his feet, sending the man flying into the side of the building.

Katsuki waits as the man takes one look at him, standing tall and menacing in his costume, and rightfully surrenders.

“Your first smart decision today,” he says with an amused huff, preparing himself for meeting you.

“You got him,” you pant in pleasant surprise when you arrive at the scene. You look at him in exhausted awe and breathe, “Awesome.”

Awesome? He rolls his eyes as your resemblance to his moronic friends is uncanny.

You eye the culprit sitting on the ground and look around. “Where’s the other one?” Katsuki frowns. Wasn’t there only one?

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, and his instincts roared in the back of his conscience. There’s a figure taking advantage of his lax state and attacking from behind, and there’s no time for Katsuki to dodge, so he prepares himself to take a hit.

Before it landed, a hole ripped through the air before Katsuki and the accomplice fell in with a panicked cry. By the wall, a second hole reveals the suspect flying out against the concrete, successfully incapacitating him.

“Thanks for the assist,” you say sincerely to the Explosion Hero.

“No problem,” Katsuki murmurs, casting his eyes down.

When you don’t say anything in response, he decides to introduce himself – as a coworker.

“I’m Dynamight.” He watches your eyes shine your signature purple and conjure cuffs on the beaten-down criminals.

“I know,” you laugh gently, scratching the back of your arm as you stretch it over your chest. “Your friends admire you a lot.”

Exchanging words with you for the first time didn’t turn out as Katsuki imagined. His ears glowing bright red, his palms sweating, and he’s a flustered wreck.

“Those idiots,” he mumbles with a growl, halfheartedly cussing out Eijirou’s big mouth. “Don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“So, you’re not the hater?” You ask him dryly, and Katsuki can understand your sarcasm. “You can tell your friends I’m grateful the high and mighty helped me today.”

“Tell them yourself,” Katsuki retorts, crossing his gauntlets over his chest. “I suspect they like you more than me at this point.”

You only smile in jest. “Can you blame them?”

Your fluency in Japanese is laughable, but the enthusiasm is there, Katsuki notes. He watches as you pull out your phone and tap away at it while two suspects are in custody before you.

“Shouldn’t you be taking these guys in?” he remarks, nodding in their direction.

“I’m looking up the nearest station. I don’t have the best sense of direction in newer areas.”

“Radio dispatch,” he says, because it’s protocol, and you should know that by now.

You sigh in frustration as if you’ve explained yourself several times before.

“I haven’t received a radio yet. I think it involves some hazing from people in the Commission,” you say passively, pocketing your phone once you’ve pinned the location. “But it doesn’t matter because I don’t need it.”

“What ar-”

You don’t wait for Katsuki to understand before clasping your hands together in a prayer. In the next second, a vast hole rips open again, and Katsuki can’t make out what’s on the other side – like a purple-tinted mirror that reflects what’s in front of it. You don’t waste time to grab the men and shove them through with aggression.

“I can handle filing the report, and I won’t forget to mention Lord Explosion God Dynamight made his appearance,” you tell him, stepping towards the portal. There’s a playful smile on your lips, and Katsuki can’t know if you’re joking. “I’ll see you around.”

You step through, and you and the portal disappear like you were never there with him.

He still doesn’t know much about you, and if anything, that interaction only confused him more. But he knows you must have looked him up to call him his official hero title.

He finishes the rest of his patrol without issue, wondering what he’d find the news saying next.

#Katsuki is a nerd #he's so adorable #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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midniiights-garden · 5 months

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Modern!Mizu General Headcanons!!

I have so many many ideas for Modern!Mizu omg you don't understand (I wish she was real...)

Ok, so first of all I wanna start out with some HCs about her past and her mother.

I think she probably grew up in rural Japan, her relationship with her mother basically still the same as in the show.

Due to not being exposed to very many foreigners her relationship with her peers was strained because of her blue eyes (ofc. hate discrimination smHHH)

Anyways, although Mizu doesn't have to hide her gender, and I personally headcanon that Modern!Mizu wouldn't hide it, she still has some internalized mysogyny.

This is namely due to the huge issue with sexisim in Japan, sexual harassment and sexualisation of women and so on. Mizu grew up wishing she was a boy because she didn't want to feel like a piece of meat to be eyed up and down and sold.

I HC that she meets the Swordfather when she attempted to run away from home. Probably due to another bullying incident or something.

In my head she actually moves to America or Europe to study something related to craftsmanship or to become a professional martial artist. It makes the most sense in my head at least.

She got into Uni on a scholarship lol. I mean, translated into a modern setting I do think her skill would be enough to warrant a large scholarship.

University was a rough time in the beginning for her due to the many changes that come with moving to a new country, as myself and most other third country kids will know.

Mizu had to juggle learning English, beating racist asshole and school all at the same time.

Due to her reluctance to socialize she also struggles to learn English in the verbal sense. She learned how to read and write in English much faster than to speak it because she had no one practice with. That, and she refused to talk to anyone.

As for how she met Mikio...

Modern!Mizu probably met him because he was a teacher at her Uni.

Long story short when he finds out how she was concieved and how strong he is, well, big strong man gets emasculated and throws a fit and Mizu leaves him (as she should)

And then she realises she's gay lol

I think it'd happen in a pretty similar fashion as to Canon!Mizu but you can look at my headcanons for those if you need them.

I think the main differences between Modern!Mizu and Canon!Mizu would primarily be in how she deals with her rage. Of course, Modern!Mizu isn't allowed the luxury of just stabbing people to get revenge so I believe she may resort to a lot of physical exertion in the gym or just a lot of lashing out towards people in general.

(A/N: Yayayayayya second post for the day!!! As usual, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to ask!! Happy holidays everyone!!! <3)

#mizu blue eye samurai #i love women #blue eye samurai #wlw #i love fictional characters #mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu #mizu come home the kids miss you #x reader #headcannons #x you fluff #fluff

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very-grownup · 1 year

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Ace Attorney game parallels (no, not that one, or that one, or that one ...)

One of the interesting things about the Great Ace Attorney in the evolution of Shu Takumi's Ace Attorney games is the maturation of "Weird Girl Assistant".

Our original trilogy Weird Girl Assistant is Maya Fey (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste why can't I preorder that Nendroid yet motherfuckers?), who is all heart and ... not so much knowledge, but a conduit to Mia’s knowledge. She doesn’t personally possess any legal knowledge, but she’s integral for Phoenix in accessing knowledge that would otherwise be denied to him due to Mia’s untimely death. She’s fully Weird in her Assisting.

Apollo Justice has Trucy Wright (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste), who is a lot of heart but not all heart. She has personal knowledge to impart to Apollo, regarding the perceive ability and his bracelet. It’s integral assisting to how the trials in that game will reach pivotal points, which makes it genuine Assisting, even if outside of that Trucy is plenty Weird. I would argue this is distinctive from the Phoneix-Magatama matter in the original trilogy (it’s easy to forget that Nick doesn’t even have the magatama in the first game) because Trucy is, essentially, teaching Apollo to do something he technically can already do, whereas the magatama is something Phoenix is given by an outside source still connected to the mentor (Pearl). Narratively and thematically they’re different, even if mechanically they function similarly.

Years later, the Great Ace Attorney gave us Susato Mikotoba (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste). Susato is an /actual trained legal assistant/ to the point she can masquerade as a lawyer in the second game's tutorial. She could BE the lawyer as easily at Ryunosuke, save for her sex in the historical setting of the game. She Assists like no one’s business and her Weird is no weirder than Ryunosuke himself, two young people who grew up in a country with recently opened borders, in a foreign country for the first time.

A reflection of a maturation in Takumi's depiction of female characters, a general wider consciousness of feminism in popular culture in Japan (something I am in no way qualified to discuss), a third possibility? I don’t think it’s fair or accurate to say that the evolution of the Weird Girl Assistant into an actual competent assistant is a sign of the games ‘maturing’. For all their goofiness there has always been a serious, darker tone in the games compared to the adventure game standbys of North America. It’s built into the series from the choice to have Phoenix’ second case involve the solving of his boss and mentor’s murder.

There may also be something in the connection between the tutorial mentor and the Weird Girl Assistant, holding the balance of knowledge between them like the centre of a seesaw.

The connection with Mia and Maya is obvious: they’re sisters and perfectly mirror each other in their relation to what they bring to Phoenix. Mia on a pedestal of legal knowledge, forever older and wiser than Nick, as her death fixes her on that pedestal. Mia and Nick never get to be colleagues, equals. On the other end, enthusiastic but underage Maya, someone Nick will always be older than and always be wiser than in the legal sense. We don’t know how an older Maya might have fit with the disbarred Phoenix Takumi left the series with; maybe it didn’t matter and outside the confines of the Lawyer Protagonist and Weird Girl Assistant, Maya could stop being a mirror for her sister.

Similarly, Kazuma and Susato are sibling-like. Kazuma, like Mia, is the tutorial mentor, but he’s only a mentor to Ryunosuke because he’s a law student and Ryunosuke isn’t. He doesn’t have that much more knowledge than Ryunosuke and I think it correlates that he doesn’t have that much more knowledge than Susato, the girl who expected to be his legal assistant. There is something like equality here between the Mentor and the Weird Girl Assistant when neither precisely fits their role mold. Kazuma is, I think, as weird as Susato is knowledgeable.

BUT WHAT ABOUT --

Bitch, you know I've always got Apollo Justice opinions to drop.

In Apollo Justice, Kristoph is a fully knowledgeable mentor to Apollo. He is an actual lawyer, he is Apollo’s senior, and he is Apollo’s employer. In these ways, he is on all fours with Mia.

Aside from being the murderer.

There is, frankly, an entire other thing to get into with the tutorial mentors and how their stories intersect with death and a turning point in their respective protagonist’s life and career but this is about Weird Girl Assistants.

So.

What is Kristoph Gavin’s Weird Girl Assistant connection?

THE INCIDENT.

Seven years earlier, in Zak Gramarye’s trial, Trucy is used by Kristoph to deliver fake evidence to Phoenix, leading to Nick’s disbarment.

In Apollo’s tutorial trial, for the murderer of Shadi Smith/Zak Gramarye, Trucy is used by Phoenix to deliver fake evidence to Apollo, leading to Kristoph's arrest (and possibly his disbarment but who knows in the world of Ace Attorney and Japanifornia).

