The Trunk Is Pissing Me Off

Mr. Crawling !! ♡

𝔸𝕟 𝔼𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 (bro idk what to call it)

Another day, another torturous round of school.

Saiki Kusuo woke up as usual, his strawberry-colored hair already perfectly styled, without needing to do anything thanks to his psychic abilities. Not that he wanted to impress anyone – it was far from it. But since his telekinesis and all the other powers he had made it impossible to even think about doing something as mundane and simple as brushing his hair, he just lets his abilities handle it.

About school? It's the same as always for him. The pink haired psychic sits in his usual spot, trying to keep his psychic shields up to avoid hearing the inner thoughts of his classmates. Kineshi and Shun kept talking about their "awesome" plans for the weekend. Teruhashi keeps on being annoying and wanting to seek attention from him. Seriously, do they ever stop? All he ever wanted was to be average, not noticed by anyone. Was that too much to ask for?

Anyway, nothing noteworthy happened during the day. Oh, except for the usual noise from Riki, who tried to make him laugh by doing something ridiculous with his hair. Of course, he didn't laugh. He should know better by now. But he couldn't blame him. In his world, that's probably the best way to get attention.

By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of another pointless day, Kusuo was already preparing for his escape. He could barely stand to stay any longer in that horrendous school. Not that he has a choice, though. Being stuck in this world with a bunch of clueless people who have no idea about the disaster that is his existence? That's his life.

When he got home after a little walk in peace (somehow managing to get away from Nendo), he immediately headed to his room. Inside there it was quiet and peaceful. His only sanctuary. The one place where he could try to keep things from falling apart.

But then, something very annoying happened.

Kusuo was about to settle into his chair and relax for the evening when he noticed something unusual. One of the pink clips on his head – the ones that help stabilize his powers – was a little off. [Huh? The hell?] He didn't think too much of it at first, but as he concentrated and went up to reach it, he realized that it was, in fact, deflating.

Great. Just great.

He sighed deeply. Again? These things were important – more so than most people realize. If he doesn't have his pink clips fully inflated or in a good condition, he'll risk losing control of his powers. Which means his sneezes could level an entire block, he might break the floor with just applying a little bit more pressure by stepping on it, and worst of all, his entire life could slowly spiral into chaos. He quickly rushed to his dresser to grab the emergency backup box that Kusuke left behind, the one he kept hidden in case of situations like this. But when he turned back around, he was already beginning to feel a shift in the air. His heart suddenly dropped. "...Hey, Kusuo? I need your help–"

[ Dad! Could you not right now?! ] Kusuo huffed as he shouted telepathically to him, hoping he could just ask him to not be an idiot for once and not make things worse for him.

But of course, his dad didn't hear him. He never did, and that's what led to the problem.

He has teleportation as one of his abilities, and while he normally has it under control, this time, his powers got all out of whack. It wasn't just a simple teleportation – He wasn't even trying to teleport himself! He then felt his nose feel ticklish. He let out a small sneeze.

A simple, singular sneeze.

That's all it took.

And as soon as he did, his father – who had been standing just a little too close – disappeared. Kusuo froze in horror, staring at the spot where he had been.

What did I just do?  Kusuo is sure he felt him pop out of existence for just a second... And then... He was gone.

[ DAD?! ] He was panicking. But of course, he wasn't there to hear him.

That's when it hit him. In his panic, his powers hadn't just shifted his position a few feet like they usually do when he teleports. Oh, no. His powers were too unstable. He had teleported  his dad into another location. He tried to sense him by emitting signals, but he couldn't. His father wasn't found anywhere in the world no matter how he tried. Did he just teleport him into somewhere other than this world?

Kusuo's knees felt weak as he slumped to the floor, his head spinning. This was bad. Really, really bad. He was responsible for making sure everything in the universe stayed intact. And now, he probably sent his father to a completely different parallel universe. He's not even sure how to get him back.

His heart was racing. He's the one who handles all of the chaos, yet somehow, he's the one causing it. The pink haired man started thinking about how he could possibly fix this, but then the panic set in. What if there's no way to get him back? What if he's lost forever in some random world? He tried to calm himself down, but the truth was, he really couldn't. It was getting harder and harder to control his powers. He could feel his mind getting weaker, like a rubber band that was stretched too far. There was only one thing he could do now.

He needed to find a way to reinflate those damaged limiters and get control back. Fast. How did this escalate to this point?

Turned out better than I expected?? Woah

a little late but happy bday nikolai !!

<3

tried to draw anya again

ꪖ ꪗꫀꪖ᥅ ꫀ᥅ꪖᦓꫀᦔ (A Year Erased)

𝓣he sharp shrill of thunder outside boomed, jolting me awake. Everything felt so numb. Where am I?

My hand fumbles a bit before reaching across the small nightstand, knocking over a glass of water before finding the source of the noise. Silence returned, but my heart hammered against my ribs. Something felt… Wrong. I slowly sat up, observing my surroundings. This bedroom looked the same as before -- gray walls, a cluttered desk with papers, a night lamp, and a worn leather jacket hung over the chair.

But there was a weight in the air, a heaviness I couldn’t place.

It wasn’t until I swung my legs over the side of the bed that I noticed it.

A note.

A small piece of paper rested on the nightstand, written in hurried, slanted handwriting:

"Don't trust anyone -- not even yourself."

The words sent a quiet chill in my spine. What did those even mean? Was this a prank? The closer I look at it, the more I realize I don't recognize this handwriting.

I grabbed the note and turned it over, hoping for some clue, but the back was blank. Swallowing hard, I tried to piece together the events of the night before.

Nothing was there.

No fragments of a party, no blurry memories of too many drinks, not even a sense of how I got home. I checked my phone for answers, scrolling through my messages and call logs, but there was nothing recent -- just a blank stretch of time that made my stomach twist.

Then I saw the date.

[ March 15th, 2019. ]

My phone fell and clattered with the floor on impact. The last date I remembered was March 15th -- of last year.

I let myself scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over the pile of clothes on the floor, and ran to the mirror. My reflection stared back, familiar yet different. My hair was longer than I remembered, my face thinner. A faint scar curved along my jawline, one I didn't recognize.

Panic surged in my chest and took over my mind. I then tore through my closet, rifling through clothes that weren't mine -- jackets I'd never bought, shoes I didn't recognize. Even the books on my shelf were unfamiliar, their spines worn as if I'd read them a hundred times.

What the hell had happened to me?

The sound of a door creaking open made me freeze. I turned slowly, the note already crumpled in my fist.

"H-Hello?" I called, my voice shaking.

No answer.

I stepped into the hallway, my bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. The sterile apartment was eerily quiet, every creak and groan of the old building increased in the silence.

When I reached the kitchen, I stopped.

There, on the counter, was another note.

"It's not safe here. They're watching."

I feel a lump form in my throat as I stared at the message, my composure being already shaken. My hands trembled as I picked it up, my hands felt clammy.

"Who's watching?" I whispered.

dokja ♡