memcaked

[memcaked]

im really curious and i dont know if this has been done before but if you’re a writer reblog this with what font you use when you’re writing

#lato or times new roman #not writing

[memcaked]

send him home in a limejuice tub!

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya & Sakuraba Neku, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya & Hanekoma Sanae, Sakuraba Neku & Honjo Sota

Characters: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku, Hanekoma Sanae, Honjo Sota

Additional tags: Alternate viewpoint, Mostly canon dialogue, Week 2 Day 6, Introspective, Character study, Gift fic, TWEWY Secret Valentine, Not beta read

Summary: Joshua looks down at his hands for the first time. Almighty, almost a month and he forgot what it was like to be physical. Instincts, skin, nails - unchipped, rounded, inch-long keratin buried into the heels of his palms, threatening to break his skin.

Beginning notes: This was made for ShibuyaPharmacy as part of the TWEWY Secret Valentine event. She asked for art or writing with Joshua, Minamimoto, or Fret, so obviously it meant I had to enact one of my TWEWY ideas rolling around in my brain for this. Inspired by a tumblr post which I can sadly not find written by @/shadnoise analysing Joshua's body language in this scene, and pushed out today for my headcanon birthday for Joshua. Happy birthday to this anime game guy who hasn't left my brain for years I think its because we share a star sign

Body:

No matter how Joshua’s beams of light should be vaporising the Taboo noise the sound of them being Erased is always the same: screeching, scraping, like the coalescing of Shibuya soul and the something Minamimoto put into the refinery sigil roiling in its soul code. It's the same discordant chords striking their way across Shibuya this week. They’re awful, through and through - Joshua hacks on their smoke-and-oil stench, whether it's a horn or a kick or quills they leave his skin stinging and red. Taboo noise were nothing, a mystery untold until this week and it doesn’t do anything to convince him that this place can be saved when it's able to foster the frenzied supernoise brainchild of some young Officer with a usurper fantasy. Sanae would tell him J, you always think everyone’s out to get you, and he didn’t believe Joshua when he cited his evidence. As he feels himself falling out of the Noise plane he argues with Strawnae that his attempted murderer has learnt how to breed the dark arts and if he’ll even let him go he’s meant to be doing it thinking he shouldn’t be so negative and everyone he meets is an angel.

They drop back into the UG, or only Neku as he floats in the air. Down on the ground he’s planted to his feet, looking expectantly on wounded, Erased-to-be Sota. He should’ve put the unpartnered timers on their hands before he gave up his powers and his clairvoyance, has to count it by himself with one mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi, four, without any ticking clock that he can see or divine when it’ll happen. “You OK?”

“Yeah... you saved my ass,” Sota cracks a half-smile, the muscles on the left side of his face going limp. His chuckle is half-hearted, a little pained. He knows his erasure is inevitable to be genuine about it, Joshua thinks along with eleven mississippi. “Heh, for now, anyway. I lost Nao... I don't have much longer.” He groans, body shaking as his voice cracks and a second of static courses through him.

Neku droops, his hair falling under his eyes, head buried in collar, spine slumped. “If... if we'd gotten here sooner--” Twenty two mississippi, twenty three mississippi.

“Ain't your fault, dawg. I wasn't strong enough. End of story,” He wheezes, gags a little trying to get the air back. The static flashes repeat, repeat, the pauses closing in. “Neku and Joshua, right?” Joshua lifts his head up, makes eye contact with Sota.

“Yeah.”

“You two survive,” The right side of his face falls. thirty nine mississippi, forty mississippi, “Get your old partner back,” He painfully clings to the last happy face he has, static almost falling out of his screwed-up eyes. “I hope all three of ya get back safe.”

He’s Erased with a buzzed heave, gone in a flash and a crackle. Sota Honjo, small-time criminal, Nao’s partner(-in-crime), joins her in Shibuya’s soul. Sixty mississippi. Neku runs into his spot, the crest of a building’s tall shadow, squinting towards the silver-lined rooftops. He shakes his fist, voice crashing up an octave, “Fucking reapers!”

“Angry, I see,” Joshua lowers himself down, huffing when he scuffs his sneakers on the pavement. When Neku whips his mink-lithe body around Joshua almost hears cracking bones.

“Hell yes, I’m angry!” The vessels in his eyes look swollen red, like if he has to feel for any moment longer they’ll burst into blood and tears.

“So what?” Joshua isn’t particularly interested in making eye contact with Neku - he runs the stopwatch in his head again. “At least you’re still in the game.”

Neku lunges two steps forward, the same shaking fist maybe two inches from Joshua’s nose. “Yeah, and what about those who didn’t? Screw the game!” He stomps his feet on the pavement and makes Joshua forget what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. “They’re people, not toys!”

Neku Sakuraba himself, grandstanding about people? People? The ones he was bemoaning a few days ago, the ones he hated so much Joshua chose him. He was such a rugged survivalist - knew how little time Beat and Rhyme had and only caved when they thought it was a good idea - and suddenly when he echoes Neku, Joshua walking away from this with a bruised bloody nose seems to rest in the balance of his outburst. The adrenaline of his thoughts distill into a slow cool-tongued mumble. “Why the sudden interest? I didn’t think you cared about other people.”

“No…” The taut muscles in Neku’s knuckle strain, his voice run ragged by his screaming? His crying? His energy?

The trail-off’s a chance for Joshua to load bullets into his barrel. “No what?”

Neku clears his throat and backs away, opens the sore fist into a palm. “Sure, other Players are strangers. Not just Players. Everyone,” Joshua looks down at his hands for the first time. “I don't know who they are, where they're from, what they care about,” Almighty, almost a month and he forgot what it was like to be physical. “But... since I came to the UG, I... I've talked with them a little.” instincts, skin, nails - “Got to know them a little. Felt them a little…” - unchipped, rounded, inch-long keratin, “Felt my world grow. Just a tiny, tiny bit,” buried into the heels of his palms, “It's different now. They're not just some strangers. I can't shut them out like that.” threatening to break his skin.

“My my,” He’ll understand, Joshua keeps assuring himself. Neku wouldn’t exactly be joyful but he’ll agree Shibuya needs to be shut down, die off with him. He’s - and a lump forms in Joshua’s throat - sounding like now, he won’t back down. “This isn’t like you at all.” He doesn’t even want to make eye contact. How does he get through to Neku? “Well, don’t get your hopes up. You’ll never really understand the people around you.”

“Enjoy the moment.” It’s what imprinting does to people but he only realises how wrapped Neku was around Sanae’s middle finger to Joshua’s crisis of function. Neku’s eyes shine, he mourns the Erased, he thought they’d walk together hand in hand but Joshua feels more and more like he’s reaching an arm out for someone crossing a threshold he can’t.

“Hmm?” Joshua imagines Sanae sitting on Neku’s shoulder, adjusting his halo and sitting in the white flowy robes he hates. Frustration shoots up his fingers and digs harder into his hands.

“Enjoying your world means making it bigger,” Joshua remembers how Neku told him of a girl who’s grip floated up and away from him. “I finally get that.” Joshua remembers that erased couple, arms linked in life, death, erasure, the erased couple who would hold Neku, Joshua, Shiki, everyone in their hands if they didn’t only have two. “The world as one person sees it is tiny.” Joshua remembers Neku, every day in his solitude admiring the mural, rubbing and caressing the wall of paint. “You've gotta... gotta reach out to other people.” Joshua glances back at Neku’s shoulder. He can’t see anything. His hands unfurl, hang free and limp at his side.

“...... Hee hee.” He doesn’t feel anything in his throat. “Maybe so. Only by allowing strangers in can we find new ways to be ourselves.” He wrings his body, one he needs to get used to. “It's possible. This mission looks like it’s up to us.”

Neku silently starts moving towards Q-Heads before stopping, staring over his shoulder while his partner stares at splayed hands. “Joshua?”

"Hold on,” he picks at his fingers, “I’ve broken a nail.”

Ending notes: Not exactly sastified with this but its been a busy lead-up to Valentine's offline and online, I'm glad this is done, and I'm happy if at least one person enjoys what I've wrote. Happy valentine's day, Jordan!

#twewy #the world ends with you #neku sakuraba #joshua kiryu #yoshiya kiryu #sanae hanekoma #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Fall

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Sakuraba Neku & Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku & Misaki Shiki & Bito “Beat” Daisukenojo & Bito “Rhyme” Raimu

Characters: Sakuraba Neku, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Misaki Shiki, Bito “Beat” Daisukenojo, Bito “Rhyme” Raimu

Additional tags: Seasons, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Not beta read

Summary: The leaves crunch under Neku’s feet as he treads across the street until he passes by a municipal tree set in the tiny greenspace enclosure. “God,” he examines a bruised, brittle leaf barely hanging low enough for him to touch, “I fucking hate the fall.”

