#sharpsuite (chishiya)

[hiemalsborderland]

fanart for @sharpsuite and their fic :) app ; clip studio paint brush(es) ; textured pen literally spent like 40 min trying to get chishiya's face right omg

[cartelheir]

@sharpsuite : Chishiya lifts his eyes from his book when Pat walks into the room, his head tilted as if he's considering asking something or not. It seems like he won't, until he finally does. " Do you have Valentine's Day plans? It seems like the kind of holiday you'd have elaborate plans for. " Maybe. He's not actually that certain what people do for days like this but who better to ask than Pat?

" i don't know. " she resists the urge to groan, to tell him not to remind her of the upcoming holiday. this close to it, she should have something planned by now. how did she lose track of all her one-month relationships just as february was approaching? this the first time, since she had her very first boyfriend, that pat is close to spending valentine's day alone; the years before, she always managed to secure a date at the very least.

it's stupid to be upset, really. she's fine alone ━ or rather, single. for the first time in her life she's been able to actually develop a deep friendship that's been better for her than any boyfriend ever was. she's at peace. still, the thought of her romantic life being left aside fills her with more anxiety than she'd like to admit.

" it's four days away. more than enough time to find someone to get laid. " it's true, but the words still sound uncertain, not nearly as enthusiastic as they'd usually be. " why? you got any plans? "

[niragixpsych]

"You’re playing with fire." ( from Chishiya )

›       TENSION   LINER   PROMPTS

An clearly amused snort left Niragi's lips after he heard those words coming from the smaller male. His eyes darkened as he took a step closer to Chishiya, feeling no need to have his rifle with him in this situation. He was curious to find out what the spoken words were meant to trigger inside of him. The militant knew the other well enough to know he didn't speak up without having a result in mind. Chishiya surely loved to push his buttons whenever he could, to get an reaction out of him and Niragi would never back down from a challenge.

"I'm playing with fire?" Niragi asked, the tone of his voice threatening on purpose as he kept the eye contact. "Maybe playing with fire is exactly what I want to do. Maybe you should better run... so you don't get burned." This time his voice was a whisper, but he knew the smaller male had heard him.

[samuhelll]

@sharpsuite asked: ❛  this day feels like it’s never gonna end.  ❜ 𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑴 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑷𝑻. 𝑰 (accepting)

Sam sits deep enough so that the back of his chair slants. The hour encroaches slowly towards night, and though the blinds are drawn, he can well imagine that the sun has started to slither down past the concrete city and behind the dead, empty streets. 

This man with his long, bleached hair and too-cool-for-school look— Sam actually wishes, really, that the power worked. He’d charge his phone. He’d catch something on TCM. Turn on the radio. 

“You should’ve seen it back when. You guys- sure, you have your computers and your smartphones—power to you—but the golden days? I’m talking wallball, 25-cent comics, and this little thing I like to call” —he holds up his hands. He waits for it— “soul-searching.” 

Clever. Sam keeps his elbows on the desk. A battery-powered clock still ticks, counting down the seconds. All of this to say—

“Two words.” Sam smiles. “Carpe diem.”

Life is what you make it and seize the day. Or as much as a death-trap city will let you.

[mgcoin]

@sharpsuite sent: receiver shows up on sender's doorstep covered in blood ( heh for the criminal au w/ Chishiya! )

blood, blood, gallons of the stuff !

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The former YouTube star had spent months doing favours for Chishiya, he wondered whether he had earned the sneaky cat's trust yet, or whether he was just feigning it in order to get the indebted Myung-gi do tick off errands off his long list. Despite that, he committed to it but on this particular night, there was more than what Myung-gi had bargained for. Encountering a rival gang from another territory, who had seemingly recognised Myung-gi as the one who scammed his viewers into investing in Dalmatian coin had chased him. He wasn't as physically fit as he used to be and thus was caught easily. The events and words traded were... Quite brutal to say the least.

His face was bloodied first, the crimson stains dripped onto his shirt and coated it like varnish upon nail. They were kind and refined enough to wash his face at least, albeit very badly and borderline torturing him with it. Once they got their payback, they let him go demanding a monetary payback of some kind or else it'll happen again. The experience, while harrowing, was something he had grown used too already. It had happened in Korea before he fled, in the Philippines and now here. It was only a matter of time before viewers on this country found out he was here.

Eventually, Myung-gi would make it home, deciding taking a taxi would be safer than just walking the rest of the way despite the short distance. Once he was at the cat's door, he knocks twice and rings the doorbell. When Chisiya opens it, his bloodied form stumbles into his arms, "Think you can work some of that medical magic on me?"

