#he MIGHT beat reigen maybe

[championsofmyheart]

i really dont think hell win next round against sans reigen or the onceler we had a good run gang i just needed to see him beat the twinks ass

[stupidlittlespirit]

First Kiss

Rating: SFW, fluff Type: Drabble Tags: first kisses, alcohol, making out, no use of pronouns for reader, reader is wearing a skirt, slight Serizawa x reader, vague mention of vomit (nothing overtly descriptive), jealousy Word count: 4363 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Reigen gets drunk, jealous and kissed.

(This has been in my drafts since January and I figured you guys might like it :) )

Staff parties are just the worst. 

Well, they're the best, but for all the wrong reasons: They’re noisy and messy, and you get an excuse to spend time with handsome men under the guise of simply being colleagues.

You're exceptionally drunk, perched beside your team in a rowdy bar as you watch them misbehave.

Serizawa is flushed a happy pink, tipsy but still managing to keep himself together. Dimple, possessing his favoured security guard for the night, is plastered against Serizawa's side. Reigen, however, is much worse for wear. He's slumped over the table as Serizawa is speaking, eyes half-lidded and likely not paying attention. 

Wait. Serizawa is speaking. 

"-maybe that's why? I guess I just never tried..." He’s saying, a little forlorn but soft as always.

You shake your head and shuffle up in your seat, leaning over to nudge Reigen.  "What's he talking about?" You hiss, hoping you don't make it obvious. 

Reigen shrugs sloppily, his shoulder bumping yours as he lurches. "Dunno." 

"Dimple said Mob was talking about first kisses this morning," Says Serizawa, shifting in his seat to address you directly. He doesn’t look upset at your poor listening skills, more amused.

Clearly you weren't being subtle enough. 

"Then he asked if I'd had one, and I haven't. I’d like to, though.” He shrugs. “Maybe one day.”

Now that you're caught up, you gape at Serizawa. 

"So you've never been kissed?" You ask, leaning forward. "Like, at all?" 

He shakes his head but doesn't look bothered at all. It's more like he's stating a fact, but it makes you feel a little bad for him. 

Reigen laughs uproariously. "Never been kissed?!" He claps Serizawa on his shoulder from across the table. "That's gotta suck!" 

"I guess you can relate." Dimple smirks from behind the lip of his beer bottle. 

Reigen almost inhales his cocktail through his nose and you have to beat his back to stop him from choking to death. 

"N-not at all!" He cries, desperately waving his hands around. "I've kissed plenty of people in my life-" 

"I'll kiss you." You cut in, making Reigen choke again. “If you want one, that is.”

Serizawa turns even pinker and he looks over at you shyly. "R-right now?" He squeaks. “Here?”

"Sure." You shrug.

It feels bad knowing Serizawa has never experienced the joys of kissing someone, and you want to offer the chance in a comfortable setting. 

Serizawa looks excited and adorably bashful when he nods in agreement.

You’re a little surprised he’s bold enough to take you up on the offer, but you suppose with a few drinks in him, he’s braver than he might usually be in a social setting. 

Untangling yourself from your seat, you swap sides at the table to sit next to him, bumping Dimple with your hip until he acquiesces and moves to your seat.

Meanwhile, Reigen makes his grievances known. 

"This is so unprofessional-" He starts, brows furrowing.

"Yeah? What do you know about being a professional?" Dimple snips back, watching you and Serizawa closely. "Let the kid learn!" 

"You would say that, pervert." Reigen slurs. “And I’m always professional.”

Ignoring their bickering, you place Serizawa's hands where they need to be; one on the side of your face, and the other on your waist, and roll your shoulders back as though you’re preparing for some strenuous exercise. A first kiss is serious business and it wouldn’t be beneficial to him to fuck it up. You want Serizawa to relax, to learn that these things aren’t as scary as they might seem, so that when he does find someone he wants to try it with again, he won’t freeze up and ruin his own chances. From what you’re seen, Serizawa is pretty skilled at that. 

Beet red and wide eyed, Serizawa’s gaze darts all over your face, from your own eyes to your mouth and back again. He’s evidently already overthinking this.

"A-are you sure you're okay with this?" Serizawa asks, voice cracking.  

You nod feverishly.

Serizawa is very handsome and very cute, so it's hardly a chore to indulge him in the art of making out. 

You lean into his palm with a warm, encouraging smile, and dip your head until your lips meet his. 

Someone at the table makes a small, high pitched noise but you're not sure if it's Serizawa or one of the others.

The kiss is simple; you don't want to frighten him by adding anything too complex, yet he's eager and surprisingly natural in his movements.

Serizawa makes a content little noise and leans into you, hand tightening on your waist to pull you closer. He tastes like cheap beer and buttery edamame, a whisper of sweetness amongst the heavy alcohol. 

Much to your pleasant surprise, his lips part after a moment and you gently tease him into a slightly deeper kiss. 

Serizawa seems to be enjoying himself and you're happy to indulge him if he wants to try something more. 

When you pull away, you drag your teeth across his lower lip gently and he smiles, hazy, chasing your mouth with his own for a moment.

Dimple lets out a low whistle from across the table and leans forward on the table, chin propped in his hands as he watches with rapt attention. 

You break apart with a soft smack! and Serizawa looks over at you like you've punched him in the nose. He's dazed and his gaze is totally unfocused, but there's a little smile on his face and it’s clear that he’s quite happy with his demonstration. 

"Okay?" You ask quietly, face still close to his. 

Serizawa nods slowly. “Uh huh….”

You grin, squeezing his shoulder as he releases you, and you stand from your stolen seat to go back to your own. 

"There you go, it isn’t that exciting, really, but now you know." You shrug. 

Dimple laughs, elbowing Reigen in the ribs as he gets up. 

"Seems pretty excited to me!" He smirks.

You give him a good-natured shove on the way past before you drop back down next to Reigen. 

Now that your focus is back on the room at large, you notice that your boss looks like he's going through all five stages of grief simultaneously; Reigen is clutching his drink tight, gaze fixed on the table top with his jaw set tightly shut. He barely acknowledges you when you sit down again, looking like he's ready to burst at the seams.

"Are you okay?" You ask, giving him a gentle nudge with your shoulder. "If you're gonna puke, you better do it outside." 

Reigen glances at you from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t look pleased at all and you feel like you might have just made a mistake.

"'M gonna go get some air." He mutters finally, sliding out of his seat.

Reigen snatches up the half-empty box of cigarettes on the table and stumbles unsteadily off his stool without another word. He doesn't even have the grace to make up an excuse before he leaves.

You watch him go, hesitant to follow him. 

“What's his problem?” Dimple says, rolling his eyes. “He’s been so stuck up lately.”

It’s true; for the past week in particular, Reigen has been in a sour mood. 

The first time it had been noticeable was the Monday morning you’d worn your first skirt of the summer to the office. It had been hot and stuffy, and you weren’t about to bother with cloying tights or trousers, however Reigen had taken one look at you and gone to work in the spare room until lunchtime. He’d made a few quiet comments about dressing professionally as a woman until Dimple had told him that he’d wear the same thing if Reigen didn’t stop bothering you about it. Since then, he’d done nothing but sulk and avoid you.  

The general chatter amongst the three of you returns, until a few minutes of his absence turn into twenty, and eventually you realise you're going to have to go and fetch him. He’s either grouchy again or he’s passed out somewhere and aspirated on his own vomit, and neither seem like a pleasant end to an otherwise fun night.

You excuse yourself and pick your way through the throngs of suits until you reach the exit at the front of the bar. 

It takes a few seconds of scanning until you spot Reigen, bathed in the flickering light of the bar’s sign. His grey suit reflects the ugly neons, marring it an odd blue-green, and he stands out against the dim street. He’s trapped behind the ropes of the smoking section nearby, halfway through his cigarette and staring off into the night sky.

Silently, you come to stand at his side. 

"How long does it take to smoke?" You laugh, hoping to ease the immediate tension he gives off. 

Reigen shrugs, running his tongue over his teeth. 

You frown at his unusual silence, slightly concerned that he can barely even bother to dein you with a simple 'hello'. 

"Have I upset you?" You ask gently. 

Reigen's eyes dart to you, though he stays facing forward, and he clears his throat. 

"No, I just…" He sighs around the filter of his cigarette, shaking his head. "It's nothing." 

To his right, there's an old looking bench that's clearly been shoved into the corner here for the drunkest smokers to sit at. It's probably to deter people from sitting on the floor when they're wasted and making the place look untidy.

You take a seat on it and gesture for him to sit beside you, running your hands over your arms to ward off the chill of the night. 

Reigen looks uncomfortable at your offer but does as he's told anyway. He keeps a distance from you and focuses on puffing out a crude smoke circle so that he doesn't have to look at you.

"Reigen, if I've done something to upset you then it's not nothing." You press him for more detail, shuffling up to sit closer. 

You don't care if he doesn't want to be near you, you're starting to panic that you might have ruined a friendship that's extraordinarily important to you.

Reigen is a great boss and an even better friend. He's smart and kind, and he's the most compassionate person you've ever met. For all of his faults, he's an incredible guy. 

It doesn't help that you're a little bit in love with him, of course. 

No one else in the office knows. You've kept it to yourself and tried to ignore it; the affection you hold for him is inappropriate after all. He's your boss and if you were to confess, he'd only reject you on those grounds. You'd end up losing your job and your friends, and you can't stand the thought of that happening. It's better to just ignore it and admire him from afar.

At your side, Reigen sighs quietly and takes a long drag on his cigarette. He holds his breath for a moment and you can see the cogs in his mind turn as he weighs up if it's worth telling you. After a pause, he breathes out a long puff of smoke and flicks the ash from the end of it. The cherry glows red in the darkness.

"I'veneverbeenkissedeither." Reigen mumbles, ducking his head.

It comes out as a long string of words, barely understandable, and you frown. 

"Huh?" 

Reigen groans. His shoulders rise up around his ears and you realise that he's embarrassed about whatever he's trying to say. 

"I've never been kissed either." He repeats through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on the distance.

"Oh." You breathe.

Oh. 

He's not angry, he's jealous.

“But you said-”

“I lied.” He huffs. “Obviously.” 

Reigen looks mortified the moment he admits it aloud, his cheeks turning pinker than they had been inside. He sucks in a sharp breath and cringes away from you, humiliated.

"I'm sorry," he cringes. "That was dumb- I shouldn't have said anything, I was just-" 

"You're kidding, right?" You say, unable to keep the disbelief from your voice. 

Reigen rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, hanging his head as though he's ashamed by it. "No." He mutters.

You're genuinely a bit surprised. "Oh, I just figured…." 

"Figured what?" Reigen says, a little bitter. "That people would actually like me?" 

The way he says it makes your heart bleed. 

Reigen is quite the charmer. You had assumed he'd be very popular in terms of romantic partners. Sure, he's a little caustic at times but ultimately he's a good guy and had you been strangers, you certainly would have tried your luck with him. There's no reason that you can think of that anyone would turn him down, unless he’s the one getting in his own way.

"Reigen, don't be ridiculous." You laugh softly, leaning into his side. "Of course people like you. I like you! You're funny and sweet, and handsome and nice. Anyone would be lucky to have you." 

Immediately Reigen's head shoots up and he turns to look at you, face slack with surprise.

"You think I'm handsome?" He asks, his cigarette limp and bobbing about between his lips as he speaks.

Fuck.

The drink has made you slip up. It's probably not normal to tell your boss you think he's the best thing since sliced bread and you feel a heat crawl up your throat.  Now really isn't the time. You're both wasted in a public place, far from home and with other people, it's not an ideal place to confess to your boss how much you desperately want him. 

"Reigen, listen," you say, attempting to laugh off the accidental admission. "You're a catch!" 

You offer him a weak smile and tug on his tie gently. It's supposed to be annoying, but drunk as he is, Reigen leans into you instead. 

"I am?" He says faintly.

The warmth spreads from your neck to your cheeks and you're abruptly aware of how close his face is to yours. The cigarette's smoke wafts up between you both.

"Yeah." You shrug, attempting to sound nonchalant. "Of course." 

Reigen's dark eyes search yours for a moment, like he's waiting for you to say something else.

When all you do is offer him a tight smile, afraid that you've fucked up, he wrinkles his nose in annoyance. 

"Oh," Reigen says petulantly, smoke streaming from his nostrils. "So sweet little Serizawa gets a demonstration but I don't?" 

You struggle to keep the surprise from your expression. After his avoidance for the past week, whatever you expected him to say, it wasn’t that. 

You figure he must be annoyed at missing out.  

A moment of silence passes and then you tilt your head. "Do you.... Want a demonstration?" You ask curiously. 

Reigen glances away for a second, blatantly imagining the scenario in his mind. His eyebrows raise at whatever he's considering.

"I mean…. I might….?" He says finally, meeting your gaze again. 

There's a slightly hopeful look in his eyes and despite your shock at his interest, you bite down on an excited smile and shift on the bench to straddle the wood, facing him properly. 

His ability to charm you even at his most useless is quite something, you think, and you reach into the space between you both and pluck the dwindling cigarette from his lips.

Reigen makes a soft noise of interest and watches you stub it out in the ashtray. 

"Face me." You instruct him, gesturing with a finger to show him where you want him. 

Reigen does as he's told, a slave to your command in his drunken stupor, and swivels in his seat until his knees bump yours. He's so close that you can feel his body heat through your clothes and it makes you want to crawl inside his suit and stay there forever. 

"Put your hands on my waist." 

Reigen nods, swallowing thickly. "Yes ma'am." 

Something hot curls up inside you at his address. You hadn't ever imagined he might be the type to enjoy being bossed around, but you're very happy to work with it.

His warm hands take up your waist and once he's settled, you take a hold of his tie again and slowly ease him down, lower and lower, until you're half an inch from his face.

Reigen's breath smells like the sugary cocktails he's been knocking back all night and fresh cigarette smoke; you'd usually balk at such a scent, but something about it is distinctly.... Him. 

After months of yearning from afar, months of silent longing, you finally kiss him. 

Reigen's eyes flutter shut as your lips connect.  The tip of his nose is cold as it brushes your cheekbone, but his lips are warm and welcoming, and they part just enough for you to taste him.

Reigen gives a soft groan and leans forward a little more, pressing up as close as he can manage without dragging you into his lap. His hands tighten on your waist and he exhales through his nose, shaky and slow.

The kiss lasts for barely a few seconds. 

It's intended to be short and sweet, and then Reigen is dragging you closer again, chasing your mouth as Serizawa had barely an hour before, yet with far more need. His desperation to keep going is oddly attractive. 

This time, you risk the chance of overwhelming your subject. 

Reigen wants more and you're perfectly willing to give it to him. 

You lap at the seam of his lips until he parts them, slowly pressing your tongue to his. Reigen is clumsy and inexperienced, not as naturally graceful as Serizawa, but you do your best to guide him through, turning your head to accommodate him and deepening the kiss whilst he sighs and keens into your touch. 

One of his hands comes up from your waist to hold the side of your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone, while his other finds your thigh. 

Reigen works his fingers along the hem of your skirt until they just slip underneath the edge of the fabric, kneading the flesh there absentmindedly as he lets himself fall into you more.

You’re so caught up in the moment, all too happy to let him continue, that when the bar door swings open with a loud bang you almost jump out of your skin. It's an immediate reminder that you're still in public and the interruption is enough to make you pull away before things become even more heated.

Sitting back and attempting to catch your breath, you quickly glance over Reigen’s shoulder to check that no other patrons have caught the two of you in a compromising situation. Whoever it is doesn't seem to be interested in your activities, too busy clamouring with their friend about taxis and food as they leave.

When you turn back, Reigen looks like he's going to pass out; he's bright red but completely pale at the same time, breathing heavily and staring right through you.

Alarmed, you sit up straighter. "Are you-?" 

"I'm gonna be sick." Reigen chokes out, scrambling up from his seat like a fawn on ice.

You flinch away as he rushes to a bin on the far side of the smoking area. He barely makes it in time to vomit up whatever overpriced drinks he's had tonight, hunched over the top of the can as he coughs and splutters.

Gross as it is, you feel a bit bad for him. His hands are shaking where they clutch the edge of the bin and you go to his side, rubbing circles on his back while he gags. You smooth his hair back from his sweaty forehead and reach over to lift his tie and stop it from dangling into the unpleasant stream until he's done throwing up for all he’s worth. 

