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pi-crust · 1 month ago

Text

This.

debt: r. suna

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chapter one

now playing: her and cigarettes by cheap girls

Okay.

There’s about ¥100,000 in her bank account, give or take a couple of hundred. Rent is ¥83,000 and due in three days, which knocks out a pretty big chunk. Electric, gas, and water she paid for earlier this month, so that’s good. The fridge is running pretty bare, almost nothing but impulse orders of takeout leftovers that’ll go bad in just a couple of days, if they’re lucky. Groceries run at about ¥20,000 per trip, but she can pinch there, and it can just be another month where everyone’s dissatisfied with their meals. But then there are those fucking phone bills.

She sits at the kitchen table, a cigarette in one hand and her face in the other. No phones this month, she figures. What the fuck else is she supposed to do.

The paper bills and ripped up envelopes stare back at her, mocking her. Her younger siblings are rushing around her, scrambling to get ready for school and making as much noise as they fucking can while they do it. It’s always fucking something.

“I have another couple of tutoring sessions,” Haru (younger brother #2, age 17, student, smug little shit) says, standing at the open fridge, and then closing it again when he realizes that there’s nothing of substance in there. “That should help.”

“Yeah, what would fucking help is if Ryu paid me that money he owes me,” she says, putting out her cigarette on the jar lid she uses as an ashtray. “The fucker’s been camped out at his girlfriend’s house so he thinks he can just-oh fuck!”

Aya (younger sister #2, age 7, student, brat) runs into the corner of the kitchen, table, shaking the enter thing, and knocking a cup of black coffee into the pile of unpaid bills. She stands, scrambling to grab at some thin paper towels to clean it up with. “What the fuck Aya?”

The girl’s teary-eyed, like she normally is, but it’s too early in the morning to deal with it. “I can’t find my backpack!” she cries out, as if this is some sort of explanation.

She sighs, too tired for it all and scheduled to be at work in just an hour and twenty minutes. “Fucking. Eri!” she calls out into the void of their three-bedroom apartment.

From the depths, Eri (younger sister #1, age 13, student, literal nightmare), calls back out. “Fucking what?”

“Help your sister find her backpack for school!” she yells, hands still occupied with the mess of bills and hot coffee. She thinks that someone should be helping her, but is not surprised that no one is. That’s usually how it goes.

“I’m busy!” Eri screams back, already annoyed.

She’s wasted half a roll of paper towels by now, she balls it up, and moves to toss it in the trash, half of her hoping she didn’t bundle up any of the bills along with it, the other half of her hoping she did. She passes Haru on her way to the trash. “Haru, help your sister.”

“I can’t,” he says. “I gotta go. I wrote an essay for this rich kid. He’s paying me ¥7,000 for it. I’m meeting him now.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Since when are people paying you to write their essays?”

Haru smirks. “Since you stopped being able to pay the bills.”

Her eyes roll, and she raises a hand to gently knock the back of his head. “Alright, fuck off, go get paid,” she says, and with her permission, he’s ducking out the back door before she can blink.

Aya cries out here name, and she turns to face her again. Her face is red, and tear stained. “I don’t wanna get in trouble!”

If she’s really, really honest with herself, and maybe this makes her a bit of a shit sister, she really doesn’t give a fuck if Aya gets in trouble with her teacher or not. Everyone in this house is constantly in trouble, for something, and she just doesn’t have it in her to give a shit if one sibling is getting a scolding.

But it’s sort of her job to take care of it.

She sighs. “Alright, c’mon, let’s find your backpack.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

She stands in the damp air, hair tied up loosely on the top of her head, and phone pressed to her ear. The fry oil from the restaurant she’s serving at combined with the wet stench of the dumpster is nauseating. The phone rings.

“It’s Ryuji. I don’t wanna fucking talk to you. Leave a message.”

Her foot taps against the pavement. The phone beeps. “Hey, you stupid fuck. If you’re gonna up and leave and screw over the rest of us, make sure you pay me back the money you owe me before. Call me back, or I’m sending Suna over there to break your jaw.”

She hangs up and tightens her ponytail before she goes back inside. Her fifteen minutes are up

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Suna reaches over and takes the cigarette from between her lips. She turns her head and glares at him. “You’re such a fucking dick.”

They’re on the rooftop of this abandoned soba restaurant. When they were kids, it was the best place in a four-town radius to get soba, but then the owner went and died from a heart attack about eight years back, and it’s been sitting abandoned ever since.