Beginning notes: im exhausted by all the sadness and wanted to take this literally so here's just. fall. kind of funny im writing this from the southern hemisphere but its fall. and joshua's here too and has friends rather than my usual idea for postgame where he's totally secluded from everyone else and it leaves neku so so directionless because of it

also remember seeing a headcanon about neku liking cold weather and while i normally dont knock on hcs, ive got my share of weird ones... the boy wearing a tank top and shorts? who is constantly associated with fire?? likes cold weather??? i have to laugh

Body: The leaves crunch under Neku’s feet as he treads across the street until he passes by a municipal tree set in the tiny greenspace enclosure. “God,” he examines a bruised, brittle leaf barely hanging low enough for him to touch, “I fucking hate the fall.”

Joshua lifts a barely-splayed hand to his chin, mouth o-shaped in that pseudo-intellectual pose he strikes. “Strange that you wouldn’t open your world to autumn, hm? A break from the heatwaves can do us good as a whole, dear.”

Neku pushes Joshua away, laughing him off. “Yeah, you say that ‘cos you’re so cold. Hey Neku,” he trills, stretching out the syllables slow, “feel how cold my hands are! Why, you’re dead so you never got a body temperature above thirty degrees again?”

“Could ask the same to you,” Joshua sticks his tongue out, notching his eyebrow. “Remember when I took your entry fee for the duel, and you didn’t know what it was? When’s the last time you’ve been able to touch someone like I did?”

Neku keeps walking ahead. “It’s just slapping your hands on their cheeks, don’t know why you’re wording it like a dating thing…”

“That’s your own prerogative,” Joshua retorts, clicking his tongue. “I could’ve made sure you would never reach again 37 degrees Celsius, 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit, three hundred and ten point ten five Kelvin…”

“I literally got a fever in July. 38.5,” Neku points out. “Don’t be such a fucking smartass when you literally didn’t.”

“Fucking smartass,” Joshua returns the mimicking favour, deepening his voice and speeding up his speech. “You really need to stop swearing so much. I know you’re fifteen, but you’re not going to get anywhere--”

“Eyes on the road. We’re here.” Neku runs ahead, in that strange speed he’s built up ever since the Game. He touches off at the bronze touch of Hachiko, cheering and greeting his friends mobbed around it, waving and high fiving everyone.

Joshua crawls forward, with the same slowness he takes everything else at. “Friends, nobles, countrymen, lend me your ears!” he declares, a pace away from the group.

“Yo, Socrates, you could jus’ ask us to listen….”

“Joshua, please come closer,” Shiki says, “we can’t really hear you over the people, haha.”

“I think it's the pomp thing,” Rhyme sighs.

“Me and Neku have been partaking in this enlightening conversation about the seasons, and I must know what the public thinks of it. He hates autumn, and presumably all the seasons where you can’t speedrun melanoma,”

“Fuck off,” Neku interrupts. “Did you really just use those words? Speedrun melanoma?”

“Summer isn’t just sunburns, man!” Beat says. “It’s one of the only breaks from school too. Those one week offs fly by.”

“Spring,” Shiki stresses, “Spring! It’s the best for fashion. Me and Eri can always get to work when we see the flowers.”

“Says the spring baby,” Joshua retorts.

“Sure, but are you following dresses or Dragon Couture?”

“You don't give your friends enough credit,” Joshua turns to Neku, his voice pitched down so only he can hear, “they barely know me and yet they hit all my weak points,” He yells to Shiki, “I rest my case!” and she smiles and waves.

“I like autumn too, Joshua,” Rhyme adds cheerfully. "The leaves are very pretty."

“We have a tie? What are we going to do?” Shiki asks.

Joshua raises his finger in his eureka moment. “Well, proxies, Nekus, Sakurabas, lend me your ears. I’ll keep the rules extremely basic. We count down from ten, and on zero, we,”

“Fuck off,” he shoves Joshua’s face away and starts yelling at everyone, “Hey we just decided that summer was the best season, okay? Majority rules.”

Rhyme stares for a solid second. “But didn’t we just say we,”

“Phones sounds ‘ight to me though," Beat says. “Might’ve been a miscount.”

End notes: End notes were originally empty on the date of its original upload on November 19th, 2020. The entirety of these end notes were an addendum written December 8th, 2020.

reviews are in from my friend will makosinnergy, who i am publishing and bullying with his permission:

[Image description: Twitter Direct Messages between Eight noisereductions, the author, and Will makosinnergy, dated the night of November 24th, 2020 and the morning of November 25th, 2020. Will and Eight are both Australian. The messages read as followed:

Will: Eight I’m reading TWEWY fics and that includes your twewytober stuff and i found the fall one right

Will: and I didn’t realise it was yours and was going to DM you saying that Americans were a mistake.

Eight: LMAO

Eight: sorry mate

Eight: Doesn’t it say specifically in the author’s notes I’m writing it in spring or something

Eight: Will, you’re miscountrying me, you’re giving me dysphoria on if I’m not saying mate enough 💔

Will: IM SORRYYYYY

end image description.]

#twewy #the world ends with you #neku sakuraba #joshua kiryu #yoshiya kiryu #shiki misaki #beat bito #rhyme bito #19/10/2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Noise

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Characters: Sakuraba Neku, also his dead bestie

Additional tags: Grief, Angst, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Not beta read

Summary: Neku began wearing his headphones because of their acoustics. The way he can shut himself out from this meaningless world with them came later.

Beginning notes: writing sad shit about this guy on days when i don't know what to write really do be my modus operandi huh. sorry neku mate

Body: Neku began wearing his headphones because of their acoustics. The way he can shut himself out from this meaningless world with them came later.

It was normal, at least at first. The speakers clamped over, not in that oppressively painful push down every other brand had, his ears when he could barely make out This is terrifying for everyone in 2.3, but Sakuraba especially needs some space to grieve. It kept the sounds in his eardrums and not blasting to everyone else when he had it up high and his parents were hearing he hasn’t been doing so well ever since the accident, but if this doesn’t get better after a few weeks consider getting a tutor. He could sync it up easy with his mp3 and enjoy the songs he’s been getting off the Internet when his classmates hushed each other with dude, his bestie got run over, of course he’s going to be antisocial.

He kept wearing them. He kept wearing them when he heard the service was last week, if you want to see the counsellor that’s okay but you’re expected to kept wearing them when he heard can you explain why Sakuraba’s been failing in everything but art? kept wearing them when he heard how hard is it to talk? All that wacko does is mope around in those headphones.

He keeps them on. He keeps them on. He keeps them on.

It’s all just white noise, and Neku wants to live in the silence.

#twewy #the world ends with you #neku sakuraba #18/10/2020 #twewytober 2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Design

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Characters: Sakuraba Neku, mentions of dead best friend, mentions of shibuya kids, mentions of joshua

Additional tags: Nightmares, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Not beta read

Summary: 

When Neku turned fourteen, his best friend took him to the CAT mural and presented him with an A3 sketchbook with CAT’s art on the covers.

When Neku was fifteen and a half, he was raised from the dead. The week after he bought two A4 sketchbooks.

Beginning notes: tie in to secret ig since the second part uses shit from there. he's so traumatised im sorry mate

Body: When Neku turned fourteen, his best friend took him to the CAT mural and presented him with an A3 sketchbook with CAT’s art on the covers.

He filled, by his own count, 7 pages in the first week glueing in all of the drawings lying around his room. They were CAT traces and his best friend’s face and all the doodles they plotted together. They’d visit each other for studying and ended up filling three new pages of their ideas, bursting at the seams and fitting together like they just found their missing pieces, giggling and congratulating themselves over how great artists they were. Neku could point at any stray pattern and explain it was for their world where scientists learnt how to add more hours to the day, this machinery for their apocalypse where a new ice age forces everyone underground.

He stopped drawing after the accident. Stops is too abrupt of a word; he’d come here expecting he’d get his spark again, see the flowers and toys and condolences by the roadside, and his hands shook and he couldn’t see his sketchbook and by the time he calmed down everything was so flat it fell apart nine lines in. His sketchbook was so big, unwieldy just to remind him the one person who made all his art was never going to come back. He tried to draw one last thing, but the proportions were such misshapen, broken mockery he forced the thing in a cardboard box and duct taped the top.

When Neku turned fifteen, he ate breakfast, heard the “happy birthday” platitudes from his parents, and left for the CAT mural after. He stood there until dark, haunting, like he could’ve been the one that died plagued with regrets.

-

When Neku was fifteen and a half, he was raised from the dead. The week after he bought two A4 sketchbooks.

He can’t really explain it to himself: maybe he wanted to burn all the money he racked up, maybe he wanted to share it. Maybe he felt so invigorated and inspired that he wanted not one, but two. Neku likes that last explanation. He goes with that, and starts using his first sketchbook.

A month later, Neku finds a good way to balance this.

A4 makes his first sketchbook easier to carry, and it comes with him wherever he goes: he draws skylines and clothes and studying the graffiti that captures him, draws the powerful concerts at A-East and the products at 104. He spends 4 pages noting designs and planning for when Beat asked him to spray his new skateboard (the hug he got when he presented the finished thing to him broke a few bones, Neku thinks). His new project is getting to realise how his art translates to clothes; Shiki said she wanted to do iron-on patches and embroidery wasn’t her strong suit, but some fire burning Eri’s eyes when she heard it made them change their plans entirely to a full ensemble. Sometimes he thinks about it and he’s so filled with excitement his feet don’t stop thumping five minutes later.