"Fuck." He gasps into the trash can, breathless and humiliated. "Fuck. I'm so sorry." 

After a few more minutes of retching, Reigen manages to choke out another weak apology and straightens up, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. He looks terrible; his hair is ruffled and his eyes are glazed, and you hate how sorry you feel for him. It’s horribly gross and if it was anyone else you’d have left them to suffer alone. Yet your empathy for Reigen seems to know no bounds. 

"Don't mention it." You say with a smile, smoothing his hair back. "Do you feel better, at least?" 

Reigen nods a little, sorry for himself. 

"That'll teach you for drinking on an empty stomach." You tease. "Make sure you remember that the sick part was your fault." 

Reigen flushes again and ducks his head, bashful. His colour is slowly returning and he looks less nauseated than he had.

A beat of awkward silence passes, filled only by the general chatter of the patrons leaving the bar behind you both, and Reigen clears his throat.

“Listen” he sighs, toeing the concrete with the edge of his shoe. “I’m sorry about just walking out earlier.”

You tilt your head a little, waiting for him to elaborate. 

"I didn't mean to get weird about it." He admits, still unable to meet your eyes. "I just…. The kiss…. I wanted it to be me, y’know?”

“What?” You say with a tiny, disbelieving laugh. “You’ve been ignoring me all week, I thought you hated me! I mean, for a second there, I thought you were gonna fire me for-”

“Fire you?!” Reigen says, a little too loudly. “Fuck, no! Never!”

“Then why have you been avoiding m-?”

"Because you're so pretty!" he interrupts, like it pains and infuriates him. "Ever since you started working here, I've barely been able to stop myself from-”

Reigen cuts himself off with a growl of frustration.

“Not to mention that stupid outfit, wearing it in the office like you didn’t know what you were doing! You're so- It's so- Fuck." Reigen takes a deep breath and then plows on, using his opportunity to spill his guts in a much more metaphorical way this time. 

"I had to avoid you last week, you keep wearing that little fucking skirt and it’s driving me nuts!" He groans. "I don't hate you, I just can't stop thinking about what you'd look like with it 'round your ankles." 

Your knees feel weak at his admission.

"Yeah?" You breathe, biting down on your lip. 

"Yeah!" Reigen says, visibly distressed and breathing hard. "And I know I'm your boss, and I know that's weird, and I really, really don’t want to get sued for harassment but I-!" 

“Reigen!” 

He’s working himself up and the last thing you want is for him to throw up again, so you clamp your hands on his face until he stops sucking in air like a dying fish and shuts up. 

“Take a breath.” You say, laughing.

Reigen swallows thickly and breathes in, then out. 

“I assumed you just wanted a kiss because you were jealous he got one.” With his face still between your hands, you nod back towards the building in reference to Serizawa, and Reigen shrugs. 

“I mean, yeah, that too.” He mutters, pouting a bit. 

You can’t hold back the surprised laughter that spills from your throat. This entire time you had  assumed he had absolutely no interest in you at all beyond being friends. You thought yourself alone in your longing, lonely in the assumption and upset by the notion that he’d rather move somewhere else than tolerate your presence. The avoidance, the grouchiness, the comments; none of it suggested to you that he felt any other way. 

You can’t quite believe your luck.

Reigen must misconstrue your silence for rejection because he starts to back off, reaching up to extricate himself from your grip, and you’re forced to clamp your hands down around his face to keep him still. 

“Why didn’t you bring it up?” You ask, ignoring the confused look on his face.

“What was I gonna say; ‘Look, I know I’m your superior but I think you’re really hot and kind and sweet, you wanna get dinner sometime’?.” He scoffs, as though it’s a ridiculous notion. 

“Reigen,” You grin. “I’d love to. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Reigen’s brows disappear under his fringe and his mouth opens and closes as he flounders for something to say, stunned at your response. 

“What?” He manages to choke out.

“I would love to get dinner with you.” You giggle. 

Reigen breathes a laugh, the biggest grin you’ve ever seen splitting his face in half, and he nods quickly. “You would? I can do that. Anywhere you want.” 

You join him in relieved laughter and loop your arms around his neck, tugging him closer until your bodies are pressed flush together. It feels so good to have him close like this. 

Reigen wraps his arms around your waist in response, his big hands wandering from your sides to the small of your back. 

“And if it helps,” You smirk, tugging gently on the back of his hair. “I’d also love for you to see me with my skirt around my ankles….”

Reigen groans softly. His eyes fall shut for a moment and when he opens them again, something hot lurks in his gaze.

“Oh yeah?” He murmurs, looking down to your mouth.

You can tell he wants to turn this into a new game and as much as you’d like to indulge him,  you’re acutely aware that only moments ago he was puking into a public bin. 

“If you’re waiting for another kiss,” you smirk, biting your lower lip. “You better go brush your teeth.”

Reigen releases you so quickly that you almost fall over with a yelp. He swiftly ducks under the rope that seals off the smoking area and starts to jog towards the lit up rows of shops down the street. 

“Stay here!” He yells over his shoulder. “The konbini doesn’t shut ‘til one! I’ll be right back!”

“Where are you going?!” You shout after his retreating form.

“Toothpaste!” Reigen says, turning around to throw you a wink. 

You can do nothing except laugh as you watch him leg it towards the closest convenience store.

[normal-person-i-promise]

overcoat

inspired by!!

"...Arataka. What are you doing."

Your tone is flat; unimpressed, as he slides one arm out of his coat, leaving the other in.

"...Making sure my beloved employee doesn't freeze her little fingers off, that's what."

He grins at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lays the side of the coat he isn't wearing onto your shoulder, shoving your arm in.

i havent written anything for a while so this. might not be up to par with my usual stuff

edited to change reigen to arataka because reigen is his surname i. think

★ ★ ★

Snow pelts against the window as you gaze out the glass, watching the white snowflakes fall to the ground and add to the growing white blanket. The tree's frostbitten branches adorn the sky, their black branches a stark contrast to the almost pure white of the freshly fallen snow.

You can't really focus on the view, though.

Arataka sits at his desk, his legs propped up on the wood. the fading light of the setting sun backlights him, casting a golden rim of light that traces the outline of his body. One leg crossed over the other as he takes slow drags of his cigarette, and his eyes, half-lidded, aren't fixed on you — though yours is fixed on him — as he reads a newspaper, the grey paper crinkling each and every time he adjusts his grip.

You can barely keep yourself from stealing glances at him, trailing your eyes from his shiny leather dress shoes up to where his fingers delicately grasp the cigarette, held close to his mouth.

Thank god he doesn't notice; you're practically drooling over him like some dog.

Arataka calls your name, and the way it flows off his tongue makes your heart skip a beat.

"You can go home now," he says plainly, not looking up at you. He rolls up his newspaper with a hand, setting it on the desk as he brings his legs down.

Not so much as a "how do you do"...

You bring your gaze up to meet his, smiling politely despite your disappointment.

"Thank you," you say to him, beginning to pack what little things you brought.

"Ah... It's snowing quite heavily outside, though..." He mutters to himself, cradling his chin in a hand.

You hum in response as Arataka brings his gaze to look at you, watching as you slip on your jacket.

"Mmm, I suppose I wouldn't mind...

Shall I walk you home?"

It's nothing more than an act of politeness, but it makes your heart flutter. He's usually so... Indifferent to you.

Sure, he's brought you out to eat with him — alone, a few times, but you doubt that really matters to him. Maybe he has heartfelt conversations with you occasionally, his laughs twisting your stomach into knots, but that's just a way of paying his employees.

He's not interested you or anything. He clearly doesn't care, what with how he behaves around you.

Though you can't see it — too preoccupied in wearing your jacket, which is definitely not going to be enough to shield you from the cold — Arataka's scanning your face, analyzing every little feature for some kind of reaction.

Please react in some way, he's screaming to himself. Please tell me that you love me, too.

People are so easy to read! Why are you so hard?!

You finish off buttoning your jacket just as Arataka's done securing his scarf around his neck.

You step out the door, Arataka opening it for you like a gentleman. Your cheeks flush, and it seems like his do, too — but that's just the change in temperature! There's no way he's blushing, right...?

...The walk is relatively quiet. Neither of you really initiate conversation, the both of you more than content to be together in a comfortable silence.

You can't help but steal glances at your employer every now and then. His blonde hair is a wonderful contrast to the pure white of the snow that coats the ground; his eyes, not really taking much in (you're not surprised; he hasn't really expressed much interest in anything) seem to almost... Sparkle, when those dark irises reflect the shimmering white of the snow; his cheeks are flushed from the cold, a lovely colour against the cooler tones of the pathway you both walk on.

You only realize that you've been staring for a few moments too long when his eyes meet yours. Your face heats, and you cast your gaze to the pavement in front of you, trying to ignore the loud beating of your heart in your ears, focusing on the way your boots crunch the snow.

...Out of the corner of your eye, you can still see Arataka. His cheeks seem to... Redden, slightly, before he quickly shifts his eyes to the buildings to his side.

...That must be your imagination, right? There's no way he just... Blushed, right?

You hug yourself slightly, the cold getting a bit much. You really wish you hadn't brought just a thin jacket to keep yourself warm.

Rapidly clenching and unclenching your fists, you can feel your fingers almost fall off regardless of the mittens you wear.

You risk a glance at Arataka.

He seems to be doing fine, based on how he's acting: his hands in his pockets, his gait even... You gaze longingly at the thick coat he wears, and he notices this, grinning smugly.

"Finally regretting your choice of winter clothes, huh?"

You blush, huffing in annoyance as you shove your hands in your jacket's pockets.

"Oh, come on. I'm fine."

He hums uncertainly at your words, fixing you with a worried look for a moment before it's wiped off his face, replaced with indifference, maybe even annoyance.

"You should plan for the future more often. You need to think of all the ways things could go wrong, so that you can prepare for them before they happen and take you by surprise."

You roll your eyes at his words. Of course he'd use this as an opportunity to lecture you. He's always doing that.

"...I'm fine, Arataka," you repeat, flashing him what you think is a reassuring smile. Arataka just frowns slightly, his eyes searching yours for some reassurance.

...He doesn't fine any.

He's quick to hide it, though. What if he's overstepping his boundaries? What if he's being too concerned about you? What if you don't like him back?

He sighs in feigned exasperation, beginning to undo his coat.

"...Arataka. What are you doing."

Your tone is flat; unimpressed, as he slides one arm out of his coat, leaving the other in.

"...Making sure my beloved employee doesn't freeze her little fingers off, that's what."

He grins at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lays the side of the coat he isn't wearing onto your shoulder, shoving your arm in.

You scowl, but find your cheeks flushing. The warmth of his body pressed up against yours comforting, serving as a means to hinder the frigid cold that bites at your extremities. This is definitely a step up from just now.

It's not like he's deliberately pressing himself against you, he's just trying to share the coat, thats all. It's not like he's deliberately snaking his arm around your waist, he's just trying to keep you warm, making sure you're comfortable.

...It's silent again, the two of you walking together as one.

Your gaze is trained on the snow, the ice turning gold with the light of the setting sun as you crunch the snowflakes under your feet.

When you steal glances back to Arataka, you see his face disinterested. His eyes are empty, his expression neutral as he walks alongside you on the empty sidewalk, not meeting your gaze.

It's a little... Disheartening to see this, especially when he looks so attractive — the golden light of the sun reflecting in his dark brown eyes, half lidded; the dirty blonde of his tousled hair settling nicely above his eyebrows; his skin, almost glowing in the setting sun's golden rays.

He brings his eyes to meet yours as you stare at him, and you quickly avert your gaze, blushing.

You keep your eyes off Arataka once he notices you staring at him for the upteenth time, though it's hard to not cast brief glances back to him every once in a while.

You're getting a little more used to feeling his body pressed up against yours under the thick coat, your expression neutral, the blush gone from your cheeks — now only there because of the cold. You can sort of say you've calmed down now, your heart beat normal, your breathing even.

Arataka, though he appears to be calm, is freaking out.

He struggles to keep his breathing even, fighting to ignore the rapid beating of his heart, trying to ignore the butterflies he feels in his stomach.

You played along when he teased you, you didn't argue when he started to share his coat, you didn't say anything when he put his hand around your waist—

...Should he try... It, now?

You reach your little flat, and you thank Arataka for walking you back as you slip his coat off your arm. You're more than a little disappointed to leave his side, missing the body heat already as you begin to climb up the stairs.

...Before you can get too far, though, Arataka is following you up.

"...Arataka?"

You arch a brow at him when you reach your floor.

"Oh, come on," he says, a grin in his voice as he leans in close, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath ghosting on your face.

"You're definitely still cold."

He tilts his head slightly, and as his half-lidded eyes fall to your lips, he speaks in a voice smoother than a heated knife through butter.

"...I could help you with that."

Your cheeks flush. He's not... Asking to kiss you, is he?

You nod in response.

Arataka's grin widens, and he leans in...

Before abruptly pulling away, quickly undoing the scarf around his neck and throwing it in your face. It falls into your hands just as he's sprinting to the stairs.

"You should plan for the future more!" He calls from the stairwell, his voice echoing as his heels click with each step he takes.

"You'll catch a cold!"

You stare at the green scarf in your hands, the fabric soft as it tumbles between your fingers.

Arataka's scarf.

[waitineedaname]

I don't know how to make this thought coherent, so bear with me people, but. I think ritsu calling shou "suzuki" instead of "suzuki-kun" says a lot about their relationship. ritsu is extremely consistent and polite with his use of honorifics, even with people he doesn't like that much (reigen is always reigen-san, for example)

but shou is always "suzuki," he never gets his proper honorific. this might be a stretch, but I think it fits into what I've thought about their relationship in the past, which is that shou gives ritsu the opportunity to drop the perfect kid act. him using everyone's polite honorifics might be good etiquette, but it also might be him creating distance between himself and others while wearing a polite mask. with shou, he doesn't need to bother with that. they met by beating the hell out of each other for fuck's sake, etiquette is out the window here

but while him dropping honorifics might be rude in other cases (the "NO HONORIFIC??" bit with hoshino in that one omake comes to mind) I don't think it is here. I'd forgotten until doing this reread, but ritsu refers to shou as his friend really easily. like, they've known each other for maybe a full day, and they were enemies before that, but when looking up at the cultural tower, he tells mob "my friend is up there!"

so I think him just calling him suzuki is actually a sign of him being close with shou. no bullshit, no using honorifics to maintain a polite image or to intimidate or to impress. he's just being direct with him, because shou isn't someone he has to put up a front around

[acewithapaintbrush]

For @jellybe-gets-creative who isn't feeling well right now. This takes place just weeks after the finale. Mob is still getting used to not hiding how he really feels and Reigens immune system is pretty much out of whack after the beating he took. Of course also hints of SeriRei

********

"Shishou, I think you might be sick." 

Reigen lifts his head out of the palm of his hand where he'd been resting it. Just for a second, just because… well… Just cause! He's the boss, he doesn't need a reason!

The man gestures with his other hand and ignores the way his elbow slides all over the desk. He really ought to tell the cleaning lady to go easy on the wood polish. He finishes his performance with a snap of his fingers that rings in his ears. 

"Whatever gave you that idea, Mob?" 

Damn his voice sounds scratchy. Kinda sexy though, right? Maybe? Too bad Serizawa is on a coffee run. 

"Your voice is scratchy." Mob confirms and lifts a finger for each new symptom he can identify. "Your face is red. Your nose runny. You almost fell asleep on your desk just now. I can hear the breath rattling in your chest. You gave Serizawa-san your own money for coffee and then didn't even tell him to ask for a discount. You-" 

"Alright, alright! Sheesh!" Reigen runs a hand over his forehead. His wet and hot forehead.

Damn fever.

He waves his hand in an attempt to distract his disciple from the sweat trickling down his temple and the tremor running through his limbs. That backfires pathetically when he loses control of his own movements and almost smacks himself in the face. Mob watches him with a face as unreadable as a stone wall. "All nice observations, but you are wrong. I'm perfectly fine." 

Ok, so Mob looks decidedly unamused now. But that's better than that vacant and guilty look he usually gets when Reigen's compromised immune system fucks him over. So still a win, as far as his Shishou is concerned. 

Mob lifts one hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?" 

"Where are we? Kindergarten?" 

Mob doesn't answer, just holds his hand up even higher. Reigen sighs and squints his eyes. This would be so much easier if the room would just stop spinning. 

