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cautious-soup · 1 month ago

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I Know You Are (And So Am I)

Part 1

4k word Mickey 17 Character Study bc I have no self-control

Tags: selfcest, mutual pining, mutual simping for Nasha, blowjobs, frottage, wearing your girlfriend's lipstick and sucking yourself off, chess, 18 is mean, 17 is distressed, both are idiots, 5+1 fic

I try not to think too much ya know? About what we've been doin and all.

Me and Nasha and Me.

Or him, rather.

We don't call each other anything consistently, mostly he calls me things like 'dipshit' and 'fuck face' and 'pathetic'.

Or puppy, but that's a pretty recent development.

It's funny, the puppy nickname caught on with Nasha too so, now she just calls me puppy a lotta the time, but I don't mind when she does it.

I guess—maybe, you know it could be worse? We could still be trying to kill each other, and he could still completely hate me instead of partially hating me, it's the little things. Little things are what keep us alive on this shitscape.

It's been 5 times—I dunno why I've been counting.

First time was when me and him and Nasha, we were all on her bed—and usually it's just me and Nasha, or him and Nasha, but hardly me, him and Nasha.

But even before all this, he was always lookin at me. Always, and especially when he was fuckin Nasha. Made me half sick to watch em' like that but...the other half of me...

God, I just feel like sucha traitor sometimes, I dunno to who, cause Nasha loves all of it.

Anyway, the first time, Nasha was under him, and her head was in my lap. We were facing each other, see? And he was fuckin Nasha, and I looked down at her, cause shes super pretty all the time but especially when shes like that. S'like she's melting or somethin, I dunno.

Then, he just made some kinda noise like in the back of his throat, and next thing I knew, his hands were in my hair, and we were kissin, like really kissin with tongue and teeth and...just...

Then, Nasha turned around and rode me hard enough to make the entire ship shake. And he, well, he just sat back and watched—while his lips were all red, smirkin like he knew somethin.

I hate that look, I really do. He's a real know it all, when in reality he knows as much as me...or as little, I dunno.

I used to think I didn't have room for anything else in my heart but Nasha. Well, it wasn't really me thinkin' that just...other me's.

But now? I got room for one more, just a little. But not cause I'm in love with him or anything, or even cause I like him, cause I don't—never have.

At first, just seein' his face twist up into that pathetic looking grimace whenever Nasha and I fucked was enough; it should've stayed that way.

But I'm a greedy bastard I guess.

My ire towards him horse-shoed back into somethin else. It was itchy, the kinda itch that was hard to reach, but I reached for it anyway.

The first time was fleetin, just a few seconds before he was pounced on by Nasha. She always looks gorgeous from behind, her back is perfect, it was always a nice view. But seein his face go all red and seein his eyes start to water from how much it was, that was even better.

Mostly his cryin pissed me off, God he was a crier, I still refuse to believe we're the same person. But sometimes there's just somethin about his face. It was the same face I saw reflected at me whenever I looked in the mirror, but different. Heh, he looked like a kicked puppy. I started callin him that after the first incident.

The second time, we were arguin like always, and he was furious—as furious as he could be anyway, because I'd gone a little too far with the oxy the night before and woke up late for a shift the mornin after. He was gettin all up and arms and blah blah blah, whining whining like the bitch he is.

First I shoved him, then he shoved me, so I punched him, and shoved him again till he hit the wall.

Maybe it's cause we were both so high strung, or maybe I shouldn'ta gotten so close to him like I did, but he looked at me the same way he'd looked at me the first time.

So, I gave him what he so obviously wanted, cause he's too pathetic to ask.

He stiffened like he had the first time, just for a second, before realizing that yes we were kissing and yes it was weird and yes we were thinkin the same thing, cause we were the same person.

Then, he grabbed the front of my shirt and flipped us so that I was the one against the wall. It was weird, I gasped, and then he kissed me again before I could take another breath, and kept goin until I was clawing at the front of his shirt.

And let it be known, I let him do that—just throwin him a bone is all, let him take his bitchy anger out on me.

It's weird kissin yourself. We both tasted the same, I ran my tongue over the same crooked molar I had in my own mouth, ran my hands through hair the same length, color and texture as mine, feelin the same stubble with the same hands.

You get real dizzy if you think about it for too long.

So I don't. We don't.

The third time was a little weird.

We don't got a lot to do for fun on the ship, but me and 18 especially. We can't be in two places at once, not really, or else people'll start suspectin us of bein multiples…which we are.

Only Timo knows of course, ya know he's really the only other guy we got around here. On the whole planet.

It's funny, Timo can call himself the one best unicyclists on the planet, cause hardly anyone else on our crew knows how.

Anyway, we gotta maximize everything on the ship, space, time, energy, everything— it's real stressful.

But sometimes, if you go way over quota on somethin, you get a board game or a puzzle or somethin to keep yourself occupied. I've never gotten one even though I've died over a dozen times, no, but Timo gets em a lot. He's got Scrabble, Uno, a Magic 8 Ball, chess.

And see, I've never played chess, so Timo offered to teach us how to play, me and 18 anyway. I originally didn't want to, but then 18 said, "Makes sense, I've probably got more brains than you anyway,"

And that's not true at all, so I decided to tag along.

"Do you know the basics?" Timo asked me. He was settin up the board on a small table in front of his bed, and 18 was across from me, twirlin' one of the black pieces in his hand.

"Uh, no, I don't," I said.

"I guess that means you don't either,"

"No, I don't," 18 said.

Timo looked between us. He did that a lot, I think we kinda freaked him out when we were in the same room together. Well that, and also 18 tried to kill him, but he also tried to kill me and I don't think he's that scary.

"Well," Timo said, "It's pretty simple uh," he held up a piece, it was small with a rounded top.

"So, this is a pawn, you get eight of em, they all go up in front." he said, waving his hand over where all the pieces were lined up.

"What's-"

18 and I paused, we were speaking at the same time again, and he always hated when that happened. He sneered at me didn't bother finishin the question, so I finished it for us, "What's um, what's that castle one called."

"Ah, I was just about to move on to that one," Timo said, "This one's my favorite, the rook. It moves like this, striaght lines, see?" He said, moving it up and down the board in straight lines.

After Timo explained the pieces, he pitted 18 and I against each other, and I got to go first since I had the white pieces. I picked the pawn and moved it up one space. 18 picked his horse guy, moved him to the front.

"Huh, you can do that?" I asked. Timo's voice came from behind me, "Yeah, you uh, gotta be creative with this game Mick,"

"S'not that creative," I muttered, sliding another pawn forward.

After a few more turns, I reached for the weird lookin piece and paused.

I couldn't remember what it was called, the pastor? I dunno, it didn't look like much of anythin, and I just had my hand hoverin over it for like a minute, and 18 was just lookin at me and I knew he was gonna give me shit for this later, for not knowin which pieces did what.

"You remember what that one does right or, heh, nevermind, I guess you don't," Timo said, getting off the bed and bending over behind me. "Here," he said, arm reaching around my body to the board. He moved the piece diagonally, so that's what it did.

I looked at the board for a little bit more, then looked back up.

18 had his chin propped in his hand, which was covering his mouth. I did that a lot too—we're the same person after all—but I only did it when I was pissed off about somethin, and 18 was always pissed off, so I didn't think too much of it.

We kept goin, then Timo's pager went off.

"Ahh shit—" Timo looked at us as he got out of his bed and shrugged on a jacket, "Yeah ok I gotta go but I'll be back—you guys keep playing if you want, I might be a bit," he said.

18 didn't look at Timo at all as he left the room, and as soon as the door closed the table was flipped, the pieces were scattered, and I was on my fuckin back.

"What the fuck!?" I yelled, shoving at 18's chest, but he just yanked me up by my shirt and looked at me with that crazed look in his eye, and I was shrinkin back before I knew it cause jeez, it was creepy seein my own face lookin at me like that.

"I swear, you go out of your way to piss me the fuck off,"

"I didn't do anything you dick—" I said, "What's your problem?"

"My problem," He said, grabbing my face with one hand and keepin the other fisted in my shirt, "Is you bein all buddy buddy with that asshole,"

"Wh-I-" I couldn't talk all that well cause my mouth was squished between 18's hand, and I guess my hands are pretty big.

Anyway, it didn't take me too long to figure out what was goin on, 18 and I are the same person after all, even though we act so different.

Which made it weirder, cause he had to know I didn't feel that way towards Timo, just Nasha, only Nasha.

And I guess…

He must've seen what I was thinkin', cause he cut it short. With his mouth. My mouth.

The back of my head hit Timo's bed, and 18 pinned me against it as best he could, he was sucha control freak.

It was funny, we were kissing and running our hands all over eachother like we were explorin but, we were each other. There couldn't have been anything to explore, right?

Pretty soon, I'm on my back again, and 18 is on toppa me, and we're both hard. Up till now it's just been kissing, but then he's nosin at my neck, and runnin a hand up my thigh. He presses his thumb to the inside, just like Nasha does, cause she knows it drives us crazy.

Nasha…

I squeezed my eyes shut, and he pulled away.

"Stop," he said.

I sat up "But,"

"It's not the same,"

"We're-"

"It's not," 18 said, leaning back in, "The same,"

It couldn't be, right?

"C'mon puppy," he said, "Don't you wanna treat yourself to somethin' different?" his hand climbed toward the hem of my pants. I was saggin against the bed, no matter how hard I tried I couldn't move.

But, he didn't need to ask if I wanted it, he already knew.

He kissed me again, and told me to pull my pants down, so I did, and he laughed when he saw how hard I was. He really had some nerve, I could see he was in the same condition—it was right in fronta me.

Then, it was really in fronta me when he pulled his own pants down—it's really somethin seein your own dick from so many different angles. We both just stared for a while, but I reached forward first.

"Nk," 18 grunted when I wrapped my hand around him. It wasn't like jerkin off, cause of the angle, but technically it was.

He was breathin hard, and leaned forward till our forheads touched. I started movin my hand then, and he sighed. I tried brin a hand up to his face, I dunno why, but he batted it away and urged me back more—the head of Timo's bed clattered against the wall. He rose up on his knees till his dick was in my face, grippin the foot of the bed, and jerkin himself off.

But I didn't want that, clearly, so I leaned foward and fitted my lips around the head. A lotta guys try suckin themselves off I heard, I never tried myself, at least until now.

I definitely get the appeal.