They used to come here when they were younger, too. Thirteen and discovering cigarettes and how fucking amazing it was to get away from your parents for the first time. They would smoke and eat shrimp chips and run from the cops whenever the owner got fed up with the smell of nicotine wafting down into his restaurant and called them.

It’s gotten a little more peaceful up there for them, since he died.

Suna leans against the edge of the roof, looking down at the ground beneath them, and he grins. “You love me.”

She reaches into the pocket of her sweatshirt for a second one, slightly cursing him under her breath. “Whatever,” she grumbles, flicking the end of her lighter. Smoke enters her lungs again, and she exhales. “By the way, don’t freak out if you can’t reach me this month, like you did last time.”

Suna raises an eyebrow at her. “What, can’t pay your phone bill again?”

She leans her back against the edge of the roof and sinks into it. “Yep.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “gotta get groceries again. More important than answering your texts at three in the goddamn morning, unfortunately.”

Suna shakes his head. “Nah, fuck that. I’m paying your phone bill.”

She shoots him a glare. “Would you piss off? You’re not paying for shit.”

Suna always does this. Slips her money when he thinks she’s not looking. Swiping bills off her counter and calling to pay them once he’s in the safety of his own apartment. She hates it, and she hates that it helps. It wounds her pride, and it makes Suna indispensable to her. It sucks.

And he knows she hates it, too. Which makes it all the more insufferable when he grins, and says, “Yeah, I am.”

“No, Rin, you’re not,” she insists, even though she knows he’s going to do it.

He blows smoke in her face. “What, are you gonna stop me? I’ll kick your ass.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. You’ve gotta stop letting me scam you out of money.”

The night’s cool and fresh. The sky is this dark shade of blue that reminds her of the bruises that seem to be a permanent feature of Suna’s skin. “You’re not scamming me out of anything. I’m providing for you,” he tells her. “Just another reason we should get married.”

She’s gonna throttle him. “Oh, fuck off.”

“I’m serious,” Suna persists. She knows he’s serious. He always serious, every single fucking time he brings it up. “You know I’ll take care of you.”

“What about the kids?”

The kids. She says it like they’re hers. Like she had any choice in them ending up on her lap.

Suna shrugs. “I’ll take care of them too.”

“And what happens when someone breaks your face in and kills you in one of your little street fights?”

“Life insurance,” is Suna’s simple answer.

She stares at him, incredulous for a second. “I’m not marrying you,” she says again, because she knows he’s not going to listen to it.

Maybe she would, if things were different. But things are exactly as they are, and all she can do is live with it.

Suna looks back out over the roof. “You will, one day.”

She punches him in the arm, and he yelps. “Would you shut up with this? You’re too broke for me, anyways.”

“Is that all it is?” Suna asks, and his tone is suddenly different. He doesn’t look back at her. “Is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

She thinks about it, for a second. “I dunno,” she replies. “Maybe I’d find other reasons to say no if I had enough money to think about anything else.”

When Suna looks back at her, he’s grinning. “Well, fine. Let’s get you some cash then.”

thank you shameless season one for the inspiration

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pi-crust · 1 month ago

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YESSSSS THIS CONCEPT IS SO COOL, I AM HOOKED

One Piece Asylum AU idea

things are subject to change but here is a little short

~~~~

Characters include: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kidd, and Killer

GN!Reader for the moment

Warnings: drug use, mentioned death, murder/manslaughter, hallucinations, mental illness's, abuse, medical malpractice, slight gore, depression, made at work, kinda spoilers for Law's and Sanji's backgrounds, i tried my best to incorporate some things from each backstory into this so-,I AM NOT A MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONAL SO I DO NOT KNOW IF THESE COULD BE ACCURATE

~~~~

“Patient's name is Monkey D. Luffy. He was brought here by his grandfather after he failed to thrive following the death of his older brother.” Handing you the clipboard, the head psychiatrist looks at you before continuing. “He’s convinced himself he’s a pirate and trying to become ‘King of the Pirates’ with his ‘nakama.’ We believe it’s a coping mechanism and trauma response to witnessing his brother's murder.”

Looking through the pages, you read the test and charts. Upon seeing a particular line, you raise a brow. “Believes he’s made of rubber?”

“Ah, yes. It’s part of the world he’s built in his head. He thinks that things will bounce off him and that he can’t get hurt if he falls from heights. It’s caused multiple bruises and broken bones. One includes the broken femur he just recovered from. He’s a high fall risk due to these delusions.”