"Seven." 

Mob looks at the three fingers he is holding up and pouts a little. "Shishou, how could there be seven fingers on one hand?" 

Reigen leans back into his chair. Deflect deflect deflect. "Just messing with you." Yep, that's all it is. "I'm fine, kid. Stop worrying so much." 

He feels more than sees Mob's shoulders slump. The boy turns away, defeated. But even before Reigen can properly ignore the heavy ball that settles in the pit of his stomach, Mob turns back around again, a determined glint in his eyes. 

"No. You are sick, Shishou. You'll go home and I'll cancel the rest of your appointments for today and tomorrow you will stay home as well and recover."

Reigen stares at the boy - no. 

At the young man. 

"When have you become so bossy?", he whines and laughs when Mob immediately flusters and tries to backtrack. The laughter sends a sharp pain through the base of his skull and Reigen stops pretending that everything is fine long enough to groan and bury his head in his crossed arms on top of his desk. He knows when he is beaten. "Fine. But I don't think I can walk home by myself. I'll wait for Serizawa, he can walk me home."

Maybe the man will carry him home. Straight into his bed. Not that Reigen would be able to enjoy anything in this condition but a man can dream, can't he? 

"Shishou." Mob sounds pained. "You are talking out loud again." 

Ah, shit! Having a mouth that runs a mile a minute might be good for talking yourself out of a pickle, but it's deadly when you are running a fever. 

Reigen lifts a finger without lifting his head. He doesn't think he'll be able to face his student for at least 24 hours. "You heard nothing." 

A hand softly pats his head. It should feel patronizing, maybe even make the headache flare. But all it does is sooth Reigen's turbulent and feverish thoughts. 

"Of course. Now rest." 

And Reigen does. 

[crystalv01d]

i just thought of a(n interesting?) mp100 AU concept

(good LORD this got WAY LONGER than it was supposed to,,., my bad)

so basically,, about a year before mob would have originally met regien, and a few weeks after suzuki recruits serizawa to join him, a young sho catches his dear old dad toichiro wiping blood off of his hands after beating the soon-to-be newest claw member(s? others could possibly have possibly been involved) in a psychic battle. after seeing the bloodied and now scarred bodies on the ground at his feet. after witnessing the true nature of his fathers actions, he fears for his own life, as well as the lives other claw members. as such his ideas and conceptions he previously had about his father, and the thought of wanting to be like him, are put into question. what would happen if he follows the path his father already walks?

unsure of what to do, and unsure of who he can trust among the upper echelon of claw that follows his father, he seeks out the newest member, katsuya serizawa, hoping he, as an adult, can shed some light on the situation. he begs for serizawa to help him. to help him understand what’s going on, and what he should do. serizawa can’t entirely understand the situations, and he doesn’t know what to think as it’s happening, but he sees innocent people, hurt. and he sees suzuki at the center of it. and he sees the man’s son, scared. alone. unsure of what to do. and at risk of being hurt too. and so. with what little knowledge and experience he has as a recluse. he makes a quick decision. he takes sho. and runs.

and runs.

and runs.

serizawa takes out his umbrella (it had started raining), and continues on, carrying sho in one arm.

they eventually end up in a place known as seasoning city. far enough from the current claw base of operations to feel somewhat safe for the time being. unsure of where to go, they end up looking around for anywhere that could be suitable for a couple of stray espers. a hotel, or somewhere they could find food, or a map. or something. anything. they just wanted to get out of the rain.

as they’re looking around, they see a sign.

“Spirits and Such Consultation Office”

they enter the building, entering into the office, a man introduces himself as reiegen arataka (he was in the middle of having a smoke break, thinking about where he’ll be after another year in the psychic business, how he’ll probably job hop again, thinking about what his next job will be,, maybe he’ll be a PI for a little while.) but before he can ask how he can help them, he’s caught off guard by the state the two him are in. he tells them they seem like they’ve ha a rough day. serizawa attempt so to speak but is too nervous. sho introduces the both of them, and asks if they can tak to him. reigen decides to humor the two.

sho tries his best to explain that him and serizawa are both espers, and that based on the sign outside, they thought reigen might have the same abilities that they do. reigen is incredibly suspicious of this claim, asking if this is some sort of elaborate prank they’re trying to pull. sho denies this, and does his best to explain to reigen vaguely about how they came from a place with some scary people, and that they’re both really scared, and not sure what to do. sho explains that to him they don’t want to be bad people too, and asks reigen if he can help them.

so reigen, still dubious of their claims, gives them advice the best advice he can think of on the spot. (pretty akin to what he tells mob in canon)

reigen decides to get up and grab them fresh (hot) refills of their tea, as he doesn’t have anymore clients for the day, and was simply waiting on walk-ins. reigen then loses his balance for a brief moment, and lets go of the cups of tea in his hands by accident. to his surprise, this prompts the two to each catch a cup with their psychic abilities, as well as keeping reigen from falling on his face. reigen looks at them with surprise, and asks if they are able to see spirits, and also if they’d like to learn how to exorcise them, offering to teach them how. sho looks at serizawa who nods, and sho agrees for both of them. reigen tells them that he’ll teach them how to use their powers in a way that won’t be scary or bad for anyone.

reigen also takes it upon himself to asks serizawa if he’s sho’s father, to which he shakes his head no, and sho proclaims he has no father. reigen decides against asking about any other possible parents. once their tea, and conversation, have been finished, reigen asks them to head home and come back tomorrow, the same as he’ll be doing. they glance at each other, and then glance at reigen, and then glance back at eachother. he asks if they actually have a place to stay for the night, and the two admit the have nowhere to go. reigen (after a bath and changing into some clean, non-damp from rain, clothes, allows them to stay at his apartment for the night, staring they’ll work on proper living arrangements later.

(he also buys them takoyaki in the morning)

so,, basically reigen and serizawa basically end up raising sho and sho ends up mentoring under reigen and working at spirits and such (reigen also ends up enrolling sho into school so he can get a proper education). meanwhile serizawa, while also doing his best to help reigen with sho, is also being mentored under and helped by reigen to reintegrate into society and adjust to living a non-reclusive life, while he also works at spirits and such alongside sho! (he eventually decides on going back to school, but that’s much later, and also the idea of going to night school specifically was reigen’s)

meanwhile, at the claw headquarters, a few weeks after the disappearance of sho and serizawa, and the aftermath of a search for both individuals who fled with no turn up of either, Suzuki decides it would be best to find a replacement for serizawa if possible (he has no reason to believe he’ll share what little information he had) and ask his wife of sho’s whereabouts (even though they hadn’t spoken in some time), assuming she had something to do with his disappearance specifically.

eventually, about a year (or perhaps a bit less than a year) later, his search leads him to seasoning city, where he digs up old rumors about a young child that once displayed the possession of substantial and rather impressive psychic abilities in kindergarten. eventually he is able to find the whereabouts of this child, and thus finds himself on the lageyama’s doorstep.

under the guise of an “esper councilor” he offers the parents of the young boy, shigeo kageyama, his expertise, in order to assist his growth into a stable, healthy, and powerful esper. to which they eventually make an agreement. an agreement allowing shigeo to visit mr. suzuki every other weekend, a timeframe that eventually shifts into every weekend, to which he eventually offers to be the boys teacher, having more than enough of the proper credentials and skill sets.

seeing how much happier shigeo is thought suzuki’s involvement, shigeo’s parents agree wholeheartedly, but ask one for one request to be fulfilled in return. to help mentor and nurture the growth of their youngest son as well. they explain to suzuki that, as far as they are aware at the moment, that he does not posses any psychic powers, however, he has been incredibly lonely, and misses his brother dearly when he is away from home. they expressed a concern that, although this private schooling could greatly benefit shige, they didn’t want it to negatively impact his little brother, or their relationship, and that perhaps being mentored together would benefit them both much in a much greater way than one being mentored alone.

suzuki agrees.

under suzuki’s guidance mob’s powers grow and flourish, having been gifted an umbrella by suzuki originally for comfort, it becomes a useful tool for harnessing his powers in a satisfying way.

ritsu also unlocks his latent abilities under suzuki’s influence. however they are much more unstable. as such, suzuki gifts him an umbrella to use as an outlet to use his powers in a safe, and controlled manner.

time passes, and after much nurturing training

the highest group among the upper echelon of claw, and the group working the closest with suzuki.

becomes known as the Ultimate 6.

(ALSO WHAT THE HELL THIS WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE SO LONG AAAAGFHRGRAH,,,.,., thank u for reading all of that if u somehow actually managed to get to the end. and maybe drop a reblog if you'd be interested to know more.,? dbsifbdi u don't have 2 obvi, but it'd be super nice!! i plan to make more mp100 content anyways so maybe even follow while ur here?? jk jk,, unless? okay i'll stop rambling now OH and thank u again for reading ^^ <3)

[creativenicocorner]

Seeing your opinions on writing dialogue in other languages in fic was really neat. It seems like you put a lot of thought into how you handle dialogue and it made me curious about how you approach this in A Funny Old World. When Moist meets everyone, is he speaking Japanese? Do you have Morporkian and Japanese as being the same language in this fic or is there something else?

♡___〆(・∀・) What a wonderful question @verdigrispatina !! Thank you for asking!!

It's a little tricky in A Funny Old World because it is a bit of everything. Two things are happening that are true:

Moist is from the Discworld (a world as we know strongly powered by belief. Believe something hard enough and it might just manifest in strange and interesting ways.)

Teruki is hinted at actively reading and dreaming about Discworld books ( I said in my fic notes, I'm working under the assumption Japan was very lucky to have all 41 books translated.)

So what happens when these two very true things happen at the same time? And I've sort of built it off of that.

Moist is able to communicate with Reigen and Teruki not only because his book was translated and Teruki was having strong emotions about the series, but also right from the get go Reigen mistakes Moist as Just Some Guy™ -why wouldn't this average looking guy in Japan not know how to speak Japanese? Even if he looks a little foreign, his face is hard to pin down.

In a future chapter when Reigen and Teruki start questioning this a bit more, especially when the three of them grab ramen together, the pair of them can see how strong their influence on Moist can be with their belief.

In the scene not only has them wondering how it is that Moist can communicate with them, but other small things like a seasoned pro (using chopsticks for example), the more Reigen and Teruki start to agree that, maybe it isn't very realistic that Moist would know how to use chopsticks, the more Moist starts gradually not being able to use them and gets increasingly frustrated because: 'I was managing perfectly before!'

This leads to Moist having his own version of the famous Taako Adventure Zone quote: I have emotions! It’s not all abraca-fuck-you and what have you. I have a beating heart! I’m multi-dimensional! I’m a fully-realized creation! FUCK!

That is to say Moist ends up working over time trying to continuously explain that He's a REAL PERSON!! He has a WIFE WAITING FOR HIM!!!! Cue Moist having to believe in his own existence - it gets very existential haha

And YET that too is the power of belief, if Reigen and Teruki don't believe then Moist has to work EVEN HARDER to believe in himself, and his existence. (There's this really silly, but hopefully powerful scene I want to get to, where Moist and Reigen are out on Reigen's balcony while Reigen smokes, and Moist has a rendition of "I miss my wife, Reigen. I miss her a lot." and the scene slowly becomes more and more sobering. Full of complex emotions, leading Reigen to accept that, yes he might be a character from a book, but Moist is also right in front of him with flesh and able to bleed and cry. What's more real than that?)

After all that number 1 detail that is still very true!! Moist IS REAL, REALLY from the Disc. Specifically a post canon Disc, and paired with that, well, I very much like to head canon Fedecks (the pseudo Hermes of the Disc) never really left Moist after what he did in Going Postal. Moist as a character embodies so naturally all the things that Fedecks (Hermes) represents: thieves, messenger of the gods-and messages in general, psychopomp, watcher of travelers and cross roads.

I have a lot of feelings about Moist and his similarities to Hermes, which I hope to explore further in detail in other works (A Runaway's Gamble is for sure one of those works)

That is to say, I like to think Fedecks borrows in Moist, just in there along for the ride in his fancy silly avatar- delightfully curious as to what he'd do next. And because of that, Moist is, unknowingly, a trans-dimensional trickster god. Very human, can still bleed etc, but certain things will work or not work by, essentially, Bugs Bunny Logic (whether it would be funny, or hilariously not funny) and ye olde narrative convention.

Something Moist unknowingly taps into while trying very hard to believe he is real.

The only character who gets close to figuring the whole piggybacking trickster god thing out is Dimple who tries to possess Moist (multiple times). Only to get jettisoned (or self ejects) out after a harrowing encounters with Fedecks.

All this to say, the answer is Yes!

Morporkian is Japanese, because the Discworld books were translated in Japanese. But also, Morporkian is still Morporkian and Moist has a piggybacking trickster god inside that thinks it'd be boring if Moist couldn't use his words.

I hope this made sense, and that I articulated it well!

♡⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝♡Thank you so much again for asking!!♡

Best wishes, Nico

[you-can-be-what-you-want-to-be]

probably not at all an original thought because I only finished the show like a week ago BUT

mob psycho au where the Mogami stuff was legit and real and Reigen meets mob after he awakens to beat those kids asses so that

1 Reigen immediately understands the weight of what mobs power can do and maybe has to try and stop him here

2 mob has little experience with this and with trying to restrain emotions for the sake of powers

3 mob is way less trusting and naive and is just a bit suspicious of Reigen (prob no longer faking the psychic thing)

4 Reigen is trying to help this kid (while also being aware of like life and death stuff here) and maybe is more manipulative and teaches mob those skills

(example: instead of just never use your powers which Someone who spent their whole life harassed without a way to fight back might not take to as well, it turns into is she really worth going to jail over? people tend to pick on others to get a reaction, because they’re insecure, or because they want to fit in. You can scare her really good without her knowing it’s you or hurting people in these ways as an alternative to doing that stuff or letting yourself get pounded on.)

idk man I just think it would be fun to see Reigen deal with a troubled kid and see mob deal with things without the knowledge or at least experience of being all powerful because I love pacifism but my guy only gets away with it by being op and doesn’t try alternative methods, he just gets beat up because it won’t hurt him so bad.

[handsmotif]

once again being driven crazy by how much this is a mob psycho song im literally going to EXPLODE. PLEASE LISTEN AND SHARE MY VISION BEFORE I BLOW UP INTO A MILLION PIECES.

some of my expanded thoughts on this under da cut

My grip on my secrets slipping while I'm speaking in tongues / Screaming at the top of my lungs in the confession booth / Take it with a pillar of salt

now i’m trying to picture this in my head as like. an amv where it kind of just recaps the entire show and goes in order of events. that being SAID this would fit REALLY well with reigen in the separation and/or confession arc but the trouble is this is the very first verse. maybe i could start at the end and loop it back around? but either way this verse is extremely reigencore

The devil made me do it, but I also kinda wanted to / I'm cut from a different kind of meat / More than you can chew, hard to swallow me / Forget bored stiff, I got rigor mortis, call it morbid curiosity how I / Cannot commit to reality, when my third eye's open and I like what I see / Baby, I may be crazy but I didn't lose it, no I set it free

^ this is the mindset of almost every esper that mob has faced up against and i’m also kind of fond of “the devil made me do it but i also kind of wanted to” specifically referring to ritsu and dimple. i think this would kind of quickly run through the season 1 arcs antagonist beatdowns

I can't ignore what's under dance floorboards / The rhythm of my heart a dead-as-disco beat / But I still move my feet to slip out of this groove, I'm free / Now, to row, row, row my boat over the falls / And maybe wake up from but a dream, yeah

mogami arc speedrun

i would then maybe edit the instrumental break and chorus to go thru the next 2 arcs of season 2 and lead us into season 3 which sadly means that there’s barely any focus on them but they at least get a mention. might actually edit the instrumental break to be a little longer so it’s not so rushed

If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see / You'd look through illusions, hallucinations, and lucid dream / And I know that meaning can be such a pretty thing to keep / But I got facts and I'm not afraid to use 'em / Take the good with the bad, take off the back you make a new front

divine tree arc speedrun

But I'm more level-headed and clever than ever / And I'm getting better one forever at a time, and if / Sick is defined by what's different, well then pull the plug out and let me die

you know how right before mob gets hit by a car he’s recollecting about how much he’s changed? and then he does get hit by that car? i have this VISION in my head and the crater forms right on that beat at the end of this verse.