I tried doin it the way Nasha does, but she's way better at it than me, along with most other things. Still, I dunno why, but I wanted to bring 18 over the edge myself, with my own mouth. His mouth.

I looked up at him as I tried to take more and gosh, I thought I was just average sized, but I guess even agerage takes a lot to swallow down. 18 looked down at me, confused. S'funny, I always thought I'd look awkward from this angle, but I guess I looked pretty good, and tasted pretty good.

Then suddenly, I couldn't get enough. I don't remember when I closed my eyes but they were closed, and my hands were braced around 18's thighs, and I was bobbin my head. 18 was makin a lotta noise above me, even though he was trying not to, and that made me half-crazy—I dunno why.

"That's it puppy, fuck—that's it," he said, "Guess you're not useless after all huh? Shit, ugh,"

Nasha and I both know each other's tells—when we want more, less, when we're close. Nasha always brings arm up and across her eyes just before she finishes. She tells me I make a sound before I cum too, but I've never really paid attention to it until now.

18 gripped my head and held me there, and I let him, even though I started to choke a little.

"Haah ngh—ahh…haah…haah,"

Huh, so that's what I sounded like.

And I tasted awful, I pulled my mouth off coughing, my own jizz fallin outta my mouth in globs. I didn't wanna swallow any of it, I wasn't sure what my body's reaction would be to that. 18 collapsed, on his knees in fronta me, and rested his forhead on my shoulder. I was confused, until I felt his hand wrap around my dick.

I didn't even realize how hard I was until then, but I was a goner after just five strokes. 18 laughed, he was really outta breath, and pulled away to sit back.

"Jeez," he breathed.

"Yeah," I said, watching the jizz soak into the rug beneath us.

Timo would be pissed if he found out.

We don't got much by waya cosmetics here. Nasha hates it—and I hate it too by extension. On earth she says she had a bit of a problem with make-up, a shopping addiction, but she still loved it. All her friends would ask her to do their faces for em.

She said she had a new look every day. 17 goes on and on about how he wishes he coulda seen it, but Nasha looks gorgeous enough already. Still…it must've been somethin.

She's only got the basics on the ship, lipstick, foundation and mascara. She uses em pretty sparingly, 'cept for when she needs to mark us on the occasions we all end up in bed together. Hasn't happened lately though, mostly cause 17's a bitch about what he and I have been doin lately.

Speakin of, that leads me to the fourth time.

Yeah, there was an event of some sort goin on for the security staff, the kind where Nasha got to dress up nice. I don't got a tux cause I didn't think to bring one, but Nasha's got two sets of real nice clothes, a dress and a pantsuit. I like the pantsuit best, 17 prefers the dress.

He was out on a shift so I was the one that got to help dress Nasha this time around. She kissed me goodbye and left, said she'd be gone for a couple of hours, left me alone waitin for 17 to get back so I could brag that I got to doll up Nasha without him. He got real whiney about things like that, greedy bastard.

Since I've been on this ship I've only ever used my room for sleepin and showerin, and even though Nasha's room's the same layout as mine, I prefer her's.

But so does 17, cause we're the same person after all.

I was expecting him when he came into Nasha's room, still half frozen from bein' outside so long. I used to wish he'd just die out there, but then I realized that wouldn't solve anything, they'd just print another.

There really is no escape from this shithole is there.

Anyway, 17 looked at me, then around the room.

"Where's Nasha?"

"At the security thing, she told us like a million times," I said.

"I mean yeah but it's not for another half hour,"

"She's chronically early, you know this,"

"Well um, I dunno I just thought-"

"Thought what?" I asked, sitting up on her bed, "That'd she'd wait up for you puppy? She's got better things to do than wait around for a sad sack like you," I laughed. 17's jaw ticked, and he looked off to the side all dejected like. Loser.

In that moment, I thought it was cute. Most people don't look in the mirror and find themselves cute, but this is different.

I know he and I act different, we basically have different personalities. Dorothy says it's cause it's pretty much impossible to make a perfect copy of a human brain. The memories are just one part, the rest ends up different each time. She also said I shoulda known cause personality alteration was listed as a risk in the paperwork, but whatever.

17 thinks I'm crazy and I let him believe it, it's funny. Nasha likes us both, but I bring out parts of her that none of the other me's have. When you give good enough, you get even better.

Sometimes I think about me and Nasha tag teamin 17, cornering him and havin our way with him till he disentigrates back into the trash goop he came from.

I'll fess up, that fantasy's been livin in the backa my head for a while—rears its head when neither of em are around and I gotta take care of myself.

And I know that, since I'm him, he's thinking somethin similar, and he knows that I know and so on.

"Whatever," 17 said, turnin around to the door to leave.

And see, I'm not a fan of bein dismissed, 'specially like that, so I was at the door and closing it before he could get past the threshold.

I already knew what he was about to ask.

"What do you want?"

I stared at him for a while, I knew he was gonna ask but I didn't know how to answer, I didn't know.

What did I want?

I decided to play the usual game, "You know,"

"No I don't, fuck's sake, we got different brains I don't—I don't know what you're thinkin most of the time…" he sighed, brushing past me.

I turned around and watched as he fell back on Nasha's bed.

"When's she gonna be back," he whined, such a fuckin whiny bitch.

"I dunno," I lied. I did, but I liked seein him all impatient n' anxious.

He grabbed the pillow at the fronta the bed and spooned it. I didn't say anything, cause he probably knew damn well I did it too when Nasha wasn't around, and like all the other me's did before

But that's cause we were alone before.

I walked toward the bed and kicked it, 17 didn't budge, so I kicked it again.

"I know you're gonna try takin the pillow next, don't try it, m'not in the mood,"

What a baby. I reached down and snatched the pillow from his grip anyway.

"Dick," he muttered, didn't move.

Tch.

I threw the pillow back on the bed, felt my jaw clench in irritation.

Every one of us has experienced moods where all we want is Nasha, nothin' else. I get it, but it's pathetic when it's him.

Then, my eyes caught the lipstick sitting on her bathroom sink. I glanced back at him, before walking inside and grabbing it.

I caught myself in the mirror, turned my face left, then right. I could see the depressed lump in the reflection, his back was turned.

Then, I had an idea.

I unscrewed the lip stick and turned it in my hands and realized I'd never really seen it up close, s'weird. I looked back up at the mirror and leaned forward, 17 was still mopin'. The lipstick had a kinda angle to it, and I guessed you were supposed to press it to your lips and spread it. Nasha always did it so quick, it was harder than it looked.

Still, I don't think I looked half bad after.

I sat on the bed, rocking it and making 17 curl in on himself more.

"Fuck off, dickhead," he murmured.

"Hm," I said, "So you wish Nasha were here huh?"

He didn't respond, so I grabbed his shoulder and turned him over.

"Ugh will you just—juhh…uh," He stuttered when he saw me, eyes goin wide.

Cute.

"You want Nasha so bad so just thinka me as a close second, yeah puppy?" I said, leanin forward to press my lips to the corner of his, makin' sure I left a nice red lip print there.

"Wh—" He blinked, then scrambled further up the bed, "What're you doin huh? Wearin Nasha's stuff like that—"

I shut him up with my mouth, ya know, s'annoying to me when he talks too much.

"Why don't you close your eyes," I rasped after pulling back, kissing his jaw and trailing down his neck. I pulled up his shirt, and yanked down the hem of his pants.

"O-oh, oh god," he said, head falling back on the pillow with a thump as I pulled his dick out.

It surprised me seein it so close, cause I was a lot bigger than I thought. At least, from the perspective of someone about to swallow the whole thing down.

I looked at it again, and decided I'd start slow, like he did. That's all this was really, I was returnin' the favor.

"Hng, fuck I, ugh," 17 wouldn't stop whimperin', all I was doin was jerkin him off. He was probably havin' another crisis, even though I thought we cleared it up last time that what we were doin wasn't the same.

Not that I'd ever tell him, but the blowjob he gave me had me at the edges of my sanity—what little of it was left in a place like this. I dunno what it was, maybe how he looked on his knees for me, or how much he seemed to like it, but I'd resolved to one up him, do better.

I looked up at him and smirked, he had streaks of lipstick all over his face, his neck. I liked how it looked, and could think of one place that shade of red would look even better.

After makin sure he and I were making eye contact, I leaned down and pressed my lips to the side of his shaft, the part where I knew we were both sensitive.

17 seemed out of breath, so I kept goin, lickin' up the length of him and back down, takin' one of his balls in my mouth. To be honest I had no idea what I was doin', but no matter what I did he was so responsive…I can't remember if I was like this when he went down on me or not—that whole memory is just white now.

After toyin' with him for a while, I decided to really get to work, but I barely had my lips around his head before he was grippin the sheets and shooting into my mouth. I held his thighs down and took it all, didn't want any to get on the bed.

"Haah—you, why…aah, hah…" he panted.

"Lame," I muttered, swallowing down the jizz and sitting back on my feet, "I expect somethin to be done about this, by the way," I said, pointin to the bulge in my pants, "Tit for tat."

17 was still laying back on the bed, gulpin down air, so I straddled him, "Hey, quit bein a bitch and take care of this, come on,"

He had his forearm across his eyes, but he peeked up at me. I was confused why he was blushin, till I remembered I still had the lipstick on, which made me blush too.

He sat up and pulled my dick out, then pressed it against his own—he was hard again already.

I flinched for some reason when he started strokin me, and I couldn't stop shudderin, so I let myself fall against him a bit. Then we were kissing again, all slow, and he was strokin' me even slower, but I wanted him to get on with it so I started buckin my hips against his.

"Mmm," he hummed against my mouth, bracing a hand on my pelvis and making me slow down. It was a unique kinda feeling, having your dick pressed against one that was identical to your own. Well, not quite, cause his had a lipstick stain on the side. I don't think it was meant to be, cause it felt too fucking good to make any real sense. I hated it. I hated it so I bit him.

"F-ow," he whined, "What was that for huh?" he sighed, still keeping the same, agonizing pace, "I'm tryna be accomodating here,"

He was lookin at me funny, his mouth was about as red as mine at this point, and his eyes were half closed.

I looked down between us again, wonderin when we'd both gotten so wet. God the sound of him strokin' us together was just…

"I'm…fuck, I think," I braced my hands on both of his shoulders, looking down at us and panting.

In a situation like that, it was only natural that we both came at the same time. Fuckin' 17 kept stroking and squeezing us together like a couple of toothpaste tubes until he was sure I was empty. Both of our dicks were drenched, and I had to peel myself away from 17 before I got hard again.