[antielevator]

@sharpsuite:

  Out of one nightmare and into another. Chishiya’s hands remain hidden in his jacket pockets as he peeks his head into the empty-seeming hospital and is greeted by the LOVELY sight of corpses on the ground. It’s also eerily silent, both inside AND outside now that he thinks about it. He steps inside, carefully moving around the bodies towards the faint sound of voices. It looked like the hospital security room – which would have been where Chishiya went first anyways to look for clues.   “ Hey- Whoa, whoa.  “  Hands immediately lift in a pacifying gesture of surrender as he stares at the other man with a careful, calculating look. The guy in front of him seemed to be a detective, if he had to guess by the getup. Like the ones in the movies – at least compared to the ones in Japan. “ I’d prefer not being shot, detective. “  Maybe it’s too lighthearted of a comment for the carnage in the entry hall of Beacon, but that wasn’t something he cared too much about. “ I’m not a patient. Though, this is quite a scene to stumble across.  “  ( Here you are! I figured at the beginning of the first game would be a good spot! )

It's a total stroke of luck that the guy reacts passively at the sight of a gun. The damn thing's clip isn't loaded; Sebastian had found it on the floor, but with all his effects missing since he'd been hung he'd taken it anyway.

Still, his expression is firm as he slips the (empty) gun into the holster at his side. Even if it had bullets, he'd much rather solve things without having to shoot anybody.

He gestures for the man to put his hands down, stepping forward and doing his best to keep from putting weight on his bleeding leg. The only reason he doesn't wince aloud is because there's someone else in this room with him.

"There's nothing to see, kid." Walking past him, Sebastian pushes the front doors of the hospital open, and though the cold air of Krimson City is a familiar feeling, the sight before him is not.

Though it looks exactly the way it did before Sebastian walked into this building, the lack of people gives him pause. "What...?

"What the hell happened out here?"

[psielapki-a]

@sharpsuite's   chishiya   shuntaro   &   the   fate   /   prompted

❝ oh, you look tired. ❞

                    𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩   𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩   𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴,   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳   𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴   𝘢𝘯𝘥   𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘴   𝘢   𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘴𝘦   𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦   𝘰𝘧   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦   -   𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥   𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴   𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵,   but   as   of   late,   there   was   no   time   to   spare   sitting   by   the   vanity   and   trying   —   &   just   like   that,   the   details   of   her   appearance   remain   a   mystery   to   the   fate.

                    and   perhaps,   they   remain   unnoticed   to   others,   too   —   for   example,   hatter   haven't   said   a   word   about   the   bags   under   her   eyes   nor   the   greyness   of   her   skin,   and   albeit   almost   always   drunk   or   /   and   high,   the   heart's   player   is   observant   of   her   like   more   or   less,   no   one   else.   with   little   exceptions,   that   is.

                    nobody   asked,   unmei   wishes   to   bark   back,   but   after   all   her   encounters   with   the   mischievous   cat,   one   thing's   certain   :   he   doesn't   open   his   mouth   if   there's   no   reason   to.

                    doubting   concern   was   the   motive   behind   his   approach,   it   is   not   crossed   off   the   list   of   things   that   could   stand   behind   the   cause   of   their   meeting,   and   thus   the   neutral   response,   as   to   not   disturb   their   little   allyship.

                    ❝   is   that   so,   ❞   is   all   she   offers,   eyes   still   fixated   on   the   party   below.   it   truly   is   blurry,   but   it's   not   due   to   lighting.   unmei   is,   in   fact,   so   exhausted   she   feels   like   passing   out   —   but   there   are   things   to   be   done,   first   (   seeing   if   all   militants   come   back   from   their   game,   and   in   what   shape   will   they   be,   that   is   ).

                    he   keeps   her   secrets,   she   keeps   his.   whether   for   blackmail   or   not,   making   an   enemy   out   of   one   of   the   executives   would   be   a   foolish   thing   —   especially   if   it's   due   to   an   insult   thrown   his   way   just   because   she's   irritated   &   tired.