On bad nights he keeps the sketchbook close by in his room, close with Shiki’s wipes and linen she bought him. He tears pages up and folds them and shoves papers in and the pages are wide, fanned apart and wavy wet. Wavy wet stained pages of curly blonde he tries to remember and high-pressure blood and Leo Cantus and what he thought those homogenous hiveminds looked like fill the second sketchbook. The breath catches in his throat when the chalkboard scratches of his pencil shade the dark stains on his dharma, hands trying not to shake and leave his pencilwork scribbly and off-kilter.

He thinks it’s a good way to work it out for now.

#twewy #the world ends with you #neku sakuraba #16/10/2020 #twewytober 2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Shop

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya & Hanekoma Sanae

Characters: Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Hanekoma Sanae, mentions of shibuya kids and higher plane

Additional tags: Post-game, possible downer ending, vague talk of suicide that’s joshua kiryu, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Not beta read

Summary: Joshua opens the door to WildKat and doesn’t even bother turning the lights on when he shuts it behind him. He steps gingerly over the torn wallpaper, uprooted flooring, and broken furniture to the counter and turns a chair the right way up. He flips open his phone and punches in the keys, summoning black coffee in a perfect porcelain cup that he knows isn’t the one Sanae made for years when it touches his lips.

Beginning notes: this was repurposed from unpublished vent shit because again JoshuaSympathiser69. originally it was in the format of a letter joshua was writing neku about the current state of the UG that hanekoma forced him to for ment tell health which is very funny because like, vent shit that was probably a little bit too enabling. i couldn't keep the format so i just nixed it rip. the image of joshua sitting in the empty trashed wildkat never leaves my head

also i wrote this in comic sans lol

Body: Joshua opens the door to WildKat and doesn’t even bother turning the lights on when he shuts it behind him. He steps gingerly over the torn wallpaper, uprooted flooring, and broken furniture to the counter and turns a chair the right way up. He flips open his phone and punches in the keys, summoning black coffee in a perfect porcelain cup that he knows isn’t the one Sanae made for years when it touches his lips.

Maybe it’s a sense of twisted nostalgia. He doesn’t have the same darkvision he has tuned down to his human form, but he could feel the same debris squelch under his soles; the food wasted on the floor, all his shelves ransacked, that precarious fan with its blades bent half-hanging from its wires like a chandelier over the ruins. Minamimoto blazed through the UG, and when he burnt out everything tasted like ashes. It hangs low on his tongue, but he's not really sure if it's the coffee’s bitterness or the cleanup he has left in his wake or learning entirely why Minamimoto was like that.

It came so fast, flashes of light and explosive power that Joshua could barely register anything other than the Higher Plane was angry and he couldn’t tell if it was him or Sanae or both. There was another Angel, not that he could remember their face or name, and they were the new Producer looking after him. Joshua asked why this was so sudden and it was about Sanae Hanekoma broke Angel code and needs to Fall for his crimes - and you’re not doing anything freely for a long time either, Composer.

Whenever he wasn’t stuck Composing, having to watch whoever this Producer was do everything for him, he visited WildKat. It was in shambles, and he thought nobody had the time to clean. He visited WildKat, still in shambles. He visited WildKat, visited WildKat until the food started rotting and reeking, until the rot sank into the floor, leaving it sticky and burnt and not, not like the place he remembered visiting. Not like the warm café that smelled of java and pastry and soup and someone who understood. Sanae is different now and it may be his fault, a lot of it. He saw Sanae in Pork City in his rare off time fixing the elevators and all but launched himself at him. He was going off like a weird motormouth, asking are you good and why is an Angel doing everything now and why don’t you clean up WildKat and why do you look so solemn, Sanae?

His words sounded stilted, spaced, broken. He says things like Taboo and Fallen and fugitive and it doesn’t make sense until he says he did it all for Shibuya. “My Producer tried to kill me,” Joshua said, trying to keep his voice leveled, “and you thought this was a little trifle?” He couldn’t restrain himself for long until the chains snapped. Maybe it set the precedent for every conversation they have now; something reopens the wound in Joshua his trusted men tried to kill him for what he wanted and he starts screaming with the wrath of all of the Noise in Shibuya on his side, and Sanae escalates when his reasons (excuses) don’t penetrate the red in Joshua’s eyes. Nothing new is said, they strain harder and harder, and Joshua has to erase the Noise tailing him the hours after from how intense it is.

There’s a whole optimal world down there; everyone is so happy and it’s nowhere close to the same place that he wanted gone back before the Long Game. But the UG is trying to scramble to fill in the gaps of Officers and Conductors and it’s only so much Soul he can identify and bring back, all while the RG people sicken and take too many risks or be in the wrong place at the wrong time and they pile up, ready for another Game. His clairvoyance has been so blunted in the Higher Plane’s punishments he tried to tell how long until now and he came up with nothing. He wants to ask the new Producer how, but everything Joshua says is rude and unbecoming to an Angel. He asked Sanae in another rendezvous if all Angels were like this and before he could answer he elaborated into a long vignette on how he has so little control over things, so little feeling or expression involved, and he just wants to--

Sanae grabbed him by the wrist. “J, don’t tell me you’re thinking of dying again.” His voice was gravely stern, the way of talking he’d only heard several times for how much he’s known him. “You and I both know we won’t have the strength for it if you do.”

“You’re so worried,” Joshua put on his mock-affected voice Sanae loves to defuse the tension. “To put you at ease, I’m not texting my l’appel du vide again until next year.” Sanae didn’t like that one either. When he echoed the give up on yourself and you give up on the world, Joshua exploded over how he’s such a hypocrite and gave up on his Composer because he couldn’t respect his wishes. It’s been 11 days since he’s seen Sanae. They’re all bitter.

To lay himself bare, he doesn’t feel like anything Sanae was concerned about. There’s something in him he needs to fill, something he didn’t know was missing back when all he could feel pulsing through the veins he didn’t have was the corruption that wouldn’t empty, that needed to be destroyed. Joshua hasn’t felt emotional or human for a long time, hasn’t felt more uncertain and stuck when this should be the perfect world. He wanted the best for Neku, for Neku and Shiki and Beat and Rhyme and he knows he could never be a part of their human equation or if he deserves it. The world is perfect for them, the one Neku earned himself. This is him dealing with the consequences of everything.

Through the rustles (does WildKat have an infestation too? probably.) and chilled, stagnant air there’s something only just palpable - more like ESP, stronger than Noise or Reapers or him that he can’t sense. Sanae told him the Angels of Shibuya are everywhere, waiting for any spare moment or lead to arrest him, and asked Joshua “if you were me, where would you regularly go?” when Joshua remarked how WildKat still isn’t clean.

He drinks up the last lukewarm dregs of the coffee, hunches over and types the keys to vanish the cup; he doesn’t need to add dirty crockery to this never-cleaned mess. He thinks he needs to put 680 yen on his tab when one of them breaks the silence, like they don’t realise they’re trapped in a cycle and straining. Joshua plugs the siren song of the void. Sanae didn’t Fall for him to not to.

End notes: gonna give up my dreams and ideas forever now after writing "I'm not texting my l'appel du vide" its the perfect line

#twewy #the world ends with you #joshua kiryu #yoshiya kiryu #sanae hanekoma #15/10/2020 #twewytober 2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Decorations

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya & Hanekoma Sanae

Characters: Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Hanekoma Sanae

Additional tags: Pre-game, creation story, Dead God’s Pad, also lots of hcs over joshua's phases as like a person but what do you expect of me, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Not Beta Read

Summary: “Producers can procure things swiftly from the Higher Plane, can’t they?” Sanae nods. “Good. I’m renovating the Officer quarters. I want toughened glass and tanks for schooling fish,” the Composer explains. “I’m thinking of a blue room, accented with white - get some wood for lengthening the baseboards. Something comfortable.”

He chews his lip. “Is this what you want?”

“Sanae, I used to stutter, I used to lisp, and you know I did. I don’t anymore.”

Beginning notes: Addendum: This was first written on October 13th, 2020 and first uploaded on October 18th, 2020. always liked the dead god's pad. pretty dope. sastify is growing on me. also trying to fit all my Big Joshy Ideas like this is a longfic and not a 800 word piece written in one day. related to the piece for food ig

Body: “Producers can procure things swiftly from the Higher Plane, can’t they?” Sanae nods. “Good. I’m renovating the Officer quarters. I want toughened glass and tanks for schooling fish,” the Composer explains. “I’m thinking of a blue room, accented with white - get some wood for lengthening the baseboards. Something comfortable.”

He chews his lip. “Is this what you want?”

“Sanae, I used to stutter, I used to lisp, and you know I did. I don’t anymore.” Something about him started changing and before he noticed it the dominos fell and fell: the swagger he carried himself with now; his stage-fright voice becoming smoothly slow; the anxious awkwardness changing into an aloof leader; how at this point, it can’t be cologne, the scent of paulownias is so strong on him; discarding his human name because Composers shouldn’t feel like their subjects.