Vice-versa vice versus virtue, well who I am I choose through all the things I do / And if it rhymes, it's true - but I hate poetry / Now with my moral compass pointing south, going down / With no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no respect for reality

shigeo vs mob

and then the rest of the song takes us through the end of the arc and the very last shot is of mob laughing at reigen’s party :-)

[writing-badger]

Twitter Polls Make For The Bloodiest Battlefields - Chapter 6

Does Anyone Play Pokemon's Video Game?

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 (Previous Chapter) • 6 • 6.5

Pairing: Sakata Gintoki x Reigen Arataka

Summary: Anime Twitter was thrown into chaos. Thirty-two "DILFs" were thrown into a merciless battle to find out who truly encapsulated the title of Dad I'd Like to Fuck. Two competitors begin to wonder whether the battle is worth it and maybe, just maybe, they can overcome their differences to find a way out.

Genre: Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 2,752

Warnings: None

Reigen might not look like it, but he is rather experienced with Pokémon. Of course, he would never admit this, but he used to have a collection of cards that would make even the most ardent Pokémon fan jealous. If anyone ever found out about his old hobby, he would simply brush it off as being a flight of fancy; something to fill his free time. 

 In reality, he used it to fill his time at school when barely anyone would talk to him. After all, puberty is always a rough time and Reigen, with his excessively sweaty nature, definitely struggled at times. So one of his parents suggested trying to get in with the latest trend. 

 As with most well-intentioned advice, this only pushed him further away from the other kids in his year; mostly because he earns a reputation of being just a little bit too good at the game. Some went as far as to claim that he was somehow cheating, but that was just a baseless accusation made by classmates who didn’t know any better. 

 It’s not his fault that they never took the time to understand the game, usually being distracted by rarity and not considering the skills behind that card. He didn’t really dabble in video games too much, finding that then NPCs could only do so much before becoming wholly predictable. It also lacked the spontaneity of a human opponent; something which he enjoys. 

 This puts him in a fairly good position, no matter who his opponent is.

 However, he has to admit that using children to fight, even if they are holograms, sets him a little bit on edge. While they don’t seem to feel pain, it is a little strange when they are based on real people. He also wonders if their real counterparts have any idea of what is happening to their other selves. Would Mob know if Reigen used him to beat up another kid after telling him that it should be only a last-ditch attempt?

 He is so wrapped up in the moral quandary of it all that he doesn’t even notice being teleported into the arena. It is only when the man standing opposite him clears his throat that he snaps out of it. The man has bloodshot eyes which stare coldly at Reigen, although it lacks the hostility of the shoeless, silver-haired samurai. The samurai probably thought he was being subtle with his pointed glares behind Reigen’s back, but the psychic noticed almost immediately. He knows who he needs to keep an eye out for, and that samurai carried an aura that was dangerous in this type of competition. 

 It’s the aura of a man willing to do anything to win easy money. 

 Reigen would happily bet his expansive card collection that not only does the samurai have a crippling pachinko addiction, but that he has a small handful of labour violations waiting to be revealed. 

 He just knows it. 

 “We should probably introduce ourselves,” the man opposite says, “formalities and all that.”

 Despite being the one to suggest this, he looks like he absolutely does not want to say more than is absolutely necessary. 

 “Sure, I’m Reigen Arataka; Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century,” he says, noticing that the man now looks extremely unimpressed, “and small business owner.” He tags this on to try and make himself sound a little bit more impressive, but it doesn’t work.

 “One of those types, huh?”

 The tone used makes this comment feel a lot more cutting than the usual jabs he gets from Ritsu; although the glare is a little less intense than that. 

“My name is Aizawa Shota, a… teacher.”

 For a moment, it looks as though Aizawa is debating something in his mind. It’s suspicious, but Reigen doesn’t push it since whatever he does will probably have very little influence on the fight. 

 Aizawa looks like a rather lethargic opponent, especially when compared to a couple of the more competitive contestants.   This should make it an easy win for Reigen and he feels more optimistic when Mob materialises. 

 The holo-Mob is wearing the usual school uniform and is looking characteristically unfazed by his new location. While Reigen would usually be a bit more concerned about his disciple, he knows that Mob is a capable ester and should easily be able to fight any opponent without too much difficulty. 

 At least, that’s what Reigen thought. As soon as Aizawa’s fighter appears, all confidence floods out of his body. 

 “Eri?”

 The girl looks younger than Mob did when they first met; her eyes are filled with confusion as she looks around. Reigen had been expecting another teenager, not a small child who looks completely defenceless. Aizawa, who had previously looked rather apathetic, now looks worried as Eri turns to look at him. 

 “Shishou, what’s happening?”

 For once, Reigen is stumped. How can he order Mob to beat up a small child? It would not only be morally reprehensible, but he has spent so long preaching that Mob shouldn’t use his abilities against others… this would completely betray the boy’s trust in him. 

“This pair of spirits are particularly powerful, so I thought this would be some good training for you,” he lies after a moment’s hesitation, tugging at his tie slightly to alleviate the tightness against his neck. 

 Mob 10%

 It appears that Mob isn’t the only one who heard what he said as Eri, on the other side, suddenly begins to tear up. 

 “Aizawa, did we die?”

 This is not good; if looks could kill, Reigen would be six-feet under right now. 

 “We are both fine, Eri,” Aizawa says, kneeling down so that his eyes are level with hers.  Unfortunately, Eri doesn’t seem to hear this as her cries quickly get louder and louder. 

 While it isn’t the most morally sound situation, this could give him an advantage over his opponent. If anything, taking them out quickly would mean that the poor girl wouldn’t have to fight. That makes him the good guy, right?

 Mob, meanwhile, looks a little uncomfortable as he watches the teacher trying to console the girl. 

 Mob 17%

 Reigen decides that it will be more fruitful to use his time to form a strategy and so he looks down at the options he has.  There are a couple of buttons, four allotted to moves, one offering the option to switch fighters, and items. 

 While he can’t think of any reason as to why he would use items, or who he could swap Mob with, he keeps note of them. You never know when things could go wrong. 

 What he wants to focus on is Mob’s move set. Three of the moves, at first seem fairly normal; Dynamic Punch, Cross Punch, Seismic Toss…

 But as Reigen thinks about it, he realises something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

 “Oi, Mob,” he says as the hologram’s attention shifts to him, “why are these so many fighting moves?”

 “The Body Improvement Club said that it would help with training.”

 He says this so bluntly that Reigen doesn’t question how the club would even know about this competition. His focus is on something else entirely. Not only have they taken up more of Mob’s after-school time, forcing Reigen to do a number of more dangerous jobs alone, but they have turned his Psychic-type into a Fighting-type. Fighting and Psychic go together about as well as fire and water. 

 “Mob, you should rely on your strengths a little more.”

 Mob 26%

 “You said that I shouldn’t use my powers to hurt others,” Mob says. 

 “I know, but being punched is going to hurt a lot more than using some low-level psychic attacks,” Reigen tries to reason. While this would be true for most people, in Mob’s case the opposite is probably true. No matter how hard he tries to build muscle, it isn’t going his way. 

 Mob 37%

 At least there seems to be one psychic move that has survived the great purge. Shattered Psyche. 

 Unlike the other buttons, this one is greyed out; almost like it needs to be activated somehow. Reigen wonders if it is like one of those new game mechanics that get swapped out every generation. 

 On the other side of the arena, Aizawa has managed to calm Eri down; although she still seems to struggle with understanding what’s happening. He needs to remind himself that she is just a hologram… a very real-looking hologram. 

 “I don’t want to fight them,” she says as a conflicted look crosses Aizawa’s face. If there had been the option to flee, he would have chosen it without a moment’s hesitation. Instead, his only option is to make her fight with the hope that she doesn’t get too hurt. 

 “I know, Eri, but you will get hurt if you don’t,” he responds, trying to reassure her a little more. 

 “Shishou, I really don’t think that they’re spirits,” Mob says while they wait for them to make a move. 

 “It’s all an act, Mob. They want you to lower your guard before trying to possess you.” 

 Mob 48%

 While Mob and Reigen reach an uneasy understanding, Aizawa has managed to calm Eri down enough for him to finally make a move. 

 “I’m going to press this button and it will help you,” he explains calmly, “will you be alright with that?”

 Eri nods, her long hair bouncing slightly as she does. 

 Without wasting another second, Aizawa presses a random button; probably hoping that it will do the trick. 

 Eri uses Sparkly Swirl. 

 An impressive pastel tornado begins to swirl around her, whipping up the air before it goes hurtling towards Mob. At the last second, he manages to dodge out of the way. His left arm, however, is less lucky as it is caught in the attack. 

 It is super effective.

 The uniform covering his arm is shredded and drops of blood spill to the floor. Outside of that, it doesn’t seem to have caused too much damage. 

 Still, there is a much bigger problem for Reigen to deal with. Eri just had to be a fairy type, leaving Mob at an even bigger disadvantage. The only thing that he can be thankful for is that Mob has a very large hp bar; almost double that of his opponent. 

 “See, Mob, they really are dangerous,” Reigen says, hoping that the teenager will believe him at least a little bit.

 “I guess, but it didn’t hurt at all,” Mob says as he looks down at his arm. 

 Mob 54%

 “That’s because you are such a strong esper, but it will start causing damage,” Reigen says, trying to convince Mob that fighting back is necessary. 

 Technically, he could just let Mob lose, meaning that he could get back to the store and try to make sure his rental car can be returned before he gets fined. However, he doesn’t like the idea of letting Aizawa win after calling him ‘one of thosetypes'. 

 He can always lose the second round, leaving his pride intact. 

 “However, strength is meaningless without the willingness to use it… sometimes,” he adds on, hoping that this will spur Mob into action. 

 Wanting to get a gauge on how weak Mob is in this state, he pushes a button for one of the moves. 

 Mob uses Cross Punch. 

 Mob walks up to Eri, towering over her like a fearsome opponent. Despite his intimidating posture, it is clear that he doesn’t want to hurt the hologram in front of him. 

 Mob 60%

 He raises one of his fists, drawing it back before it goes flying towards the girl. 

 As it connects with her upper arm, nothing happens. Eri barely even acknowledges that anything has happened as Mob makes his way back over to Reigen. 

 It’s not very effective. 

 Mob 64%

 The opponent’s hp drops a grand total of three points. Three measly points out of a hundred. No matter how much hp Mob has, it is meaningless if he can barely make a dent in the opponent. 

 “You know, Mob,” Reigen says, hoping to offer some advice to the hologram, “you can hit her a little bit harder.”

 Mob 73%

 Aizawa, meanwhile, has spent his time formulating a plan; something he couldn’t do when he was busy consoling Eri. 

 Eri, switch out!

 Almost immediately, the girl disappears which fills Reigen with relief. But this only lasts a moment as a teenager takes her place. 

 If Reigen had to guess, he would say the teen is roughly the same age as Mob. 

 Go Shinsō!

 While the switch means that Mob won’t be attacked this round, there is a higher risk of Shinsō being a lot stronger. 

 “Shishou, can I swap out?” Mob asks, but as Reigen checks over his options, he finds that there is no one else that views Reigen as a parental figure. 

 He isn’t surprised by this, but he does find it a little bit disappointing. 

 “I’m sorry Mob, you’re going to have to fight.”

 Mob 81%

 Reigen tries a different move, hoping that their opponent is a dark or steel type. After all he looks like a dark type, which would put Mob in an advantageous position. 

 Mob uses Seismic Toss. 

 Walking up to Shinsō, Mob wraps his arms around the other teen’s waist and attempts to perform something akin to a suplex. 

 Unfortunately, his opponent is way too heavy for Mob to lift. Instead, he struggles for half a minute before giving up. 

 It’s not very effective. 

 “Good try Mob!”

 Reigen, realising how much danger Mob is in, does his best to cheer the hologram. They are both stuck with the hand dealt to them. 

 Mob 89%

 Since it is clear that their opponent is not an ideal match-up, all he needs is for Shinsō to not be a Fairy, Flying, or Psychic type. 

 Without even saying a word, Aizawa presses a button, with the teenager acting without question. It seems that they have a very trusting relationship, something that Reigen kind of feels jealous about. Although he has to admit, that Mob is a good kid; even with his potentially destructive power. 

 Shinsō uses Instruct.

 A psychic move, of course, it would be. 

 “Hey, what’s your name?”

 The question is innocuous enough, but Reigen can’t help but have a bad feeling about it. 

 “Mob, don’t answer that.”

 “Mob, huh? You don’t want to fight, do you?”

 “I… uh…”

 “Mob,” Reigen warns, but it’s too late. 

 “Repeat the last move you made,” Shinsō commands. 

 Mob 91%

It’s super effective.

 With great effort, Mob slowly walks over to where Shinsō is. Much like last time, the move is pitifully weak and takes off a single hit point.

 Shinsō laughs at this, clearly revelling a little bit in the apparent power difference between the two. 

 Mob 93%

 Unsure of what else he can do, Reigen selects Dynamic Punch, hoping that it will do at least a small bit of damage, but knows full well that he is fighting a losing battle. 

 Mob uses Dynamic Punch.

 The punch, like all other attacks, is brushed off easily. At this point, Mob would be better off not moving at all. 

 It’s not very effective. 

 Mob 95%

 Again, Reigen can only watch helplessly as Shinsō uses yet another move. This time a Dark-type move, probably the only one in his move set. 

 Shinsō uses Taunt. 

 It is clear that the hologram of Mob is struggling, clasping his hands over his ears as Shinsō’s words seep underneath his skin; worming their way into his mind. 

 Mob 97%

 It’s super effective. Mob is unable to move. 

 If Reigen had been paying more attention, he would have found it strange that Taunt paralysed Mob. It was usually used to stop status moves, so it shouldn’t have blocked anything. 

 Yet he didn’t notice at all. His attention is instead focused on Mob. Since he can’t even make a move, Shinsō prepares another attack; his taunts still filling the hologram’s mind. 

 Shinsō uses Psychic Fangs. 

 As the attack hits its target, Reigen shuts his eyes; not wanting to see Mob getting hurt anymore. He knows that it’s cowardly, but it’s all he can think to do. 

 It’s super effective.

 “You should just give up,” Shinsō says, his eyes looking a lot like those of Aizawa. A slight grin sits on his face, but only for a moment. As the visuals of the attack begin to fade, an immense and unknowable pressure begins to fill the arena.

 Mob 99%

Next Chapter

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[nishiannoya]

ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴜᴍʙ

a/n: nobody asked for this. i didn't even ask for this. liking reigen is a disease and im here to spread the virus. may we find the cure. only dolly parton can save us now.

reigen arataka x gn!reader, foul language, established relationship, mental health talk, reigen calls you a bitch, mentions of vomit, and somehow this is fluff, (1.7k wc)

When Reigen asks when you fell for him, you pretend to think about it. You don't really have to think about it, but you do have to think about if you want to tell him. He might not be all too pleased to hear it, though you've never really cared about coddling his feelings. Even though you are comfortable with him, this relationship of yours is less than a year old and there's still a lot of unopened doors.

So you tell him the half truth, that you've always noticed him.

And it's true - he's not not a good-looking guy, and he appeared decently put together when you first met him. It's not that you thought he was perfect, or even trying to be perfect, but his casual welcoming air at first introduction seemed calculated. You could tell he wanted something, not necessarily from you, but it's almost as if you could see a pyramid of desire and him balancing on the point of junction at the top. Despite the tension of it, it seemed dull to you - certainly not any way you'd want to live your life, or even attempt to support someone living it. But call it whatever you want, you knew there was something about him, or maybe even wanted there to be something.

He seems satisfied with your answer. Smug bastard, but you'll let him believe it. In turn, you ask him the same question back.

"Well, of course I thought you were attractive when I first introduced myself, but I also thought you were kind of a bitch," he says way too candidly. One of the many reasons you hate being attached to him.

"I said only kind of!" He offers in defense when he sees your scowl. "But I really fell for you on my birthday last year, my twenty-eighth."

"The night I found you puking your guts up in an alleyway?" You recall. Funny that he would say that.

"I call it personal growth."

"You kept saying over and over that you thought you were gonna shit yourself between barfing," you remind him. Ripping the sugar coating off his bullshit is always fun for you.

"Like I said: personal growth. Purging myself of toxic build-up and stuff," he says and waves his hand flippantly. "And it must've worked, because you showed up."

"Oh."

