foreigner darling crying while desperately typing into their phone because they don’t any japanese or english, etc. 1) their yandere is a bastard and fucking with them, fully knowing they don’t know the language. 2) the yandere is also struggling and they a dictionary that’s highlighted with translations. 3) the yandere didn’t think this one through and is now acting as if they knew about the barrier. - garfield anon (hello!)
(1) jouno thinks it's funny. here you were, clearly confused and trying your best to communicate with him, but apart from sobs and pleadings of 'please let me go', he can hardly make out your other words. it didn't matter, anyway. this was fine too, you just had to calm down before he could set down some ground rules. he also finds it hilarious when he's talking to you in japanese, knowing you don't understand a single thing, threatening to kill you or your loved ones or telling you about how long he's been watching you and you're just staring at him wide-eyed; isn't that expression far too cute for this?
(1) fyodor wishes you didn't cry so much. if he wanted you to cry in the corner, your phone long abandoned after he had only laughed at your pathetic attempts at trying to talk to him, then he could have done a hundred other things apart from bringing you to a nice room and taking care of you. he understands everything you're saying, of course, but still pretends not to, cocking his head to the side when you ask him why he's done this and glaring at you when you ask his name. it was a little amusing to see you second guess your every word and try to recall any words from any language you knew. only after a month of captivity, when you start, on the brink of losing your mind, telling him about your name and likes and dislikes, he smiles at you, and says "i know", clear as day. the shock on your face is his favorite expression yet.
(2) so maybe chuuya overestimated his linguistic abilities. it was fine! he had dictionaries and the internet just for this. he gets by using the resources on hand, and you're surprisingly pretty well receptive to his attempts, and even point out the words you're saying when he doesn't understand you. things were going a lot better than he thought, until one day you ask him if he can please help you escape and that he can come with you so whoever hired him won't hurt him, you promise to help, and he realizes you had no idea just why you were here. he does consider telling you the truth, but it was a lot nicer to have you trust him and stick by him, so ultimately he decides that can wait. for now, he'll go along with your silly idea.
(2) dazai thought he had all the important words covered, but now you're screaming at him so loudly that he can't comprehend a single word coming out of your mouth. he offers you the dictionary and a pencil, clearly telling you to please circle the words you're using but instead, you throw it back at him and scream some more. not knowing what else to do, he starts speaking to you in gibberish. it works, almost, because you go eerily quiet to listen to him before going back to screaming and throwing things at him (because now it sounds like he's mocking you). oh well, time to sign up for those classes!
(3) nikolai didn't think it'd be this hard to get the message across. surely, using his overcoat to transport you here was enough for you to understand that this was a kidnapping? well, he didn't understand what you were saying either, but he was mostly sure that you said the words 'money', 'who' and 'why' at least thrice now. living together when neither of you understood the other couldn't be that bad, right? he uses pictures of an amusement park and a handy app to ask you if you'd like to go out and that he will drag you back screaming if you tried to run, and the horror on your face is all he needs to know you understood him clear as day. see, not that hard!
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My brain does weird things. Anyways, I think Love would steal Liebling’s seed (assuming she didn’t throw it out) and plant it for her. That just seems like a very Love thing to do.
This is really dubiously canon... Love had sticky fingers and her luck finally runs out, or does it?
You stare at the sprout pushing its way out of the dirt in your little terracotta pot. You spritz it with water, and watch the leaves curl happily. Like fingers.
"Hey Si?" You call over your shoulder. You've made some... well you hesitate to call them bad, but questionable decisions in your life. Usually your luck carries you through, but you think it may be running out on this particular gamble.
Simon hums from the couch, half listening as he sketches the monarch wing you'd found into your journal. You don't know if this is really worth his attention. You don't really know what it is. You sort of... stole it.
"Is it stealing if it was technically trash?" You ask, without really thinking. Simon's sketching stops, and he turns to look over the back of the couch.
"What did you steal?"
"Weird seed the bestie didn't want." You poke one of the leaves, letting it wrap around your finger. That gets Simon's attention. He's quick to get off the couch and over to you, pulling your finger out of the plant's grip.
"Christ Love, is that what you've been nursing all week?" Simon looks over your hand with concern, you nod until he kisses your palm giving it the all clear.
"What is it?" You poke Simon's cheek to get your hand back. He lets you go to pick up the pot and inspect the new growth.
"No clue," he tells you, "did, uh- shit-"
"Lieb."
"Works well enough," Simon pokes at the plant, watching the leaves move, "Did she tell you want it was?" You shake your head. He pinches a leaf between his fingers, inspecting it. "Doesn't look dangerous."
"Then I'll keep watering it." Simon shakes his head but settled the pot back on the windowsill.
"We'll keep an eye on it."
"We?" Simon flashes you half a smile, you return it in full force, "I love when we do stupid stuff together."
-
You don't know how long it's supposed to take flowers to grow, or even how they're supposed to grow, but it feels like this is going really weird.