Sanae can’t get ahead of himself, though; he needs to keep up with the demands of his Composer, especially one as freshly presumptuous as him.

-

At least the Composer has the thought to find his own furniture. Simple off-white couches pushed to the walls, a sheepskin rug thrown in the middle with an irregular glass table. Sanae smiles, asks him what he thinks.

“There’s something missing here,” the Composer stares around the emptiness, his eyes latching to a wall. “Put a bar down here. Sake and whiskey and vodka and wine.”

“Aren’t you too young for that?” Sanae tries to come from a measured position but he swears he can see the Composer’s face drop immediately.

“I can change the fabric of the UG and Shibuya entirely but I can’t have a fucking drink?” the Composer’s twisted face still can be seen through his blurry white aura he hides behind. “Did I really give up my humanity to become a Composer but apparently I still have a blood-brain barrier that’s illegal for me to get drunk on?”

When did this kid change so fast, when did he get so difficult and sharp-eyed and, “No, I wasn’t implying it was against UG law,” no, he still sees this young doe-eyed boy in the Composer, “I’m not sure if you’d know what bottles,” he’s fucking omniscient, Sanae--

“I’m fucking omniscient, Sanae.” He’d think of saying yeah, I knew you’d say that, but he feels like walking on eggshells around this such, demanding Composer. “I’d probably know them from the cellars and fridges of my old home anyway,” he continues.

Sanae starts writing the list of bottles and drinks needed in his head. “Why go through all this renovation, though?”

“This room is fucking dreadful. There are blackened sewer walls everywhere and you think the Officers can work in there? Shibuya isn’t the place I remembered it as.” The Composer opens his arms wide, waving them across the room. “I’m putting table soccer here, too,” he mutters, dropping his arms to his sides, “Fuck it. When I’m done, this will all be part of my image.” Sanae understands this is someone he needs to obey; he can’t imagine what will start from the Composer and the Higher Plane if he acts out. At this moment, he runs the brand names by the Composer even if all he wants to do is ask him by his human name and if he’s still there.

-

Wrapping his picked-skin fingers around the cup. Yoshiya takes the tiniest sips from the almost-white coffee. “My hands are too s’aky most of the time but I like fulball.”

“Boy, it’s a hoot imagining you with the NFL gear yanks wear,” Hanekoma laughs.

“Fulball!” Yoshiya mimes turning the rods with his hands. “The table, not fulball.”

“Ah! I played a mean game of air hockey as a youth,” Hanekoma nods, staring over at Yoshiya. “Get that coffee in your gullet before it goes cold. Might stop you from getting hypothermia today.”

“It’s so cold…” Yoshiya takes a slightly more substantial sip. “Uncharacteristically cold for now. We haven’t - ack, acclimb--”

“Acclimatise. Wish sometimes I could hibernate through the winter like a bear,” Hanekoma smiles, but something flashes in Yoshiya’s eyes.

Yoshiya raises his hand like he’s still in a classroom. “M’fourteen in Febwuey. Februwi. Febab,” he pushes his drink away and puts his head in his hands, “Three months. Couldn’t invite you to the party but I want to,” he mewls, “my mot’er makes it all about her a lot. I jus’ want her to give me ss’io or musrooms… not big parties of people I don’t know.”

“You’re not going to be a kid forever,” Hanekoma muses. “When you’re older, maybe we can get you birthday shio. Get away from mumma, huh?”

“Oh, I’d… like that a lot, Mr. H.” He gives that uneven, crooked smile, that admirable way he keeps a grin through all his nervousness. “I wanna keep living for that.”

End notes: i only really used yoshiya as a vehicle for unpublished childhood vent shit since a scrapped username idea was JoshuaSympathiser69. i kind of like writing him nice young boy who takes too much milk in his coffee and can't pronounce his shs and will recite poetry for you. that and im a slut for paulownia references involving josh too

#twewy #the world ends with you #joshua kiryu #sanae hanekoma #yoshiya kiryu #twewytober 2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Equipment

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Characters: Sakuraba Neku, Misaki Shiki, Bito “Beat” Daisukenojo, Bito “Rhyme” Raimu

Additional tags: Pins, Non-binary Rhyme, some mentions of neku’s dead best friend + grief, this is pretty silly otherwise, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Not beta read

Summary: The pins rattle against the table as Rhyme spreads them out evenly neat. “You might want to start a collection with these,” they say, craning their neck to meet Neku’s eyes at his gangly height, “it’s a wonder how you get these.”

“Phones ‘ought to have some cleftoemania! Some dat, social disease.” Neku weakly lifts his hands like if he’s trying to defend the inexplicable amount of pins he’s amassed, not stolen, but the words don’t come out.

“If the psych whiz is a pin magnet,” Shiki’s eyes shine, “then he must be able to tell us what their psychs are!”

Body: The pins rattle against the table as Rhyme spreads them out evenly neat. “You might want to start a collection with these,” they say, craning their neck to meet Neku’s eyes at his gangly height, “it’s a wonder how you get these.”

“Phones ‘ought to have some cleftoemania! Some dat, social disease.” Neku weakly lifts his hands like if he’s trying to defend the inexplicable amount of pins he’s amassed, not stolen, but the words don’t come out.

“If the psych whiz is a pin magnet,” Shiki’s eyes shine, “then he must be able to tell us what their psychs are!” She picks up the pink and white one with a two-tier candled cake, BIRTHDAY GIRL! emblazoned on the front in an uneven, kiddish font, staring at Neku expectantly.

Neku thinks for three seconds. “Draw a circle around yourself. If you’re a girl and it’s your birthday the Noise stop fighting and hold a birthday party for you. Does nothing if not.”

“Do you think the Noise bring cake?” Shiki asks.

“Cake’s crap,” Beat wrinkles his nose. Shiki gasps. “Jus’ sugar! Give me food I’ll actually eat and make it rare, yo.”

“The should give you back your entry fee!” Rhyme chimes in, their voice pitching higher. “Imagine dying on the week of your birthday, those wolves should apologise for your poor luck and gift you your memories or dreams or valued person and wish you well.”

“Too easy, man,” Beat says, scanning the other pins. “Next one.”

Rhyme grabs a black pin with spindly white font off the table. Neku can see their pupils moving left to right, left to right, left to right, “Oh! That’s that American hard rock band, right?” Her eyes light up as she turns it around and presents it to the group. “Don’t understand why they have such an indecipherable logo… why can’t they just, be themselves?”

“Rhyme, every band from America is hard rock and with a wack logo,” Beat chatises them, “You’re the smart sib!”

“I listened to them a lot when my best friend died,” Neku’s eyes slip close and he strokes one of his spikes, “don’t anymore.”

“Every pin has a story, huh?” Shiki laughs. “So many of these have a personal story.”

“One day I’m going to attract a third player pin,” Neku deadpans.

“Doesn’t explain the birthday girl pin, yo! You get that in elementary!”

“Guys,” Rhyme whines, “can we let Neku explain the pin now?”

“The psych is uh, like Onmyo,” he starts, to several confused faces, “I… used it to clear a wall once. It creates a shock wave from amps, its like Onmyo but it plays their music and it gives the Noise continuous damage. Taboo Noise aren’t hurt.”

“Yeah,” Beat’s tone like if this is obvious, “it's your partner that hits Taboo, not you!”

“I meant their names,” Neku flips open his phone, remembers the Noise Report doesn’t exist anymore and has to remember it off the top of his head. “Taboo noise are named like Neoclassical and Death Metal and everything, right? Those really intense forms.”

“Makes sense,” Shiki says. She lifts up a new pin, with an uneven grey border and a clip art person in a superhero outfit, with some motto about choosing your own path.

“Is this some character development thing?” Neku giggles at that, but sours up again as he comes up with the psych. “Teleport. Tap an empty space and you teleport.”

“Nuh uh! It has to be velocity attack.” Shiki tuts. “Don’t underestimate how gentle it looks!”

“Didn’t you say I was the psych genius here?”

“Only when your ideas are wrong!” Shiki grins. “Gosh, they should’ve let me use every pin.”

“Shiki!” Rhyme squeals. “Do this one, do this one!”

“So if you tap an obstacle with this one,” Shiki explains, “you can…”

#twewy #the world ends with you #neku sakuraba #rhyme bito #beat bito #13/10/2020 #twewytober 2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Secret

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Misaki Shiki & Sakuraba Neku, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya & Sakuraba Neku, this can be read as nekushiki if you squint. that’s their magic.

Characters: Sakuraba Neku, Misaki Shiki, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya

Additional tags: Trauma Nightmares, self-care, warning for a paragraph of blood and violence that might be triggering, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Beta Read

Summary: It’s like sometimes Neku gets this idea in his head that Joshua is some lonely boy like him he’d want to intellectualise with, and not a callous murderous death god in a human kid’s clothing who hasn’t talked to any of them in months.