“That’s so sad. Creating a whole world just to escape the grief. I can’t imagine the pain of watching a loved one die in such a horrific manner.”

“Surprisingly, this pirate world is common in this hospital. Don’t know if it’s Luffy’s influence or if it’s a common escape method that hasn’t been fully researched yet. But it is a very regular delusion in here.”

“There’s more…pirates?”

“Yes. Three crews, to be exact. At least for now. Luffy’s charmed his way into a few other patients' minds and convinced them to ‘join his crew.’”

“Really? Who are they?”

“There's a lot. Are you sure you want to hear them? It can get pretty disturbing and slightly gut-wrenching. New World Asylum isn’t known for the mild cases.”

A sense of unease fills the pit of your stomach, but the curiosity is too much to endure. “I’m sure.” Nodding, the head psychiatrist leads you to a big hallway. The doors are thick metal with name plates on each surface. As you approached the dark, eerie hallway, it felt like a horror movie.

The head psychiatrist hands you a pen and a small notepad. “Take notes, rookie. If you want to survive, I suggest writing down as many notes as possible.”

“After Luffy, we have Rorona Zoro. Brought here by police after a welfare check discovered he was living with the decaying body of his lover after he accidentally killed them.”

“What? Why is he here instead of prison?” You question, looking at the psychiatrist with furrowed brows.

“It was an accident. He used to collect swords and practice swordsmanship, which had him collecting a total of 3 swords. One of them accidentally killed his lover when they sneaked up behind him when he was drunk, spooking him. He killed them instantly, thankfully, slicing them in half. In his despair, he kept the body with him for two weeks. His boss was the one to call the cops to check up on them since he hadn’t left the apartment or contacted anyone in the said two weeks.”

“That's so sad, but…that still doesn’t explain why he isn’t in prison?”

“After the death, he continued to speak to them like they were alive, and when the cops tried to separate him from the body, he flipped his shit. It turned into a standoff that lasted about four hours before they finally managed to take him down. Often gets aggressive and has violent outbursts when he has moments of ‘clarity’ and ‘can’t find them.’”

“Oh…”

“He’s part of Luffy’s ‘Straw Hat Pirates.’ From our observed behaviors, he seems to be the second in command. He now claims to be striving to be the best swordsman for his deceased lover.” Writing down the minor notes that you could, you continue to follow.

“Next up, Vinsmoke Sanji. After suffering years of abuse that he refuses to speak about, he attacked them ruthlessly. The only one surviving of the massacre was his older sister, who he deems ‘free of retribution.’ They counted him unfit to stand trial and sent him here. According to Luffy, he’s the cook for his crew. As far as we know, he’s never stepped foot in the facilities kitchen.”

Remaining speechless, you follow and try to calm down how your mind seems to run at a million miles per minute. How many people did this place have that believed they were pirates? Was this all Luffy’s doing? Influencing people into believing his world?

“Trafalgar Water D. Law. A raging wildfire took out his entire town overnight when he slept as a child. He has it in his mind that the government did it to hide the fact they were experimenting on them. A man adopted him only to witness his murder after his adoptive father got into an argument with a family member.” Your heart burned as you listen to the recounting of his story. Losing your whole world overnight twice sounded like hell.

“The next thirteen years seemed to go by quickly and relatively calmly. He’d gotten his medical degree to be a surgeon. He was known far and wide as a great doctor. It wasn’t until people began to find out that he'd been secretly experimenting on people. Trying to find a cure for an unknown disease that he claims killed his family.”

“The one that he blamed on the government?” You raised your brow, trying to comprehend what could possibly be going on in the man’s mind.

“Yes. It also came to light that his partner, who was constantly sick, was being poisoned by him. He always fed them a small amount of some drug, so they were too weak to do anything other than depend on him. Just so they couldn’t leave him. And just like almost everyone else, they concluded that he's not in the right mind to stand trial and sent him here.”

Walking past Law’s door, a sense of despair hits you, making goosebumps rise on your skin. You could hear him talking to himself, but what he’s saying was unintelligible. “He talks to his deceased sister a lot. Blames himself for not waking up his family in time to save them from the fire or warn them about the ‘sickness’ they had. When talking to him, don't be spooked if he starts asking you about your upcoming ‘surgery.’ He’s restrained in a jacket like Zoro."