You stare at the giant flower bud that's blossomed in your little terracotta pot. It sort of reminds you of a cabbage. It feels like a rose when you pet it, the petals under your fingers silky and soft. You don't know quite what to do with it. Simon sets a cup of tea next to your head where you're resting it against the windowsill.
"Looking good Love," You hum at the kiss he presses against the top of your head, "How's the cabbage?"
"She's fine, still overgrown and weird." You sit up, grabbing your mug and letting Simon take over the daily plant inspection.
"Doesn't look deadly yet."
"Yet."
"Yet," he agrees. You both sip your morning cup and stare at your poor decision making skills.
"You haven't put any magic in it to make it big." You confirm for the thousandth time.
"Not a drop, gardener must've dreamt this up." He reminds you, also for the thousandth time.
"Maybe we can enter it in a gardening fair or-"
Simon yanks you away from the bud as the petals quiver and bloom. You're very quickly put behind your very tense partner, forced to look around him at whatever is going on. You've never seen a flower open up that fast, but you think gravity must be doing the lions share of work. The actual rose is huge, far bigger than the bud would've suggested, and heavy enough to finally break the little pot it had been growing in.
Simon is faster than you, grabbing the flower as it's weight causes it to tumble off the windowsill. You tense, your breath caught as you wait for him to do anything, move any muscle.
"What? What is it?" You whisper after too long a moment without a breath.
"I don't-" He mumbles, catching the end of his sentence behind his teeth so he can curse, "Shit."
You peak over his shoulder, hoping you won't see your weird plant smashed to bits. Instead you stare down at a baby. The smallest thing you've ever seen cradled gently in Simon's arms, blinking big brown eyes and white lashes up at both of you. Your heart swells.
"Holy shit," you breath, watching it yawn and wiggle in its rose petal wrap. It's perfect little nose scrunches with the motion and you need a second to adjust to how cute that is. "Did we do that?" You press closer against Simon's back, and reach to stroke your fingers over the downy hair on the baby's head, "I mean she's got your eyes, it's gotta be-"
"I don't know," Simon mumbles.
"Well what are we supposed to-"
"I don't know!" He snaps, and you finally look at him. At the absolutely confusion and concern dripping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. You've never seen him cry before, well not like this at least.
"Give her to me," You tell him, sitting back and holding your arms out, he looks unsure. "Please Simon," you soften the ask, pulling a tether so he knows you're sure. He's so careful, if a little clumsy. You have to adjust his hold as he's passing the infant to you and it seems like he's watching the way you shift her in your arms for his own reference later. You hold the baby close against your chest, feeling that strange comfortable purr rise in your throat as she blinks her big eyes closed.
"What the fuck do we do?" Simon whisper yells at you.
"Call Soap right the fuck now and text Lieb that I'm gonna fucking kill her," you coo at the dozing baby in your arms. Simon nod and scrambles to find both your phones.
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seen someone say it but it’s so poignant that izzy spends the entirety of episode 4 lashing out, screaming at the ship and at his own reflection. his anger and frustration comes out violently and he puts no effort into filtering it. he’s a drunk mess and doesn’t care to stifle his anger, if he even could. he’s used to feeling hurt and then lashing out. it’s normal for him to be hit and then go hit someone else about it. it’s normal for him to feel like shit and then go shout at someone about it. he can do that blackout drunk, and doesn’t even need another person around to do it
but when he’s gifted the leg, and suddenly given something to be actively happy about, he has to stifle his reaction. he suddenly has to choke back his emotion, and the words don’t even form. he can only shake and cry and keep himself as hushed as possible, literally clamping down with his hand to keep them restrained
anger is something he’s comfortable displaying even when intoxicated. but, even when intoxicated, bittersweet tears are something he feels he needs to literally hold in. anger is acceptable, anger is normal, anger is something he knows how to deal with. feelings of camaraderie, the sting of love like alcohol in a wound— he doesn’t know how to deal with it, nor is he comfortable sitting with it. it’s never been something he was allowed to embrace, and it’s still not something he even knows how to
sorta like if you keep getting hurt, your skin will scab and callous and you’ll get used to the feeling of that pain. it becomes normal and your body adapts to become tougher and more resilient. only problem with knowing how to power through wounds like that is that when it’s time to clean them, to wash them with alcohol to disinfect, it stings like something you’ve never felt. something deeper and sharper that your skin isn’t used to, something actively counteracting the way your body has adapted to repeated offenses. once you’ve felt enough scratches in your skin, the alcohol of healing hurts worse than yet another countless scratch
my poor guy has never ever healed from anything that’s happened to him, he’s always just powered through and calloused himself for the sake of efficiency. only realizing now that you can only power through with dirty open wounds so long before they start to fester and rot. poor guy doesn’t even know what healing feels like and he’s never been allowed to know. any previous attempts might’ve earned him “fuckin’ lightweight” and “if you can’t do it, someone else will” so even healing feels like something he has to stifle and keep quiet
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