Beginning notes: Addendum: This was written and published on October 12th, 2020. this was originally about lines from w2 that'd fucking Hurt with the final twist that turned into neku's frustration with absentee joshua that became trauma dreams somehow. still feel like i need to redo introduction but at that point i was at like 900 words and just wanted to finish it since i bloody overscoped this huh. nobody said i had to follow the prompt mate

blows a kiss to will @makosinnergy for reading through this and pointing out some rather incoherent lines

Body:

“The Composer... The guy in charge of Shibuya?”

“Correct. We're in the Composer's Game. The Reapers are just his enforcers. They execute his designs.”

“Some designer. His Game royally sucks.”

“Hee hee... doesn’t it?”

-

It’s like sometimes Neku gets this idea in his head that Joshua is some lonely boy like him he’d want to intellectualise with, and not a callous murderous death god in a human kid’s clothing who hasn’t talked to any of them in months.

Even a mention of that name swamps him with some prissy kid he’d whack like he almost did to Shiki and the mistreated boy who doesnt like people just like Neku did and the killer who has all the impunity in the world to keep a vice grip on his partner and the imperfect protector he wouldn’t ever be able to apologise to a killer and the villain who put him through all this to someone he respects and wants to talk to for once… if he can fucking pick up the phone when Neku keeps calling, calling, calling.

-

Remembering anything he dreams about is such a rarity to him, but there’s been far too many late nights where he wakes up from his counting like a rocketship to blasting what was his… friend? to pieces and becoming a fucking murderer coated in dark, clotty blood that weighs his clothes like an iron ball (the one anyone who takes a life like that deserves). The blood doesn’t stop gushing and pooling and running all the way up the walls, the static fizzes even harder in his ears and clouds his reddening vision as the body falls apart, wilts and sinks like a plucked daisy going brown. Because of him, because of him, because of him

And then Neku’s torn away from those nightmares, his pyjamas soaked in so much sweat he can’t stop seeing as blood. He curls up fetal position trying to gather the energy to either sleep or get out of bed but he can’t, he’s fixed in this spot as the minutes drawl past like hours, tired and terrified and the dread washing over him when he realises fuuuck, it’s a school night. When the sun rises his hands still shake too much to do his hair and he walks into the building, with weak spikes that barely stand; he wasn’t really looking in the mirror much, brought his headphones and went.

Shiki pulls him into a corner minutes before class starts, asking if he’s up to going into class when she’s noticed how paranoid, puffy panda-eyed he looked. His breathing gets funny when he starts babbling about how he had a nightmare he shot Joshua and there was blood fucking everywhere as Shiki’s eyes flash every few seconds as she keeps track. She presses her hand to his chest, “You said that was the third time? Did you manage to shower after it?”

Neku is stone-cold lucid when he freezes up, “No? It was in the middle of the night, it’d wake everyone up. I couldn’t move from my room."

“Hey Neku,” Shiki chews her cracked lips, “are you free after school? I want to take you somewhere. I think it’ll help you.”

After stumbling through a blur of classes it leaves him tired and sleepy and not paying attention to where they go until he zones back into aisles that he vaguely remembers as a store he visited back in the Game. He mumbles where, she answers Nishimura Drugs in Q-Heads. She takes him to an aisle full of towels and cloths and as she bundles packets of baby wipes into his arms she explains that when she feels far too miserable to shower she tries to at least use wipes so she can feel clean enough.

“It’s recurring,” she says, “and I don’t want you to turn up like that again feeling and looking horrible no more than you need to. You can call me if you need to, all people need is a good listener.” When they pay and leave the pharmacy she asks if he needs to be walked home.

It maybe takes five days until a terrified, guilty Neku sees the taunting glow of 1:09 blink as his unsteady hands try to select Shiki’s number. She answers just after the first ring dies out, her voice grave and worried as he recounts the nightmare again. “Get out of your pyjamas and put them in your hamper, get the towels from your drawer and try to get all your sweat off,” she coaches Neku.

He finishes drying his legs when the regret becomes too heavy to handle, pricking at his already swollen eyes. “I couldn’t save him.” he wrenches out from the fast-coming sobs.

“Who? Joshua?” Neku grunts through the phone to Shiki’s question, and she takes it as a yes. “But he’s still… alive, isn’t he? If he’s brought us all back…”

“So fucked up,” he says, to no-one in particular. “How do I tell the headshrinker I died? That I wish my killer would call back? That I spent a month in purgatory that he was god of and having to,”

“Isn’t there someone,” Shiki tries to suggest something, “not a headshrinker, who’d know about and could talk to you the Game?”

“I don’t know!” Neku’s voice cracks, reaches a shaky sobby screech. “Saw Mr. H when I died standing and smiling right there with Joshua but WildKat never opens.”

“WildKat?”

“His café! Need t’make lockpicks if I want answers, I,” he swallows in a shaky, hitched breath and only then realises how frantic his voice was and he almost deflates. “M’sorry, Shiki.”

“Sorry for what?”

“You… you don’t know this and I’m forcing you to listen when you were only there for--”

Shiki takes a deep breath on the other end. “We can have a do-over tomorrow, it’s only one now. I’m here to listen to you even if it’s not about me, I was trying to say that with the headshrinker thing. Hey, are you finished cleaning?”

Neku opens his eyes after the line goes dead to see a perfect white feather lying across his chest, glittering in the (when did he fall back asleep?) morning light. He opens the window, shifts the weight in his knees, slings a feather as well as he can through the air resistance. His anger translates to a soft drop from his third floor to the ground, but he follows it up with his still-sore, throaty voice. “I want answers, not these fucking feathers!”

End notes: october 12th is the two year anniversary of twewy final remix's worldwide release and two year anniversary to permanently altering my brain chemistry over this stupid fucking dead teen simulator i hope this is good enough

#twewy #the world ends with you #neku sakuraba #joshua kiryu #shiki misaki #12/10/2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Darkness

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Characters: Sakuraba Neku, Misaki Shiki

Additional tags: Short, Autistic Sakuraba Neku, Amnesia, Not beta read, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020

Summary: Neku counts another breakdown in communications with, he can’t even remember her, Stalker? and he can’t figure out how the words from the bottom of his heart come out robotic, stilted, cynical.

Beginning notes: Addendum: This was first written and uploaded on October 11th, 2020. really could not think of much ideas here i think im reaching the dud prompts of twewytober. or ive come down with Artists Syndrome. was originally neku and his habit changes after his bestie got hit by a bus but i realised i couldnt really write that.

anyways ben folds five narcolepsy is a w1 neku song, write it

Body: Neku counts another breakdown in communications with, he can’t even remember her, Stalker? and he can’t figure out how the words from the bottom of his heart come out robotic, stilted, cynical.

He doesn’t remember where he was meant to be from, how to be someone. Everyone else understands this, and that void at the bottom of his brain makes him furious. He doesn’t know half of the locations his partner spits out as common knowledge, how can you live in this country and not know what Hachiko is? or anything he’d be good at except for all the pins slotted all over the clothes he doesn’t know why he’s wearing. He’s been pulled from shop to shop and made to model for all these garments she knows so much more about than him. Everyone makes him so much more angrier and confused when she can name all these people they’ve met in, how many days, and he asks how she does it and she gets on her high ground about something he doesn’t know or understand.

Stalker tells him about how nice Eri was to her. Neku’s only awake for the hours of the mission, but he feels too emotionally exhausted to say anything of value. He doesn’t speak, and that sigh and some hopeful saying in one ear out the other with him makes him believe in that moment he belongs to another planet.

End notes: my break ends tomorrow bets are off if i can get through this while contending w school. i at LEAST want to get to 21 if i drop off after the 21st i'm not counting it as a failure because the prompts caught me since i first saw the list get published. tomorrow has more meat on its bones if thats more promising

Addendum, 30/11/2020: i didn’t. i still miss my idea for prompt 21

#twewy #the world ends with you #neku sakuraba #shiki misaki #11/10/2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Choice

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Sakuraba Neku & Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya & Hanekoma Sanae

Characters: Sakuraba Neku, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Hanekoma Sanae

Additional tags: Alternative POV, Second person POV, Not beta read, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020

Summary: 10. The future the Composer’s pick - no, Neku Sakuraba - must choose is within him.

Beginning notes: Addendum: This was first written and uploaded on October 10th, 2020. this is a SUPER hard prompt in the context of twewy with the linearity of it when usually its a brilliant writing prompt when general, and really didnt want to go for the obvious low hanging fruit but i guess i had to... sigh. first line is taken from the another day secret reports

i had a lot more to say here but turns out my battery's running super low which is Fuckin Sweet

Body: 

10. The future the Composer’s pick - no, Neku Sakuraba - must choose is within him.

9. The city’s souls beat in both of them, the god and his proxy in their battle of wills.

8. You can tell when he lifts his gun up high, its a shaky fake-tough bravado.

7. You knew it’d come to this; despite the best efforts of you, His Proxy, His Conductor, He’d destroy it all and more and you could, tried to stop him.

6. But you can’t. But he can’t. And He can.

5. And Sakuraba drops his gun, hands quaking, tears falling to the ground.

4. You think of Him as Composer; a child wanting god and learning the emptiness still stays in him when he’s on top of it all. Composerhood leaving him wanting of the destruction of Shibuya.