"Hm, I guess I feel a bit better," 17 said, stretching and standing from the bed, "I'm gonna shower first,"

Nasha got back a while later, and was surprised to see that we'd managed to coexist in the same space for so long.

"Good job both of you," She cooed, pinching us both on the cheek.

I didn't bother tellin her that I spent most of that time tryna scrub the lipstick off.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fic writing #ao3 #mickey 17 #mickey 18 #mickey 17 spoliers #mickey 17 movie #mickey barnes #nasha barridge #mickey x nasha #mickey 17 x mickey 18 #smut #pining #enemies to lovers #5 + 1 fic #5+1 things #selfcest #jealousy

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ba-kiun · 2 months ago

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😨😱😱Yuunems lore drop⁉️⁉️/srs

This is fun to write, heh.

Warning: War; Mention of death; Mention of blood; Gun; Crowley slander; Explode; Multi names refer to Yuunem; Mention of torn flesh; Drak Mirror roasted Yuunem; and many other things.

“HNGG… Ow! This lid is jammed shut!” Kamil groaned, gripping the edge of the coffin and yanking with all his might.

Around him, a group of people were struggling to pry open the damned box. After a while of fruitless effort that left him panting, Trey had no choice but to step back and catch his breath.

“Oi. What the hell is wrong with this lid?” Leona muttered irritably, his lazy eyes sweeping over the group working to lift the lid. Then, his gaze landed on the winged culprit observing with complete irresponsibility—their infuriating headmaster, Dire Crowley.

The crow—ahem, Crowley—fidgeted as he watched his students wrestle with Pandora’s box, with absolutely no intention of helping. ("I, Dire Crowley, cannot use magic to open this gate because I have far more important duties to fulfill… like, um, observing!")

“We need to open it as soon as possible, or the student inside might suffocate!”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT EARLIER?!”

Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose, watching the circus unfold. At that moment, the idea of diving into a river somewhere sounded like a reasonable escape.

Out of the blue, the gate is shaking.

Wait.

The gate.. shaking?

“IT’S GONNA EXPLODE—”

The plan for a peaceful post-war life and reunion with the Lord was instantly discarded when the creature inside opened his eyes.

That starving beast took a breath—only to choke on it. The air was thick and suffocating, like the nights trapped in crossfire, like those cursed days where you’d pray for a stray bullet to end it all. He hated this feeling.

All he could hear was the slow, pounding rhythm of his heart, and the crushing weight of despair gnawing at his chest like a starved animal.

Had he died again? No—death would’ve been kinder.

He was suffocating.

His chest heaved. He clenched his fists so tightly his nails bit into his palms, drawing blood. This wasn’t a warzone. But his body didn’t know that.

There were no bombs, no charred flesh, no screams of the dying. But the stench of rotting wood clawed up his nose, dragging him back to the day he was buried alive under rubble—the fading screams, the crushing weight of earth and stone. He should’ve died then.

But he was still here.

Goddammit.

The sinner gritted his teeth, his entire body tensed in pure reflex. He hated coffins. They trapped him—sealed him away like a demon in a cage. They choked him. Just like that place—the one not everyone survived.

And as if God was laughing in his face, the coffin exploded just before the demon inside could step out—BOOM!

When the coffin door was blasted open, smoke and dust filled the air. Splinters flew in all directions. Shouts of panic erupted from nearby students. Riddle was surely losing his mind over the rules violation, but no one cared about him right now. Every gaze locked onto the figure standing amidst the wreckage.

A teenager.

The dim firelight flickered in his dark eyes, casting harsh shadows on a face twisted with cold, unfeeling tension. His clothes were wrinkled, hair disheveled, body wound tight like a cornered beast. His hands were clenched into fists, knuckles pale.

Survival instinct was carved into his very bones.

He needed air. More. He was breathing like he’d just clawed his way out of Hell itself. (He never left it, really.)

Voices. He recognized some of them—beastmen, a stupid crow, a redhead glaring at him like he wanted to throw him into a river. None of them mattered.

They are looking at him.

Not with the wariness of fellow survivors. Not with the recognition of warriors. No—there was curiosity, excitement, and something akin to pity.

Nausea surged in his throat.

The hunter felt sick.

Goddammit.

No one had warned him he’d wake up in a coffin. No one said he'd be surrounded by people staring at him like some lost, broken creature—not a survivor, but a monster that shouldn't exist.

The sinner didn’t like those eyes.

Pitying. Curious. Disgusted. But too scared to look away. Like standing before a corpse—repulsed, but unable to tear your gaze away.

His head throbbed. His heart pounded—not from shock or fear. He knew this feeling too well. He’d died a thousand times already—in fevered nightmares, in long nights haunted by memory, in every squeeze of the trigger—but as long as his flesh kept moving, he wasn’t dead yet.

He shouldn’t be here.

Not because the coffin exploded like some cursed firework welcoming a revenant from the grave, nor because people were looking at him like a demon just crawled out of hell. He’d seen worse.

It was because he was still alive.

..He wasn’t supposed to be.

The war veteran licked his cracked lips, feeling the rough skin on his hands—how many times had these fingers pulled the trigger? How many times had they been stained?

The blood had soaked into his skin. Every movement felt sticky, even though his hands were perfectly clean. The illusion never went away. He couldn’t wash it off.

He clenched his fists.

It wasn’t blood. There was nothing there.

Nothing at all.

He had to remember that.

—

“State thy name.”

He glanced at the thing floating in front of him. A mirror. A white mask. A voice echoing from nowhere, claiming it could judge his soul.

What a joke.

If any place could judge him, it should’ve been the battlefield. The heaps of corpses, the dead still staring at him with vacant eyes. The screams that echoed in his head long after his ears stopped hearing.

This world could judge him? A mirror could?

Kurki Yuuya

Enma Yuuken

Hirasaku Yuuka

Mito Yuuta

Oujo Yuuna

Yuu.

“Yuunem.” He used to hope someone will carve it on a tombstone for him.

“..Very well, Yuunem. Your soul—

Colorless, tasteless, empty. This world has no place for you.

—Warped, cursed, deathly, and destructive. A sinner like you deserves hell and every torment mankind has ever conceived. Even God himself cannot save you.”

Ah.

Of course.

No surprise there.

He laughed.

Not out of humor. Not sarcasm. Just… yeah. That tracks.

No one needed to tell him. No one needed to pass judgment. Yuunem had sentenced himself long, long ago.

“Savanaclaw. You belong to Savanaclaw.”

===

This year, Savanaclaw got a new hunter, again.

Good news: at least this one isn’t sneaking around the dorm writing reports on beastmen.

Bad news: this hunter is hot-headed, impulsive, trained for combat. And worst of all—armed.

In the first week, Savanaclaw’s hospital admission rate spiked abnormally. Loudmouths quickly learned this wasn’t someone they could mess with. Not because he was bigger, stronger, or faster—but because he didn’t hesitate to kill.

Tension hung thick every time he showed up. Leona, as the Housewarden, probably should’ve stepped in. Instead, he just crossed his arms, yawned, and let his underclassmen reap what they sowed.

Ruggie was different.

He had a bad feeling about this guy.

Not just because that gaze made Ruggie’s spine go cold, or because he had the insane habit of carrying a gun around campus like some lunatic.

It was.. that look.

The look of someone who had already given up.

Yuunem didn’t hide the fact that he was dangerous. That deathly aura clung to him like a neon sign in blood-red Times New Roman that screamed "LOOK AT ME".

Ruggie wasn’t surprised when the underclassmen were scared stiff of him.

He didn’t look at anyone. And yet, he saw everything.

Not with a human gaze. But with the eyes of someone who had died and kept walking. Like if you said the wrong word, you’d be the next thing he aimed at.

In short, Ruggie thought Yuunem was worse than fascists.

“Touch me, hold me, love me.”

Yuunem had begged, and it did exactly that—tore him apart completely, until all that remained was a heart that had long lost all traces of humanity and a creature draped in the skin of a man.

Yuunem had willingly let war destroy him.

That’s why he’s a little more insane than most people. Most of the Savanaclaw students chose to avoid him—partly because he was a hunter, but mostly because he always carried the faint scent of blood and corpses.

Whose blood? Certainly not Yuunem’s. One wrong step, and that blood scent would be yours. Most of Savanaclaw understood that principle. Whenever they saw Yuunem’s face, they dodged as if being a second late would cost them their dinner—and their bones.

Most of them.

The remaining few? Yuunem made sure to help adjust their bones—he was a generous man, after all.

On his first morning at Night Raven College, Yuunem woke up with a mild headache and an acute sense of alertness. The bell signaling the start of a new school day rang out, but to Yuunem, it was nothing more than an annoying noise.

Last night’s dream was just like always. Smoke. Burning flesh. Choked screams. He looked down at his hands—they were disturbingly clean.

So clean it was almost offensive. He had washed them thousands of times, scrubbed until the skin broke. Despite the truth that nothing was really there, Yuunem's hands still felt slick with blood—still held the warmth of torn flesh, the coldness of lifeless metal.

School. Once again, he was caught in that loop. Yuunem had survived a war. He had seen blood flow like rivers, had heard dying screams cut short, had watched hope vanish behind walls of flame. And now, here he was, sitting on a stiff wooden chair, surrounded by noisy teenagers chatting about homework, sports clubs, and meaningless gossip.

So out of place. Yuunem is lost in peace. Not because he doesn’t want it—he just can’t remember what to do with it.

He hated crowds. Hated the sugary scent of breakfast in the cafeteria. Hated the cheerful voices of students heading to class. Hated the blinding sunlight—so bright it felt like it could burn him into ash.

And yet, yet, Yuunem liked watching people exist. Liked seeing a perfectly arranged breakfast tray waiting to be touched. Liked hearing voices of the living, even when they had nothing to do with him. Liked even the sun gnawing at his skin—an annoying reminder that he could still feel, that he was still here, still human.

It felt like being alive.

The first time Yuunem stepped into the Savanaclaw breakfast hall, he stood at the doorway and blinked.

Too loud.

But there were no gunshots.

It took him a few seconds to realize that. A crowded place—but no explosions. No flying bullets. No blood on the walls. No one screaming. No one dying. Strange.

And yet, his body was still tense, as if waiting for an ambush. His finger twitched—a familiar, old reflex. Here, there were no triggers to pull. No targets to shoot.

Not used to this.

Boring.