You blink. He never delivers praise or appreciation in a way that you can take seriously. But for once, he seems sincere. Not in a cheesy way, and rare enough for you to feel a little self-conscious.

"And you rubbed my back, and convinced me not to strip down naked to shit in the alley," he adds.

"I would have fallen for you anyway," you tell him with a small laugh to try and keep your heart from beating too fast. Part of what you like about your relationship with him is that you don't have to worry about serious feelings and conversations and the anxiety of being misunderstood that comes with them.

"Wait, I thought you already had?" He says, focusing in on you with a sheepish look that you return with a tight-lipped smile. Might as well tell him the truth.

"Well, I mean, I was down to maybe fuck you out of crushing desperation and loneliness before, but seeing you so pathetic that night made me like you - against my better judgement."

He stares at you hard, face showing some kind of strong, unreadable expression. You fend off the urge to laugh, though you do worry that, like him, you're being too honest.

"I mean, it was nice to see you so human. Not schmoozing, not pretending, not calculating. Just suffering for drinking yourself sick," you explain.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, which is slightly concerning. Reigen always has something to say in response to everything, especially when you're being cheeky with him. Ever the menace, he lets your unease simmer just a little more.

"You know, there's something I never told you about that night," he says, making your heart jump and squeeze at the same time. There's no cause for alarm in his voice, but the words still have you anticipating.

"I wasn't drunk."

"Oh, food poisoning. I see," you nod slowly. Perhaps it would've been better for your opinion of his sanity to keep thinking for the rest of your life that he was drunk, but you've had enough experiences with bad sushi to know that stomach viruses can get the best of anybody.

"It could have been," he muses. "But I think I was so disgusted with myself that my body was trying to kill me."

Oh. Wow.

"I remember thinking that I was rotten, that I was rotting on the inside, so much that it was making my head spin. Next thing I knew, I was retching against the brick. It felt like I was going to die and that I deserved to go in such a sorry way."

This is not-

"I swear I even saw the gates into the next life," he laughs at himself to acknowledge that he probably sounds insane. He's well aware that he's known for exaggerating the truth, so he knows better than to expect you to believe him. "And it's not some golden metal rolling gate like in the paintings. That's why it felt so real."

-what you were expecting.

"But even though I felt so disgusting and my body and mind were doing such horrible things to me, I didn't want to go."

Your heart clenches. You never knew that he was capable of feeling like that. The Reigen you know doesn't get affected by anything. Though now it makes sense, that maybe he does and he just ignores it until it wants to kill him.

"Next thing I knew, I felt your hand on my back. It took me a while to hear your voice, but I could feel your thumb moving on my shoulder. It guided me back, and kept me grounded. I don't know if I could've stayed tethered without it."

The way he's speaking, you would think he's always been so open with you. It sounds like he's telling you something mundane and ordinary, and not that you saved his fucking life. You don't really know what to say. You feel like you should be crying, and yet he's not leaving you any room to feel any kind of mournful.

So you simply reach out to him with your hand, holding the side of his face, some stubble scratching against the heel of your palm as you brush a thumb over his cheekbone in such a gentle way that he smiles a little. You're not sure if you've ever looked him in the eye like this before, though it feels familiar. You recall feeling the same way when you dropped him off at his office the night you found him - apprehensive yet curious and completely powerless to whatever it is that compels you to want to be with him.

Maybe you wanted to help him, though he's never asked for it and will act like he doesn't need it. In reality, he hasn't actually needed it. He's surprised you nearly every step of the way with the shit he gets away with. You've come to learn that you don't really need to worry about him in a traditional sense. Yet here he is, telling you that you did indeed help him.

"Be any more vulnerable with me, and I might just fall in love with you for real," you say to him, a playful lilt in your voice that you hope he can read.

He chuckles lightly through his nose, bringing his hand up to cover yours. He mirrors the soft movement of your thumb.

"Can't have that now. That would be terrible," he teases. Even if you both believe it. Even if it's far too late.

"The absolute worst."

You guide your lips to his. He tastes like cigarettes and barbecue chips, and you gave up a long time ago on trying to convince yourself that you hate it. It's always hard to pull away from him, his lips never failing to fit annoyingly in line with yours, but you open your eyes and draw back for a moment. The way your chest feels unfit to contain your heart when you look at him, it makes you desperate to distract yourself with kissing him deeper. However, you try to let the feeling settle rather than fighting or burying it.

"I'm glad you didn't fall for me sooner," he says. "You'd have shit taste."

"I fell for a man who was puking and having an existential crisis in an alleyway in the middle of the night, and you don't think I have shit taste?"

"Nah," he waves off. "That was when I said I'd be better. And that's when I started trying to be better."

"You literally couldn't do anything."

"I didn't throw up on you."

"I-" You stop and sigh. "Thank you for that."

"You're welcome," he responds, smirking like the bastard he is. "If you like that, then you're in for it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, though it's soft and so out of place from his usual way of speaking that it grips you as something harsh would. "Gotta be as good as your thumb felt on my shoulder that night."

You stop it there by pressing into him again for another kiss, more heated to guarantee that you won't have to reveal anything deeper - like maybe you also remember the feel of his shirt under your palm as you brushed your thumb against him that night, hoping that he would feel that you cared about him through the subtle and tender movement.

Maybe there will never be a need to exchange the sentiment in words, for you notice the way his thumbs trace against your skin as he kisses you, or when you sit together on the couch, or when he grabs your hand on the train. You make sure to return the gesture, grounding him, grounding you together.

ADULT CONTENT BLOG - Minors / Ageless & Blank Blogs are allowed to like and comment on this post, but please refrain from reblogging, and ABSOLUTELY DO NOT FOLLOW OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

[cardsbizarreadventure]

I’ve seen a fad where people describe their original character’s personality with a few canon characters from different series.

What characters do you think you could combine to make Joelle?

☆꧁✬◦°˚°◦. ♠ ♣ ♥ ♦ .◦°˚°◦✬꧂☆ Thank you for the ask Mel! It actually took me a good amount of time to even decide upon who would be most fitting to build Joelle. Since she has some of my own self insert in her , but really which oc doesn't? It was kind of hard to decide xD But I think I've managed to collect the ones that are pretty relatable with my character. So here it goes!

Lucy - Elfen Lied If I have to be honest I've never would of thought upon how similar Joelle and Lucy stories are. I was never intending to have so many similarities with this specific characters until recently I stumbled upon a video that made me remember a bit more about the anime and how it played out. Lucy is a very interesting character , born with a 'sickness' ever since she was little kind of reminded me upon Joelle's origin as a pillar both past and present . Lucy has been bullied , barely knew any kind of friends and because of her 'sickness' everyone was after her because what she can cause with her powers , until she stumbled upon one that really liked her for who she was [Kind of gives me the possible Joseph or Rei vibes but without the romantic kind of intent that was implied in the story because Lucy did fall in love with her best friend.] She was brought into a lab to keep away from the outside world and experimented on , until she broke out and was given a chance for a second life regardless of what she had witnessed and did in her youth.

Ren Tao - Shaman King A few aspects that I can collect from Ren are the anger he has built for humanity that really matches with Joelle's story . Because when she ended up in the XPD facility where they did various of experiments on her and basically played her like a toy she began to pile up a lot of anger upon those people creating an image in her head that they were all the same . But after meeting with someone who opened her eyes to the world , she began to have another look upon things and wanted to try and move on and heal but also find a new purpose in life .

Edward Elric - Fullmetal Alchemist When ever I would look at Ed I could actually see a few aspects of Joelle as well , because of his own determination to fix what he has done in the past and return his brother back to his original body , reminds me of how Joelle wants to protect her new family and find a way to stop evil from prevailing . It also gives a pinch of hint upon how him and his brother were trying to bring back their mother , is a similarity upon how Joelle wanted to bring back her own mother but instead she ended up releasing a curse that later on haunts her , the same way Ed and Alphonse tried to bring their mother back and ended up creating a homunculus being. Sadly I haven't watched brotherhood and I really need to , but I'd assume I'd find even more similarities if I do so~. But I do however see a lot of pieces of Ed in Joelle!

Misaki Ayuzawa - Kaichou wa maid-sama This goes a bit on her emotional side to be honest. Misaki is a perfect representation of Joelle , a strong and very responsible individual and yearns for a piece of romance in her life that will assure her that they will stay with them for who they are . A perfect aspect of her Tsundere side because she is very conflicted and very confused when it comes to these sort of things. I absolutely adore her strong character and how she is able to handle so many responsibilities , reminds me upon her current position in the SpeedWagon foundation , a lot fear her because of how she would act and how her attitude just goes across the room, but a good amount also admire her when they get to know her personally and understand her better upon why she is the way she is , that she has a very gentle side to her.

Chise Hatori - Ancient Magus Bride Another little lost soul that was being sold to the world. Chise has always been one of my most favorite characters once I started the anime , the aspects of her that I see in Joelle are the growth she managed to accomplish with herself , she used to have a normal life a happy family , but eventually that turned around when 'dark beings' (which would hint the cults of Hearteater) began to make their way into their life and make it more dangerous to be around , and even the fact that her own 'blood and family' tried to kill her is the hint of her father that almost killed her. [But in the anime it was the mother that tried to.] She eventually ends up in good hands which help her see the world with different eyes and find who she really is and help her discover her own courage and determination that she wants to do better for herself and others around her .

Shigeo Kageyama - Mob Psycho Little little shy Mob~. He was one of my main inspirations if I have to be honest because a lot matched with the two of them. This comes around her more doubtful and shy side. Mob is a perfect representation of both Joelle's moods , when she is sweet and respectful to a menace and a deadly being if they come near their family. Her relationship with Reigen matches with the one me and my friend Mel have with Joelle and Yorie . Let's not forget about how crazy batshid he went when they took his brother away and he was willing to do everything in his powers to save him... but there was also the fire in his house.. now that is basically the next level of Chapter Death in a sense. But for real there are a lot of aspects behind Mob that I connect with Joelle and how her character is displayed~.

Yuuji Itadori - Jujutsu Kaisen Yuji is the aspect of Joelle that exists kind of rare but it's still there , it's her little goofy side , but the amount of love for her friends and family is also there . His determination and courage to protect his new friends is the same as Joelle trying to protect her own regardless of what kind of burden both of them carry that can cause the destruction of the world, even if the the two of them might appear weak to most they would always throw themselves in danger to protect their loved ones , but later one begin to grow in personality and strength . Maybe I can even connect a tad bit Sukuna and Chapter Death because both are the representation of the final stage when the 'scary' takes over and would basically erase your existence . Yuji and His friends remind me a whole lot of Joelle and her own little crew and how each of them help each other and will always be there no matter what. Basically the hero that wants to save everyone and doesn't really care what happens to them , as long as everyone is safe .

Manjiro Sano and Ken Ryuguji - Tokyo Revengers These two go in pair ~. I see a big portion of aspects of the two in Joelle and each of them kind of represent her 'goofy' and her very serious and respect side. Mikey is a bit more laid back and chill but at the same time very scary , a bit how Joelle is in a sense how she can be so calm on certain occasions until she finally snaps and beats the crap of anyone who doubted her and called her 'small and helpless.' This is the aspect I enjoy the most between the two because they underestimate their opponent and then get their ass handed to them , that's how the two kind of go xD. Draken would be maybe her grown up and mature side in a way and the one that keeps things in line when ever there is justice that needs to be served because no one is allowed to hurt their friends and family. Very loyal and determined and even jump down to apologize for their wrongs to try and correct themselves and possibly help their friends understand the situation a little better , unless there is no way out they always try and reason first before jumping into action.

Nezuko Kamado - Demon Slayer / Kimetsu no Yaiba [New Add] I almost forgot!! Honestly I can't forget to include my favorite little goofball . Another little demon that I can see a lot of personality traits and aspects in Joelle as well. Nezuko and Tanjiro are also a good representation of both Jericho and Joelle in a sense because of how strong their bond is beyond anything . I don't want to spoil anything in my current arcs because I want to keep it a surprise since I have a whole lot of things to decide on . Nezuko displays Joelle's very protective side and very caring one as well the side of value she feels towards her surroundings and regardless of being a little 'different' she still is the same person no matter what happens and will never lose her humanity even after being 'cursed'. And even be a little bit of a hint of her sensitive and cute side too regardless that she doesn't show it too often xD.

Saitama - One Punch Man And last but not least , I put him on the bottom because at the beginning when I was creating Joelle I would always think of Saitama and how she was going to play out of sort of a joke that is really powerful and kind of blunt in a sense . But now she has grown so much and has so much potential , story and personality behind her that you can't even imagine! Saitama was maybe my very first inspiration when I created her because for some odd reason I really like OP shid and I mean literally xD. I don't know why but I just do , but regardless of Joelle being kind of OP orientated , later on when I began to play out her story I started to balance her because I wanted her to seem a bit more real other than I just came here to kick your ass and you're dead now lmfao. She still has some funny little aspects of Saitama behind her that's for sure , but she is completely different now and I am super proud of what a long journey she has gone through and grown so much as a character ^ ^. Thank you so much for sending in dear!!I really enjoyed this ask <333!! - Cards

[lunar-lair]

ok say hello to my insanely new oc who ive made entirely to be a villain who is still an excellent adult and a decent parent, probably. cares too much abt kids. think reigen mob psycho with a drop or two of milla. worked under Nick From The Mailroom and was actually in on his scheme.

has always been rather cold and brash towards adults, but is more caring towards kids. in my brain he has a brooklyn type accent? rough and tumble, walks around without a tie, yknow? they keep him cause he sorts mail real good, though.

(added a read more because this got INSANELY LONG AKSKSK i spent like an hr on this h)

he was a delugeionist, but only because he kinda just wanted to rip the world apart a little; lysandre vibes, thinks a lot of it is scum and needs to go. thinks the *psychonauts* are scum and need to go. hes psychic but suppressed it, think aquato parents but extra toxic about it, and straight up just saying being psychic is unnatural. wouldnt go to loboto parent lengths tho. so he adopted that thought of 'being psychic is unnatural and wrong', which contributed to a lot of self hate that was never learned out. likely, he realizes hes a shitty person and thinks he needs to go too. so like...yknow hank, dbh? kinda the vibe im gettin right now. way more formal, of course, and while usually gruff, is more polite when its needed; can and *will* beat the shit out of you verbally in a factual way, though, and can talk more street-lingo if hes talkin to real thugs. (probably winged it on his own after failing college or smth, hes got the vibes.)

anyways, its this plot where he slinks off and starts planting mistrust in the psychonauts or something. and inevitably he just...shows up and starts kidnapping people. dismantling things from the inside and all that. he left and formed a group who also hated psychics at some point, likely friends of his parents and friends of friends, all from his hometown. all of them fight *insanely* dirty, and a lot of them are insanely vulgar. the kids are supposed to be kept away.

but theres a line to follow here.

this man is a fold to raz. hates the psychonauts, hates being psychic, adopted his parent's hate of psychics, hates the *world.* raz is young and unburdened and unjaded...mostly. hes not the shock of water some young characters can be when it comes to being the foils of other characters; think steven with a villain or something, right? but raz is sassy and a little jaded, and not total sunshine positivity.

hes a child this man could look down on and not be immediately annoyed by, who is worried by yet respects raz's realization of the world as it is, however little that is.

and yet raz is still his foil. he still mostly loves the psychonauts, despite it all, he loves being psychic, for the most part, he dodged adopting his parents previous values, he still seems to have an even view of the world as a whole.

raz is jaded, if only a little, but he moved past it and accepted that things could still be bright. this man is jaded, but he stayed in his stormclouds, never looked for the sun.

ok where. was i. RIGHT ok so. at the beginning of this...story? the man finds raz being talked down to by one of the office workers; someone with weak psychic powers whos insanely jealous of his prowess. an adult who envies the young prodigy. and theyre giving him some insane task to do, like cleaning all of the closets within the hour, but hes saved the world twice, so he smiles and nods along, because he said he would help around the motherlobe, and this adult is asking him to do something that seems simple enough.

and this guy, internally, goes 'bitch.' for a good long second bc 1. dude even if you envy a kid, kinda fucked to show that?? not their fault 2. WHY are you asking a 10 year old to do that. why is there a 10 year old here. holy shit thats a 10 year old oh my god hes so tiny (no one told him there was a 10 year old because they knew hed stomp right up to management but. regardless. he is going to stomp up to management after this and no one can really stop him. except maybe raz well see)

so yknow. dude fixes his slight slouch and walks forward and politely tells this woman that 1. hes 10 why are you jealous of him and 2. hes 10????????? and shes like shit hes 10. and apologizes. and walks away

and raz is VERY ?? bc she was doing what? why is him being 10 important? and its that young part of you that gets pissed when people try to keep you from doing things because youre young and hes DEFINITELY yet to learn that piling responsibilites that should be handled by adults onto a child is fucked up in its own special way (looking at you ford, *nick*)

and the dude calmly explains because yea. he gets that. and he still sounds gruff and a little peeved but he squats down to razs height and he talks simply and factually, telling him straight on why it isnt right.

and. huh. people dont really do that for raz. except for sasha, sometimes, everyone likes to dodge the truth a lot with him, because hes 10, and sometimes, hes too nice to tug it out of them.

and this guy, this man that raz is already polishing a trophy for 'good adulting' in the back of his brain with his striking statements about how adults should handle things and kids should-kids should...get to have fun. not be traumatized.

for the shock on his face when raz said hed already saved the world a couple times, whats some closets. he reigned it in, said that its weird he saved the world, because thats usually their jobs.

and this guy offers his hand on instict before he stands up, even though he doesnt seem very sweet and kind like the adults that usually offer raz a hand. and he takes it, i think. he takes it.

warm. warm, a little nice.

reminds raz of his dad, maybe. he wonders if this man has any kids himself, but keeps his mouth shut, because he thinks he already has the answer, and its yes.