3. You think of him as a Composer; his white-hot fire, an adolescent developing in all senses carrying too much grief, too many souls on his back. Composerhood bringing him the trauma of Shibuya.

2. You think of yourself as the Producer; not servant of the Composer, not servant of the Higher Plane. When they elected you, you swore your allegiance to Shibuya and no-one further.

1. But you never will. But he never will. And He will.

0. The bullet doesn’t hurt any less than the last time.

11. But He drops his gun, hands quaking, tears falling to the ground. “Revive it,” he orders, “We need to keep it.”

#twewy #the world ends with you #neku sakuraba #joshua kiryu #sanae hanekoma #twewytober 2020 #writings #fanworks #10/10/2020

[memcaked]

Team

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Kariya Koki & Yashiro Uzuki

Characters: Kariya Koki, Yashiro Uzuki

Additional tags: Banter, dialogue-heavy, pre-game, Queen, can be read as ship, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Not beta read

Summary: Uzuki’s spindly fingers hit the buttons on the boombox, killing the thrumming bassline. She clenches her teeth, popping the top and ejecting the CD. “Whatever magical music ability you’ve got,” she gripes, closing her entire hand over the disc, “Why can’t you turn it off? What’s the point if you don’t know the lyrics?”

Kariya doesn’t seem to be hearing anything as he leans against the door to this building’s rooftop, poring over something yellowed and inked. “Out of the doorway, the bullets rip,” he drones, not even realising the music’s off.

Beginning notes: you have NO idea how much i've been craving to write about kariya, mate... something about 4 and 7 has me itching for it. i wanted to use more headcanons i have about him (like his past and how he's an Almighty Archivist Janitor who barely ever uses the UG history and law he has rolling around his brain) but it really only had the queen one. i am, really, truly sick of gomens and gaiman as an author and general presence myself but.... takes the "crowley's bentley turns everything into queen after enough time" for myself

Body: Uzuki’s spindly fingers hit the buttons on the boombox, killing the thrumming bassline. She clenches her teeth, popping the top and ejecting the CD. “Whatever magical music ability you’ve got,” she gripes, closing her entire hand over the disc, “Why can’t you turn it off? What’s the point if you don’t know the lyrics?”

Kariya doesn’t seem to be hearing anything as he leans against the door to this building’s rooftop, poring over something yellowed and inked. “Out of the doorway, the bullets rip,” he drones, not even realising the music’s off.

Her growl is aggressive and tired. “The same thing every time! I buy some new CD, the Prince or Def Märch or CAT N’ CORE, those were my last three buys - put it in some boombox, you touch it, you curse it! Like, hello?! I’m buying these to hear the latest songs I like, not to hear those songs for the first few days and then the same twenty, thirty ones you like ever after!”

“It just,” Kariya pauses, not from indecisiveness or nervousness but his laziness, “kind of happened. I think it started when I was sixteen.”

“Sixteen?! You’re incorrigible,” Uzuki drags her sharp, gloved hand down her face, “I need to buy a new boombox, one that you haven’t touched, make sure you won’t touch it again. You can only play anything on it if you’ve got a hazmat suit on.”

“We liquefied too much of our paycheck on celebratory ramen and drinks for your quarantined audio rig you’re masterminding,” Kariya chews a little more thoughtfully, brisker on his lollipop. “Be patient. There’s a lot of time you can use between this month and the next, Tiger.”

Uzuki prowls ever so forward, her heels clicking to her ulterior giggles. “So you agree, don’t you?” There are species of shark that have fewer teeth than a Uzuki Yashiro on her gotcha moment.

“If you’re so gabby, why don’t you tell me what I’m meant to agree to,” The papers fwub as Kariya tears his eyes off them, swinging them down.

“That you’d look forward to and want work?” Her hands are steepled, shit-eating grin on her face.

“Only for the paychecks, y’know.”

“You’re so boring, you know that?” Kariya doesn’t answer. Uzuki turns around and walks towards the opposite edge of the rooftop. You can hear the bodies wailing,” she monologues and gestures to the sky, “their lamentations, their guilt. Think of the points! The wage raises! The promotions deep inside them!” It’s like Uzuki almost swoons, her hands clasped together and voice shooting up to a soprano. “We can have it all. You hear them? When we get those souls, we’re talking Officer territory! As long as you can your ’aaaaaaah, i’m just not ready for commitment’ thing you got going on when I get offered a place there.”

“Nope, not happening,” Kariya shuts her down, shaking his head. “I’m fine down here.”

It’s like her face sours immediately, arms folded in disappointment. “What a ball and chain,” Uzuki bemoans, “One day you’ll come around.”

“Love you too,” Kariya says.

End notes: this one went out really quick once i put my mind to it actually. that's the power of team reaper rocket, baby

#twewy #the world ends with you #koki kariya #uzuki yashiro #kariyuzuki #because even if this isn't necessarily ship i can tag it for engagement B) #twewytober 2020 #09/10/2020 #fanworks #writing

[memcaked]

Handmade

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Eri (TWEWY)/Misaki Shiki

Characters: Eri, Misaki Shiki

Additional tags: Sewing, Mr. Mew, pre-game, Meet-Cute, Not beta read

Summary: This is the first real template Shiki’s drawn up and sewn herself. Or would it be sewing?

Beginning notes: Addendum: This was first written and uploaded on October 8th, 2020. day 7 was while really cool was also really exhausting... so, shiki sewing mr mew and meeting fashionista eri for the first time. learnt while writing this october 8 is international lesbian day, so i think this means we have to wish these two well

even if the actual sewing didn't actually make much of an appearance i went through a shitton of old plushie tutorials i used to watch and i feel like i am obligated to put some here. maybe watching stuffed animals being made is good for your mental health idk mate im not a therapist i just type words here.

mario plushie tutorials

alpaca sock plushie tutorial

sheep sock plush 

Body: This is the first real template Shiki’s drawn up and sewed herself. Or would it be sewing? Its been like this for days now - finishes her meagre lunch fast, reaches into her bag for the sewing box that’s so packed with threads and needles and felt her spine will be horizontal when she’s done, pulls out the carefully straightened templates encased in a large ziploc, and gets to work. It’s a clump of black felt that spreads out flat like a Rorschach, but when her needle goes through she knows it’s going to take form into the head. If she can make sure her blanket stitch loops do go through, of course…

She’d stuff socks and make these cutesy pill-shaped things, tape googly eyes and decorate them with her (god, not even fabric) markers, stitch up small charms she found in DIY books or online and knot them to zippers. She’s had this idea in her head for some time now, a black toy cat with white socks to carry around in your arms. And after all the sketches she did of how it’d move around or sit the template finally came to her - she used up 3 hours of her weekend drawing shapes and thinking in her head of what stitches she’d be using to piece them together. She’s only really started cutting up the felt and putting together the scraps recently and made her first stitch into it days ago.

The fabric joins together roughly - she pushes down raw edges and undoes the last six stitches when she realises how the seams will stick out like a sore thumb, trying to visualise how the cheeks group up to form the face (oh, she just realised the eyes and mouth need to be embroidered) and which point to attach the body to. She hears a thump, something like the ones of sewing machines--

“Hey,” Shiki jolts up, almost losing the thread off her needle. She scrambles to pick it up from the table and sees these stylishly smooth thin navy sneakers, washed red laces that reach up to her ankles. Her eyes travel up to the school uniform, grey tartan skirt to the black blazer unbuttoned at the top to reveal the white dress shirt with the red and white striped necktie. Up top, red-streaked hair that falls under her shoulderblades topped with a dark grey newsie. She’s only okay at faces, but Shiki assumes this is the sleeper hit Eri, the fashionable, bubbly, popular, smart, the all-star girl she sees.

“Who are you?” Shiki must be staring owlishly at this girl with her hands clapped over her mouth in a dreaded shock. She swears she saw that paperboy cap jump in how fast she moved.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to shock you like that!” The girl lifts out her hand, wearing this warm smile tinged with an apology. “I’m Eri, yeah. I, didn’t want to interrupt but I’ve been watching your sewing for a few minutes now and I wanted to tell you how good you are with a needle… how long have you been doing this?”

“I’ve spent a week on this,” Shiki lifts up the ziploc. “He’s meant to be a cat. I don’t know what to name him…”

“Mr. Mew.”

“Hm?”

“I said, call him Mr. Mew.” Eri points up, eyes glittering like this is her eureka moment. “It’s a cute name for a toy cat and it’s alliterative. You’ve just got his head?”

“It’s a work in progress, I haven’t even finished his head, I still need to bring it together and do the rest of him.”

“What’s he going to look in a week? A fortnight?” Eri’s eyes blow wider and wider like if she’s imagining something immaculate, sprung from golden thread and six-figure thread counts.

“In a week I think I’ll be doing his body. Or starting on the stuffing. If I really crunch in two weeks, maybe I can,” Shiki’s thoughts trail off, but Eri’s excited awe cuts the slack for her.

“He’ll be finished?” Eri claps her hands, grinning this pearlescently white smile. “Mr. Mew’s going to be a handsome little cat. Next period’s starting soon, can I visit you again? And see him again?”