He wondered, if he pulled out his gun now, would the room become more lively?

Yuunem did exactly that when someone walked up and grabbed the hood of his coat.

The feel of the gun’s grip slamming into the guy’s cheekbone was nostalgic. A dull thud, a shiver down his finger. Not strong enough to break, but enough to hurt. The guy froze. So did the entire room.

A few students stopped mid-sentence. Some turned away, pretending not to see. One brave soul glanced at the pistol at Yuunem’s waist, then quickly swallowed hard and buried his face in his food like if he couldn’t see Yuunem, maybe Yuunem wouldn’t see him either.

No one said anything. Pity.

The second time Yuunem entered the Savanaclaw breakfast hall—

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Disgusting. It felt like if he reached out a hand, these people would crumble into ash.

As if he was a curse.

As if he had already died.

The air around him was like a herd of antelopes catching scent of a lion. A few of the big mouths from yesterday were now shrinking into their seats, eyes wary. Someone dropped a chopstick—the clatter echoed like a death knell.

Yesterday, someone had dared touch him. Today, no one did. Good. Or maybe.. not?

The door clicked shut behind him.

Yuunem said nothing. Just exhaled a long breath and shoved his hands into the pockets of his wrinkled school hoodie. The heartbeat of everyone around him spiked, like little mice trapped in a corner.

Silence. A heavy, suffocating silence filled with fear. Yuunem was never a fan of quiet, but this silence was... dull. At least on a battlefield, there were explosions, screams, the clash of metal. It was loud, chaotic, brutal—but it was the sound of existence.

This silence, though—it made him feel like a ghost. Seen. Feared. But never touched.

This silence wasn’t peace. It was a black hole, draining all life, leaving behind only stares and the fear of being consumed. An invisible prison locking them all inside terror.

No one wanted to get involved with him.

No one wanted to catch his attention.

No one wanted to be the next one hospitalized.

And that made sense.

Yuunem had drawn his line on the very first day. Now, he was alone.

As always.

From the corner of his eye, Yuunem saw Ruggie watching him like a wild animal sizing up a trespasser in its territory.

One beast recognizing another.

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circinuus · 2 years ago

Text

TW. chapter 109 and bungou stray dogs. angst angst angst. sad.

You've always wondered what you would do in the last moments before the world caves in.

Gaze into the sunset as the economy falls into ruin? Find a good book as humanity morphs into mindless monsters?

Run and fight for the love of your life?

You weren't sure. You've never been. Everything passed by like the sigh of dawn. Hasn't it been, always? You were having an outing with him. He was smiling, and you were too. Then he was gone. Then everyone else was gone. Then the world started to crumble, and you are left with nothing but blisters on your feet and soul.

Was there even anything left? Of this world and of this sick death maze? Of this twisted war and of the reality that you've all lost?

Nothing.

Nothing?

No, there was something. Your everything.

That was why you run. That was why you're here. Are you not?

You run you run you run. You don't care. You don't care. About the cracked walls, the blood staining the floor, the calamity that might as well struck the world by now. You don't care about all that. One thing only rings in your mind.

Dazai.

Dazai. Dazai. Dazai. The curious shell of a man. The pitiful, lonely man. The man you love.

Then you find him.

There he lays against a cold white wall. Deformed, broken, splashed with cracks and glistening maroon and oh God!-

It was sick. Horrifying. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

He just sits there. Why is he just sitting there? In front of him stands a person. No, you don't care. Your mind only rings about one thing. Dazai. Dazai. He is alright. He must be. He always has. This must be wrong.

So you ran. Like all your life depended on it. Maybe it did. Your life is his life. You are his. He is yours. The man in front of him resembles someone you know. A vacant gaze in his eyes. A gun in his hands. But it doesn't matter. None of it does. In your mind only rings one thing.

"Dazai?" you whisper. tentative, scared. His warmth in your cradle is familiar. But not the seeping coldness. not the dampness of the crimson.

"Dazai? Dazai?" his cheek is cold and for a split second, his eyelids seem to flutter. But even your gaze is getting blurry. What of? Of tears? But why? Dazai is alright. He always is.

A slight squeeze on your arm. He is too frail. Has he always been? That doesn't matter.

He is alright. You will help. You will help him.

"You'll be okay," you whisper again as you appraise his wounds. "You'll be okay," you choke as you realize his broken bones.

"You'll be okay," you rip a piece of your own, bloodied and tattered clothing, desperately dressing up whatever mess out of his body. "You'll be okay," you appraise him, again, perhaps to convince him once more. Or to convince you. It doesn't matter. None of it does.

He looks so frail. Hasnt he always? But he looks too frail you feel the beats of your heart escaping you.

"I'm sorry." you press another piece of ripped fabric into his wound." I'm sorry." The wound on his shoulder continues to bleed. It must've hurt. "I'm sorry." Then you patch the one on his side. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Dazai hated pain. It must've hurt. It must've hurt. "I'm sorry."

Then you stop at the wound on his brow.

"I'm sorry, darling."

And maybe, at that point, you felt like your life is spent, too.

this took more time than I thought. i haven't written anything properly these days qwq (and i don't know if you guys rmb but) thank you @white-heartt @extemporeies @muderdrones! for encouraging the completion of this piece heh

♡ taglist @ashthemadwriter

#thank you #and sorry #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader

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soupedepates · 2 months ago

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VALLÉE DE L'ÉTRANGE - Heh, that's funny, nobody comes to sit next to you in that subway.

CRY HAVOC - Who cares? They aren't half as strong as you are. You slept less than 8 hours in those last five days and you're still as alert as ever.

HEDONIST - Amphetamines, baby doll!

HOUND-LIKE - But that is starting to freak Pitaji and Mataji too. They're thinking you're becoming stranger by the minute since you got in law school.

THE WEB - That's because they can't have you do unpaid hours at the restaurant anymore.

FRED IN THE MIDDLE - Boohoohoo no more daughter to play the hostess and the waitress to help Mataji... so sad.

DHARMACHAKRA - Pitaji is sick. You should help your family. Elliot and Lalita can only do so much... And you're good enough in your classes. You don't mind ditching some to help with the night shift.

SECOND GENERATION - How dare you, Frederica Kalayar Sanda Khin?! Your parents sacrificed EVERYTHING for you to get a proper education!

DHARMACHAKRA - It isn't being careless about your studies. It is also making a statement. Your family is hard-working and the system is rigged.

HAPPY FEW - In your favour. Rigged in your favour. You are in the happy few, after all.

DHARMACHAKRA - It is unfair. Your accomplishments will leave a bitter taste on your tongue until everyone is equal by birthright.

CRY HAVOC - This is your stop.

THE TRIGGER - Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. You're late. You're late. You're late. YOU'RE LATE!

PRETTY EXPENSIVE PAIR OF HIGH-HEELS SHOES - Hellooooo Bunty! It's good you don't run in me, 'cause y'know, I'm made for dan~cing~ twist, charleston and, most importantly, tango. By the way, why did you picked up lil' pretty me tonight? It's not like you're gonna dance the night away... or... OR~~

SECOND GENERATION - You HAVE to be perfect. Look at you in your pocket mirror: disheveled. Take a moment for a bit of powder here, rouge on your lips but not too much or you'll look like a cheap hooker, kohl there, and for the love of all that is sacred replace your bindi. It doesn't look right.

VALLEE DE L'ETRANGE - Gotta distract people from everything else. It's the first time you meet Ajeng's mentor and housemate, you have to make a good impression.

PRETTY EXPENSIVE PAIR OF HIGH-HEELS SHOES - Don't tell me ya wanna fuck that man! Oh, Bunty, he is so OLD! And perhaps ugly as fuck. Sure, old men are your jam, like you would tots take a bite of Clarence weren't it for his dead wife. You either like strange and fascinating women or pathetic older men; girl has some big parent issues here!

LAZZI - At least you'll make him laugh, eheh.

HEDONISTIC - Damn, that neighbourhood is booo-ring.

SAVVY - Not "boring" per-se. It has conventional houses with white fences and a little bit of a garden. Some households have dogs. Some have cats. It's a residential neighbourhood. A bourgeois residential neighbourhood. With families or people with a bit of money but not too much. Not that ritzy, but less colourful than where you actually live. Yep, definitely in the faubourgs. But way less scary than the vampire district and the huge mansion where Ajeng grew up. You don't stick out like a sore thumb.

SECOND GENERATION - Mataji would've KILLED to raise you all in that kind of neighbourhood.

LIBRE PENSEE - Ew. You would've learn to conform here. You wouldn't know better than being yet another girl who takes barbiturate to sleep and amphetamines to wake up. A perfect housewife, meek enough to lower her gaze and take the blow when needed.

SECOND GENERATION - You're going way too far, doll.

LIBRE PENSEE - Not every man is Pitaji or Clarence. Lots are abusive assholes. Women, too, can be atrociously violent. Stay free. It's better this way.

RUNNING OUT OF TIME - And you're happier than your average girl, thanks to partying, Ajeng, humouring Antigone, Clarence...

LES PETITS CARNETS - Thanks to me, babe!

SAVVY - Oh, we're here. Yep. Knock on the door.

HOUND-LIKE - Ajeng! Ajeng! Ajeng! Ajeng! My favourite girl in the world! Ajeeeeeeng!

COMEDIAN - Damn the music professor is sooooo fine. Let him do his little seductive spell... Or is he just charming?

HOUND-LIKE - My beloved Ajeng! We only look at youuuuu, you're so cute with that dress and, oh my, you got a haircut! That's so chic, you look like a grande dame!

LIBRE PENSEE - Is that so bad to want to get frisky with that man ?

DHARMACHAKRA - He is Ajeng's professor. Calm your tits.

HEDONIST - But you only live once!

RUNNING OUT OF TIME - Can't agree more!

VALLEE DE L'ETRANGE - ...He can't look you in the eye. You unsettle him.

HEDONIST - Bummer.

PRETTY EXPENSIVE PAIR OF HIGH-HEELS SHOES - Well, at least you feel pretty.

FAVOURITE FLOWERY DRESS - Very pretty. And comfy.

PRETTY EXPENSIVE PAIR OF HIGH-HEELS SHOES - And comfy.

FAVOURITE FLOWERY DRESS - Comfier than pretty.

VALLEE DE L'ETRANGE - Frankly, you feel ugly as fuck.

HOUND-LIKE - But but but... But Ajeng thinks you look pretty! Ajeeeeng! You would kill for her...