(he doesnt have any. he would wish he did, but he knows hed fail to raise them right.)

and when he stands, he asks raz what he was asking that woman for, and he says hes doing tasks around the motherlobe because his papers are still coming in. the man doesnt ask. (he knows what 'papers' means, realizes this is the tiny junior psychonaut every room in the damn place has been buzzing about, and he has fucking words for forsythe.) he just offers for the kid to sort mail under his supervision.

and that sounds boring. at least, it usually would.

this man is interesting, and a good...person? a good adult? hes...hes new. hes new, and calm, and a little like sasha but a lot not, and he thinks he trusts him.

so raz grins and says yea, mail sorting sounds nice.

(debatably, raz does not take his hand. hes too jaded when it comes to adults. debatably, he does not feel any warmth from this man who has taught him every adult has been telling him wrong. debatably, im projecting. but thats the whole point of ocs, hm?)

and then holes crop up in motherlobe systems. people are kidnapped.

raz keeps seeing the strange man, keeps telling him things, keeps hearing back, gruff and factual and a little annoyed, but raz can almost-just-barely tell its not at him, with the way he talks.

he can tell. he can tell.

he can never tell. this man is making sure he can tell.

raz trusts the man, is still polishing that trophy for 'best adulting' he has settling in the back of his mind.

and then the man comes with a militia.

he did not seem jaded. he did not seem hateful. he never showed any anger or hate towards raz.

but thats because he knows kids dont deserve it.

an excellent moral or two. a rotten, broken heart.

and at first, they keep the kids away, because these people fight dirty, because this isnt their battle, because the man has been sending emails about why 15 year olds are in a secret psychic agency.

(he does not mention raz. by razs second visit, he had just marked the boy down as another reason to hate the psychonauts as a whole, and especially its higher ups.

hes also regretting his alliance to nick by about the third. if he had known the man would puppet a child as if they were a toy, he would have organized his own rebellion ages ago.)

but eventually, the psychonauts need all hands on deck.

they send the children to find the missing agents.

the interns are fought on the way. some of them avoid the child, know the boss would pummel them.

they get to the base, and the strange man, the one with the broken trophy for 'best adult' (still barely-polished, because hes still so sure) still nestled in the back of razs brain, is still there.

the junior psychonauts are spotted. one of the guards throws a few rocks aimlessly.

they surprise them. one almost hits raz.

its intercepted instead.

and the other junior psychonauts watch as this man, their enemy, a villain, in their eyes, reprimands the other man for even accidentally daring, for even trying. for doing something they might have done just a month or so ago, if they had decided he was too much weirder than they already had.

and he yells something like, "Why the hell is he even here?! This is an enemy base, of whats a rebellion! This is a *10 year old*! What kind of adult sends a child *near* something like that?!" and he truly sounds angry this time, raz finds. hes too angry to keep it in. he still sounds gruff and oddly proper. raz is standing there, arms hanging. hes baffled in a specific way, the way he was every time the man's brow furrowed when he mentioned a harrowing story, the way he was the first day they met.

and he asks, a little quiet, a little small, a reminder of how young he really is, "Why are you still trying to keep me safe? We're supposed to be enemies now."

And his brow furrows further before flattening out, and he tilts onto one leg, and he swears he almost kneels to a knee.

He cant believe it. He really cant.

"You're 10." he says simply, softly, that factual way. "You shouldn't even be here."

and raz pauses. the interns freeze.

"...well, here I am."

and i think...it would be so intriguing if this was done halfway out of the mind, because this man is so against anything psychic. it would be so *compelling.*

so raz steps forward and asks again, asks why hes doing this.

and the mans eyes harden, he tries to turn off that soft heart, trying to remind himself of all that he hates. because he hates the psychonauts, because he sort of hates the world.

and raz asks why he could ever hate the psychonauts, head tilted, before listing off the few he knows to be true. but other than that, how? and ok, the world sucks a little, yea, hes seen that, gets that.

and he appreciates that this kid isnt totally gung ho about existence.

but he hates that he isnt, too.

and its this back and forth. everything the man hates, why he hates it. raz saying why its good but admitting why its bad.

and hes swayed, just a little.

but the man stands up from the kneel hed inevitably instinctively put himself into, and walks forward, hand held out yet again.

"You shouldn't be in the Psychonauts," he tells him, soft, factual, brow furrowed. "Come with me. I'll bring you back to your parents, or wherever it is you want to go."

raz contemplates. thinks, for a long moment.

he grabs the mans hand, warm and firm, yet again, for a terrifying moment.

before he reaches up to slap a mental door on his forehead, and astral projects into it.

he thinks this man is good. thinks hes just jaded.

thinks hes the best adult hes ever met, one who just happens to hate a lot of things.

hes only 10.

hes not letting someone who can tell him so clearly whats wrong and right for adults to tell him go that easily.

aaaand yknow. raz does his razzy thing. learns about why the guy hates the world and the psychonauts and himself. helps him learn that its not all bad, that he was excellent to raz, and still is, that things can be bad and good all at once.

the man concedes that raz is very capable, very smart, and can do a lot. but that doesnt mean he should have to.

raz tells him, though, that he likes working for the psychonauts. its his dream. and he realizes some things he was told to do were kinda screwed up, now. that maybe, in honesty, he was dealt a bad hand.

but hes done what he can with that hand, and he ended up with a royal flush.

and uh! yknow!! then raz leaves his mind and he calls off the rebellion! its like a rhombus of ruin type adventure, except without the villain being present beforehand. its just not clustered in insanely close with a ton of other wild shit.

anyways this got really long? sorry?? its an oc i just saw good adult and slight father vibe potential in the vibe i instantly got on him and then i went feral???? rip maybe someone will read this and if you did. congrats i honestly really liked how the whole foil and good-yet-bad and consideration of raz being 10 thing worked out. this oc is almost like our representative in the psychonauts world the way reigen is for the audience in mp100. yea :) i match them up a lot but thats just cause they vibe a lot. anyways its 1:40 am now and i spent abt an hour on this hope it vibed mildly byeeee

[androidemotions]

mp100 wip | ~ 5000 words | Teru POV | terumob + Reigen & Teru |  set in a fight with unknown espers, Teru struggles with mortaltiy, while Mob struggles to save him

-

"You have to let me go!"

He could see them charging the blast out of the corner of his eye and knew they couldn't last like this.

If Shigeo didn't focus on shielding himself, he would simply be shot out of the sky.

"Let me go or you're gonna die!" he screamed urgently at the boy suspended unnaturally among the clouds. Shigeo only stared, those ever intense eyes trained on him, teeth bared. His refusal unspoken but still palpable, just like the electricity in the air. They were trying to kill him.

It was a miracle on its own that the power blocking move had not worked on Shigeo entirely. But of course, miracles were Mob's average. But there was no way he would survive this, still holding onto Teruki. Miracle or not.

Mob wasn't holding him up with his powers. Teru may not have psychic energy at the moment— the move had it’s intended effect on him— so he couldn't sense Shigeo's energy like he always could. Even from great distances he could always feel him humming with power, it was unsettling to lack that feeling, especially so close. But still, he could tell the boy was only holding him by the iron grip on his wrist.

The tell-tale feeling of your body being held up by tiny cushions of power wasn't there. Instead, the whole of his weight was suspended by his arm. And his shoulder hurt, hurt, hurt. But only in the back of his mind was he aware of that. He could see Mob physically straining, and feel his grip tighten every time his sweat-slicked hand started to slip.

Teru couldn't overpower him in a psychic opposition. Especially not right now. But Mob wasn't holding him up with his powers.

For a moment it was like the world narrowed to only them and in a moment of clarity, knowing exactly what he had to do, Teru reached up with his free arm and grasped onto Mob's hand on his wrist.

Methodically, he started to pry those starch fingers away from his skin. He could feel himself slipping. He couldn't look away from Shigeo, even as the boy above him looked almost furious, eyes brimming with rage. Wait, no, maybe that was fear. Teru wasn't quite sure, even as he fell and Mob started to shrink from his view, oh, so quickly.

Still, falling like this, he felt an odd sense of calm. Either he would regain some of his powers before he hit the ground or he wouldn't. Still, either way, Shigeo would live.

What he didn't expect was to stop after few seconds of falling, coming to a painful halt.

It felt like he'd been dropped on the pavement but he was alive and he didn't think he'd broken anything. Yet he couldn't move, having been grabbed out of the air with someone's psychic powers as an iron fist. He was rising again and when Shigeo came into view he was shaking as he still had his hand reaching down in Teru's direction.

The moment of calm, probably very poor clarity, and maybe extremely bad judgement, was long broken, but it was then that all hell broke loose.

He stops falling suddenly once more. And once more, its not the ground that catches him. This time he can feel that familiar power. The unique aura that Mob has is holding him up. This time, its careful and unpanicked and he knows this is because Mob is at his full power.

A blast cuts through the air like a knife, deafening him as he sees Shigeo flung away like he's nothing more than an errant fly. The other boy goes careening through the clouds until Teru can't see him anymore. And he screams. Screams something. Has no idea what, barely even can hear himself to his muted ears as he screams for Shigeo. They were both falling now.

He's lifted again until he's level with the other boy and blinding star bursts of light explode around the espers attacking them, immense untamable energy hums through the air. And Teru feels his pulse beating staccato through the red handprint on his wrist, along with the thrumming in his ears. The flashes of power are dazzling but he finds his eyes going back to Shigeo and sees the boy suspended limply in the air. Eyes open slightlessly, wide and glowing as energy whipped around him and cast him in shadow. He's unconscious.

Teruki can only stare as their assailants are destroyed and cast back down to earth. He has no doubt, however, that Mob managed to leave them alive as he always did with humans, even while unconscious. Espers were never easy to kill, either.

They drift back to the ground with ease and once Teru is steady on his feet his picks his way past rubble over to Shigeo where he stays hovered just above the ground. His eyes are unsettlingly empty; Teru still doesn't look away, just watches and waits for him to wake up, clutching onto his inflamed shoulder all the while.

It's ironic. Right now when Mob is waking up from his unconscious explosion, he drifts back down to earth instead of getting up. He reaches out to steady him as he settles. He remembers how he lead the floating Kageyama back to his apartment by his hand, like a balloon on a string.

Then Teru is sitting down next to his shoulder, carefully balancing on his good arm and keeping his other still. His shoulder pounds a pulse beat as he feels the wrongness there. It must be dislocated. He reaches his hand back to it instinctively once he's settled and stares out at the destruction from their fight all around them. It's quiet, peaceful.

He glanced down to find Shigeo's eyes open staring mournfully up at the sky.

"Welcome back, Kageyama-kun," he says, trying for a smile.

"What did I do?" He asks blankly, eyes focused on nothing. "I can't remember."

"You saved me," is all Teru says, its simple. It's the truth.

For reasons he can't quite fathom, Kageyama’s eyes are welling up with tears now. There's nothing he can say and Teruki wishes the cinematic parallels to their first fight would just stop.

Shigeo starts to shift away from him, curling up on himself, lying on his side. And Teru knows nothing he can do to help. He hesitates for a moment as the boy sobs into his hands, then he falls forward, sort of half lying on him in his best attempt at a hug as he keeps his useless arm at his side while clutching at Shigeo's T-shirt with the other. He buries his nose in his shoulder and tries to muster a sadness to match Mob's but can only find fury that he can't do anything to fix it. And exhaustion. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forehead against him like he might could bore his head into him and seep the sadness out of him like a sponge. They were alive, that had to count for something.

"We're ok!" He reminds him desperately. He clenches his teeth as Shigeo’s sobs continue on with shuddering breaths shaking his shoulder beneath Teru's head.

Then the boy is shifting and his shirt, still held fast in Teru's fist, is twisting around his abdomen. Arms are wrapping around Teru's head and shoulder as Mob presses his tear soaked face into his hair and cries.

He stays folded on himself and in Shigeo's grasp, hand held tight onto his shirt, needing something solid.

"We're ok," he repeats.

---

In the end it’s Shigeo's master that gets him to the hospital.

Ritsu is the one who finds them, trained in on his brother like a bloodhound. So, they're found not too long after falling from the sky. And Reigen is in tow, sprinting frantically after the esper boy zipping around with telekinesis.

The swelling of his shoulder probably was easy to spot, but the twist of pain on his face likely even easier. They go to Mob first, which Teru understands entirely. Ritsu quickly hugs his brother before staring on about questions of 'who did this' and 'where are they Nii-san'. while Reigen hands him a a handkerchief for his tears, asking if he's hurt. And checking him over for injuries even after the shake of his head. Teru sits with his knees curled up and injured arm held close and careful by his body. He watches as Reigen brushes Mob's hair back to check for head injuries while Ritsu stays tensely by his side and wonders if this burning feeling means he's jealous or grateful that Mob has people who so genuinely care for him. Family. Maybe he feels both.

With no warning, the attention is turned to him. And he's supposed to be used having all eyes on him, has reveled in it, in fact, but right now he's caught off guard. His wound is easy to see so there's no real need to ask, he thinks.

"What happened?" Reigen asks soberly as they look to him. Oh, that must be why they're focused on him now. They need the story.

He starts to explain, brows furrowed as he tries to relay it all as best he can, "They ambushed us, and then they stripped me of my power and I couldn't do anything, Mob had to—" Reigen cuts him off with a wave of his hand as if brushing it all aside.

"No, don't worry about any of that right now." He tells him seriously, looking him in the eye. "You can tell us about that later. What happened to your arm? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

He hates the way his face crumples at the concerned words and all he can think is 'why bother crying now?' Don’t cry when they're looking at you. Don't show weakness. But he can't stop the well tears, even as he tries to blink them away. He swipes his good hand across his face quickly, trying to recover his composure and keep his voice steady, "My shoulder is dislocated," he admits miserably.

"Anywhere else hurt?" Reigen asks and all Teru can answer with this time is a shake of his head. He feels small and venerable— not for the first time. But its overwhelming to have someone trying to take care of him, that, he has not experienced in a long while.

Still, Shigeo's master leans over and brushes a hand across his head as he checks for injuries.

"Your nose is bleeding, does that hurt?" Reigen raises a concerned eyebrow at him and Teru reaches up to touch just above his lip and strangely enough finds it to be damp, pulling his fingers away to find deep crimson stained on their tips.

"I didn't even notice."

"Hm," Reigen simply nods with a frown and turns back to Mob, Teru barely hears what he asks him as he marvels how he didn't notice his nose bleeding. Then he's turning back to him, the handkerchief returned from Mob, "Sorry I don't have another, but you can use this and don't tilt your head back, let the blood drain out."

He nods and does as told, the cloth is not even damp, he thinks most of Mob's tears and snot must be in his hair. That's sort of funny.

"You think you can walk?" Reigen asks, still holding his crouch in front of him, hands braced on his knees.

"I can carry you," Ritsu offers quickly.

Teru shakes his head though. "No, I can walk." He answers readily.