Shiki stares down, lazily pulling another stitch through the loop. “Come all you like.”

End notes: i guess this didnt touch upon too heavily on the sewing thing but i tried to make shiki sound noviceish with this GOD why does mr. mew look so good i did textiles in school and i was heavily intimidated by my teacher who was this 60 something woman who's been sewing since 12 and has had a living ruler in her brain and would laugh at me when i had to count centimetres with rulers. also had a in-built centre of gravity/alignment and assured me she cannot leave any wonky frame alone even if the queen was there. i should've continued textiles alas stem/language consumes all my units

#twewy #the world ends with you #shiki misaki #eri #erishiki #twewytober 2020 #08/10/2020 #writing #fanworks

[memcaked]

Petrify

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Characters: The Reaper who missed the meeting from Week 3 Day 5, Kariya Koki, Sakuraba Neku, Kitaniji Megumi, Yashiro Uzuki, Minamimoto Sho, Bito “Beat” Daisukenojo

Additional tags: Apocalypse, Misanthropy, reaper who missed the meeting is also losing their hearing, POV Second Person, Further Warnings in Author’s Note, hivemind, Not beta read, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020

Summary: When Kitaniji called that emergency meeting of his, you were grumpy.

Beginning notes: Addendum: this was first written and uploaded on the day of October 7th, 2020. hm so this was certainly not the "wacky shaun of the dead-esque joke about the reaper who missed the meeting upset about all their friends who are ignoring them" that it was meant to be, um. ah.

warnings might be overboard but genuinely did not expect this to be this dark, do want to be better safe than sorry. this work has these very clinical discussion of death and apocalypse and i... i know twewy do be a game all about death but i really do feel some of this is toeing the line. reaper also has hearing + memory loss which might hit too close to home?

to be honest, reflecting on how swiftly a turn this took when i was writing in such a bad mood? i guess writers do fall into their same patterns very quickly.

Body:

When Kitaniji called that emergency meeting of his, you were grumpy. Emergency Calls are for when the UG’s existence is threatened, and as far as you were concerned, the stress is centred around the souls and bodies piling up while the Officers obsess themselves over some prickly kid’s Imagination. So you jigged. It’s a very simple thought process.

Three weeks is so much work; when you’re processing dead, of course, there’s a wintertime uptick, of course, there’ll be no shortage of souls during wars and bombings and accidents and floods and heatwaves and storms. UGs get put under lots of pressure. Kariya told you it’s happened before, in 2 games of the past 10 years, but it was much more common back then. You haven’t seen Kariya or his Yashiro understudy since he told you that.

(Why has it become so empty? There are two fucking players and one of them is that supposed prodigy who crashed and burnt out in his first week, how do so many… so many Reapers drop off? When was the last time you saw those towers of junk and garbage and smashed-up goods that’d kill your smell when you came up to it? There’s so much, so much of the same noise for so little Reapers, where did it all come from?)

The O-Pins the Officers must have issued at the emergency meeting was another brands stunt like the one last fortnight, you thought. Some magical placebo dud to rain hell on two players who didn’t know how to quit, and you’re not too sure if that’s really a bad thing. On the day you last saw Kariya, he danced away with Yashiro in their hushed voices that your hearing on its way out couldn’t grasp other than his skeptical “... they keep the chains on?” You used the cudgel of how you don’t need these special buffing pins to give a good fight though when you look at everyone, the stillness, the simpleness, the ceaselessness, you think you could… who the fuck are you kidding. You haven’t talked to anyone since those two players the UG is going to ruins to get their souls nearly challenged you to a fight, asked about your other friends and why you’re not repeating… whatever they were talking about. You could hear what they said in the first few hours they went like this, but it became background noise to you, your hearing numbing it further.

Something started panicking in you since those two Players talked to you. “These teenage boys are very well going to be the last people I’ll speak to,” it said, “And what will be left over when they’re gone? When they’re gone for the collateral damage of everything?” it feared, “The Officers or the Conductor might not be like this, but what are the chances a lowly wall reaper could meet them?” it screamed. You started moving across all of Shibuya, seeing the same solidified crowds and the drone of voices too quiet for you, searching for anybody in the mix that didn’t have the cursed O-Pin. A lost soul in the sea of to count the wireless Wongs of belfrey or what they’re meant to repeat, repeat, repeat.

You touch any of the actors in the tableaux vivants those stupid pins have made of every corner of Shibuya and that ugly-bright red stare flashes with the same sentences you can barely remember. Maybe hoping they’ll snap out of it, only to hear them recite with the same delivery every time. And from all of the trying with the exact same results, you’re sure you’re hallucinating all the accents. You swore you bumped into some pale pink statue that had such a euro twang you heard the what a wunderkind word sucks vood be as you abandoned it to repeat its trite words to itself, and for those same words to stumble through one ear and out the other with you.

The winds of Dogenzaka chill you to your bones. You peer through the ramen shops’ dark windows, the ones that were all the rage last week, their flashing LEDs off, dirty dishes left on the drainers for the rest of the single-digit days this place has left. You shift in and out of the UG as you stroll by, the reaper decal zoning you back and forth between the collision course that’s Kitaniji’s plans and the living humans of Shibuya. You wonder if its time to give up. You sit on the low windowsill (wow, no hostile architecture?) of some bistro, seeing flashes of your Reaper comrades you can barely name or see their faces of, and wonder what went so horribly wrong.

This morning you know you knew what the kids looked like, Freshmeat without his wings and that fiery, spiky hair screaming for attention, but everything but their biggest details are fading, muddying, merging into the frozen, reddish-grey of the pedestrians, their eyes flashing and droning their motto every, you’ve lost so much track of time you don’t even know. You don’t even know the time except for the blazing Shibuya sun and bitterly frosty nights. You don’t think you remember the date, despite living your unlife by the Timelimit within 7 days. There won’t be anyone left but you, your darkening memory and your deafening hearing and stumbling around the hivemind’s world.

You can see the sun dipping below the skyline. Not that you know when’s the end of this week, but you give Shibuya ‘till the end of that for its unthinking, monotone swan song Maybe when it’s the end and there’s nobody with their wits left, the UG can go through the dead easier. Maybe they’ll be able to write the countless longs or whatever they repeated before everything went solid. It’s a touch strange that even though you’re dead in the ground you’re the one who’s seeing the end of the world.

End notes: or, as a rewording of the final line and keeping in the style this was written in, the world ends with y

realised when i was writing the ending of this probably was thinking of Inventory by Carmen Maria Machado (very nsfw. warnings for an attempted rape in one paragraph and General Pandemic End-Times which were intriguing when this was published back in 2017 but Fucking Terrifying in this day and age!) esp with some final lines. ooo you want to read her body & other parties so bad ooo

#twewy #the world ends with you #twewytober 2020 #07/10/2020 #writing #fanworks

[memcaked]

Food

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Characters: Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku, several minor OCs

Additional tags: Autistic Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Not beta read, TWEWYTOBER 2020, TWEWYTOBER

Summary: Yoshiya is a twelve-year-old watching his too-big TV that gives him many too-big headaches in his too-big house when he sees the commercial.

Beginning notes: Addendum: this was first written and uploaded on the day of October 6th, 2020. wahoo thought this'd be some magnus opus but nah. wrote this too late and too messily to really say that in good faith

what i do have for some reason is joshua's family tree planned out well despite only having 3 of the many facts i cooked up for this. names. i gave them all fucking names. and it never appeared

Body: Yoshiya is a twelve-year-old watching his too-big TV that gives him many too-big headaches in his too-big house when he sees the commercial. That mystical Fukurai lady who’s on radio sometimes kissing what he thought was grossly artificial strawberry KitKats that flew off through a crowd of young attractive party people, dancing and laughing and making out before being sealed in frilly pink and purple packaging. “Fukurai Sync Bars, 20,000 yen,” the ad announces, “Eat one, and you’ll be making friends without even trying!”

He almost spills the pint of vanilla ice cream over his bedsheets when he reaches for the remote to pause. Yoshiya scrambles for any paper in his room to scribble the name down. 20,000 yen on food doesn’t really matter that much to an atrociously affluent, antisocial boy.

There are so many good people, strong, nice, warm people he desperately wants to befriend. He sees friends locking arms and visiting each other all the time and always, always joined at the adoring hip. Yoshiya only really wants to talk to be people about two things; Tin Pin Slammurai, and the wings. It gets really hard to talk to people when one fast-tracks you to the counsellor’s office and everyone sees “that toy anime” and not for the intricacies and lore that Yoshiya sees it as. When his eyes aren’t glued to the animals and people running away he can see just outside the gates that nobody else can, he’ll try to introduce himself to stumble and lisp through all the hard sounds. If they don’t leave before then he realises the massive void-like gap between what he wants to talk about and what any regular classmate wants to talk about, and it opens like a fresh wound with every new person. Nothing is as interesting to him compared to Tin Pin.

The day after he buys and binges on the sync bars for the first time, the social science teacher talks about a group project in threes when he hears a complaint behind him. “Shit, might have to be partners with Yoshiya.”