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE - Of course she is great, she is your friend. You're not friend with people that aren't at least good. She can't do anything wrong.

OX - "Have you slept well? You look so pale and dizzy, you poor thing..."

HOUND-LIKE - Even if Ajeng shows her hands and tells you she was rehearsing a sonata she adapted to play on her harp, it is worrying.

COLD READING - But you know she doesn't lie.

DHARMACHAKRA - You can see in Mr. Landstrern's eyes that no-one can stop Ajeng when she decides to do something.

COLD READING - He, too, looks tired. But mostly, worried. About Ajeng. Her fingers bleed ever so slightly, but they bleed.

HOUND-LIKE - "C'me on, Aji, tonight I'm here so that means no-work-for-you!"

COLD READING - You sense relief in Mr. Landstrern's posture.

COMEDIAN - He hides it well; he knows he can't afford to look worried. He has his classes to teach at the Conservatoire of Ink, he has his private lessons to give here and there, he has Ajeng to supervise. That man has a lot going on.

HEDONIST - He should try amphetamines.

LAZZI - While the table is being set by a aging human maid, you put on the last record you purchased with Ajeng to dance for a bit. You make her laugh.

HEDONIST - And you make her dance. She needs it.

HOUND-LIKE - Look how cute she is when she laughs!

DHARMACHAKRA - You give the thumb up to Mr. Landstrern. He can go to work in peace, you're in charge now. He gives you a smile full of gratitude.

LA RUMEUR - "Emportés par la foule qui nous traîne. Nous entraîne, écrasés l'un contre l'autre, nous ne formons qu'un seul corps. Et le flot sans effort nous pousse, enchaînés l'un et l'autre et nous laisse tous deux, épanouis, enivrés et heureux..."

#oc #writing #lysara #trial of the magicians #disco elysium #disco elysium skills #fred does love her friend like crazy #edith piaf #la foule

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hystixia · 2 years ago

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surprised no one's asked for you to elaborate on the wound fucking idea yet like hello??? does disasterpiece mean nothing to you??

please talk more about it I'm begging you😭

also goodmorning LOL, it's never too early to be a slut for jeff :)

FEATURING 、JEFF MASON X F!READER

WARNINGS 、NONCON, WOUND FUCKING, BLOOD, GORE, BLOOD KINK, DEGRADATION, IMPLIED SNUFF AT THE END (?)

NOTE 、LMFAO REAL ! ! you’re the only one that’s asked specifically abt it so therefore ! i shall give you what you want nonnie <3 ALSO GOOD MORNING ! LOVE YOU LOTS ! ! JEFF IS JERKING OFF OUTSIDE YOUR WINDOW WATCHING YOU START YOUR DAY RN ! !

You’re at a disadvantage but still able to push against him and attempt to create space despite him straddling you on the ground. He thinks it’s cute, the way you put all your strength into pushing him, brows knit together because you’re trying so hard. Your little huffed breaths and the way tears are clinging to your lashline because you’re scared of what he’s going to do with that knife in his hand if you don’t try to get away.

He knows though. He knows you’re scared of him, you’ve always been a little on edge when he was around and especially whenever he was near you. He liked that you were constantly on your toes, worried of what he’d do if you made him mad. It got boring as time went on though, he needed to bring that excitement back somehow and someway or he was going to move on to killing you to be done with it.

“Jeff, p-please! Please don’t do this!” “Do what? I haven’t even done anything to you yet.” He chuckles, finding it amusing how panicked you sounded as you desperately begged and pleaded with him to stop. He forces your shirt up enough to expose your belly and he drags the knife over the soft skin almost teasingly, a sick grin on his face as you trembled and cried.

“Fuck, I like it when ya cry.” He pokes the point of the blade into the side of your stomach just off the left before ghosting an X over it and your brows knit together in confusion, trying to understand what he was doing. He looks into your eyes and you tense up, that dark and violent glint in his red eyes and you nearly let out a hysterical cry but the air is ripped from your lungs when he plunges the knife into the spot he’d traced over. He twists the knife, chuckling darkly as you cried out and screamed at the top of your lungs, your hands trembling and trying to grab his wrist to stop him but you were far too late to prevent anything from happening now.

He smiles at the sight when he tugs his knife out, blood staining the metal before he looks down at the blood seeping from the open hole he carved into you. You gasp out, tears falling down your face and your chest rising and falling rapidly as you all but hyperventilate under him. He pulls you up and presses you against the tree and an odd angle that leaves more excruciating pain to spread in your stomach. You felt nauseous and dizzy, vision unfocused as you tried to clear your mind and think of something to do but it’s as if time has slowed for you but remained up to speed for him.

He’s quick to tug his pants loose and let them bunch up around his knees as he moves closer, cock already throbbing in his hand as he pumps himself a few times with a low groan. At first, you thought he was going to jerk off over you while you’re wounded and bleeding out. Which was disgusting in of itself but what he actually did was so much worse and you couldn’t have prepared yourself for it when his cock breached the gaping wound and your warm insides moved against his intruding cock.

You cry out, writhing and trying to scramble away but it’s much too difficult to do. He let’s out a hissed grunt before pulling back, staring at the blood coating his length, and then slamming back in.

“Gonna fuck y’up ‘til y’pass out, heh.” He says in a low voice, almost as if he were talking to himself and directly toward you. Your eyes flutter open and closed, struggling to stay conscious as the feeling of your guts moving and making way for him was too unbearable for you to withstand. You whimper and whine in pain and discomfort, sniffling and crying as you remain rather motionless at this point, too weak to try anything as he used you.

He’s grip on you is tight as he fucks into the wound, groaning as he watches the blood gush out and hit his hoodie, staining it a deep red color and the sight of it on his cock was sending him into a frenzy.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ take it, dirty bitch.” He huffs out, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed together as his abdomen tightens up and his hips stutter in their rough rhythm. He doesn’t care that you’re unconscious or either dead at this point. You would be anyways once he finished in your guts and made sure you couldn’t draw another breath afterwards. “You’re fuckin’ mine, dumb slut— Fuckkk, that’s it, j’st be a good rapeslut f’me, ngh, and take it.”

#! doll takes notes !#! sessions !#jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x female reader #jeff mason smut #jeff mason x reader

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ask-the-badman · 4 months ago

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"Y'know, despite you being a sick man and all," the woman peers down at him, watching him cuddle up, soothing his flushed and clammy, sickly skin against the slightly cooler flesh of her plush breast. Humming a cheeky little sound, almost like a giggle, as she feels his barely-there stubble graze across her soft cleavage.

With a playful, and sassy scrunch of her nose that she's twisted up at him one too many times before, "I think you could figure it out," gentle lips placing a squeaky kiss to his sweaty, greasy mane.

"Hell, you're pretty much more than halfway there." She hints, adding a wink before making the offer more clear as she shimmies her pillowy bust against his weary face.

Any other time, she would have just smothered his sticky face in them, but— he is sick and running a mild fever at that. It'd almost be cruel to suffocate him in the heat of her cleavage while he was trying to relax and cool down. Even down to the way he was clinging to her... it was... sweet— disgusting. Totally awful. And that's exactly why she started running her long nails in soothing trails and traces down his arm and side, to his back and up again, fingers crawling over his neck... just a soothing little loop of tiny movements.

Sluggishly tilting his head to look up, Johnny's tired eyes narrowed faintly up at the sassy woman before slowly blinking. The gears in his mind grinding to figure out what she meant, and likely would have gotten it right away if his skull didn't feel like it was fit to burst and filled with fog. Though the moment her breast pressed against his face, he figured it out with a faint, breathy chuckle.

"Heh, well then... suppose I can' pass up an' offer like that~" he murmured while nuzzling to her bosom, humming faintly while that manicured hand soothed over him.

It nearly put him to sleep, but the offering of 'something better to drink' was still on his mind as he used one hand to lazily paw along her side. Up her ribs until the back of his knuckles found soft flesh and gave the underside a small nudge. Asking without words before moving over to the other one, the one he was leaning on, to do the same in prodding it lightly. Like a kitten kneading its Mother's belly for sustenance.

#johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer #ask the badman #tcm game #johnny rp #dommymommy rp #rp #sick boy johnny

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alparlaboratories · 9 months ago

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To Another Abyss - Chapter 5: It's only over once it's over.

(Chapters -which are usually between 500-1000 words- will be posted daily here first on Tumblr, and will later be posted in 7-8 chapter batches on AO3.)

Kanto has changed a lot in the past ten years. The League is no more, and trainers are now only tools for the rich and powerful, either mercenaries or dogs of the government.

Sabrina is the latter. She is to play the role of Gym leader in a sick, twisted mockery of the art she once admired, bearing the name of her childhood idol, a woman who is now wanted across the region. All for the entertainment of Kanto’s shadowy new rulers.

It’s a role she doesn’t mind playing. At least until an unusual challenger comes into her Gym, into the life she’s worked so hard to build, and begins to unravel it all.

Chapter 5: It's only over once it's over:

Sabrina studied the Scyther carefully, doing her best to conceal her worry. A swift, hard-hitting bug-type, surely with loads of combat experience… could she have gotten a worse opponent?

To make things worse, they'd agreed to a one on one duel, so this would be decided in an instant.

She threw her own Pokeball out, and from the blast of light emerged an old, frazzled Hypno wearing a pair of colorful yellow glasses. The Pokemon bristled, seemingly not bothered by his opponent's chilly glare. Sabrina knew him well, and knew that despite his frail appearance no other Pokemon from the Gym could match his smarts and experience.

Against a Scyther, though…?

After weighing all the possible options, the two of them crossed eyes, and nodded. There was only one way out of this, and it involved being smiled on by Lady Luck.

Both Pokemon stared each other down for a moment. Then, emboldened by the blood-thirsty cheers of the audience, they jumped to attack in unison.

"X-Scissor!" the man bellowed.

"Trick!" Sabrina countered.

The Scyther's speed was beyond compare. A bolt of verdant lightning, he crossed the arena in an instant and slashed upwards with both of his scythes, catching his foe just as the glasses disappeared from his face with a pop. The poor Hypno hit the ground hard, the sheer force of the impact sending him rolling until he crashed against the bars of the cage on the other side. He trembled, one hand against the floor, but could not bring himself even to his knees.

Without a doubt, the man with the cross knew what he was doing.

However, that made him and his Pokemon cocky. The both of them turned toward Sabrina, completely disregarding the Hypno as he raised a small berry and shoved it in his mouth.