I have nothing but love for Trucy, but she's the shifty, deceitful Weird Girl Assistant to follow a shifty, deceitful Tutorial Mentor in a game about disillusionment and broken trust, following a trilogy about believing in yourself, your instincts, and redemption, and preceding two games riding a balance between hope and despair, with part of that balance being a more equal partnership between the Attorney and his Weird Girl Assistant.

#ace attorney #apollo justice #the great ace attorney #parallels #narrative patterns #just talking about ace attorney again #i have an advanced honours degree in saying how one thing is like another thing

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soapiemomorphine · 1 year

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GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS

bilingual tmnt 2012 and rotmnt head cannons!!

Ok so I’m Mexican American (ew america) and my mom was born and raised in Mexico

Yet I’m not bilingual

I’m taking Spanish class in my high school

This is what I think the rottmnt kids are going thru

My mother had to assimilate to get a job here. And I think that’s what rottmnt Yoshi had to do too.

But my mother refused to make my first language spanish, she wanted my life here to be easier.

I think Yoshi didn't want to be reminded of what he left behind.

He used his ninjitsu skills to become a movie star and actively runs away from his heritage from the show.

Not that he doesn't want to be Japanese, or that he wants to forget that part of himself, but he wanted to branch out and be Lou Jitsu, and japanese tradition and culture are not as important to him and his identity as 2012 Splinter.

He ran away from tradition.

I firmly hc that the rottmnt turtle know japanese in the way I know spanish; nothing beside the scoldings and the frustrated mumbling of their father.

"Kuso!" Their dad will yell as he stubs his foot.

"Konoyarou," He mumbles as he talks about a person who screamed at the sight of him.

"No Blue! Aho! Don't eat random stuff off the floor!"

I hc that rottmnt Splinter has a potty mouth, and because of the all his kids know is how to curse and scold someone in japanese, which you know, they use to insult each other.

The rottmnt kids have to go out of their way to learn japanese, it's an underlying language in their home and a part of their heritage, but they live like third generation immigrants.

As opposed to the 2012 turtles, whose first language was most definitely japanese.

2012 Splinter grew up, fell in love, and lived in Japan for the majority of his life. He loved his heritage and tradition, the only reason he moved to New York was because he was literally running for his life. It was chance that he ended up in America.

In Japanese schools, much like many other schools in different countries, have a class that teaches english bc ya know, it's the national language bc british and american ppl be pissbabies. So Splinter learned english, and like the good student he was, was good at it.

That why for he lived there he could live comfortably and could talk to others (like the pet shop owner), bc he already knew english.

Then he got mutated and four sons lmao.

So he raised them the way he was raised; traditionally japanese. The language, the tradition, the customs, everything.

So all the tmnt teetles are fluent in japanese, and a part of the reason they were not allowed topside before they were 15 is because they weren't done learning english yet.

They often forget words in english, and in the heat of the moment, it's the first language that comes up.

Raph and Mikey's english slang comes from the comics they've read and the movies they watched.

Leo's english mimics basic english textbooks and Captain Ryan's

Donnie sounds like an encyclopedia bc that's where he gets most of his vocabulary from.

TLDR: The rottmnt turtles only know insults and curse words in japanese while the 2012 turtles are bilingual; fluent in both Japanese and English because of the way their respective Splinters raised them.

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class-1b-bull · 9 months

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What do you hc for class 1b's backstories? Also this blog is literally giving me a supply of 1b crumbs and I thank thee 🛐

Thank you so much <3

Not proofread we die like men

Awase - he grew up in a small town that was 90% men. Probably fisherman. Also I think he has an older sister that he calls a bitch all the time but he would die for her. Pretty basic past.

Sen - ya know those basic ass dudes that get 20+ love letters a day. That was him in middle school. Other than that he had a normal past with a normal family (including his 'annoying' little siblings that think hes the coolest person alive <3)

Kamakiri - hes either an only child or the oldest of like 12 kids. He always had to take care if his younger siblings since his parents stayed at work all the time

Kuroiro - he was the only goth in a small ass town. Everywhere he walked old ass farmers would judge him for the way he dressed but now that hes at UA with a few other goths he doesn't care about being judged as much (bro is forklift certified btw)

Kendo - she had a very supportive family and was always praised for her good deeds which made her want to become a hero. Nothing to exciting shes pretty much always been surrounded by love and affection.

Kodai - other than maybe being teased when she was younger for being so quiet shes always been the same as she is now. Normal family and home life lol. I do like to think he family is loud asf tho (not like always yelling but they just have booming voices yk)

Komori - she was probably an only child. And while she was more popular in school than some she preferred to stay home with her parents or walk around in the woods to find mushrooms

Shiozaki - she definitely went to some christian private school her whole life and was probably really sheltered so thats why I think she would be a little akward when meeting new people

Shishida - lives with his rich ass grandma. Idk what happened to his parents but they aint in the picture so he was raised by this sweet little old lady instead and it shows

Shoda - idk why but I think he was raised by one of those hella social single moms. She always went out to partys and had friends over. Having so many new people around him all the time scared little him ngl

Pony - we all know most of her life she lived in America (i think California) so she spent a lot of her life by the ocean. She probably knows how to surf lol. Other than that tho she has a little brother and her parents that lived with her til she transferred to japan

Tsubaraba - his past is 50/50. Either he had a normal life with loving parents in a stable home up til UA or it was fucked up. No in-between (Ya know how class clowns almost always have fucked home lives.)

Tetsutetsu - bros biggest problem in life is having a hot mom. Hes an only child raised by a single mom and though most of his life is normal he cant have friends over because they just talk about how strong his mom is lmao. (She works out often and is the reason tetsu wants to be so strong)

Tokage - if she does have siblings its 2 older brothers and she was raised by her dad after her mom died when she was too young to even remember her. She doesn't mind not having a mom because her 2 older brothers gladly fill in that role for her lmao

Manga - yk how the mha universe is biased against people with mutation quirks. I think mangas birth parents put him up for adoption after seeing his quirk but in less than a year he was adopted by two artists after they saw his love for art <3 he had a normal and happy life since (this is also why his main goal is to make all the kids in the world smile)

Honenuki - Honestly he had an alcoholic single mom or something. She would always come home tired and with bad headaches so thats why hes so good at most house tasks (cooking, massages, cleaning, ect.) Kinda neglected so he matured earlier than he shouldve but he still loves his mom

Bondo - he was adopted by lesbian moms and they raised him to be the gentlemanly giant he is today. He loves his parents so much for how they raised him. His past is pretty normal and the only reason he was put up for adoption was because his birth mom not being financially stable enough or something of the sort. (She does visit him every so often tho)

Monoma - we already know he was bullied for his quirk most of his life but did you know he also lets you save 15% or more on car insurance? (Idk what to put here we already know his past rip)

Reiko - her parents divorced when she was around 8 and her dad won custody of her and she honestly couldn't be happier. Her dad looks cool asf but hes nice as hell to anyone and everyone. He also loves spooky stories and is the main reason reiko loves spooky things. Pretty normal past other than having a cool ass dad.

Rin - he transferred to Japan for two reasons. To go to UA and to get away from his parents. Dont get me wrong his parents were good people but they were kinda disappointed when rin said he wanted to be a hero. That disapproval only made him more determined to prove them wrong tho.

(More on koseis in tomorrows post)

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skulljackxiii · 16 days

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GrojBand Comeback Tour - Kin Kujira

Support me over at Patreon: www.patreon.com/skulljackxiii

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Note: When looking back at the show and remembering what Kin was like, he didn't feel that much different than his brother, but I guess that was part of why they got along so well. Anyways I thought that in this version, he plays more in his role as a genius, where he's more dedicated and prideful towards his intellect. Of course I'm still keeping him as a weird and hyper personal so that he easily goes along Corey's and his brother's antics, but he flips a switch when it comes to his projects. Let's say that something goes wrong with one of his inventions or if something offends his knowledge, he would be go on a tirade and start cursing left and right when he's alone, though comedically he would immediately calm down in front of his friends as if nothing happened. He never directly goes off or shown to have any kind of hostility towards anyone, but there is only one exception, Kim. Whenever Kin sees Kim, they both can't help themselves but get hostile and have this kind of pissing contest against one another to see who was more smart. Kin doesn't exactly know why he's so honest when it comes to Kim or how she gets on his nerves so quickly and the same could be said about her as well, the only one that seems to get a clue is Konnie.)

Role: Kin is one of the key members of Grojband, taking the many vital roles as the band's keyboardist, audio technician, and remixer; many of the final music productions is almost entirely relied on him. Along side that, with his knowledge of science and machines, he's also relied as the band's auto-mechanic for the maintenance and repairs for their tour bus.

Bio: Kin lived in Japan most of his life with her brother Kon and the rest of the Kujira Family, along with another named the Kagami Family. Parents of both families were inseparable friends who spent many years together, thus he and his brother grew up knowing the children of the other family, Kim and Konnie. Kin was fond with Konnie and treated her like family, but for he couldn't quite get along with Kim. Whenever he saw her, he would start to flare up and butt heads with her over every little thing, especially when it came to academics. This is because unlike Kim, Kin was not born as a prodigy, in fact he did quite poorly in school to a point where at times even his brother would have better grades than him. It bothers him at times, especially when he compares himself to a natural born genius like Kim, but that didn't discourage him from improving his mind. Kin has always prided himself with learning and especially towards things he didn't know or quite understood.

For years, he constantly studied, analyzed, and improved all his effort in order to surpass Kim and show that his hard work could overtake her natural born talent; though she didn't make it easy and would gloat whenever she came out on top. As this continued, Kin would only grow from all his failures until one day he finally did it and beat Kim in a subject, that being music. His hard work paid off and since then both him and her would go back and forth trying to out due the other in all kinds of fields. Despite whatever awards or recognition either one gained from their rivalry, they didn't pay heed as they solely focused on one thing, each other.

One day, his parents were informed to be transferred overseas for work, so the Kujira Family, along with the Kagami Family, moved to America. With his weird personality, it didn't take long for Kin to get along with people in his first couple of days. He was quite the busybody as so many people tried to get him into so many after school clubs and communities due to his dedication and intelligence. But the one that finally got him was actually a band from his brother's classmate, Corey Riffin. Kon wanted them to play music together since Kin already accumulated many music awards from being a ceremonial pianist and a composer. He was hesitant at first, but after hearing Kon out some more and finally meeting Corey, he was more than willing to join up. After meeting Corey in person and hearing his dreams, his words resonated with Kin and made him really want to see what he'll do next.