"He’s another victim of Luffy’s influence, as he also now believes he’s part of a pirate group. But this one, he’s the captain of. He calls them the Heart Pirates. Another thing he discusses frequently is Corazon. We have yet to figure out who or what that is.”

“I’ll…keep that in mind.” The pen scribbled relentlessly on the paper, seeming never to stop as words repeatedly filled the small, lined paper.

“Good. Next up is Eustass Kidd.” Moving forward, next to the head psychiatrist, you are shown a door made of even thicker metal than the others along the hallway. There were even twice the number of locks on the door compared to the ones you've seen.

“Why are there so many locks?”

“He’s the most aggressive and hostile. It’s gotten to the point of him being unable to leave his cell and being chained to the back wall-”

“Let me out of here, you stupid-” A scream of pain came from behind the heavy metal door, causing you to rush up and slide open the slot in the door to check up on the man behind it.

“Sir?! Are you okay?!” As you opened the small opening, you were met with orange orbs staring right at you. Firey red hair could be seen from what little light was in the room. For a moment, the air seemed cold, quiet, and uncomfortable.

CLANK

Not a second passed before the man in chains jumped to his feet and rushed at you; the chains holding him back and the door separating you two did little to quell the scream that left your throat as you fell back on your butt.

“He never learns.” The head psychiatrist sighs before you see her push a button on a small remote in her hand, leading to another scream of agony in the room.

“W-What are you?” Wide-eyed, you look at her.

“Shock therapy. It’s part of his treatments.”

“But hasn’t that been proven to be ineffective?” A stone stare was all you got, and it made you want to shrink and crawl into a hole to hide. Why would she use a technique that has proven ineffective? As punishment? There had to be some sort of explanation. There is no way they would use such primitive methods in this modern day. Unnerved, you slowly stand up, your eyes never leaving her hand.

“Moving on.” Quickly rushing forward, she moves to the final door. Not sparing you or the chained man a second glance.

Looking at the tiny slit in the door, you exhale a silent, “I’m sorry…” Swallowing down your saliva, you move to her side once more. What once was a calm introduction now felt wrong. The coldness of her actions shows a dark side that makes you want to run far, far away. What could he have done to get here and be treated like some sort of animal?

“What did he do that caused such treatment?”

“He was in a rock band, but there was an accident at a bar where he must have taken some substances that caused a manic episode. Whether it was knowingly or unknowingly is not charted. However, the episode caused some harsh hallucinations, which resulted in him running into oncoming traffic and getting hit by a car. The aftermath was multiple surgeries and the amputation of his left arm. Once he was awake and saw the damage, he freaked.”

“Freaked? Did they not explain to him what happened?”

“They tried, but from forced brain scans and multiple behavior therapists later, it was revealed that the accident had knocked some screws loose. Putting him in an eternal warped state of mind. A constant state of psychosis in a better term. No amount of medication has helped him. He’s a lost cause. No doubt he’ll be here for the rest of his life.” Frowning, you follow her to the next and last room in the hallway.

“Last but not least, Killer.”

“Killer?” You look at her in confusion. What kind of name is that? Is she pranking you?

“Yes. He was and still is Eustass Kidd’s best friend and the only person who can calm him down when he’s on a violent rampage after somehow escaping his room.”

“How did he get here then? Was he also in the accident?”

“No. He came a month after Eustass was sent to us. After Eustass’s spiral, he spiraled into his own depression after losing his best friend, and he turned to some drugs to soothe the pain. And just like his friend, he caused irreversible damage to himself after going on a drug stupor after his lover broke it off with him cause he was ‘too depressing to be around.’”

“What did he do?...”

Sparing you only a second glance, the head psychiatrist looked to be holding back a chuckle. “He used a sewing needle to stitch his mouth into a smile before going back to his ex’s house and trying to beg for them to take him back, saying he ‘fixed himself. ‘The cops took one look at him and sent him here.” An icky feeling rose in your gut at her reaction. How could she find something so horrific to be funny?

“That's horrible…it’s so disturbing how fragile the human mind is.”

“It is. Oh, something I forgot to mention is that Luffy’s influence hit them, too. Eustass took his words as a challenge and made his own pirate group, including Killer, called the ‘Kidd Pirates.’”

“How original?”

Stopping suddenly, the lady turns to you. “Now that you know them. It’s time for you to get ready.”

“Ready? Ready for what?”

“Ready to meet your new patients, Dr. (Y/N). I’m sure you’ll love it here at New World Asylum.”

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