Reigen nods and pushes himself to stand up before holding a hand down for Teru.

He looks at the hand, then up at the man offering it. He isn't entirely sure he trusts him. He admires him, just from having seen him in action that night at Claw and knows if he's Mob's master he must be someone good. But he's also an adult. And the way Teru sees it, adults either want to control you, and see you put into your place. Or, they abandon you. And they don't look back. The problem is, he wants so badly for an adult to see worth in him, especially someone good like Shigeo's master. But his brain is warning him he's only going to have his trust broken.

So be he hesitates, but in the end he takes his hand. He could use the help, he just hopes he isn't let down. Reigen holds him steady while he gets his legs under him without the use of his other arm. Then "You can lean on me if you need to ok?" The man offers.

"I can still lift both of you if you need," Ritsu adds, watching his movements sharply.

"Just let us know if you need help," Reigen decides.

He nods to acknowledge the words but Teru doesn't really ask for help. He watches as Ritsu helps Shigeo to his feet now. Their eyes catch as he stands and Teru takes the chance to study his face while Mob watches him in return.

"We just need to walk to the road then I can get us a car," Reigen says, clapping his hands together lightly, "hopefully," he adds under his breath.

Theres a small cut on the other boy's cheek that seems to have stopped bleeding already and one of his eyes is beginning to swell. His eye catches on the smear of blood on the shoulder of Shigeo’s dirty, roughed-up t-shirt where Teru had pressed his face into the fabric.

"I have to go find those guys," Ritsu declares dangerously.

Ritsu looks at his brother, brows furrowed, "Nii-san, I can go find them so they won't just get away," he offers more evenly.

"You need to stay with your brother," Reigen counters easily.

Shigeo shakes his head solemly, "... stay with us. Please, Ritsu."

"... Okay."

"Now," reigen says, stepping behind them to steer them forward gently. "Let's get you two to the hospital. I'll make sure nobody falls behind, Ritsu why don't you take the lead."

Little brother nods seriously as he walks up front, glancing back every now and then, while Reigen walks a few paces behind them.

Teruki glances over to Shigeo beside him. He looks tired, but Teru can't quite tell if he still feels all that despair he'd shown earlier. His gaze falls back to the blood stain on his shoulder. And he thinks of being curled up beside him. He thinks of trying to find some way to assuage all that pain.

Any and all risks Teru takes are calculated. When you see him fight he may not seem it, but he's careful. And he's always taking in information. So even if every move he makes might be a gamble, its one he knows he'll win. All his choices are careful and safe, except for when it comes to Kageyama Shigeo, apparently.

He starts to reach out, their hands are close as they walk side by side. and its easy to brush pinkies. He sees Mob's eyes flit down to their hands and then back ahead of them. And Teru honestly has no idea what he's thinking. What he might do. If he'll pull away, or brush closer. He does neither of those things though, simply keeps his hand where it is and walks. Teru takes another risk. He brushes his fingers past his palm and slots their hands together.

Mob blinks, misses a step and almost trips as he looks down at their hands. Then he's looking back up at him with wide eyes, and Teru waits for the backlash.

It doesn't come. Shigeo simply looks back down at his feet carefully studying their steps. And, he holds Teru's hand.

---

Their palms get sweaty and Shigeo starts to swing their hands stiffly between them like he doesn't know what he's meant to do. And Teruki feels like their hands were made to fit together.

Teru isn't exactly certain what information Reigen wrote on his sign-in form. He remembers answering a few questions for him, but recalls nothing about his parents.

The man is sat in a chair beside him in the hospital room now, idly flipping through a magazine. Teru is on the bed, his arm resting in a sling. They gave him pain medication and plan to release him in a few hours. But for now its just waiting, and stillness. He stares down at the spider web crack running across his phone screen, minimal damage considering what they'd been through.

"How ya feeling?" Reigen asks out of the blue, still looking at the magazine.

"Fine," he answers simply. The man is setting the magazine aside then, open-face on the small bedside table, focused on Teru now.

"That's one hell of a bruise."

He blinks and looks down at the purpling mark in the vague shape of a hand holding onto his wrist.

"Yeah," he agrees blankly.

"Wanna talk about it?" The question takes him off guard and he actually looks over at Reigen now. He looks serious; Teru considers it. He shrugs, feeling a slight twinge in his shoulder as he does.

"Mob did that?" He wonders, seeming concerned.

"Kageyama-kun just had to grab me." Something about Reigen's expression seems to sharpen at that.

"He had to, he saved me from falling."

"But he didn't catch you with his powers?"

"The power blocking, they had—" he starts, feeling impatient at having to explain this again.

"Oh, right, of course," Reigen nods, recalling.

It's silent for a moment again as he looks back down at his phone and traces the crack once more. For some reason he keeps talking, "I tried to save him too, but I couldn't."

"What do you mean?"

"When he had me I knew he couldn't protect himself if he was holding me so I tried to get him to let me go."

The room is dead silent then for a long moment. He looks over at Reigen after it goes on for too long, having expected a response.

He finds the man staring at him intently, eyes wide and horrified, "You did what?" He demands.

"I tried to save him," he clarifies but for some reason he's starting to feel guilty.

"You tried to throw yourself into a river to be someone else’s raft. That stuff doesn't work."

"He could have died trying to protect me!" He bites back feeling sick to his stomach at the thought.

"And you could have died from the fall!" Reigen responds, leaning towards him, looking furious.

"Why does that matter!?" He demands.

Reigen moves to perch on the bed beside his legs. He looks at him seriously, voice gentler now as he speaks, "you matter."

"Because you matter!" Reigen tells him sharply standing quickly, and Teru goes still with shock. "You matter! You're alive and you've got your whole life ahead of you. You don't just throw that away. You've got people who care about you and people who will down the line. Don't. throw. that. away." Teru wants to shrink away from the words. He stares up at the man and tears well up in his eyes.

Teruki had always lived a world that moved as game chips. Useful, well-liked pieces were kept, while unnecessary or threatening pieces were discarded. In the past he told himself he was an important piece because of his powers. One that could move other pieces as he liked. Then Mob came along and he wasn't so important anymore. 

Which was ok, really, if he didn't have to be special. It was ok that he wasn't perfect. Right? But he was just another piece then. Disposable. This Master Reigen seemed to think otherwise. That he had worth simply for being alive. Tears were streaming down his face but he wasn't quite sure when he had started crying.

A hand was on his shoulder, his uninjured one. "If Mob was trying to save you, don't try to take that choice from him." He continued sincerely, then sighed, "You're both alive and well, and that's what matters."

"Where is he?" Teru asks in a broken voice, too overwhelmed to be worried about seeming weak and getting choked up.

"He should be out of treatment soon or already is out." Reigen spoke, patting Teru's shoulder twice before standing from the bed and walking to the bathroom. "Do you want me to try and find him?" He asks, voice drifting out from the open door of the bathroom as he opens some cabinet drawers.

He steps back out with a roll of toilet paper, setting it down on the bed just next to Teru. He grabs it, wordlessly grateful for the immediate chance to wipe his face. He removes a length of it and sets the roll back down next to his phone. Something occurs to him.

"Did you have them call my parents?"

"No." Reigen answers simply moving to lean against the wall.

"But— how did you sign me in then?" He looks at him, bewildered.

"I said that I was your guardian." He responds like it makes the all the sense in the world and Teru balks.

"Why would you do that?" He demands.

Reigen considers him and Teru envies the way he keeps his demeanor his so unaffected even when he's being challenged.

"Mob told me you live alone and I have no idea what your relationship with your parents are like. And this way we don't have to wade thought the bullsh— the muck of trying to explain what happened before you get treatment."

That all... made sense.

"Want me to call them now?

He shakes his head quickly. Something else occurs to him, "You're paying for this?"

The man's mouth quirked in a smile, "Of course, I'm your dad now, aren't I?"

He couldn't help but snort at that. "Yeah... right."

---

Reigen had disappeared to talk to the front desk about payment but in his absence he'd sent Shigeo and Ritsu to keep him company in his room.

"Hey, Hanazawa," Ritsu spoke as he entered the room first, pushing the door open with Shigeo trailing just behind him.

"Hanazawa-kun," his older brother spoke, stepping out from beside him to stand just next to his bed as he looked him over intently. "How is your arm?"

Teru found himself smiling, "Hi, kageyama-kun and little brother. My arm is fine. Or at least it will be."

Mob nodded stiffly, examining the floor in great detail now. Teru was still focused only on him, concern knitting his brows when Ritsu spoke up.

"I'm gonna get get some water, anybody want some?" The door squeaked open as he spoke and both of them looked over to see him halfway out the door already, looking at them expectantly.

"I'm ok," Teru spoke and glanced at Mob's perplexed expression, adding, "We're ok."

Ritsu simply nodded and then he was gone, door slipping shut behind him. That was a little odd.

"Why didn't he get water before we came in here?" Mob wonders softly.

"Maybe he actually had to take a shit and didn't want to admit it?" Teru offered as explanation.

The line between Shigeo's brows deepened as he put a hand to his chin and considered this carefully, then, "maybe," he decided doubtfully.

Teru smiled at his serious expression but it started to fade as the worry on Mob's expression didn't ease.

"There are chairs if you want—"

Shigeo cut him off, which was a rarity in itself, "Can I see?"

"See what?"

"You arm." Teru tensed at the grave demeanor he was carrying, but shifted the arm in the sling towards him with no hesitance, so he could get a better look. Slowly, Shigeo reached a hand towards his, eyes focused on the purple bruise wrapped around his wrist.

Fingers brushed the discolored skin there with a feather light touch. Teru dared not move feeling like anything would startle this fragile moment, as if Mob might startle off like an injured animal. Which was ironic considering Teru was the hurt animal in this situation. Maybe Shigeo was feeling the same way towards him.

"Does it hurt?" The words were soft and Teru let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"No, not right now."

The hand lingered there for a long moment and he could only guess what was in Shigeo's head. But that wasn't enough for him.

"What are you thinking?" He wonders, barely above a whisper.

Dark eyes flit up to him, then back down. His hand moves away incrementally, no longer touching, but fingers still arrayed around his skin. "I... think I might could help heal you. But I don't want to mess it up," he supplied quietly, "And make it worse."

"You can try it," he answered immediately, trusting him entirely. "It’s just a bruise, so its not like you'll be trying to mend bone or something," he reasoned after the fact.

Shigeo hesitated for just a moment longer before a soft white glow started to emit from his hand held around Teru's wrist.

The feeling of it was hard to pin down, the power felt warm, uncomfortably so, almost like his body was running too hot just under the skin. And pinpricks were buzzing where the damaged blood vessels knitted themselves back together. It felt unnatural, but Teru kept himself still and let him work. When Mob did pull his hand away, he could see that the bruise was still visible in a few dark purpled spots and the rest faded to the brown of an old bruise. Like it had healed unevenly. Interesting.

"How does it feel?" Shigeo asked and when Teru glanced at him he could see the nervous tension around the boy's eyes.

He poked one of the brown places experimentally, nothing, "It feels better," he spoke, looking up to turn a smile on the other boy. In response, Shigeo’s shoulders relaxed incrementally as he took a step back to collapse into one of the chairs situated next to the bed. Teru relaxed back into his pillows in turn, still keeping his eyes on the other boy. As he settled into the chair, Mob curled in on himself, looking down at his hands as he twisted them together in his lap.

"Thank you, Kageyama-kun," he spoke sincerely, trying to calm whatever distressing thoughts he might be having.

"Why did you do it?" He asked in response, getting right to the thick of it.

Teru swallowed, "Do what?"

When Mob looked up at him his eyes were shining again and this time it was Teru who was staring down at his hands, unable to look at him.

"Why did you make me let you go?"

"I was trying to save you," he spoke, voice thick and nervous.

"You were hurting me," Shigeo responded simply and at those words Teruki's head snapped back up to look at him. The expression he wore was hard to parse and it was all Teru could do to hold his gaze, like whatever feeling was in his eyes was burning him just from looking at it. "I wasn't going to let you fall. But you just kept falling."

Teru froze at that, he hadn't thought of it from Mob's perspective, he'd watched him fall three times and three times he caught him, but the third he hadn't even been awake to see. His eyes drifted back down to his hands, curled instinctually around his phone and its dark, cracked screen.

"I didn't want you to get hurt protecting me," he said so softly and right now he couldn't bring himself to say 'die' when Mob had been so close to it and had seen him stray too close to it as well.

"I didn't. We're both still here."

"We are," he agrees brokenly, feeling like he's drowning in the smallest puddles.

"I'm always going to save you if I can. Please don't try to stop me." He requests. And Teru stares at his reflection in a cracked phone screen, face screwed up as tears well in his eyes. "Please, don't do that again," Shigeo asks of him once more and Teru can's speak as a drop of water lands on the reflective surface of his screen, another joins it as they run down the side and one seeps into the crack. He nods.

"Okay," he chokes out in agreement, managing to turn and look up at him. Mob has tear streaks running down his cheeks to match Teru's and he can't help but reach out his good hand towards him. Mob obliged him, standing and stepping towards the bed, and with no prompting he leans down to hug him. His arms are gently draped around him, as if he's trying to only barely be there. Teru holds onto him with his one arm as tight as he can.

"We're ok," Mob says, an echo of Teru's words earlier.

"We're ok," he repeats.

---

"He's just out in the hallway," Mob comments looking bewildered.

"Really?" Teru wonders, Shigeo had scooted his chair closer now and was allowing him to hold his hand. Though Mob had asked Teru if he was doing it right at first.

"Yes, he doesn't seem to be doing anything," he glanced up at Teru curiously, "can you sense him?"

"Maybe if I focused on him."

"Do you have your powers back yet?"

"I haven't tried yet," he admitted with a shrug. He could sense Mob's power again though, emanating from him like warmth from a radiator. Though there was really no telling if that spoke to the strength of his own power or the strength of Mob's. And Mob's psychic aura tended to drown out others, or at least Teruki was more tuned in to it than others. Maybe if he worked at it he could sense past the hum of power beside him into the hall where Ritsu was, but he had no real need or desire to. Instead he focused on his phone. It lifted easily and orbited in the air. He turned to look at Shigeo. "They're back."

Mob nodded, then gently tugged his hand away, quickly wiping it on his pants, "Sorry, my hand was sweaty," he spoke, but kept his hand in his lap. Teru quashed down his disappointment and nodded in return.

"Do you know how they did it?"

Mob's dark eyes shine in the cold lights as he looks at him from under his bangs.

"Did what?"

"The power blocking move."

“Not really,” he said, eyes still focused on Teru intently.

“What did it feel like to you? You still had some of your powers,” he points out, always wanting to know more.

Mob hesitates, staring down to study his hands in his lap before he answers, “strange... Like I was muffled.”

“It stopped working on you completely when you passed out,” Teru observed, already hypothesizing. It seemed to have some connection to the conscious mind, and they knew it was temporary.

“Maybe you have to be thinking about it,” Mob wondered.

Teru lit up at that, “you mean like perception block in your mind?”

Shigeo blinked at him, “maybe,” he agreed mildly, clearly not undestanding, but Teru smiled at him anyway, Mob may have figured out more than he knew, he’d have to work on this.

[uci-fanfic-requests]

Idk if u already wrote this but uh how about a mp100 crossover? Like maybe the escorts end up crossing paths with Regien and mob, and mob tries to exercise them. Do u think exorcisms would work on the escorts?!?!?

Admin Notes: Get ready, wake your psyche up, MOB! Ever since I read the bonus chapter for the UCI manga, I’m not actually sure exorcisms wouldn’t work on the escorts. With them calling themselves “bakemono” and all... anyways! -Admin Hirahara

“Now listen, Mob,” Reigen said, giving his signature suit one last dust off as the two entered an amusement park that had cleared out for the day. “This should just be a small fry poltergeist, but don’t be too distracted just because we’re at an amusement park, okay?” When Reigen first heard of the job to exorcise something haunting a roller coaster, he didn’t really want to take it. It sounded... well. Lame. And the pay wasn’t all that great either, but Mob, being the middle schooler that he was, seemed to really look forward to it. I want to go to an amusement park, his eyes seemed to say. So Reigen decided to be a good guy and take the job, asking for some tickets instead.

Mob, who was just thrilled to see an amusement park, really wasn’t entirely focused on the exorcism part of the job. If he did a good job, he and his friends could hang out the rest of the day to play some amusement park games and ride some amusement park rides. I’m going to do a good job today. Besides, Reigen said that the poltergeist here was just a little one.