#total drama #total drama island #tdi #fanart #grojband #total drama fanart #kin #kin kujira

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footprintsinthesxnd · 2 months

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Chapter 5: You Will Always Have My Heart

Eugene Roe x Violet Elwood

Summary: Eugene didn’t know that love could hurt so much, until he met Violet and then all he could think about was her. As Violet’s condition worsens, Eugene grows to realise just how fragile love is. Warnings: mentions of hospitals, critically ill oc, heart break, grief, death

November 20th 1941

Eugene tapped his foot against the cool, tiled floor of the hospital waiting room, knocking along to Artie Shaw on the radio on the nurses station. Violet was in for a check up with the Cardiologist but she’d been gone a little while now and the longer she was away the more anxious Eugene became.

A few minutes later, Violet pushed open the large double doors and made her way down the corridor to greet him, pulling him in for a hug.

“What happened? What did the doctor say? What’s the…?”

“Eugene calm down,” Violet laughed, pulling back from his arms and cupping his cheek, “Everything’s fine, well as fine as things can be. I’m fine, Gene.” She reassured him, pressing her lips to his. He melted into the kiss, the thoughts rushing through his mind slowed as her lips moved on his own.

“But what…” kiss “did the…” kiss “Vi…” kiss. Eugene gave up trying to speak and instead kissed Violet back firmly, his hand coming to rest on her lower back.

“You talk too much, Gene,” she grinned, smoothing her fingers through his dark locks, playfully pulling at the strands and causing him to sigh at the contact.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Vi,” he mumbled, burying his head into her neck and holding her close.

“I’m afraid that I’ll be the one dying first, Gene,” she smiled sadly, holding him close to her.

The hustle and bustle of the hospital faded around them and nothing else mattered in that moment. All Eugene could concentrate on was the woman in his arms, the woman he loved so dearly.

Violet felt a small tear trailing down her cheek as Eugene held her. She hated lying to him but she knew how upset he’d be if she told him the truth. At least this way they could still enjoy their time together without having the time limit the doctor expected hanging over them. Violet tried to push the doctor's words from her mind as Eugene led her from the hospital and towards the bus stop. She hated being so reliant on other people but as simple daily tasks grew ever harder and even breathing was an effort she knew she didn’t have much choice. As they took their seat on the bus, the exertion of the morning caught up with her and she slipped into a dreamless sleep in Eugene’s arms.

December 8th 1941

Violet was sleeping peacefully in her hospital bed, the early morning light creeping through the blinds, illuminating her pale features. She looked tired, with dark, purple circles painted underneath her bright, blue eyes, her cheeks hollowed and her cheekbones protruding more than they used to. But she was still his beautiful girl, Eugene thought to himself as he pushed her blonde locks from her forehead.

The radio was buzzing dramatically in the corner and Eugene stood to move closer, turning up the volume as the president, Franklin D Roosevelt’s voice filled the room.

‘Yesterday, December 7, 1941 a date which will live in infamy the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.’

Eugene froze beside the radio, listening to the president addressing Congress. The speech continued and he took a seat beside the radio, turning up the volume and listening as the president's words resonated with him.

‘The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost.’

His words flowed out of the radio, sickening everyone in the hospital, no one walked past the door.

‘I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire’

Eugene took in a sharp breath, the US had declared war on Japan. They were going to war. What would that mean for him? For Violet? Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Violet stirred under the covers.

“Gene?” She mumbled sleepily and he was by her side in an instant, smoothing his hand over her cheek.

“I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m here. How are you feeling?” He crouched beside her bed, resting his head on their clasped hands.

“My… chest hurts,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding shut before she opened them again. She had a procedure the other day and it had taken its toll on her, she was weaker now. Every day seemed like a struggle and he heard one of the nurses mention it was unlikely that she��d be going home again.

“I know, Sweetheart,” Eugene moved so he could lay on the bed beside her and she snuggled against his chest. He could feel her heart beating slowly beside him, lub dub, lub dub.

“What was on the radio?” Violet asked, glancing up at Gene.

He smiled sadly at her, unsure of how to break the news to her, “You know Pearl Harbour was attacked?”

She nodded slowly. “Well the US has declared war on Japan.”

Violet pushed herself up carefully so she could face him properly, “Does that… does that mean you’ll have to go? Go to war?”

Eugene shook his head, “I don’t know yet, but I promise I’m not leaving you unless I have to. You hear me?”

Violet smiled, reaching up but Eugene craned his neck so she could reach his lips easily, planting a small kiss before laying back down.

Violet soon slipped back into her slumber but Eugene couldn’t rest, his mind drifting to the President’s words. What would that mean for his future?

December 11th 1941

“Good mornin’, Sweetheart,” Eugene greeted her, a bunch of flowers in his hand as he moved around the bed, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Good mornin’, Gene, she smiled weakly, reaching out her hand to hold his. He squeezed it gently, pulling up a chair to sit beside her bed. “How are you feelin’ today?”

“She shrugged her shoulders, “Same as yesterday, Gene.”

Eugene nodded slowly, she’d been having a bad week, lots of chest pains, lots of episodes of breathlessness. She was now on oxygen full time and had a nurse coming in every half an hour to monitor her vitals.

Eugene knew that things weren’t going to get better than this, they could only get worse. One of the nurses warned him that she may eventually slip into a coma if she became too weak. It broke his heart to see her suffering so much. She barely ate, most of her nutrition was given via liquid food, and she could barely move. Eugene had taken her for a walk around the hospital grounds in a wheelchair the other day and it was nice to see her smile again.

“How’s your family?” Violet asked, raining her head from the pillow to glance at him, her blue eyes shining brighter than ever but the rest of her seemed to be fading faster by the day.

“They’re okay. They said they’ll be poppin’ by later to see you. Wanted to check on you,” Eugene reassured her. He picked up her hairbrush from the bedside cabinet, smoothing it carefully through her blonde locks. She’d always taken such care of her hair, always neatly curled and pinned, but now it lay flat against her head, lifeless.

“Thank you, Gene. For everything.”

“Of course. I love you, of course I’m gonna look after you,” he pressed his lips against her forehead and she sighed sleepily. “Do you want me to go so you can get some rest?”

“No, no please stay,” Violet shuffled cautiously across the bed to make room for Eugene, “Will you hold me for a while.”

Eugene smiled widely at her, “Of course, Sweetheart.” He slid in easily beside her, wrapping his body around her tiny, weak frame.

December 14th 1941

“I’m afraid it’s not good news, Eugene,” Violet's father explained.

The family were sitting in the waiting room, her mother and sister crying quietly in the corner. Her father had tears in his eyes but he was fighting them, trying to remain strong for his family's sake.

“The doctors don’t think she has long. I’m so sorry, son.” Violet’s father placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before moving back to be with his family.

Eugene was frozen to the spot, the noise of the hospital fading around him into a blur of white noise. The flowers he’d been clutching fell limp to the floor, their petals splaying across the tiles. His mouth was dry, air barely reaching his lungs before it escaped in a sharp breath. He felt his knees buckle, hitting the ground hard, but he didn’t notice the pain. He didn’t feel anything, not anymore.

December 16th 1941

Violet’s breaths were short and shallow, her eyes closed as she rested peacefully against Eugene’s shoulder. Her family all sat around her, their eyes rimmed red and puffy. They had all cried enough over the last few days that Eugene thought he’d never cry again. How could he ever cry over anything else when the worst possible thing had already happened?

“Gene,” Violet mumbled weakly, causing Eugene to jump slightly.

“Yes, Vi.”

“I don’t want to die here, not in this hospital,” she glanced up at him, her hand cupping his cheek. “I want to go back to the lake, it’s our place. I want to go back to the lake, Gene.”

Eugene looked down at her sadly, “We can’t go the lake, Sweetheart. You’re not well enough.”

“Gene, I’m never going to get any better than this. The worst thing that could happen is that I’d die and I’m dying anyway,” she retorted, she understood his anxiousness but at the same time she needed to do this, it was her last chance.

Eugene glanced up at Violet’s family, trying to gauge their reaction. Eugene’s father stood up, giving Eugene a curt nod.

“I’ll bring the car around.”

The drive to the lake was a short one. By the time Eugene had carried Violet out to the car and her mother had carried out her oxygen bottle, her father had brought the car around.

They all bundled in, no one moaning about the tight squeeze or the stuffy air. Violet was sitting on his lap, clinging tightly to the front of his shirt.

“Thank you, Gene, she mumbled, pressing her lips gently to his neck. Eugene had to fight back the tears as he looked down at her, trying to steady his breathing so she didn’t realise he was crying.

When the car pulled up as close to the lake as they could, Violet’s family hurried out of the car, helping carry the oxygen as Eugene carried Violet. They picked a quiet spot, the same spot where Eugene and Violet had their second date.

Violet’s mother lay down a blanket from the back of the car, laying it on the grass so they could sit down. Eugene sat down first so that Violet could sit between his legs, leaning against his chest.

Violet’s mother hovered behind them until her father ushered her away. “Give them some time, Love. She wants to be with Eugene.”

Eugene watched as they walked back to the car, he knew he was hurting but how much pain must they be in losing their eldest daughter?

The sun was hanging low in the sky, just like it had been on their second date. It cast a bright orange glow, like the sky was burning, a lit the flames. The lake itself glowed orange, reflecting the setting sun's rays. It felt as though the whole world was alight.

Eugene grasped Violet’s hands, wrapping them in his own and pulling them close to their chests. He could feel her heartbeat, weak but steady beneath his hands. He could feel her breaths, short and sharp.

“It’s so beautiful,” Violet whispered, her eyes shining brightly in the setting sun and it reminded Eugene of the old Violet before she was sick. The time when they had everything to live for.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled into her hair, burying his face and taking a long, deep breath. She didn’t smell like she used to, of roses and lavender. She smelled clinical, like the hospital. It was as if that place had drained the life from her instead of trying to save it. “You’re perfect.”

“But my heart’s not, that’s far from perfect. I’m sorry my heart wasn’t good enough” she mumbled, glancing up at Eugene, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be perfect for you, Eugene.

Eugene but back a sob, “No, no don’t you ever say that. You are perfect, Violet. God, you are so perfect. Your heart was all I could have ever asked for. I love you so much.” He pulled her in tighter so that she was sat in his lap, her head resting against the crook of his neck.