Sabrina very pointedly didn't turn to look. Which was good, as the next instant the giant bug Pokemon shot toward her. He stopped within an inch of killing her, scythe raised to her neck with practiced control, barely brushing her skin. From this close, she could see that pair of yellow glasses adorning his face.

"Woah, easy there." Sabrina raised her hands in a show of surrender, earning a storm of boos from the audience.

"Nice one, Clay! You knocked it out of the park!" The man with the cross cheered with a big, dumb smile. "I'm very proud, buddy!"

Despite the danger of the situation, Sabrina couldn't help but roll her eyes again. She had to keep up the façade. The cool, calculating Scyther with a blade to her neck. The dumb, arrogant trainer smiling like an idiot. The young Gym leader with her hands raised, far from her Pokeballs, looking nervous.

"Well? What now?" asked the man, raising both hands and shrugging. "I'm disappointed. Seems like the rumors were all exaggerated."

A smirk formed on Sabrina’s lips. "Heh."

"What's so funn–?"

"Disable."

Eyes shooting wide, the Scyther tried to turn around. But Hypno was now possessed by an abnormal speed, and barraged his foe with a sudden wave of psychic energy, throwing him off of his trainer.

"Wh–Clay's Salac Berry!?"

Sabrina's grin widened maliciously across her face.

"Psychic."

The burst of concentrated energy blasted the Scyther in the face, sending him across the room. His trainer balled his hands into fists, eyes wide with panic.

"X-Scissor!"

But the Scyther didn't move. Couldn't. His body quivered with the bug's desire to attack, but it was as though every muscle in his arms had been paralyzed. He couldn't raise his scythes.

"Shit, Struggle!?" he cursed, realization dawning on him. "Of course, the Choice Specs…!

The rest of the fight was predictable. Unable to use his arms, the Scyther flew at Hypno in an attempt to tackle him, but slammed against the ground again and again, as the Salac berry had given him more than enough speed to dodge each of his attacks. The old Hypno barraged the poor insect with burst after burst of psionic power, until finally he hit the ground like a brick, smoking from head to toe. Hypno looked down at his fallen foe and struggled a step back, heaving from pain but still very much capable of fighting.

He knew what came next.

With an expression that bordered on demonic, Sabrina pointed at the man with the cross, and the wizened Hypno obeyed without question, raising a hand aflame with purple wisps of power.

Yet, to Sabrina's disappointment, her opponent didn't look scared or worried in the slightest. Instead, he hung his head and closed his eyes, balled fists trembling.

He was pissed.

"Y-you… backstabbing, traitorous…!" He seriously looked on the verge of losing it from anger. "What kind of trainer does something like that!? You're a disgrace to all Gym leaders!"

Sabrina raised an eyebrow, and chuckled. "Right…"

Unconcerned, she took an old iron lighter from her pocket and flipped it open, lighting a cigarette as she took it to her mouth.

"You wanted to win too cleanly," she said through puffs of smoke. "If you hadn't been such a good boy and actually killed me when you had the chance, you'd be leaving this place with my badge and my fame. But you didn't, because you're a loser. That your Pokemon is superior to your opponent's in all aspects doesn't guarantee your victory, priest."

She shoved the lighter back in her pocket and returned the Hypno to his Pokeball. Then she turned around and started walking away.

"You'd do well to remember that."

Fists trembling, pupils shrunken by rage, the man with the cross yelled as the Gym leader disappeared into darkness.

"I won't let this stand! I'll never accept your way of fighting! I'll be back tomorrow, and then I will beat you! You'll see!"

#pokemon #fanfiction #ocs #to another abyss #tales of reborn #kanto

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sadnesslaughs · 2 years ago

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You have a coffee shop, and you always treat everyone kindly, whether they are heroes or villains. Everything was going well until a young hero decided to read your mind.

“Hi, welcome to Sanctuary, the coffee shop that caffeinates everyone. What can I get you today?” I smiled, fingers hovering over the register as I prepared to take the order. Ugh, I can’t believe how stupid some of these villains look. Look at this idiot, wearing a black and red suit. What is he, Shadow the hedgehog? What’s his special power, listening to an alternative band while whining about the system? Seriously, the rookies get worse with every batch. I thought, letting out a small chuckle at my Shadow joke, picturing it in my head. Heh, imagine him with those big spiky… Is he staring at me? Why’s he staring at me like that? It’s not like he’s said his order yet. Does he want me to do something? “Um-“

“I’m not a villain.” He hissed, body shaking as he pushed out those words.

“Never said you were, sir. Heroes get a ten percent discount. We have to support our heroes in everyway we can.” Yeah, support the idiots that stink up my store with their sweaty costumes. At least the villains have the decency to shower after getting their asses kicked. Nope, not the heroes. They strut in, dripping in blood like a newborn lion cub presenting a meal to its mother. It makes me sick.

“You support heroes? You don’t seem the type. Sure you aren’t a villain?” Now he was swaying? What had him so worked up? Did he have to use the toilet or something? Why’s he so focused on me? He knows he’s in a coffee shop, right?

“I do. I appreciate the work you do, Shado- um, I mean… hero? Sorry, I don’t know your name. Anyway, what can I get you?” I said, trying to speed things along.

“Ugh… If you support heroes, why do villains get a discount too?” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. The way he planted his feet against the floor told me he wasn’t planning on leaving without an explanation. Some heroes were utter time wasters. Why couldn’t they focus on boring the villains to death with conversation? Why target civilians like me?

“Because playing favorites would get me killed. I’m sorry if that offends you. I let the heroes’ guild know my reasoning, and they not only approved it, but encouraged it. They understand my work can have hostilities and by not playing favorites, I’m able to keep both my work and personal life safe. Now, what will you have?”

Why was he so upset? I didn’t do anything to the little idiot. It’s not like I enjoy serving villains either, they cause me more pain than the heroes. Sure, villains are the better customers, but they’re far worse people. It’s not like a hero has ever made me late to work. Just yesterday I missed a whole day’s work because Mr. Demolition blew up the Northside bridge. Real kicker was that he didn’t even mean to blow up that bridge, getting his norths and souths mixed up. So, I missed work because a villain didn’t remember Never Eat Soggy Weet-bix. Lovely.

“I’ll have a strawberry latte.” He said, eyeing me. What did he expect me to say, something smart? Sure, it’s funny that edgehog wants a strawberry latte, but I would never say that to his face.

“Excellent choice. Any cream?” Again, he glared at me. He must have been having a rough day. At least that makes two of us. He was having a bad day, and I was stuck serving him. What a twisted hell we were dancing in!

“No. Make it quick, I’m busy.” He held out his discount card, and I gave a polite smile.

“Of course. I won’t waste your time.” Not like you wasted mine… I scanned the card and took a peek at his hero name. Dark Spiral. How was that worse than I could have imagined? Oh, I’m the Dark Spiral, fear my spin of malice. “Pfft.”

“Something funny?” Oh, he was leaning over the counter now. He looked like he wanted to squeeze my head off. Seriously, what was his problem? I handed the card back, trying not to smirk.

“No, sir. Nothing’s funny. Good hero name. I’m sure you’re going to be an amazing hero someday. Well, even better than you already are.” I finished making the red drink and set it on the counter. “Thank you for supporting a small business. I hope you have an excellent day.” As I said that, my hand stretched out, hovering over the tip jar, having two separate ones. One for heroes and one for villains. The villains always won, mainly because they needed somewhere to dump their stolen money. Still, I wasn’t complaining. It’s not like I could tell if the money was stolen or not.

He didn’t answer me, snatching the drink and storming towards the door. Typical hero, such tight-asses when it comes to money. Oh, sure. They’re happy to promote a charity for some good PR, but they would never give a dime of their own money. Heroes and villains, what costumed losers. As that thought crossed my mind, Dark Spiral turned, his finger shaking as he raised it to the heavens. Was he about to say something? Did he actually want cream? Before he spoke, a hesitation seemed to fall over him, instead turning and leaving.

“Weird.” As he left, I went back to serving customers, still thinking about that encounter throughout the day. What a strange hero. I’ve never seen someone glare at me so intently before. Must have been having a really bad day. I wonder what his power is? I should have checked it when I took his hero card. Oh, well. Not like it mattered.

#short stories #writing #writing prompt #story #writer

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snezfics-n-shit · 9 months ago

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Sicktember Day 16: Toxin/Poison

Fandom: Ace Attorney Characters: Adrian Andrews, Matt Engarde Notes: Working for Matt Engarde fucking sucks. That’s literally what I wrote down the first time I really sat and pondered this prompt. Adrian finds herself literally sickened from working as Engarde’s manager and she’s trying so hard to make it through another day on the job. Takes place before 2-4, just as Adrian is starting her career as Engarde’s manager.

Adrian Andrews knew beforehand that becoming the manager of the man who remorselessly took part in her mentor’s death would not be an easy task. She knew what Matt Engarde’s facade of “refreshing as a spring breeze” was just that: a facade. Engarde acted in a way beyond Adrian’s comprehension, so ready to tear an innocent woman’s life apart just to get ahead of a man who was just as despicable in his jumping to break off an engagement as if his fiancee were tainted from having been in a previous relationship. This knowledge should have made Adrian more than prepared for the intense malaise that hovered over her each time Engarde was even a thought in her mind, but it still managed to catch her by surprise each time her energy was quickly depleted and her stomach twisted in a way so intense that if she didn’t know any better, she would have used all her sick days already.

“Do you even know who I am?” The entitlement-soaked faux-easygoing voice was enough to both snap Adrian out of her third time spacing out on the job as well as make the air around her feel thin.

“Mr. Engarde, they do know–” Adrian thoughtlessly spoke up, forgetting that any attempt at making Engarde see the reality of any situation would simply roll off his back as if nothing had been said at all, at least after a thorough chewing out from him on the defense.

Engarde rolled his eyes and showed Adrian the palm of his hand before returning to his so-called negotiation… of which Adrian had already forgotten. Adrian flinched, prompting a near-silent laugh from Engarde.

“Yeah, Matt Engarde.” He repeated into the phone, slowly and more enunciated as if the person on the receiving end could not understand him. “The Nickel Samurai? The hero everyone’s actually coming to see? Let’s be real here, nobody’s attending this event for Captain Side-pan or whatever. They want to see me. Isn’t that enough of a reason for the Nickel Samurai posters to be displayed at the entrance?”