The first stop in the amusement park search was the fun house. Reigen explained it that when it came to places like this, the cliche thing would be for the ghosts to hide in a house of mirrors or some clown house. But before Mob even set foot in the place, he thought he felt a strong presences elsewhere - two strong presences elsewhere. He would question Reigen about his decision, but his teacher knew best about these things. So he followed inside, despite his instincts telling him he should have stuck around outside.

“I always thought fun houses were kind of over the top,” Reigen began saying, as the two ventured through the twisty hallways and down some slides. “We’re already in an amusement park, so you would think the thrill comes from the rides. Oh well.” The man talked pretty nonchalantly, and Mob could understand why. The presence he was sensing within the colorful labyrinth was much weaker than the ones that were still roaming outside. Their first glimpse of the purple ghost was when Mob fell into one of the ball pits and grabbed onto the first thing in his reach - the ghost’s tail.

“Hey, you caught it, look at that,” Reigen whistled, putting his hands on his hips. It would be pretty easy for Mob to exorcise, since he already had a grip. But just as he was about to increase his power to perform a fatal blow, the ghost slipped away and immediately flew outside the fun house. “After it!” Reigen declared, first pulling Mob out of the ball pit before starting the chase.

The good news was that, with the park empty and the purple ghost standing out, Mob was very clearly able to follow the poltergeist with his vision. The bad news was now he was convinced that there was definitely two other... ghosts. Or something. Also in the park, and that meant if he lost sight of this little one, it might hide it’s energy and go undetected against the strong ones.

The pair of exorcists chased after the ghost through a lot of the rides - around a merry-go-round, along the tracks of a train ride, and even up on a ferris wheel. But Reigen and Mob finally managed to get it cornered at the entrance of a roller coaster ride. The ghost, who was clearly panicking, suddenly turned to Mob and began speaking.

“Listen, you have to help me out here!” It suddenly exclaimed, surprising both Mob and Reigen. “I know I did some bad stuff, but they really set the top brass out for me!”

“Oh, we’re top brass?” Reigen asked, looking pretty proud of himself. He was clearly thinking of a way to slap that on his website as a marketable point. But the ghost immediately shot him down.

“No, not you two,” the ghost groaned. “They sent people from Enma’s special branch-” but the ghost didn’t exactly get a chance to finish.

“Found it!!” A yell came from the top of the roller coaster arch. When looking up, Mob could see there were two figures standing there - the two stronger presence that he had felt. One of them suddenly leapt down from the tracks, swinging what looked like a shovel downward. The impact of the sharp edge hitting the ghost square on the head made it... well, explode. The person, despite having jumped from such a high point, got to his feet like it was nothing, wiping some of the purple slime off himself. 

“Ha ha ha! What’s this stuff? It totally blew up!” Mob observed this man to have a green military uniform and strikingly yellow eyes. He was unlike any ghost the boy had ever seen, and yet he was still unconvinced that this militant man was actually human. The other figure jumped down as well, this one swinging a pickaxe around.

“...You made a mess,” the other man - this one with lazy orange eyes - stated, looking at the ground. “We were supposed to ‘capture’ it, not destroy it.”

“Yeah, but it was up to no good,” the yellow eyed man replied with a laugh. The other just mumbled something about ‘this is going in the reports’ before giving a sign and staring Mob directly in the eyes. From the expression, it would appear that these two strangers were, for the first time, seeing that Mob and Reigen were right there.

“...” Mob stared back, not exactly sure what he should say. First off, they weren’t humans. So should he exorcise them? But they did take care of the other ghost, so maybe they weren’t bad ghosts. But... if something was haunting the amusement park, wouldn’t it have been more probable that it was these two? While he was thinking all of this, though, the other two seemed to  be having a conversation all of their own.

“Humans can’t see us, so what’s he staring at?”

“Dunno, maybe something cool in the sky.”

“He is a brat, maybe he’s staring at the clouds.”

“Um,” Mob finally opened his mouth to speak. “I’m actually staring at you two.” That pretty much shut up the two uniformed men. They both seemed pretty taken aback by Mob’s very true statement.

“That’s not normal,” the man with orange eyes finally stated. He rubbed the back of his head, as if he was trying to think of what to do. “This is too bothersome to deal with. Let’s just go, Hirahara.”

“Eh, really?” the man with yellow eyes whined. “But Tagami, we’re at an amusement park! An amusement park!!” Despite the whining, though, the other man was already walking away, so the yellow eyed man had no choice but to follow after.

Mob, however, was left there, still staring at them as they walked away. Reigen, who at the time was more preoccupied by the fact that he’d have to clean the ghost off him, didn’t seem like he saw these two at all. So what could those two have been? Mob wondered as even their shadows disappeared in the distance.

“Come on, Mob,” Reigen’s voice suddenly cut through the boy’s thoughts. “Let’s go home and claim those tickets. Oh, and next time, try not to make such a mess when you do the exorcisms.” He thinks I beat the ghost, Mob blinked. He wanted to correct Reigen, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to explain the two strangers.

“Okay,” was the boy’s answer as he followed after Reigen. I wonder if I’ll ever see those two again, Mob thought to himself. Secretly, he hoped he wouldn’t have to. Because things that were hard to explain really made him confused. And he would rather not find out what 100% confusion would be like.

[hacelee-mp100]

What I Am Missing

Reigen’s POV on an old high school friend

The dim lighting blends in with the chattering and the music. Compared to the long bland day I waited out in my office, the sensations from this place are an overload. In a good way, I tell myself as I take a seat at the bar table. It’s good stimulation for someone who’s spent most of the day in an empty office, thoughts bouncing off the hollow walls. I’m in the hustle and bustle again. Now I get to let the outer voices bounce me around.

The bartender catches sight of me and slides over to take my order. A lemon sour cocktail, I tell him. Please. The clink of ice hints at the refreshing sensation of the liquid soon to pass down my throat. I already know what it would feel like. This is more of a routine than a reward. Routines are better than holding a notion of rewards. You get disappointed if the reward doesn’t compensate for what you were building up to. It’s better if you never get started on the notion of a reward in the first place. The cold seeps into my palm as I wrap my hand around the glass. Integrate these mini rewards like these into a routine, like fast food. They’re good, functional. Just a short break from the work you’ll have to get back to one way or the other. Before I know it, I’ve already drowned half the glass. I set the glass back down, the clink barely audible over the numbing chatter. My sigh doesn’t push the burble out of my eardrums.

The bartender must’ve been watching me out of the corner of his eye. “Them kids bothering you?” he asks. “I’d invite you over to a private sector if we had one built into the architecture.”

I glance over my shoulder to see that it’s mostly college students in the bar. “Midterm season, huh?”

The bartender lets out a good-natured laugh. “Looks like you’re in the know. We get more of them during the exam season than after. They need an outlet for all the stress.”

“Don’t we all.”

“We get loads.” The bartender leans forward on the counter and nods toward the rowdy groups of people scattered throughout the bar. “From college kids to middle-aged and older. Buddies living through life, chewing through things together. Sometimes I imagine they’re all the same people. Living out different stages of life.”

“Mmm,” I entertain the thought. “The only stage you’re missing is the underage. You only get to see the weaning.”

“Right, the weaning from protected childhood. I suppose you need a place to chew over and take in the world that slowly loses flavor compared to the childhood glories.”

“Like a good ol’ chewing gum. All the flavor’s bled out, but you keep on chewing.”

“Just keep chewing, just keep chewing, chewing, chewing...“ I recognize Dory's ‘just keep swimming’ tone in the bartender’s voice. He laughs it off and turns his eyes on me. “I see the loners, too. Us analyzers, commentators. There’s the living part. The sharing. And the commenting.”

He’s rushing it. It’s strange to feel the velocity of the conversation when it’s me who normally speeds ahead. I didn’t want to think of him today. There’s laughter among the college students.

“There’s something bothering you. I can tell. Rough day, eh?” The bartender’s voice seems way too far away. I internally shake myself to clear the fog.

“Close. More like loud thoughts.” I look up in my best attempt to imitate the bartender’s good-natured smirk, tapping on my head. “Nothing a good wash of alcohol won’t fix.”

“Ahh. No need to spell it out. Wash it away, wash it good.”

With a reassuring nod that might as well be a clap on the shoulder, the bartender saunters off.

This guy’s the epitome of a bartender, ready to talk about life but knowing when to leave people alone. If this is his regular shift, I’d mark this place as a great hop over spot for whenever I want to feel the bustling. But the crowd. It’s too loud. The chatter’s really getting to me, and I quickly down the rest of my drink.

—————

It wasn’t just the chatter, I realize as I climb the stairs to my apartment. It was the college students, the scene that landed too close to what I’ve been trying to bury. I thought it would  be my reality. I didn’t know it would be an image I’d observe from afar. Not that it was tangible at the time. It was simply what I perceived as the given. It’s not part of my life now.

My quivering vision morphs my shoes into sneakers bracing against the metallic ridges of my high school stairs. My feet create the same footsteps as when we climbed up the stairs for our music class.

There’s something hurling up in me. I briefly consider pausing to retch, but decide it’s not worth it. It’s disorienting when I don’t have my sensations aligned and categorized. I need to place my finger on the cause of this nausea. I know what this is. I am already thinking in response to what he would’ve said. I’m preparing to defend myself in a match that will never take place.

“Would you stop it,” he had told me once. He said it like a statement of fact, as if it had the same gravity as the list of evidence I was bringing up at the time to support my claim. I don’t remember the specifics of the topic we were on. I just remember the abruptness that didn’t fit in with the context.

“Mind clarifying the ‘it’?”

“Okay.” He paused. “How do you imagine us seven years down the line?”

Though I was thinking it wasn’t at all relevant, I decided to play along. “At a bar somewhere, I guess, tired from work and washing down our stress with a couple of beers.”

“What will we be talking about.”

“Uh… shitty bosses. Lamenting on our career choices. Commenting on passerby’s.”

“Right. We’ll be talking of others. Talking about other people.”

He let the conversation trail off that time. He was a strange one. He went by his own agenda. It could have been that sense of gravity that drew me to him over and over again, even though he wasn’t in my friend circle at school. We hung out from time to time after the extracurricular activities. I bailed on volleyball practice more often than not because it lasted longer than his book club meetings. When we walked home together, he would tug roughly on his bicycle handles and jolt the hardcover book in his front basket.

I tried to establish a routine, and for a while it seemed like he accepted it. Save for these strange episodes when he would try to tell me something about myself that he couldn’t even name. In moments like these, I would get the peculiar sense of cold metallic ridges digging into my ribs, as if I were the book in his basket.

When the conversation cropped up again, he picked it back up like we skipped over the weeks in between.

“People can sense it, you know. When you put up a front.”

“Yeah, I agree it’s pretty easy to spot,” I said, not missing a beat. I couldn't afford to miss any beats. The cold was seeping into my sides again, and I had to warm them back up. “Body language is bound to give people away, whether it be eye or hand movements. From their gaze to the angle of their arms to the tremor in their hands, it’s really not that hard to detect.”

He didn't fall in pace with my rambling. “But it wasn’t because of the tremor that I caught you.”

“Seems like you’re pretty good at reading contexts, then. Do you get that from all the books you read?”

“They help.” He tugged on the handlebars to get his bike over a bump in the ground. “You don’t need to fake that you’re okay. Not in front of me, at least.” He said it nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t even embarrassed about bringing up to the surface what I would clearly prefer to leave unaddressed.

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.” That was the truth. I had no understanding of the cold.

“I’m not trying to put you on the spot, jeez.”

We ran into a group of mutual friends at the crossroad, and the awkward spot in the conversation dissipated.

I think I maniacally avoided that train of conversation. Physically avoiding him would only prove its existence, so I tried to crowd our moments with my comments. It was easier in larger groups of people, because there were only so many ways you could act once the group flow was set. I was excellent at tugging the strings in that setting, a power that became null when I was with him alone.

He seemed to have picked up my routine of walking home after club hours, because he started waiting for my volleyball practice to finish. It was during one of those walks after club hours that he finally laid out what was bothering him. There was that telling pause before he talked, the pause that always came before he would make an insight-laden comment in a group setting. He talked slow., like he was just figuring this out.

“It’s hard to get through to you, Reigen. It’s hard to… I always have to spell things out for you to get it, and that sometimes goes against the grain of the whole thing, you know?”

He wasn’t always good with words, and I could fill in the gaps most of the time. I was at a loss for this one, though.

“Dude, you gotta give me more to work with.”

Was it because I didn’t like talking about myself enough? Was it because I liked to categorize other people? I thought I was doing well reading the undercurrents. I knew how to please people, but it was so much tougher with him. Maybe I could cater to his tastes more if I could figure out the part that went over my head. It was body language, most likely, since that’s the only other form of communication aside from words. In the back of my mind, I was thinking: would you put the damn thing in words so I don’t have to keep shooting in the dark?

“I’m trying here,” he complained, as if he could read my thoughts. He furrowed his eyebrows, and his eyes traveled to the book in his basket. I was surprised when he actually picked it up.

“I’ve been reading this on and off. It’s a narrative book on relationships and bonds, sort of.” He held the book out to me. “I want you to read this.”

“Sounds great.” I took the book, feeling the dents it got from getting bounced around in the metal basket.

The continued furrow in his eyebrows told me that he was still on the task of clarifying his words, forcing me to keep my mouth shut. I silently hoped that we’d run into a group of mutual friends like the last time this happened. But it was too late in the day. He had waited for my volleyball practice to end to walk home with me, and there was usually no one around at this time. Our shadows stretched long in the orange light.

Instead of the group of people, I got what I was almost dreading.

“You lack internal narration,” he said, almost proud of having found the words. Finally. “And I want you to stop trying to make up for it by stealing other people’s.”

—————

The book was actually a collection of short stories. Even though they weren’t long in length, the stories’ plot lines stretched out painfully. The characters were all Hamlet equivalents. I never enjoyed the play. I returned the book to him and he did not ask what I got out of it.

This was a full year before we graduated high school, way before we parted ways. That last year was good. We went skiing together with the mutual friend group. He brought me along on a trip with his old friends, too, so it wasn’t like that incident was the beginning of the end.

Except that memory stands out to me as the stamping of the expiration date for my time with him.

At the time I couldn’t understand what he meant by narration. What in the world is an internal narration. I was all but narration when it came to describing situations. The nonstop stream of words was my jam. Besides, it was a harsh thing to say, to anyone. If I cut all context and presented the situation to an outsider, I’m pretty sure the common response would be: that’s a shitty friend.

No, but I liked the guy. He was cool. He would sometimes throw me off because he seemed to be completely oblivious to the social hierarchy in school. He’d casually mention the social pariahs in front of the popular crowd, completely disregarding the unspoken division. This made it hard for me to gauge where I stood with him.

It wasn’t out of malice that he said that to me. He was telling me something because he cared. Something most people wouldn’t have even noticed, or cared to bring up to the surface. I wonder if he knew that we wouldn’t keep in touch, the same way he perceived this unspoken part of me. What I am left with are the bare facts. It’s statistically hard to keep in touch with everyone. It makes sense that he is one of the many I lost touch with.

But I can’t find the narration that connects the dots between these facts.

The night air is sticky. I inhale deep from my cigarette and get a big gulp of asphalt, concrete, and smoke residue. I heave a deep sigh, but it doesn’t push the stickiness out of my lungs.

A part of me wants to dismiss this as an episode of sentiments. Or find a solution. Why mull over something if you can’t do anything about it? Why mull over if you can? Logic cuts off either path. The solution comes in actions because we live in the present.

Another, more sinister part of me notes that I am slipping further away from what I had wanted at the time by thinking this. He knew it. He saw it. I never talked about it but he knew what it was that I wanted. That’s why he was telling me I wasn’t there yet. It wasn’t to present a solution. He probably didn’t know it himself. He was noting my situation because it was visible to him, because he had access to my narration that I never spelled out to him.

My head hurts. Alcohol and smoking probably weren’t a good mix. I cut my entire train of thought short and snuff out the cigarette. There was a kid coming to my place these days. I don’t know how long it would last, but I should try and cut back on smoking just for the time being. Here’s to another beginning to something I have no idea how long it would last.

I will sleep to sink me in the depths, to speed me past to the other side of tomorrow, where busy actions would patch up this gaping emptiness.