“I wish we could have had longer,” Violet cried, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed, her breath becoming short, small gasps escaping her. Eugene placed the oxygen mask over her mouth, rubbing her back comfortingly as she coughed.

“It’s okay, Vi. It’s alright. We had the time that God decided for us and it was the best time of my life. I love you so much, don’t ever forget that.”

Violet nodded slowly, unable to speak as she breathed as best she could through the oxygen mask. He placed his lips on her forehead, kissing her lightly as he closed his eyes and began to hum quietly. Violet's breathing became slower, shallower as he hummed and she relaxed into him.

Eugene smoothed his hand over her hair, watching as her blue eyes slid closed, small breaths leaving her lips. “It’s okay, Violet. It’s okay to let go, I’ve got you now.” He whispered into her ear, rocking her slowly, “I love you.”

Violet’s body relaxed in his arms, her breathing slowed until it became inaudible, and her heartbeat slowed beneath his hand.

“Thank you, Gene. Thank you for loving me,” she whispered, taking one last deep breath before she fell silent, slipping away from the world. Eugene watched as her body relaxed, her ragged breathing stilled and her heartbeat stopped under his hand. She looked so peaceful, her face no longer lined with worry, but her flesh smooth over her gaunt features. She was finally at peace.

Eugene’s tears flowed freely now, he didn’t want her to see him crying, didn’t want her last memory to be of him in a state, but now he could. He didn’t hold anything back, clutching her lifeless body as if she could anchor him to this world as he fell apart.

“Goodbye Violet,” he sobbed, “I love you.”

December 20th 1941

Eugene bundled some belongings into his kit bag, mainly a few spare pairs of clothes, some smart shoes, and a book for the train journey. His parents were going to drop him off at the station to start his journey to basic training. He’d never managed to tell Violet he’d enlisted on December 12th, it seemed so far away at the time.

His parents were waiting outside as he collected up his last few things, shoving the photo of his family into his book so it wouldn’t become damaged.

The scrapbook Violet gave him for his birthday sat on his bedside table, pride of place. He’d looked through the photos every night since she passed, reading over her words of encouragement. She knew him so well. Each phrase or paragraph made him smile, they got him through each day without her.

As he turned over the final page of the book he noticed a white piece of paper sticking out the edge of the book. He pulled it free, unfolding the paper and revealing a letter written in Violet’s hand. Eugene felt the scrapbook fall from his hands and onto his bed. His eyes trained on the letter.

To My Dearest Eugene,

By the time you read this letter, I will be gone. I wish we could have had more time together, but then all of the time in the world would still not have been enough.

To be loved by you was the greatest treasure of my life. You are a special man Eugene Roe. You filled my life with light and I don’t want you to hide that light from the world. I want you to show the world how wonderful you are Eugene and you have to promise me that you will love again. I know that there is someone else out there for you and I want you to find her. She will be so lucky to have you Gene.

Thank you for everything Eugene, thank you for making me feel special and for loving me despite knowing our ending. I wish you all the luck in the world, my love. I love you with all my heart.

Yours always

Violet

Eugene didn’t find the usual tears slipping down his face but instead, a wide smile spread across his lips. He folded the letter, placing it alongside the picture of himself and Violet, before doing up his kit bag and sliming it over his shoulder. He gave one last glance at his childhood bedroom, unsure of when he would next see it. He walked down the familiar stairs and along the corridor. He looked back at the house he had occupied for the last 20 years, filled with so many memories.

“Thank you, Violet.” He closed the door, following his way down the familiar path and towards the car. He’d soon be in another State on a very different path than he’d imagined but at least he knew that no matter what Violet would be watching over him.

Tags: @blueberry-ovaries @mads-weasley @coco-bean-1218 @she-wolf09231982 @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @xxluckystrike @hogwartslegacypics @softguarnere

#heart to heart #Eugene roe x Violet Elwood #eugene roe x oc #band of brothers #Eugene roe

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 9 months

Note

I see where you're going with that breakup. It does leave me questions about Harrys reaction? Correct me if im wrong here but he's been more quiet on that front, so maybe he's more accepting of his fate? Also the leak about missing home makes more sense when you realize harry is probably trying to reach back out to his old friends in England. He wants to live a more active lifestyle where he's traveling more frequently. His Japan(?) Singapore and Germany trips reflect that.

With meghan, I can't quite pin down whether or not she understands that she likely won't be getting additional money? That house is it.

Harry isn't welcome back in England anymore, but meghan isn't getting anything else. This is why I don't think meghan has filed yet and she wants to stick around for his events later this fall. She has to rebuild trust with alot of people and shes hoping that these events will do that.

Oh, she knows she’s not getting more money. That’s why she hired WME.

Harry wanted to attack his family and attack the UK press. That is main motivator. The love story with the biracial America divorcee was just a means to an end.

I don’t think he likes Montecito and I wouldn’t be surprised if it eventually comes out that he was living in FrogCott for most of 2022 and right up to the eviction. I think he’s perfectly happy living in an African lodge paid for by Sentebale, traveling the world with Invictus/polo funds, and staying in a comped hotel room while visiting the kids every couple of weeks. That’s the kind of life he grew up with. I think he’s setting up the life he wants and it doesn’t involve Montecito. It also doesn’t cost very much and is mostly funded by his charities. The RoyalTea account tweeted that after the divorce they could both focus on their main goal: to be Diana. That’s what Harry is going to do.

The problem is Meghan. And how she’s going to pay for her life.

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silent-sanctum · 11 months

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Can you write like a little cute one shot or Drabble of Jotaro (part 3 or 4 don’t matter to me) learning that his crush is a celebrity from America that has come to Japan? If you use part 3 then you can use the exchange student trope!!! 😳

you thought it was just gonna be a drabble? But it was me! A short fic! but sure I'll write a cute lil sumn for you honey ^^ And before reading this, I'm gonna give a bit of context for this world. I used 4taro for this one, placed him in a modern au in Tokyo where Stands don't exist, he isn't married, and he's just living life as an ordinary marine biologist on a break. With that given, hope you enjoy~ ^^

Still with You - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 2.3k

To be labeled as a “poor oblivious old man” at the age of 28 was something Jotaro would dismiss in less than a second, but considering what just happened to him… might as well live up to it for a day or two.

What transpired for that name to be given to him?

The whole thing started one fateful afternoon when the marine biologist earned himself a well-deserved break from a week-long dive into the Pacific Ocean, and he opted to visit a local café that was near his office. It was small and family-owned, serving only up to 20 customers max.

He wasn’t the type to be too picky in choosing his cup of coffee, so visiting small-business shops would end up in his subconscious to-do lists during his free time. Besides, the place was homey- had nice furnishing, theme, and a small stage for any singer to perform on.

It also happened to rain heavily that day, leaving Jotaro holed up in the tiny establishment. Then again, he wasn’t complaining. He loved the sound of the the drops pitter-pattering on the pavement outside while he sipped his warm drink, white coat draped over his shoulders.

The door opened, signaled by the chiming of the bells above. A person hurried inside dressed with a bucket hat, mask, and hoodie, half-drenched by the downpour outside. The owner addressed the soaked clothes but the lady merely shrugged them off and lifted a bag, stating she had extra dry clothes.

Again, Jotaro wouldn’t have even paid attention on a normal day, but for some reason he was curious on what she was up to considering her inconvenient situation. He played it nonchalantly, taking another sip from his cup and waited for her to return in new clothes.

He watched her wave to the eager-looking customers with a beaming smile as she approached the stage with freshly changed clothes and a microphone in hand.

Jotaro cocked a brow. A performance? He huffed. It’s been awhile since I’ve indulged in music. Might as well.

The lights dimmed for the spotlights to focus on her. The music opened to the sound of rain ambiance then combined with the muffled instrumentals, she began to sing:

Your light voice that passes by me Would you please call my name one more time Although I’m paused underneath the frozen sunset I’ll walk towards you one step at a time Still with you

The piano began to play and somehow, the atmosphere grew cozier than before as the soothing jazz music played out. The crowd began to sway, some recorded the singer on their phones, and Jotaro ended up in a trance, focused on the person behind the vocals.

She continued to sing the following verses with an almost alluring tone to it like a siren playing her song to the helpless sailors lost at sea, washing over their worries with a waves of calm and comfort. Eventually, as the chorus came, he found himself unable to tear his eyes off from the performer, his head slightly swaying as a victim to the music.

Her eyes would close from time to time, and when it wasn’t, she would sweep her gaze across the room, watching her audience to let them know that the song was theirs to enjoy.

But then as she reached the verse after the chorus, her gaze stopped at him and with maintained eye contact, continued to sing:

The moon looked lonely It looked like it’s crying brightly in the night sky Though I know that the morning will come I wanted to stay by your sky like a star

The day, the moment If I knew it will be like this I would have kept more of them When will it be if I see you again face to face I’ll look you in the eye and say I missed you

At that one moment, Jotaro’s heart fluttered beneath his stone-mask façade, breathless. What was the purpose of that prolonged eye contact? Or was he overthinking? She may have turned away back to the others, but he couldn’t forget how she didn’t stray away from his gaze for that long.

But even then, he couldn’t stop watching. The chill music didn’t help either. The chill beats were the type of tunes he’d hear from his playlist, and he’d hear from his coworkers that there was the additional charm when hearing it live.

And he’d be lying if he said that was a false statement.

He tried to pull away from the melody as the song neared its end, but as if the singer sensed his intentions, her hooded gaze returned to him and he couldn’t turn away as she sang the final verses of the song:

Behind the faint smiles that gaze at me I want to paint with the beautiful light Even though our footsteps might not match I want to walk this path together with you Still with you

The café burst in applause, some cheering as the performer smiled at the crowd with a bashful smile and bow. “Thank you everyone!” With one last wave, she walked off the stage with a bounce to her steps.

Yet Jotaro still remained on his seat, brows furrowed as he could only stare into the half-emptied cup in his hand that has gone cold. That was intentional. He shook his head and drank, not minding the coolness of his coffee. Impossible. What are you even thinking? Has Polnareff filled my head with all his nonsensical sappiness? He rubbed his temple with the added stress. Damn you Pol-

“Uhm… hi there.”

Damn me. Jotaro didn’t reply anything back to the singer standing by the chair opposite of him, a cup of coffee in hand, the smile still fixated on that face of hers as she spoke fluent Japanese to him. “You wouldn’t mind if I sit here, right?”

