dollmaxing: (I love my daughter :])
Kuon Ichinose ([personal profile] dollmaxing) wrote2025-04-02 02:29 pm
Entry tags:

Inbox & In-person meetups


Art Source


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takutomaruki: rosebursts (don't be ashamed)

[personal profile] takutomaruki 2025-07-01 04:20 pm (UTC)(link)
“...Should I be in the IT room, too?” he asked, almost cautiously. “If things are going to be like this, I mean.”
takutomaruki: (sad)

[personal profile] takutomaruki 2025-07-01 09:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Takuto had been watching through the eyes of the cognitions when he was pulling both Kuon and Zenkichi away from each other. That glimpse of raw panic flickering when Wolf's rage had shown, causing his mask to glitch out of existence, was something to be noted.

"I think he's just...well, he's paranoid with you. Not your fault, of course, but I have met jumpy individuals here," he sighs. "Then the things I have heard from his future and then his daughter..."

Doc.

Maruki clicked his tongue. "All the more reason for me to be there then. You and the Hasegawas have a temporary truce, which is why I don't want it to get worse for you." His voice shuffled in the background with the slightest sigh of a coat being worn.

"I will get your coffee for now. The usual?"
Edited 2025-07-01 21:44 (UTC)
takutomaruki: art: hm_game9 (he's right behind me isn't he)

[personal profile] takutomaruki 2025-07-03 12:43 pm (UTC)(link)
As Kuon shifted, testing the motion of her fingers, Azathoth moved again.

Its limbs didn't twitch this time — they flowed. One long tendril unfurled with a deliberate slowness, arching toward her like an eclipse reaching down to touch the earth. It didn’t speak, didn’t pulse with power, didn’t demand attention. It merely hovered near — the way a hand might reach to catch someone not for falling, but for reassurance. For presence.

A wordless gesture: You are not alone.

The tendril curved toward her back, just brushing close enough for its warmth to be felt — not touching, just letting its presence say what it couldn't. That it saw her pain. That it knew the toll.

And that it approved of her being grateful. To be relied on. To be praised.

From the overhead speaker, Takuto’s voice returned, softened now by a gentle smile Kuon couldn’t see — but could feel in the timbre of his tone.

"You don’t have to pretend in front of the Hasegawas," he said. "They weren’t exactly polite to us. And I believe in you, Kuon."

There was a quiet rhythm of footsteps — not echoing, but existing, like he was walking somewhere just outside her view. Adjusting his outfit, maybe?

Then, a low click. The mic opened again.

"I’ll meet you there," Takuto said simply. "See you."

Azathoth lingered for a moment longer — tendrils rising slightly as if debating whether to remain. But something in the doctor's voice, that parting note of trust, seemed to satisfy it.

With one last ripple — almost like the slow exhale of a great creature settling — Azathoth retracted its limbs, folding back into itself. One tendril curled last, hesitating before drawing away like a loyal hound called to heel.