[soulmissed]

@sharpsuite: ' this is a cruel world. especially for the little things. ' Most might be appalled that Chishiya would say such thing to someone so young ; but there was no point to dancing around the subject. He's certain the other is aware of this reality whether he should be or not. Chishiya tilts his head in consideration as he glances at the other. " I guess it's just finding what things you can to hold onto and keep going - or so I've heard. "

memes, accepting

august discovers his attention drifting. toward the little elements of the world. (a flower squashed beneath a careless shoe. the pink worm that couldn’t hide itself from the hungry bird.) and auggie, himself, sitting within hospital hallway. the boy was cold, blanket dragged over him.

regardless, he had desperately wanted a change of scenery. the walls of his room had been closing, closing, closing in. “ i hold onto survival. ” he mumbles. palms the fresh bandages around his arm. “ kindness people have shown me. ”

[ghcstwired]

(if you'd like a AiB-themed ask in the Borderlands i offer this but feel free to disregard as well if you don't want one ! )

" I didn't expect to see a familiar face here. " Chishiya's voice is casual and calm as he watches the survivors stumble out of the game venue and back into the empty city of Tokyo: devoid of people and power sans the temporary ones found in the game venues at night. Ten players went in, and six came out. One he'd seen die trying to LEAVE the game venue - the rest must have died inside the game. Chishiya isn't playing tonight - his last game had been the seven of diamonds - giving him seven days before he'd need to play again. He was just OBSERVING. What were the odds of seeing a familiar face? " Are you alright? Moreso in regards to any injuries. "

He stepped into the artificial moonlight, bleeding from the flickering floodlights of the venue, the metallic tang of blood still thick in the air, clinging to his skin like guilt. His jacket was torn, streaked in grime and someone else’s blood, he didn’t know whose. His eyes snapped to the voice, calm and cutting through the silence like a scalpel.

Chishiya.

For a moment, Ryujin just stared, chest heaving. The calmness in Chishiya’s tone felt almost cruel in contrast to the rawness vibrating through his body but maybe it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. ❝…Chishiya. ❞ His voice came out low, hoarse, but steady. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing dirt across his face. ❝ I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew still breathing. ❞

He shifted his weight, briefly glancing back at the others, what was left of them, then back to Chishiya. His body ached in places he couldn’t even name, but he was upright. Still moving…. that counted for something. ❝ No major injuries. Just… scrapes, bruises… the usual trauma package, ❞ he muttered, voice tinged with bitter humor, then his eyes narrowed faintly. ❝ You weren’t in the game, you were watching. ❞ Not a question, an observation. ❝ Studying the outcome? Looking for patterns or just bored? ❞

His tone wasn’t accusing. Not really. It was just Ryujin’s way of clinging to the last threads of sanity, humor, sharpness, and the occasional bite.

[cartelheir]

@sharpsuite :   As CLEVER as Chishiya might be, even he can’t come up with an excuse or explanation for this situation that doesn’t sound as lame as any teenager’s excuse. ( He is, at least, thankful that Niragi didn’t seem to be aware when he’d pulled away with some grumble about bullshit to deal with. Chishiya didn’t doubt there’d be threats of brains splattered against a wall if he had. ) It doesn’t mean Chishiya doesn’t rapidly try to sort through any possible excuse to offer for why Chishiya and Niragi had only been centimeters apart and hidden away in an otherwise empty place. And Niragi’s hands had definitely not been kept to himself – admittedly Chishiya’s had been buried in silk but there’s one benefit to tall assholes and that’s hiding. Even so, he comes up with very little. There really isn’t any good excuse though, is there?    Chishiya just stares at Pat in uncharacteristic silence while he decides the quickest route to escape from the situation. Maybe she didn’t see anything? Though he doesn’t have a good explanation for the lack of yelling or arguing even if she had seen absolutely nothing. Niragi invading Chishiya’s space with threats was something most people saw. This however… “ Pat. “ He manages to slink back behind his usual inscrutable expression, trying to force his shoulders to relax rather than be tense. He was fine, right? It’s a fight to not try to check himself somehow to make sure there were no signs of anything amiss. His hands curl in the pocket of his hoodie. “ Impeccable timing to avoid Niragi. “ He has to fight down a sigh because he’s fairly confident that is not going to work. ( I have sat here giggling through this mess, I leave it up to you to how much she saw or suspects. )

it feels like they've been staring at each other for hours, completely silent. it's uncharacteristic of her; and even chishiya, who's generally more quiet, is more talkative than this with her. she's still processing the image she'd just run into; clear and, unfortunately, unmistakable. and she has the urge to run away from the scene, like she was the one caught doing something wrong. she feels like she could stay right here for years, leaning against the wall and staring off at nothing, and she'll still need longer to figure out how on earth those two had arrived from point A to━━ well, this.

is she pissed? maybe a little bit. not that it's any of her business, but that's the one close friend she has in this place and the guy who almost got her killed not even three days ago. they've miraculously reached a truce, at least for the time being, but there's still a deep bruise on her wrist under her golden bracelet from the previous game. but mostly, she's just surprised. she looks at him when he says her name, doesn't know what to say or if she can say any words at all without laughing. she doesn't think chishiya has realized there's a huge red spot on the side of his neck, for sure to bruise later.