“Why here?” He said, arms crossed. “Aren’t there other tables for special guests like you?”

She shrugged. “There are, but there are some things that need addressing and will keep me awake all night if left unsaid.”

He scoffed. Tell me about it. Without a word, she took her spot in front of him and set her warm drink on the table. “So… I know you noticed something during my intermission.”

The maintained eye contact with the lyrics? “And what would that be?”

“Being stoic are we?” She chucked. “Well, I know you know what happened so I’m not going to beat around the bush any longer. First thing’s first,” a hand reached out to him. “Y/N. Just a tourist on vacation, but you may have known me from somewhere.”

He tilted his head and tried to remember the many face he’d seen throughout his life, but he couldn’t recognize yours in any. Regardless, he shook your hand. “Jotaro. And no, I don’t know who you are.”

You widened your eyes. “Really? Even from somewhere like… I don’t know… movies or shows from the States? Showbiz, Internet, and all?”

He shook his head. “I don’t watch much media nowadays, neither do I stay online. Too busy with work. I’m also not interested in showbiz. Why? Am I supposed to know you?”

“Oh no! No no no,” you laughed, nervous. “I’m just a cover artist in YouTube. When I’m not busy, I sing either to myself or to others, like now. I just asked… out of curiosity.”

“Mm… I see,” Jotaro said. “Though I’m still asking why you chose this table specifically among-”

“You’re cute.”

He stopped short, mouth agape with words left unsaid. What followed was his cheeks growing warm together with the tips of his ears and his eyes widening by a bit. “Ah…”

“Hey, I told you I’m not gonna beat around the bush,” you giggled, shrugging. “And I’d be lying if I told you that you were otherwise.”

Jotaro cleared his throat as he looked away, lower half of his face hidden with the back of his hand. “That was so sudden, I apologize if I’m turning away for a bit.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” You said. “It’s natural for the crowd to turn bashful around my presence after all~”

“Well, aren’t you boastful…” He said lightheartedly, glancing back at you for a second.

You hummed, leaning on your hand on the table as you stirred your drink with a small cheeky smile and slightly puffed cheeks that surely didn’t tug at his heartstrings. “Can’t help it. It just comes naturally good sir.”

It took him a couple of minutes to recollect himself from the out-of-nowhere compliment. Only after about 5 sips of caffeine and the simple music of the cafe’s playlist did Jotaro turn back to face you with a straight back and steeled face. An imperfect one at that with how his brows were furrowed and how his cheeks were still likely tinted pink.

“Uhm… thanks.”

You smiled at him and nodded in acknowledgment, closing your eyes to take a long sip of your drink. Shit, what now? Part of him wanted to remain quiet, waiting for you to continue talking, but another wanted him to say something back to not make the conversation too one-sided.

“I…” You looked at him again with shining eyes and he had urges to just back out and leave with a lame excuse. But he trudged on… the best he can. “I- You… you have a nice voice. And music.”

This time, your cheeks bloomed a warm pink and hints of a shy smile were forming, and Jotaro looked away for the umpteenth time, the visual too endearing for him to handle. “But I know you already knew that. Might as well give my review.”

“I can tell,” you said, breathy as if you had to stifle in your bashful chuckles. “You kept watching me when I sang in front of you all with this look of intrigue and awe, and…” A huff of breath. “I couldn’t help but return it. The cover I chose to use today certainly didn’t help either.”

As you let out a short embarrassed laugh with your hand covering your smile, your eyes closed from the joy that paired with your natural blush, Jotaro couldn’t help but smile back with his own cheeks warm. Your happiness was infectious apparently.

“You know,” you started as you finished your drink and got ready to leave. “You’re a nice guy despite your initial grumpy demeanor.”

“Get used to it. It’s not a demeanor.”

“Oh? Are you implying we’re gonna meet again, Jotaro?” you asked with a raised brow and he spluttered, not used to hearing his name being blurt out from your lips with that voice. At his response or lack thereof, you chuckled and ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook in your bag.

“I see. Lucky for you, I too hope we get to hang out together like this sometime soon.” With a pen from your pocket, you wrote down a series of numbers and your name with it. A second later, you handed your number for him to take. “Will I be expecting something from you soon?”

Jotaro cocked his head with regard and took the slip of paper. With no hesitation, he folded in half and ripped it, leaving your number unharmed as he took out his own pen and wrote his on the other blank half.

“I don’t mind chatting with you,” He slid his contact to you. “But don’t expect me to be the one to start conversation. As I said, I’m busy.”

You scoffed, albeit playful and smiling, liking his wager. “We’ll see about that.”

It’s been a week since your encounter with him at that mini café, and even in the midst of paperwork and research, Jotaro couldn’t forget the sweet-voiced singer and the song she sung.

He knew when it came to these feelings, he didn’t know shit about them and so he wasn’t aware that they’d persist for this long.

Jotaro didn’t want to do this but he figured he’d first figure out to deal with the current issue through communication with a friend or two. Either that or end up thinking about a café performer who he just met 24/7 until god knows when.

Suffice to say, he came out of the conversation dumbfounded, flattered, and very much the one with a mind of an “old man”:

“Pol, can I ask you something?”

“Jotaro asking me questions? Now that’s a first! What is it buddy?”

“Something happened when I was at a cafe and… ah good grief, I can’t believe I’m about to say this…”

“What? Tell me! You say it like it’s something serious-”

“I think I got… I have… a crush on somebody.”

…

“Oh my god. You’re 11 years too late but holy shit! My man! Finally! Do you have her number?”

“Ah right. It’s here.”

“Aha~ A phone number~ So you weren’t lying. Did you text her?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I did Pol.”

“Oh?”

“OH?!”

“What is it this time?”

“Jotaro, you have a popular actress crushing on you?!”

“Huh?”

“Y/N L/N?! The Y/N L/N?!?! MY GUY-”

“She’s one of the most critically acclaimed celebrities in the United States. I’m definitely sure Mr. Joestar have heard of her since he’s always glued to whatever’s showing on screen. She also has her own YouTube channel where she does a lot of gorgeous covers of her favorite artists!”

“Oh.”

“'Oh' doesn’t cover the fact that you discovered one of her secret busking spots, got her to talk to you over coffee, liked it, AND GOT HER TO LIKE YOU.”

“Ah.”

“YOU REALLY DIDN’T KNOW?!”

“I don’t watch much and I’m not on the Internet as much so-”

“Damn I may be the older adult here but you sure are one poor oblivious old man.”

…

“So are you going to help me talk to her again or not?”

“You bet your stone aged ass I will. Just make sure I get an autograph in return~”

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #kudos to the people who knows what song yn's covering here hehehehe

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manias-wordcount · 1 year

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Got another request for ya! :D

Can I please request headcanons for Joker, Ann, and Akechi being invited to Sunday dinner with their American S/O's family?

Sunday Dinner HCs (Akira Kurusu, Ann Takamaki, Goro Akechi)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼 !!!! 𝗶𝗺 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 (𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗸𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗽𝘀 𝗟𝗢𝗟) 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗶 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝘁. 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

Joker

Your family will be charmed by him, that’s for sure

Your family is gonna think he’s real handsome and they’re gonna say he sounds real smart and polite

Might be a little blunt when telling him to speak up when his accent gets in the way of him speaking English but they’re impressed by how fluent he is

And you know someone is gonna say “Damn, and I can barely speak English!”

At the table, someone (probably Mom or Grandma or even Auntie) is trying to fix his plate

“Just point at what you want baby, I’ll get it for you” type beat

Of course, he’s a bit overwhelmed and culture-shocked- America is a very different place from Japan after all

But with your help and with how excited and welcoming your family actually is, he gets comfortable relatively quickly

And it feels like there’s never a dull moment while he’s with you and your family in the states

Just don’t tell them he was on probation- that’s a whole can of worms you don’t want to mess with

Ann Takamaki

First thing you’re gonna hear when the food gets set out and everyone starts fixing plates is “Eat baby, you’re too skinny”

Now of course, you know that you and Ann are both perfectly fine the way you two look but…

Ann canNOT say no to all the homecooked meals in front of her so she’s more than ready to let everyone pile a little bit of what they want her to try

When she talks to your family in English, everyone is just floored by how different she sounds because of the accent change

And they all want to know all about her parent role in the fashion world and her job as a model

Naturally, there are gonna be a few people upset to hear how she had spent so much time alone as a kid but they remedy that by saying she’s always welcomed back anytime she wants

Pretty much, your family lowkey adopted her

Out of everyone, Ann is able to take this experience in stride the most since she has experienced so many different cultures while she moving around when she was younger

And her personality makes her so easily liked and well-received that it’s just a good experience all around

Especially when Auntie brings out dessert and lets Ann have the first piece

Goro Akechi

Oh they’re IMPRESSED by him

Highschool detective? Making his own money? And he’s handsome?

All around the table, people are gonna be asking him questions about his job and how much money he makes and all that

And they’re gonna be hanging onto his every word so much that food goes cold

And when Goro accidentally lets it slip that he’s an orphan with the shittiest absent-tee father in the world?

You know everyone and their momma are gonna start hollering and getting mad for him

All the while Grandma is shaking her head and piling a mountain of food on his plate like he’s suddenly one of her grandkids

Of course, he’ll gonna be a bit unsure of all this affection- he grew up without it and Japanese culture is just so different from all this

But he eventually warms up to it all and finds himself receiving the warm love of family that he always wanted but never thought he would get

And naturally, your family is very proud to welcome such a successful, impressive young man into their family as soon as possible (think of the bragging rights lol)

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ayayumastan · 9 months

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Diaboys (+Yui) Ideal Vacation destination •3•

•Yui grew up so sheltered, she barley saw anything in Japan X-X. So I think she should visit Mt. Fuji first, you know, get to know see the main attraction of her country. She definitely has dreams to travel the world tho.

•Shu does NOT travel. Too much effort. But if he did I think somewhere very secluded. I really like the Idea of him in Greenland, but it might bring back some traumatic memories… (the girls that get it, get it). So maybe and Icelandic Island, or somewhere in the Scottish highlands (can someone please draw Shu chilling with Nessie X-X).