Oh, right. The Hero Show performance at a local amusement park this weekend. Adrian had started the call to the event’s higher-ups as per Engarde’s request, but his impatience led to him snatching the phone from her hands because he wasn’t getting what he wanted fast enough.

Just remembering that whole ordeal was making Adrian feel dizzy and sick again.

The hotel bed looked awfully tempting. Adrian could have sworn she had a brief out-of-body experience, hovering over to the bed and nestling herself under the blanket that felt so cheap despite this being a luxury hotel. When it finally registered with her that she had never actually left her seat at all, the pang of disappointment was negligible compared to the heaviness looming over her.

The heaviness only got worse as Engarde’s voice filled every corner of the suite. Unfortunately, this was an experience Adrian had encountered often since she began working for him. It was like she was drowning in everything he said and did.

Engarde being… Engarde radiated from him in a way that was comparable to what remains of Chernobyl. Adrian would never admit it out of fear of sounding completely out of her mind, but she felt like being in his presence was slowly killing her.

He was poison.

The slam of him hanging up the phone snapped Adrian out of her drowning in dry air.

“Heh, what are they gonna do without me?” Engarde muttered with a smirk. From what Adrian could hear, he must have called off his appearance as his means of ‘punishing’ the people he deemed responsible for the heinous crime of not advertising the Nickel Samurai more than they already had.

“Should I make arrangements for an appearance elsewhere, Mr. Engarde?” Adrian asked monotonously. She may not have had much pride in herself for most things, but her ability to reframe her insecurity in making any decisions into simply being a diligent manager was something she considered to be a talent.

“No, no. I’ll take this weekend off.” Engarde leaned back with his arms behind his head.

If Adrian didn’t know better, she would assume this meant she would be taking the weekend off as well. Engarde would never let that happen, not when Adrian was growing more sure he received his energy from leeching off hers.

She glanced at the clock and thanked the passage of time for allowing her the opportunity to turn in for the night.

“Well, then. Goodnight, Mr. Engarde.” She struggled to say, just as she struggled to navigate to the suite’s pull-out couch that was designated as her bed.

Maybe Engarde couldn’t see the amount of shaking Adrian was sure her body was doing. Maybe he just didn’t care. Maybe Adrian was just imagining it all. Even as she clutched onto the sheet for balance, the possibility this was all just made up as some subconscious mechanism of her simply not wanting to be working took on the sensation of a boulder pressing on her stomach.

She set her glasses on the nearest nightstand before lying down. She forced her eyes shut and did her damndest to breathe as deeply as she could without being heard.

She needed a good night’s rest, after all, to prepare for tomorrow’s cup of poison.

#snez attorney #my writing #my fics #sicktember #sicktember 2024

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mugreen · 7 months ago

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@yaybatman DUDE I WHOLEHEARTEDLY AGREE. I recently read the three jokers cuz it was such an interesting premise for funsies and then at the end they did this twist (spoilers up ahead) where it ends up being that jokers family wanted to get away from him and they faked their deaths?.??. And batman knew his name week one after joker became joker. Wtf is that. Sorry it just felt like such a weak twist. Like oh, actually 🤓🤓 joker was a bad person even still!! Teehee another twist to his backstory!! Bro idgaf, do something interesting with who joker is currently!

What makes him tick?? What would happen if actually hes on the brink, whats he do when hes genuinely cornered, when his mask is off?? Whats his perspective on things, what are his thought processes??? Interpersonal relationships?,?,Does he get his suits tailored bro?? does bro have chronic pain issues??? does joker loathe not having powers or does he take that in stride? (Look i havent read all the comics so im unsure if these r answered sorry :0)

I dont like this reliance on tkj if that even makes sense. I dont even like the whole thing of his life revolving around ONLY batman. Im sure yes he finds batman interesting as hell (hehe) but RAHH IM SORRY IM JUST SICK OF “batman created the joker heh >:0)! The joker ONLY cares about batman!! without batman! Crime has no punchline 😈” i feel like there can be more to it than that. i like to think he was doing crime way before batman, before gotham, but he just showed up one day as if he always existed there!

In then end, it rlly does just feel so.. wrong in a way to give this queercoded man a wife, i wouldnt mind if jokers bi or pan fr, but the thing that irks me is this sense of full erasure, like purposefully making it so joker is in a heterosexual relationship and has a kid on the way. Like to “prove” to ppl that yeah hes straight, and even with his makeup, now its not makeup, its from the vat of chemicals actually, staining his lips red and bleaching his skin ☝️ further erasing that originally queer subtext where he would put on makeup. It feels so weird. I dont necessarily need joker to be gay (although i absolutely think hes gay or queer in some way), but they cannot deny the queer subtext (that i acknowledge definitely was put in for negative reasons, making this queer coded character an outcast who is bad and a villain etc etc. very clear motives there.)

Its so weird that theyd erase those specific parts of him. Not even weird just.. downright angering. Bcuz ur erasing jokers queerness… why? Its weirder to erase these traits that this character consistently has had. I know its prolly to better appease to an audience, but think about like…. Why does erasing his traits do that.

Like own up to it at this point, jokers traits were put there for a reason but now you can use that in a different way, rather than completely erasing those traits that ppl do relate to. Or even his clown theme, or the way he curates his appearance. He tends to look not well put together or trashed when jokers whole personality is putting on a show. He puts on fancy suits bro, and does his hair and makeup. Let him do just that. And the thing is, it would be far more interesting if they did decide to recognize that joker is a queer man. So many ways to explore that, so many things to analyze and nope. Joker just likes being edgy and stuff lol 🤓‼️ thats it. BRO LIKE I WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT HIM!!! FUCKKKK. WITH THIS BACKSTORY ITS LIKE THEY R OBSESSED NOT WITH JOKERS CHARACTER, BUT ABOUT HIS BACKSTORY ONLY. JUST LIKE OVER AND OVER WITH REDHOOD AND JASON TODD!! (Which btw other than that being a poll i dont think joker would dare kill a robin not out of being nice but out of not wanting to break this precarious thing with batman. his life doesnt revolve around batman, but he definitely starts to find comfort and routine in their “dance”)

Im gunna be real I prefer jokers backstory to not be known. I personally dont see the ace chemicals backstory as canon, nor do i see joker killing jason todd as canon (since.. people literally voted to kill a child instead of a literal murderer 😭 joker himself would find this ironic like what)

Idk i dont like how DC keeps trying to de-mystify joker, or make him rlly gritty and edgy (same with batman, bats is meant to be compassionate, not an asshole!!!) like wtf happened to jokers clown schtick, hes ripping his face off and its like. Why is that actually boring? The writers keep trying to one up each other in who can make joker do the “darkest” shit and its so predictable and boring. Where is the funny clown. The funny idiot smart genius clown weirdo villain. The guy who curates his appearance and crimes?

The creators themselves say there isn’t a definitive backstory, which i much rather prefer. idk why but the vat of chemicals story being seen as his origin story just doesnt sit right with me. I like a joker who deadass has to put on his makeup, or fuck it id rather not know why he has pale skin. I like the idea that hes as human as batman (i always thought it cool that they both dont use powers! Especially since batman is so adamant on preferring not to have powers anyway). Ppl say “oh but hes scarier if hes kinda inhuman or just a killer” or somn and its like, isnt it scarier that he is human? killers in the real world are human, and so is joker. U cant change that. even if joker himself loathes the idea that hes fallible. Isnt it scarier to think wow. That rlly hes as human as any of us and yet he does the things he does? That the range of humanity extends to cruelty?

“They've given many origins of the Joker, how he came to be. That doesn't seem to matter—just how he is now. I never intended to give a reason for his appearance. We discussed that and Bill [Finger] and I never wanted to change it at that time. I thought—and he agreed—that it takes away some of the essential mystery."

– Jerry Robinson, the Joker's creator

#gosh i meant to post this earlier but completely forgot it was even in my drafts #also its so everywhere im sorry ahhh #also its not like i loathe ppl who see tkj as canon #i just have personal preferences honestly #just in case it needed to be said

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yuukei-yikes · 2 years ago

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do you think shintaka ever sort out their codependency or does it just get worse

*cracks knuckles*

they do sort it out. but it's obviously not super ideal lol

in my sick twisted mind it is all stitched together with the mess of shinaya too. I WANNA WRITE A FIC SO BAD *banging table* i have this very specific relationship hell for shintaro thought out. *scratches head*

i talk a little bit abt it here and i think in other places but heh. honestly when i link to other posts its not rly like begging u to read them its more like a disclaimer that i might repeat myself which honestly i dont mind doing bc im crazy and im gonna talk abt the same things 1 billion times GLADLY. SO... >:3!!!! ITS MY TIME. have fun:

basically. so the usual right, takane feels like if she isnt watching shintaro all the time he could suddenly revert back to being a shut in and shintaro is comfortable having takane because she's familiar and the single constant in this life and all other lives in all other timelines. ene has always been there. takane = ene while a shock, to shintaro he can barely make a big deal out of it after retaining is activated bc he's seen it a million times. of course takane is ene. if anything the one needing closure over this reveal is takane.

i think post str shintaro is incredibly kind to her about it though. i think he feels immensely guilty for route xxx and is able to be openly thankful and they have a tender moment together. i think this single heart to heart changes everything for them. shintaro acts annoyed over takane's clinginess post str but becomes terrified when she's away, and sort of desperately looks for her the same way she does for him essentially reciprocating the sick need of each other, the difference is that he tries acting all cool abt it and making excuses while takane is sort of more direct abt like. HEY ARE U ALIVE??? JUST CHECKING IN LOLLL OK TALK TO U LATER ASSHOLE LOVE UUU!!! while shintaro's like ermmm...i was calling u cuz my comp is acting weird?? idk i tried some stuff but id rather u look at it to make sure. and takanes like LOL

like takane is totally delighted. shintaro isn't resenting her, he's gladly accepting her into his life and treating her like a friend and she KNOWS him so she knows that even if he says he wants her away the way he acts says otherwise. like she can read him like a book there is nothing he can hide from her, takane is able to see everything going on thru his mind. no one but her is more mindful abt everything that retaining eyes implies. maybe ayano, but we know which one shintaro is more comfortable about HEH. the fact takane is so direct about knowing about it and how hard it must be is also immensely comforting to shintaro (AGAIN ayano also does this but ayano is scary to shintaro) shintaro reciprocates takane's need for him again bc she is familiar and a comfortable constant but also because she is taking care of feeling all the heavy things for him. shintaro is desperate to stop feeling and takane is desperate to ignore her own feelings. but it doesn't REALLY work. shintaro still feels sad and broken and terrified. and takane still feels overwhelmed and in disbelief and unsure about everything. does this make sense.