" yeah. " it's like she finally remembers how to move her hands again, and she immediately lights up a cigarette. kuina's journey to quit had been inspiring to her, but maybe pat just doesn't have the same willpower. " it's hard to avoid conflict with niragi, isn't it? always throwing insults, punches, bullets, and, " only then, she allows herself to openly stare at the mark on chishiya's neck, " ... love bites? "

[niragixpsych]

    “ Why are you looking at me like that? “ Niragi might just be patrolling like normal but the watchfulness didn’t go unnoticed. Chishiya holds up his hands as if to pacify with showing himself emptyhanded - excluding the cookie he pops into his mouth right beforehand. “ I’m not doing anything. “ And maybe it’s a situation of the pot calling the kettle black considering Chishiya’s observing everyone else’s movements too, but so what?

Niragi's dark eyes narrowed at Chishiya as he watched him hold up his hands to show him there was nothing in them. There was a certain glint in them, that made it obvious he was in the mood to cause trouble. He stopped and casually leaned his rifle against his other shoulder for a moment. "Like what Chishiya? Like I don't trust or or like I hate your guts?" Niragi's tone was provoking on purpose as he stepped over to the smaller male. "I have seen your face way too many times for my liking during today. I wouldn't be surprised if you were up to no good."

[samuhelll]

“Well. You know what they say.” Sam’s voice is rice paper. He wags a brow. “I don’t just talk the talk. I walk the walk.”

She must see what no one else does, cursed with an irrefutable sixth sense, I see dead people. He huffs a sound halfway to a laugh, and he swallows. 

“How—” His brow pinches, smile skewing. “How— could you know that?” Sam slowly asks. “And what’s it got to do with…”

She remembers. And she’s right. Universal cardiac arrest is a one in a million, a cosmic anomaly, the statistic equivalent of the Big Bang. His brain weaves fledgling possibilities on how she knows. One: she’s met with other survivors. Less likely: they knew before waking up. Amazonian that she is, if anyone were to emerge intact, somewhat immune to the sulfuric acetic bite of amnesia, it would be Ann.

“Alright. So.” Sam takes a breath, unsticking his mouth. “So some guy swoops in, stopping hearts,” he croaks, like making sure they’re on the same page. “And everyone who lost... bought it.”

For real. Not a dream.

It isn’t wrong. Someone did this. It sounds crazy out loud. Village-witch-burned-at-the-stake crazy. The kind of thing rubber rooms were invented for, only that’s the conclusion this is leading to, and no one is laughing. 

Sam clears his throat, running his tongue over a molar. 

“I don’t—” He chuckles, still reeling. “I, uh- met this guy. Had the whole… platinum hair thing?” he says, gesturing nebulously with his hand. “Like Marilyn Monroe?” Sam drops it back down and spins whirlpools into his ramen. “Anyway. Don’t think ‘determined’ is the word I’d use.

“More... don’t hate the player,” he says. “Hate the game.”

" Sneaking out? " Her eyebrows lift at the suggestion and she seems to contemplate it for a long moment. " Mm. More like I STAYED OUT LONGER rather than sneaking out. " She muses after some time with evident thought. " It's been a long time since I thought of those days. "

She tilts her head and sips her drink. " Speaking from experience? " NOT JUDGEMENTAL. At he said, who hasn't?

That topic though seems like background noise compared to the itch in her brain as she stares at the bowl of ramen in front of her. It keeps flitting about her, this thing lurking in her memory. Or not memory? It seems ridiculous to say Sam's bringing it to the surface, but it feels like he is. Sort of. At least making it more active again in a way she'd tried to file away as nothing but survivor's shock.

Her head lifts at the noise, shifting her focus back onto him. She doesn't want to MAKE A POOR IMPRESSION, but it feels like he knows. Something at least, though her voice feels stuck in her throat.

" . . . By any chance, were you a survivor of the incident? " Ann finally asks; " Sorry, that must seem odd. It's just that....Every survivor's heart stopped for a minute. Every single one. Isn't it weird? It's like something happened to us all in that minute. " Ann remarks, resisting the urge to poke at the ramen in front of her. " I always thought it was odd. " She muses, and the glass of her drink is cool against her hand while it feels like they're playing near fire.

PLAYING A GAME. Her painted lips part slightly and her throat feels dry even after she sips at the water. Summer heat at the back of her mind despite the midnight hour and rain they'd sought refuge from. " Yeah. Only the most determined managed to come back alive. " She murmurs and then gives a smile that isn't really a smile. " That was my theory when I first woke up actually. That something happened and only those with a strong enough will survived. I'm not sure how games factors in but it....feels right? " Her brow furrows just slightly. " Do you know what I mean? "

[fraulein-turpentine]

Silly little doodle of Chishiya becoming utterly pathetic the second he gets sick, very heavily inspired by @sharpsuite ‘s fic “buried remnants awoken” on AO3!