•Reiji is fluid in German so I think he should visit the alps, but the Austrian ones. With all due respect I don’t think my man can handle north Germany X-X (as a German who’s das lives in north Germany, but grew up in the south. I know). I also have a headcanon, that Reiji is very good at skiing. Not sure if he can understand Austrian alp dialect (my grandmas from there so again. I know) but I believe in him

•Ayato would probably be somewhere warme. To do all the water sports and stuff. I really like the Idea of him in Mexico

•Kanato CAN’T go anywhere too warm or sunny. I think Switzerland, the mother of chocolate (let’s not talk about where chocolate is ACTUALLY from). Swiss chocolate just hits different

•Laito goes to Greece. It’s just right.

•Subaru is also not a travel man, but I like him in either the Netherlands or New Zealand. I can’t explain it just feels right

•Ruki would probably go somewhere in the Caucasus area, like turkey or Armenia (yes I know turkey isn’t actually Caucasus area, but I forgot the English word for it). Like I totally think he would explore the remains of Troy (if it really was troy) and go to archeological sights. I also like the idea of him in west Africa for the same reason.

•Yuma would go to a small village in Calabria (I hope that’s also what it’s called in English, but anyways it’s in south Italy). He would have his own little garden there and gets along great with the locals, despite not speaking a word of Italien.

•Kou has traveled the world, since yk he’s famous. So I think he’d go on a wellness retreat on a mountain in Nepal, or to live with yaks in Mongolia.

•Azusa would either go to the middle of the Saharan desert or to Siberia. No in between. I like him more in Siberia tho. Fun fact: my fathers from a little city in the very VERY west of Siberia, and I’d just think it’s cute if he went there :3 (I’ve literally never been there, even tho I’d really like to go. I just know my dad was born there)

•The Tsukinamis travel together. No other option. If it were up to Carla (which it mostly is) they take a tour around Europe. If it were up to Shin, they’d go somewhere tropical, and very much not Europe, like maybe Kongo or somewhere in South America.

•Kino goes to Korea. Again I can’t explain it, it just makes sense. I won’t specify which Korea… because he would just go to both

#ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers #dialovers #rejet #sakamaki brothers #yuma mukami #mukami brothers #carla tsukinami #kou mukami #reiji sakamaki

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articalextraordinaire · 11 months

Text

hi guys, sorry for dying lmao. anyways... do you guys want some ninjago ethnic and cultural headcanons??? (theyre almost all east/south/southeast asian btw // srry if u wanted more central/western asian rep.. caucasus dont count theyre too european /hj)

Arin: y'know the fact that there's like a ton of different tribes in papua new guinea? yeah, maybe one of those but i don't wanna be disrespectful so i'll do more research first before fully commiting. other thoughts are timorese or other indigenous groups from/near eastern indonesia.

Sora: look at those cat ears and try to tell me that she is NOT japanese. just- cmon man. plus, imperium is like a futuristic imperial japan or a futuristic version of that time the tokugawa family was in charge and locked down the country.

Lloyd (as well as the entire FSM bloodline): either tibetian or bhutanese. FSM just gives some budhist vibes so yeah. this isnt going to be about religion but religion does kind of affect ethnicity and culture so it does have a very minor role in making these headcanons. nepali works too but nepal is kinda nore hindu so yeah..

Kai and Nya: indomalay. mostly the indo part.. like- cmon, fire and water, indonesia is an archipelago with a shit ton of volcanoes (philippines too but we'll get there, sandali lang muna ;) ) i cant get into specifics cuz im not too well-researched but yeah. also, vibes 👌

Zane: siberian or he's from one of the islands extremely north of japan that japan and russia keep on disputing over. purely because of geography and ✨vibes✨

Cole: mixed black latino-filipino. as a filipino myself i wanted to make someone filipino =). since a lotta people were making cole black, i thought that i might as well make him mixed <3. plus, the philippines is also a former spanish colony so it just makes sense. if you want a more specific country, either colombia or the dominican republic are cool. not very well-researched on the different latin american countries so if anyone wants to tell me the most appropriate country for cole pls let me know 🥰.

Jay: umm, i sorta have a dillema over this. im thinking either korean or he's from somewhere in the gobi desert like mongolia or inner mongolia (its a province in china btw). korean bc the entertainment and beauty industry as well as the student and work culture kinda fit him. but somewhere in the gobi desert is nice bc the desert is where he grew up. maybe he's korean but grew up in a mongolian-chinese environment but yeah, im not too sure about him 🤷‍♀️. im leaning more towards korean but yeah, not sure.

Wyldfyre: i um... this was very hard. first of all, she's not gonna be asian since i couldn't find a good enough area in asia and well, im pretty sure she's not from ninjago so she doesn't have to be asian. so, i got maori in northern new zealand but 1. i know nothing about the maori people 2. it might be disrespectful to portray them like that. and 3. er, the geography is kinda off. where she grew up looks very desert-y and volcanic. i think a more suitable reigon is in south america towards the coast like peru or chile but um i know even less about the those reigions than new zealand. plus, it has the same first 2 problems i listed earlier. (yes im ignoring her clothes for these headcanons srry guys my brain loves topography too much) TLDR; idk man shes too hard to sort out lol. it adds more to her mystery and chaotic energy anyway so yeah.

if u know more abt latin american countries, pls give me pointers so that i can have more accurate headcanons for cole and wyldfyre. i can do my own research for kai, nya, and arin but any help with that is also very much appreciated 👍. peace ✌️

(this is what happens when u become a geography nerd... im not at my full potential yet bc my latin american knowledge and all of africa knowledge sucks. but yeah. bye fr this timeee)

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yunhsuanhuang · 3 months

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LOVE SONGS IN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE | YH HUANG

With apologies to A.L.

When I'm seventeen, I put a picture of Loretta Lynn in the back of my clear phone case. With the same care my best friends take in decorating trading cards of Jungkook and Jisoo, I get a pair of tweezers and my most expensive stickers, and make an afternoon out of sticking little daisies all over a glossy black-and-white printout of Loretta in the 70's. In the picture she's leaning against a tree, her dark hair long and thick, smiling at the viewer with the same unshakable confidence she's always had.

The next day, I slap my phone face-down on the cafeteria table. My friends go oh-my-god and you-actually-did-it and wait-that's-kinda-cute. We propose swapping some of our cards–I get Minho, she gets Randy– until the conversation derails to exams and teachers and the presentation that's due on Wednesday but none of us have started.

Then it's two weeks later, and when I wake up, thirteen hours after Kentucky does, I read that Loretta Lynn has passed away. A clickbait news site uses the same picture for her obituary.

Sometimes I feel like everything I love is already gone and I just don't know it yet.

so why do you like country music, my friend Alex asks me once.

Alex is American, but the South is as alien a place to him as it is to me– he grew up in suburban New Hampshire, after all, in an impossibly huge house bursting with beach-themed paraphernalia. America, to him, is Dunkin' Donuts and perfectly manicured lawns and the pale foam of the Atlantic cutting itself open over and over again against the sharpness of the rocks.

I squint at my phone. It's late, and I'm probably supposed to be asleep by now, but I'm fifteen and the year is 2020 and time stopped mattering somewhere in the middle of March. It's not like I have school tomorrow, anyway.

I type and retype my message for a while. Then, because it sounds about as good a reason as any, I say, idk i just like the fiddles

It's true. I do like the fiddles, and the steel guitar and the autoharp and the banjos too– the joyful clatter of it, the melody so much like flight. During quarantine, I spend a lot of time lying on the bedroom floor with my headphones on, blaring bluegrass at ear-destroying volumes. Maybe if I play it loud enough, if I squeeze my eyes shut hard enough, I can transport myself into the real thing: a honky-tonk with wood-panelled walls, heat and whiskey in the air, some familiar rhythm reverberating through the floorboards. Sometimes I even imagine myself there in the crowd, singing along.

–

In 1957, a song called Geisha Girl by Hank Locklin topped the country and western charts. It's about this American guy who arrives in Japan, falls in love with the titular Japanese geisha, and leaves his American wife for her. Well-trodden ground, both in art and in reality– after World War 2 ended, tens of thousands of Japanese women married American men for love, for money or for everything in between. Locklin's Geisha Girl became so popular that a song was released in reply to it–Skeeter Davis' Lost to a Geisha Girl, in which Davis takes on the persona of the man’s lover back home, scorning her fickle-hearted husband. As is common in reply songs, lyrics from the original are changed to fit the new perspective:

Locklin sings, Have you ever heard a love song that you didn't understand / when you met her in a teahouse on the island of Japan?

Davis sings: Why a love song with no meaning makes you happy, I don't know / I've lost you to a geisha girl where the ocean breezes blow.

A song you don't understand. A song with no meaning. A song in a language you don't speak. What's the difference, anyway?

In post-war Japan, a whole plethora of country music bands sprung up around the country, playing American hits for homesick soldiers: Tennessee Waltz, Lovesick Blues, Your Cheatin’ Heart.. The closer they were to the originals, the better. They'd bill themselves as the Japanese Hank Williams or John Denver or Patsy Cline. The catch? Some of these singers barely spoke English. painstakingly memorising each lyric until their L's and R's sounded just right. Yet, every Friday night they'd get up on that stage and sing songs they didn't understand about a country they'd never been to.

Just a few years ago, America had been Japan's worst enemy. But here their sons and daughters were, singing American songs, working in American jobs, marrying American men. In the present day, you could almost argue that the tables’ve turned: middle-schoolers debate anime at the cafeteria table; red-blooded blue-collar workers drive Toyotas and ride Kawasakis.

One thing that's stayed the same, though– American boys, Japanese girls. Love songs in a foreign language. Kind of a funny thing.

–

For hundreds of years, the West has been fascinated by the geisha. In Puccini’s 1904 opera Madama Butterfly, fifteen-year-old Butterfly is making her living as one when she’s bought by an American soldier named Pinkerton. He marries her, knocks her up, then ditches her in Japan while he marries an American woman. The whole time, Butterfly’s left to pine for him, and when Pinkerton returns to Japan with his wife, Butterfly stabs herself so that her son will be able to live in America with his father.

(Pinkerton, as you can probably tell, is kind of an ass.)

I keep thinking about Butterfly in that lonely, empty house in Japan, waiting for someone who didn’t love her back. I keep thinking about Alex: Alex and his horrible stupid round glasses and his old embarrassing love of Panic! at the Disco and his stupid cringe emojis, Alex who’s still the smartest person I know, Alex who was the first guy to ever pay attention to me. When I’m sixteen, I think about him almost constantly, a constant hum of obsession in the back of my head. I know I’m in love with him because that’s how all the songs go: Randy Travis declares that it’s deeper than the holler / stronger than the river; Deana Carter says it’s bittersweet / green on the vine; Keith Whitley confesses that it’s what I hear when you don’t say a thing.