takane's thing is like... okay erm. let's put takane under the microscope for a single moment. I'll try not to go TOO crazy.

ok. disclaimer. i could get very fun and nitty gritty abt the misogyny in takane's writing, how all her povs revolve solely around haruka & shintaro and essentially ends up being a female character who revolves everything around 2 guys, if not one the other and etc. but. i will not do that. i will just mention it there in passing and do what u do with it lol. that aside, basically takane is the kind of person who desperately focuses on worrying about someone else so she doesn't have to think of herself and her own problems.

takane is dealing with... a lot. because she had given up on life. well life gave up on her rather. she was dead you know. she decides to dedicate herself to shintaro and shintaro alone. her purpose was being company for him and keep him moving. and all of a sudden she finds herself alive and having to face the life she unwillingly left behind, and everything that comes with that like. having a body, being honest with haruka, accepting her illness is a part of her, etc. i think takane deals with a lot of existential crisis LMAOO like she CANNOT BELIEVE she is real. she has 1 line saying she felt like the whole time she was ene felt like a dream and it felt like a relief to hear shintaro talk to her as takane because it made her see it really happened. and i took this line and RAN WITH IT‼️‼️‼️

shintaro needs to be needed by takane and takane needs to be needed by shintaro. lol. they got 30 mental illnesses💗 but the thing is. one has retaining and the other doesn't 💥

their relationships to haruka & ayano are important in this and play a huge part in it too not only because its REALLY REALLY REALLY funny for takane to ditch haruka all the time to go find shintaro's wallet or something and for shintaro to tell ayano ok u can sleep over tonight i practiced cuddling with takane so im all good to go like that wont make ayano scream in her pillow for the next day. like theyre so sick in the head. but anyways ITS SO mixed in with shinaya's sick as hell relationship that i already wrote like 80 posts about and im not repeating myself im just gonna assume u know what i mean LIKE THIS IS WHY I NEED TO WRITE A FANFIC whatever.

as that happens with shinaya (like actual dumpster fire sirens going off glass breaking trashcan falling over etc) takane has haruka. haruka has his own set of problems feeling not good enough for her + survival guilt (for konoha) + terrified of being alone again. but takane's aware of the codependent issue basically bc haruka keeps telling her even if not as firmly and she would need so it takes longer than ideal. it's like present in her mind that it's a totally fucked up way too feel. also haruka & takane are totally in the same page abt holy shit we're ALIVE?? AND WE HAVE OUR BODIES??? WE HAVE TO FACE OUR LIVES AND MOVE FORWARD?? WE'RE IN OUR TWENTIES??? AUGGHHHH lol they go thru it together MAN I LOVE HARUTAKA sorry im normal. i know jin is allergic to giving takane a problem that isnt related to a guy but to me she also goes thru the same omg im in my twenties thing as haruka. bc like. yeah hiyori and ayano were stuck in the daze too but haruka was also watching everything outside. like takane he was a painful bystander. even if takane's spirit wasnt in the daze she was still playing a sorta similar role outside. like u can watch but u can barely do anything!! because youre DEAD!! haruka&takane understand each other's struggles more than anyone else, and suddenly they're alive and also the oldest in the group and they're like. ok lol. let's fucking go i guess. haruka and takane existentialism crisis crying for 3 hours then having to pull themselves together bc they have to do groceries. the horrors are indescribable but we have to pay rent. i love harutaka *shaking*

and haruka is super comprehensive about takane's thing with shintaro even if it's mixed in with all his feelings of omg takane prefers him omg takane is super best friends with the dan who all probably resent me for replacing konoha omg im gonna be alone augghhh like lol he's GOING THRU IT TOO but!!! takane also helps him!!!!!! theyre there for each other!!! they dont weaponize these things against each other, in fact it brings them closer. total opposite to shintaro and ayano. so takane's getting out of this mindset before shintaro does and she is really self aware and slowly making progress and ermmm becoming a little pissed off abt how he takes her for granted. bc he does.

again. takane is a constant. that means she is always here. in shintaro and takane's relationships it doesnt go both ways how they help each other. they dont help each other, takane helps shintaro and thats it. ene's always been secretive and ene is always been ene and now ene is always been takane and while shintaro knows this he's also never... had takane as takane before? so even if she's familiar and accepting her helicoptering over him, he's also totally preoccupied with all his other issues to even think about takane's side of things. shintaro despite his babygirl tendencies is at the end of the day a very self centered person, its hard for him. i dont mean it to say he sucks or anything. i think its genuinely rly hard for him!! he's going through a lot!! and he's bad with people and words and emotions!! he doesnt... stop being self centered though. not for now at least. and takane isnt exactly begging him to help her or anything because HARUKA is helping her with her issues. while shintaro is trusting everything on takane, and ayano is begging him to open up to her, takane is trusting haruka and continuously lets him help her and also helps him with his stuff. like shinaya and harutaka are dealing with similar situations in TOTALLY different ways

so for shintaro to find out/realise takane is also hurting he's like oh my god im such an ASS because OF COURSE SHE IS!!! but he's like i thought letting her be insane abt me was enough help??? bc AGAIN he hasn't really recognized that it actually goes both ways and he needs her as much as she needs him. it only becomes apparent when takane is needing him less and less bc she's been healing outside of their fucked up dynamic and he's like wait a damn moment???!!!!! so he's like TAKANE why didn't u say anything!!! and takane's like erm idk. it just kinda played out like that it's fine haruka is there for me im working on it and stuff and shintaro is SOOO insane abt it because realising takane's been relying on someone else takes him out of this familiarity and he's like oh my god TAKANE IS ALIVE HARUKA IS ALIVE AYANO IS ALIVE OH MY GOD THEYRE ALL MOVING ON WITHOUT ME OH MY GOD and its so uncomfortable for him. its so uncomfortable to see takane with haruka the same way it makes him uncomfortable to be with ayano because it makes him so painfully aware of like. THIS IS THE GOOD ENDING. yknow.

anyways... shinaya breakup happens lol!!! takane is again here to pick up the pieces. and shintaro is SO broken over this that takane soooorta reverts back bc YIKES HES NOT DOING GOOD. shintaro is clinging on her so bad it makes him look stupid. like i said in the insane shinaya reply. being back to being despaired over ayano and crying on takane is familiar! self sabotage at its finest, its pain that he knows. new things he hasnt seen are terrifying!!! and this way.... takane is away from haruka, rather paying attention to him instead and he is dragging her down with him!!! its awful but its comforting to think for him like YES!!! TAKANE IS ALSO BAD!!! TAKANE IS ALSO STUCK WITH ME!!!! BTW THIS IS ALL ON AN UNCONSCIOUS LEVEL FOR SHINTARO LMAO.

but takane is AWARE... like yeah she gets he's sad over his breakup but takane doesnt TOTALLY revert back. like by this point its been a long time and she's totally aware of their codependency & working on it & already resenting a little how shintaro takes her for granted. and when it's been long enough and shintaro is still pathetically sobbing abt ayano, takane's been back in ene mode trying to distract him and cheer him up like always but she's like. man i have a job to get to. can we wrap this up for today. LOL LIKE takane has a fucking life so even if shintaro's (unconsciously) like omg yess its like it used to be, it isnt because takane has shit to take care of outside of him😭 she can be like. sorry man i gotta go i got a thing with haruka and shintaro's like ???? because... "normally" she would cancel on haruka for him and now she wont and shintaro's like wh??? and maybe he points it out and it REALLY pisses takane off LOLLL

ok so takane ticking time bomb abt to tell shintaro off + shinaya breakup + kanoshin insanity. *rubs hands together* shintaro about to accidentally finish destroying his relationship with takane that's already hanging by a thread. because he's dealing with all the guilt over his breakup with ayano and the newly found kinship with kano(+internalized homophobia) and he's like... so desperate. he's like. ok. there is 1 person in this world who will still have me and make me feel normal abt being this way.

sorry for shipping shintaka and being insane. shintaro wants to date takane. SORRY I KNOW its born from an insane fucked up situation and its truly the last straw for takane because she's like WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUIUUUT WHAT THE HELLLLLL bc shintaro's only going to her bc 1. to make me feel straight 💥 2. to make me feel valid💥💥💥 LIKE HES NOT THINKING OF HER FEELINGS AT ALL and i do think he'd fall for her in a little fucked up way like well idk??? i dont know but i definitely think shintaro&takane feel a very specific way abt each other and in his desperation shintaro decided to call it love LOL. takane would treat it sensibly if SHE DIDNT FUCKING KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON and she sends him to hell for it LOLLLL !!!!! this also distances haruka & shintaro because SHINTARO KNEW haruka is insanely self conscious and insecure and always treated the situation with kid gloves in fear of takane being like lol u dont like me hanging out with shintaro?? bye then. like he knows haruka has always been scared of takane choosing shintaro over him (even if not romantically) and then HE GOES AND DOES THAT AND even someone like haruka is like. bro... because listen by this point!!! haruka and takane have grown A LOT as people and as a couple while shintaro was stuck in this insane quarrel with ayano and himself and has his head so far up his own ass he couldn't see how horrible of an idea it is until he does it and ends up fucking up with friendship with both takane AND haruka. fun

SO............. umm. ur question. yes they do sort it out. shintaro has to grow a lot though. i think its his fallout with takane that is his last straw and he sort of realises he has got to make a change and accept this reality as terrifying as it is. its definitely a quartet fallout too. ofc they makeup!! ofc shintaro apologizes, of course they start talking again (i don't think they'd go long without talking btw i think takane's just like we. need time apart) and ofc they get to a point where the quartet is all together again even if shintaro and ayano are broken up, they get to be on friendly terms after enough time apart, and shintaro and takane can also be normal friends. they are still bestest friends but definitely more proper and shintaro now acts like a person to takane instead of taking her for granted and is there for her like a proper friend would be and etc. ofc it gets to that!!! but lol. isnt it so fun to have a circus first :3

THEY JUST NEED A BIT OF TIME APART..... but they are best of friends. they're one of a kind to each other💗 erm. Hi

#SORRY FOR GOING CRAZY AGAIN. WHATEVER.#ask tag #headcanons #shintaro: quit your job #takane: what #shintaro: break up with your boyfriend move back in with me.#ayashin divorce

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