[soulmissed]

@sharpsuite: ' you need your rest. ' Chishiya's observation is clinical and focused, sparing no room for pleasantries. " That is, unless you intend to make yourself more sick because you're not letting your body rest and recover. " Chishiya lifts a brow but shrugs. " A professional's observation - but it's your choice. "

memes, accepting

the boy, brown hands balled into bed sheets, wheezes where he’s stood. (shadows around his chestnut eyes like raccoon stripes. a stupid, infuriating lag that comes with illness.) he wobbles. one, two, three.

on his third wobble, august collapses toward an involuntary sit. consider it fate giving him a push.

low, annoyed groan. he drags his hand down his face. scowling wordlessly at medical doctor.

[cartelheir]

" i guess i'll have to take your word for it. " if she's being honest with herself, she can't think of two people with more different temperaments than chishiya and niragi, other than perhaps their disdain for other people. things are not always what they seem beyond surface level, but pat doesn't ask him to elaborate. only shakes her head, a tiny amused smile playing at the corners of her lips. " i can't tell if that makes you a narcissist or if you really just hate yourself. which one is it? "

she only has herself to blame for expecting anything from him, and she knows this. still, it leaves her with a bitter taste in her mouth, the all-too familiar feeling that perhaps it was a mistake to let him get too close, to allow herself to care. so why do his words still spark a sliver of hope inside her chest?

" do you really think that? " she asks, trying to keep her voice casual even though she feels anything but. " that we would've seen each other again? "

He's silent, the weight of her words HEAVIER THAN SHE REALIZES. Clearly simply saying it's Niragi is not enough. He stares at his bottle of water and sets it down. " No. There was no fight or anything of that nature. " WHY? " He reminds me too much of myself. " His nose wrinkles and he's quick to add on. " Not on the surface level, obviously. But how he operates ; sometimes it feels like looking into a mirror. It irritates me. And it irritates me that he can figure things out other's don't. " NEVER ONCE does he use the word hate though. COINCIDENCE OR CHOICE?

Dark eyes flick over to her, observing with that focused look he gets when he's engaged and FIGURING SOMETHING OUT. What is common knowledge to her is not to him. " I would see you again. " Chishiya replies immediately, voice unwavering and solid in confidence. Clearly, regardless of his certainty, that was not that impression she had. It's left a wound and he's not sure what to do about it. He hadn't wanted to hurt her but he likely wouldn't change his plan even if given the chance. " Well. At least it's not the hypothetical. Although this might be a bit more ACTION-ORIENTED than you would have liked.

[vulpinexi]

@sharpsuite🧡 this for a closed adventure. - Chishiya

✼        ━━━━━━   Upon   primrose   sand,   hue   as   gentle   on   the   eye   as   a   vintage   photograph,   there   is   a   steady   warmth   from   the   grains.   Winter   sun   laces   itself   through   her   auburn   soft   filaments,   catching   in   loose,   tousled   curls   that   flutter   against   the   nape   of   her   neck.   Sea   hums   nearby.   This   is   her   oasis,   her   escape   from   the   sterile   walls   and   clinic   routines.   No   one   ever   professed   that   pursuing   a   vocation   in   medicine   would   be   effortless.   Despite   being   applauded   as   a   prodigy,   she   knows   better   than   to   believe   such   commendation   makes   the   path   ahead   any   less   daunting.   Seated   on   the   sand,   she   inhales   the   oceanic   aroma   and   lets   her   eyes   fall   once   more   on   the   document   in   her   hands,   a   patient   file.   The   next   life   she’s   meant   to   touch,   penned   in   diagnosis   codes   and   succinct   observations.   She   sighs,   quiet   but   exhausted.   “It   would   be   so   much   easier,”   she   murmurs   to   herself,   “if   they   allowed   us   to   meet   the   person   first,   rather   than   hand   us   these   insipid   pages.”

Orihime   brushes   windblown   hair   from   her   cheek,   gaze   lingering   on   the   paper.   Next   week,   she   steps   into   a   new   squad,   chosen   for   her   aptitude,   her   perceptions.   So   engrossed   in   contemplation,   she   doesn't   notice   the   gentle   approach   behind   her.   She   lifts   her   gaze   a   few   seconds   later   with   a   flicker   of   apology.   “Oh,   I   didn’t   notice   you   there.   I   thought   I   was   the   only   one   drawn   to   the   sea   in   winter.”