Alex asks me, so what do you like about country music? And I don't know what to say to him, so I say nothing at all.

–

They read it in the tea leaves and it's written in the sand

I found love by the heart-full in a foreign distant land

–

Alex likes Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, the outlaws and the jailhouses and the pistols at the hip. My classmates like the feminist murder ballads, where they think she did it but they just can't prove it, where afterwards the girls sell Tennessee ham and strawberry jam / and they don't lose any sleep at night. I personally have a fondness for the silly and unserious: Alan Jackson extolling the virtues of grape snow cones, George Strait selling me the Golden Gate.

In the end, though, what I end up listening to most are the old songs– the really old ones, all the way back to the dawn of recording, the Golden Age of the radio. These songs, collected in the 1920s and 30s, are impressively varied in lyrical content: you’ve got the ones that are basically a soap opera stuffed into three minutes flat (Lorena, My Heart’s Tonight In Texas); the religious ones (Anchored in Love, Will the Circle Be Unbroken); the relatable ones (Give Me Your Love); the unrelatable ones (The Dying Soldier, No Depression In Heaven). What I like about them, I guess, is the familiar hiss of the vinyl, the way the lyrics are both specific and universal at once, their ability to make a time and a place that you’ve never been to before feel, inexplicably, like home.

Alex and I aren't anywhere near poor– his parents are both surgeons, and I spend my evenings trying not to fall asleep in increasingly expensive private lessons. But then again, neither were the Japanese country singers of the fifties and sixties, mainly college kids from elite families who could afford custom-made cowboy hats and genuine guitars. Hell, even the prince of Japan was said to be a country music fan in his youth. None of us have worked in the fields or in the mines, none of our parents have had to tell us here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down. We're the people Garth was referring to when he sang about that black-tie affair, those social graces, the ivory tower.

What does it mean to understand a song? How do you sing something and really, truly mean it?

–

When I'm sixteen, my fun fact on the first day of school is that I listen to country music. When I go out with my friends, I wear ankle-length denim skirts and lacy blouses and tie my hair in twin ponytails. I beg and beg them to listen to Loretta, to Dolly, to Patsy. In response, they buy me a Cowboy of the Month calendar and save me in their phones as "the horse girl". In one inexplicable picture that we've since lost, I've got my face in my hands, trying to hide my laughter, as my friends gleefully blast a Fox News clip about Randy Travis' drunken escapades.

So maybe my taste in music is the most interesting thing about me. What else is there? I'm not very pretty, only sometimes funny, and, to my eternal embarrassment, not good at all at being Asian. If I was smarter– fine, if I was Alex, Alex with his books and essays and critical theory– I might say that I do everything I do because I don't want to be the whitest girl in a room full of Asians (lame, boring, suck-up) but the most interesting thing in a room full of white people (exotic, rare, unique). A geisha girl, dressed in Oriental style.

Even so, I don't like to think that that's all there is to it. You can shrink the world down to words on a page, map out the complicated intersections of nations and culture and war that make up the popular imagination of America, call it pentatonic scales, the mixolydian mode. Of course there's value in that, I know– but all that stuff's a foreign language to me. You can try to explain why music sounds the way it does, but in the end you just have to hear it for yourself.

–

For a genre obsessed with authenticity, modern country music's chock-full of performers: Toby Keith singing We'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way, Hardy singing My small town is smaller than yours, Jason Aldean singing, I sit back and think about them good ol' days / The way we were raised and our southern ways.

A geisha's a performer, too, in a way. She trains her whole life to sing, to dance, to entertain. In yet another adaptation of Madama Butterfly, David Henry Hwang's play M. Butterfly, a Communist actor seduces a French man by pretending to be a woman for years. When the actor's finally caught, he's asked how he got away with it. He responds: Because when he finally met his fantasy woman, he wanted more than anything to believe that she was, in fact, a woman.

Don't tell this to anyone else, but when I curl my hair and put on lip-gloss and toddle around in heels, wondering if Alex would like what he sees, I feel like I'm a walking caricature in the shape of a girl. When I’m online with him I simper, I preen, I ask stupid questions just to keep him talking to me– and he likes it, or at least I really hope he does. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wonder what'll happen if I stop performing. I wonder if there’s anything left of me below the performance.

I used to worry that I fell in love with something that doesn't exist: the myth of America, the barbeques and the cornfields and the porches, the honky-tonk and the church social and the choir all singing, the cowboys on their vast, empty ranches. A place that's already gone, or else never existed at all– but what does that matter? An unreal place for an unreal girl. If everyone's performing, then no one is.

–

How much of this is true, then?

It's true as backroads and cold beer and pickup trucks. True as private jets and cowboy hats and exaggerated drawls. True as Nashville and Wallen and the CMAs. Which is to say, it's as true a story as you want it to be.

–

Tell the home folks that I'm happy, with someone that's true I know

I love a pretty geisha girl where the ocean breezes blow

–

In the months around my eighteenth birthday, my parents start screaming at each other. Suffice to say, they never really stop. I take up temporary residence in the school library instead, and spend my afternoons staring at maths textbooks while regretting every decision I’ve ever made. My exams are drawing closer. I’m sure I’ll fail them. It doesn’t feel real. Nothing does. I can’t bring myself to look at my future, I can’t, and yet like the long black train / coming down the line I know what’s going to happen when it hits me, and I know, I know– it’s not gonna be good. I start learning how to fall asleep to the background noise of things getting thrown. When my friends come over to study, they call the house beautiful. I guess it is.

On the way back from school, pressed into a corner of a sardine-packed bus, I put one earphone in and watch the sunset fall over the expressway, the heat turning the sky a gorgeous, deadly pink. Loretta Lynn sings: Well, I look out the window and what do I see? / The breeze is a-blowing the leaves from the trees / Everything is free, everything but me. The Chicks sing: She needs wide open spaces / Room to make her big mistakes. John Prine sings: Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery / make me a poster of an old rodeo / Just give me one thing that I can hold on to / To believe in this livin' is just a hard way to go.

Meanwhile, in my headphones, a thousand different stories unfold, familiar missives from some far-off place: a son buries his parents. A wife kills her husband. Two childhood friends fall in love. A girl convinces her father to let her marry her boyfriend. A woman pins a runaway to a motel wall. Somebody calls his ex, even though he shouldn’t. A mother sells her daughter to an older man. A traveller gets on a train. The unfamiliar place names rush past. Amarillo, Charleston, Jackson, Cheyenne, Chattahoochee: evidence of an existence outside of calculus and grammar and pushing my desk against my door to block it. In my head I picture as if through a window some wide, sprawling prairie, some open starry sky, and think of Mary Oliver – so this is the world. I’m not in it. It’s beautiful.

–

(Meanwhile, online: it’s a different story.)

–

If it was a breakup, would it have been better? There's no shortage of breakup songs in country music, after all. Like, What right does she have to take you away / when for so long, you were mine? Like, I'm crazy for loving you / Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you Like, Nothing much for us to say / One last goodbye and you drove away.

Instead, it’s the stupidest, most mundane of reasons: we just stop talking. I couldn’t tell you exactly why. For me, I’m wrapped up in exams, family stuff, a clown car full of childhood friends crashing their way back into my life without warning; for him, he’s busy at Harvard, busy with his new friends and new projects and new–

Okay. Fine. His new girlfriend.

I can’t blame him. I don’t have any right to. I still don’t know whether I actually loved him or I was just sixteen, lonely and looking to write myself into a song. Still, after I learn that he’s dating her, I fall into a haze of social-media stalking: I scroll through their Instagrams, their Twitters, anything that’ll tell me more about who he was, who they are. She’s cute, I’ll give her that, and they’re cute together, the kind of forever and ever, amen couple whose profiles are full of heart-shaped chocolates, of candid kisses and in-jokes I’ll never get to hear.

(A love song with no meaning. A language you don't speak.)

For weeks and weeks on end I dream of him, but the really funny thing is that even in these dreams he’s nothing but a spectre: texting me, calling me, writing long-winded letters in the mail. The closest I ever get is this dream where I’m walking through his hometown, the one I looked up in Google Earth in a fit of desperation. It’s just like I thought it would be, every house gorgeous and stately and ancient, the trees barren but still grand. My hometown’s always been warm. It’s the one thing I have in common with the people in the songs, that overwhelmingly oppressive heat, the kind that sucks all the energy out of your bones. Even though Alex lives at the edge of America, Stephen King and sweaters country, in the dream it’s not cold at all– Georgia hot, hometown hot. As I run from house to house, ringing every doorbell, the roads seem to stretch out beneath my feet until the next door seems oceans and continents away. Nobody’s home. Nobody’s there. In the dream, I’m not surprised.

Sometimes I worry that everything I love is already gone, but I guess I knew that already. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love it.

–

When I'm eighteen, my parents spend a small fortune on a family holiday to America, some last-ditch effort at holding the household together. I miss most of it, however, because the moment I step off the plane I come down with the worst cold I've ever had in my life. Thankfully, during the last couple of days I begin to feel a little bit more like a human being and not just a collection of symptoms, so I manage to go down with my family to the shore.

Maybe it's the ghost of the fever coming back to haunt me, or maybe it's just December, but the beach is bitingly cold, the evening light only just poking through the clouds. Standing there, I find myself thinking– predictably– of Alex. We haven't talked in months, at this point: the last thing I texted him was im in the us lol to which he responded Haha enjoy, and that's about it.

On some other shore, so far away we might still be in different countries, Alex is at Harvard writing essays about America– learning how to understand it, how to shape it, how to make it somewhere he can love without reservation. But I'm not him. I know, now, that I know nothing at all about America: not the blue and far-off one in my songs. but the real place, full of contradictions, land of guns and welfare and Walmart and the Free.

I keep going back to what Alex asked me when I was fifteen, when we barely knew each other: so why do you like country music? And it's only here, now, freezing in a down jacket on the California coast, that I finally have an answer for him.

I think: because every good country song is a love song in its own way.

I think: because country music is the only thing I've ever known how to love.

I think: I have stood and watched the sun rise from the waters of the sea / and I've wondered how much beauty in this cruel world can there be / My dreams are all worth dreaming and it makes my life worthwhile / to see my pretty geisha girl dressed in oriental style.

I think: does there really need to be a reason, A?

From somewhere behind me, I hear someone call my name. I turn. It's my mother yelling: “Come back to the car! It's getting cold!”

“Coming!” I yell back, and run to her.

–

Before I have to go back home, I manage to get my hands on a Shania Twain t-shirt, which honestly makes the entire trip worth it.

#just posting for archive purposes #hi william if youre reading this #writing

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rodeoxqueen · 1 year

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Shi No Te: The Tale Red Like The Scarab and The Sheath of The Cursed Blade.

Vergil/Reader

Part one.

A long-kept draft I've had for years.

Summary: Once upon a dark time, you were the Huntress. The years haven't forgotten the whisper of your name, yet your son is the new name in the underworld. It's like the old saying goes "the planets are like families, everything revolved around the 'sun.'" However, there are many stories before you became the mother of Nero. This is one of them.

Tags: Uncompleted work, Reader goes to Japan, Mercenary work, Explicit violence, Nero's Mother OC origins.

When you had woken up all those weeks ago to find the bed empty, you had already known. You knew Vergil was going to leave, and that you were not enough to make him stay. So you did what any normal woman did: you cried, ate an inhuman amount of ice cream, and then raised hell for the demons of the underworld for weeks.

When different brokers and clients had found you, they were surprised to see you already strapped with weapons and ready to go. This was routine for some time since you left Fortuna. You stopped taking vacations for some time, opting for the open road on your motorcycle in your down time.

So imagine your surprise the day a broker, Edvard Adams, called you asking for your services in Japan. You had already begun putting your weapons back on, the phone on speaker. The world’s thickest British accent greeted your ears.

“We got a detective from Shibuya asking for the best of the best for this one.”

“Don’t they have their own demon hunting services.” You rustled through your drawer, colorful clothes haphazardly tucked to the side.

“Every single Japanese priest in Shibuya can’t figure out how to exorcize the damn thing. Too scared to approach it.” Edvard took a puff of his cigar.

“So they’re asking for some foreign aid. It’s making a mockery of the police force. They can’t keep stalling, only one person has survived from last week. They’re worried it’ll come and kill again.”

“How much?”

“15,000 for showing up, even more once you kill the scary bastard.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes. The plane’s ready whenever.”

“Transfer me the money and consider it dead.” Edvard laughed through the phone, amused at the industry’s most notorious hunter. Gorgeous, capable, and sassy. Too bad you were scary as hell.

“Sayonara, Huntress.”

“Shut up.”

Hiro Watanabe didn’t know what to do when the esteemed best of the best came to Shibuya twelve hours later. The demon had already torn through all but one of the Bito family members, injuring many hunters. The priests were too afraid to get too close without the help of semi-automatic weapons, which also did not affect the demon. After years of dealing with humans, this was their first demonic incident. He was clueless. They needed someone to fix this. Luckily he got a call back from that broker in America, who spoke only in horribly informal Japanese, saying that the hunter was already on the way over.

“Are you sure he can kill the demon?” Edvard barked out a harsh laugh. He’d let the Japanese man learn the hard way.

“Your priests pray to god to slay demons. This hunter kills God for breakfast.” Edvard jabbed his fingers holding the cigar, emphasizing every word.

“Pleasure to be of service, Watanabe. Although I must warn you-”

“-This hunter doesn’t play the game by the rules.” The line hung up.

“A demon hunter from America. Things are really getting bizarre.” Hiro said to himself. Shiro Mizaki, the chief of police, would kill him if this didn’t work. Other politicians and the general public feared for the worst. The police department was going to lose their heads if the problem grew any larger.

The girl in custody, Bito Saki, was glumly sitting in solitary confinement, the room warded by countless spells and wards to stop the beast. She refused to talk regardless of the severity of the situation. At this point if the kid died Hiro’s career would go straight to the trash.

Hiro sat in his office, hoping and thinking. A cigarette laid on his lips and he had already gone through half a pack.

“Watanabe-san? The foreigner has arrived.” A female officer announced at his door. Hiro got up abruptly, prepared to deal with some ignorant American who might just fix the problem.

“Alright. Send him here.”

“She already left for the market district. She said she was ‘going to get some real food.’” The officer said, hand on her hip. Hiro swore and grabbed his coat.

“That damn broker.”

“So, you are the best hunter they have?”

You leaned against the wall to the convenience store and ate your sandwich. Hiro was on his second box of cigarettes. You were dressed like an assassin alright, with empty leather gun holsters and heavy combat boots. Too bad you stuck out like a sore thumb and had the locals staring at you. Hiro decided it was best to fill the empty air, hoping to catch the foreigner’s attention.

“You seem rather relaxed and informal of this situation, but it is quite severe. We’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The girl lived hours away from here, we took her here in hopes the demon would not find her.”

“No priest in that area can stop the demon with their best spells and incantations.” You hummed while putting a few yen coins into a vending machine and clicking a few random buttons. A drink plopped out with a metallic clang and you cracked open the tab.

Hiro waited for this strange foreigner to finish her drink. You reached the bottom of the beverage and sighed. Mischievous eyes met his own serious ones.

“You talk too much.” Hiro gritted his jaw. Ignorant American indeed.

You threw the can into the recycling bin several feet behind you, perfectly aimed. You took your duffel bag, heaving it over your shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

In the interrogation room, there she was, splattered with blood and a dead look in her eyes.

“Is she possessed? Why is she trapped in here?”

“We assumed the demon would not come for her with our best sigils and protective seals.”

“That’s useless. Only ghosts are bound by holy rituals .” You blurted, shifting your bag’s strap on your shoulder.

“The priests said it should work.”

“Well, they’re wrong.”

You whistled at one of the cops near you.

“File.” You ordered.

Holding the papers describing the recent crimes, you shoved various items on the desk aside.

You gestured to the graphic pictures from the forensics.

“Tell me what happened.”

“The Bito household had an alarm go off a few minutes after midnight two days ago. The

“Why was she spared? The demon could kill her at any time.”

“The only way she could have survived is because she’s not quite related to the rest of them.” You pointed to the girl.

“How do you know?”

“I’m the best of the best.” Suddenly, the girl got up.

“Why is this foreigner helping?! Are you so incapable?”

You looked up. Hiro pressed the comm button, speaking into the mic.

“Bito-chan! Don’t be-” You yanked the mic to your mouth.

“This foreigner is paid to keep you alive.” You said in perfect Japanese. Hiro had been scrambling to learn English before you came, and you spoke his language perfectly?!

“You speak Japanese?”

“I figured it out on the way here.” The girl looked at you with shock and indignance, huffing as she sat back down.

By the time everyone had left and it was Hiro, Bito Saki, and you.

“How will you kill this demon?”

“With my hands.”

Hiro sighed.

“These victims were home when it happened. With what you gave me, the other relatives were murdered prior. Those were unsolved murders.” You said, gesturing to the papers and pictures.

“Yes. That is true. That is why we were prepared to get the girl out of that situation as soon as possible.”

You shuffled a few photos, eyes scanning the evidence pages.

“This family was ready for this to happen to them. It explains the Shinto decorations and the reinforced security.”

“The Bito family used to be politically active and wealthy, a decade ago. Unfortunately, they have not been as glorious as before, despite Bito Kenji’s efforts.” You stared at the picture of the disemboweled man. He had been gouged from neck to groin, his organs all for the world to see.

“Her father.” Hiro nodded.

“Where’s her mother’s body?” The tall and broad-shouldered Japanese man glanced at Bito Saki, who sat in the interrogation room, knees pulled to her chest and head down.

What horrors had she seen?

“ …...”

“Where’s her body?” You asked again.

“Bito Kaori had been found dismembered in her own room. She was the first to pass away.”

“...”

“Why do you wish to know so much about the case?”

“I am a huntress, not some brainless exterminator.”

You walked into the convenience store as if you were a normal customer and not a deadly demon huntress who just kidnapped a girl in police custody.

“Get whatever you want.”

There were a few stragglers left in the store, ignorant to your intrusion. Bito took out a few packages of onigiri and her favorite soda.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she was just forcefully taken out of custody, she looked like a normal school girl going for a midnight snack.

She looked into the anti-theft mirror, ruffling her hair. Ruler straight bangs above her brow and her locks down to her shoulders, her hair was mussed up from everything. She sighed.

“What is happening?” She wondered.

A soft thump and a heavy roll of soft fabric hit her back. Bito jolted and picked up a black hoodie off the ground.

“Put it on. You weren’t wearing enough in that room.” The huntress had abandoned her previous outfit, sticking it into her duffel bag. Instead, Bito was staring eye-to-eye with some tourist looking woman with a white shirt stating “I Love Japan” and baggy jeans. Why?

Bito came to the checkout with you. You handed the exact change to the cashier. A slip of paper fell to the counter, your gloved hand quick to snatch it back into your wallet. The older female clerk looked at you strangely but paid no further mind.

The two of you left the store, Bito quickly putting on the gigantic hoodie on. She was practically drowning in the sweatshirt, the main pocket to her thighs.

“Now, let’s go.” Bito followed but she soon realized you were taking a different route than before.

“Wait! This isn’t the way back to the station.” You didn’t answer, walking away and leaving the poor girl taking rather large strides to catch up.

It was when you had gone down the stairs to the Shibuya subway station had Bito realized something was going terribly wrong.

‘W-wait! Where are you taking me?” She tried to back away from you, refusing to take a step down the stairs.

“Do you want me to fix your problem or not?” You shot back, still not even looking at her.

“I-I’m going back!” Bito threatened, seeing how dark the streets had become.

“Alright, have the stupid policemen keep you in that room until the demon finds you again on the next seventh sunrise. Maybe you’ll look better in red than in black.” Bito gulped, her blood running cold. You continued stepping down the stairs.

“What seventh sunrise?! What does the sun have to do with anything?”

What a noisy little piece of bait.

You felt her presence next to you, huffing.

“What do you know?” You checked the handout the station gave out, seeing there was a few hour trip to where you were headed.

“Let’s just say I know more than you need to hear.” Bito gave up with you.

So there you were, sitting in a nearly vacant subway train with the little teenager curled up on the seat.

What a vacation this turned out to be. Maybe you could see the sights.

To be continued

Notes: This is a very old and rushed work. It's been years since i revisited it. Why not post? I'll always have time to fill in the details.

#vergil x reader #dmc #devil may cry #nero's mother #vergil sparda x reader #devil may cry x reader #nero #devil may cry imagines

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