“Can’t get enough of Yoshiya Kiryu,” the other one says, making Yoshiya’s mood ephemerally lift until he continues with “What are the fucking chances that the kid of two socialities inherited zero charisma from either of them?”

Yoshiya turns around. He sees something he can’t name shift in their faces. “Co’llection! You’ve made a,” he clears his throat and thinks of how to reword it, “mistaken over their occupations? My stepfather is in the political profethion, not a s-socialite as you say.”

“Keyword step. Socialite, politician, what’s the difference? They all involve speaking and charisma,” the boy behind him says. He tries to lower his voice, like its not something Yoshiya and his ears which always hurt from the noise should be hearing, “Mum’s always partying even when she’s rounding out the thirties and stepdad’s must spend all his time in Chiyoda... no fuckin’ wonder he doesn’t know how to talk.”

Yoshiya clears his throat, takes a deep breath. Tries his best to make sure he doesn’t trip over the syllables in his sorries. “I’m, I, apologise for my poor elocution,”“Your what?”Yoshiya stares wide-eyed, wringing his hands. “My manner of spee’ss?”

“God, you’re hopeless.” He waves Yoshiya away, “I’ve seen all I need to see. Please don’t talk with us again, we’ll find someone else for the project.” Yoshiya blinks once, twice, three times and it's all blurry and wet. He rehearses the sentences his impediments get in the way with in the mirror, thinks how to interact and get his point across, and even with the blessed bars he can’t get through. He claps his hands over his ears and hears all the gossip still.

“Politicians’ kids have it rough…. remember the… ? the press drools at a hyperactive kid… sad fate for…”

It never really does get better for Yoshiya. He unwraps more sync bars, gets rejected, sees the wings, eats more sync bars, meets a man who understands the wings, hears his mum’s booked a psychologist, craves the artificial strawberry of sync bars, learns the secret’s gotten to the school, sees a Drake up close and phases through the graffiti fire, eats the sync bars until everything ends.

Joshua doesn’t talk much about his death. When he’s asked about his last words, he says it’s “Friends, huh?”. That’s a lie. Sanae and him are the only ones who know what it actually is. But in his painting of Yoshiya as a fervent believer in philosophies that chewed him up, it’s how he wants him to have been remembered.

“What are you eating?” Neku’s eyes shift staring at Joshua’s food. “Don’t remember buying that.”

Joshua chews fast, swallows hard. “Sync bar,” he explains, “Some top medium in the country blesses this. It’s alright.” He stretches his hand out, offering another bar he was about to unwrap.

Neku pushes it back towards Joshua. “You like that shit?” Neku snorts, “What other weird things do you like? I’ve never met anyone who’s eaten that thing and enjoys it. Always 20,000 yen down the drain.”

Joshua unwraps the rejected sync bar, takes a first bite out of it. “If that’s what you think,” he says between chews.

#twewy #the world ends with you #joshua kiryu #yoshiya kiryu #neku sakuraba #06/10/2020 #twewytober 2020

[memcaked]

Road

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Characters: Atarashi Coco, Sakuraba Neku, Bito “Beat” Daisukenojo, Hanekoma Sanae, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya

Additional tags: Not beta read, A New Day spoilers, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020

Summary:

MYTH: How did I end up back on the Scramble, anyway? And why do I still have this pin?

FACT: The Reapers’ Game is back! Like, gag of the season and literally no one told me about it? Sooo weird, right? I thought Shibuya was finally back to normal, but lol nope jk.

MYTH: You bet I mind your “trio”.

FACT: What? You’d really leave a poor, powerless little girl like me all alone?

MYTH: Ain’t nobody ever said nothin’ ‘bout no Expert Mode! I’m startin’ to think we should blow off this mission, yo.

FACT: Like, my Reaper senses are telling me this is totez the real deal. Are u REALLY sure that’s a good idea, tho?

Beginning notes: funny story: i finished 100%ing twewy final remix in july and for a large chunk of it i'd be in a new day. there's a lot of new pins you have to look for and master, if you know where to go there's a lot of cheap broken exploits that make some rather tedious processes ten times faster, and dissonance noise just give out tons of BP so they're great for pin grinding too. i'd grind late into the night and i'd go to bed after that, and always have these vivid nightmares about being chased down by something i didn't know through this place where as soon as i had a handle on the layout it'd shift and be something new entirely i'd have to learn. it'd always catch me and tackle me to the ground and i'd wake up. i don't touch twewy much since i 100%d it but yeah no more new day grinding before bed

Body:

MYTH: How did I end up back on the Scramble, anyway? And why do I still have this pin?

FACT: The Reapers’ Game is back! Like, gag of the season and literally no one told me about it? Sooo weird, right? I thought Shibuya was finally back to normal, but lol nope jk.

MYTH: You bet I mind your “trio”.

FACT: What? You’d really leave a poor, powerless little girl like me all alone?

MYTH: Ain’t nobody ever said nothin’ ‘bout no Expert Mode! I’m startin’ to think we should blow off this mission, yo.

FACT: Like, my Reaper senses are telling me this is totez the real deal. Are u REALLY sure that’s a good idea, tho?

MYTH: My visions aren’t something I’ve forgotten… they’re something I never knew in the first place.

FACT: hm… no use crying over spilled memories or whatever they say, right?? Maybe u’ll totez remember everything when we’re out! Or its a hallucination or smthing!

MYTH: Who are they an’ what they done with Lollipop and Pinky?

FACT: i’m like, pretty sure this is how theyve always been the pink-haired lady HATES her job and the other guy totez adores. We’re not bffs i left Shibuya after the game idk much lol

MYTH: All these visions are looks into the future. Does that mean Joshua will kill me again?!

FACT: u must be totez fucking sad when ur a litcheral homicidal god and STILL ur a pussy ass who cant fire 1st

MYTH: … I know someone who may be able to offer some insight. H-his name is “Hanekoma”?

FACT: that creepy old guy is going to trap u. u should see his beard its so sus. dont say i didnt warn ya

MYTH: The entire city -- everything around you -- is one giant Noise.

FACT: that’s sooo fake. LOL who could even make an enormous Noise like that? im just a cute little harrier

MYTH: And where would the exit would have led these boys?

FACT: im not telling fuzzface that.

MYTH: I’m going with Shiki to buy some materials for fixing Mr. Mew tomorrow.

FACT: miiiight need to do some rescheduling. There’s not enough time in the day when you need to be the body dead on the ground.

End notes: Addendum: The second half of these notes have been altered from original upload to add more explanation. this was going to be some short basic prose on neku's exhaustion during a new day but i was washing dishes and thought of this onion article and the idea of coco """debunking""" facts about the expert reapers game came to me. to be honest a lot of this is lifted from her canon a new day lines, especially ones at the start. i freestyled the "joshua will shoot me again" fact and edited her dialogue to sound more in line with what i wrote, which probably is not what you want to do to make in character characters now i reflect on this?? i think im meant to bow back now

#twewy #the world ends with you #coco atarashi #neku sakuraba #beat bito #twewytober 2020 #writing #fanworks #05/10/2020

[memcaked]

Creature

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: minor Minamimoto Sho & Hanekoma Sanae

Characters: Minamimoto Sho, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya, Kariya Koki, Hanekoma Sanae, Yashiro Uzuki, Sakuraba Neku  

Additional tags: taboo noise, multiple POVs, experimental structure, Beta Read, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020

Summary: 

1a. When Minamimoto draws the sigil for the first time, his head crunches the measurements and ratios in split seconds.

1b. When Joshua sees the black ‘roo for the first time, he couldn’t name what Noise it was meant to be.

1c. When Kariya sees the sigil for the first time, the diagrams in the reports flash through his head.

Beginning notes: Addendum: this was written and uploaded on the day of October 4th, 2020. notes from the original upload have been edited to reflect that this fic isn’t hosted on AO3 anymore. "i'll probably skip this twewytober because i really need to catch up on sleep," i said. "if i do it'll probably be very simple since i dont have any ideas for today's prompt," i said.

this actually got typed out really fast compared to previous twewytobers and i know the length had something to do with it but i estimate i did all of kariya's lines in less than ten minutes

thanking will @makosinnergy for reading this to test out what i was trying to do. thanks mate mwah mwah

Body:

1a. When Minamimoto draws the sigil for the first time, his head crunches the measurements and ratios in split seconds.

1b. When Joshua sees the black ‘roo for the first time, he couldn’t name what Noise it was meant to be.

1c. When Kariya sees the sigil for the first time, the diagrams in the reports flash through his head.

2a. His bullets had nothing against that Composer, stopped like he’s the second coming of Neo, and pumped a load in his right arm (it still burns there).

2b. Him and Neku were meant to be at Molco, but Joshua wants Sanae here.

2c. He was annoying Uzuki by being profoundly, proudly tone deaf on but I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me, while hunting the GM.

3a. He thought Angels were a simple mathematical impossibility until he discovered that one iteration of Angel wanted to teach him Taboo.

3b. Is Shibuya so far gone that this corrupt cesspool is breeding supernoise? Megumi and Sanae would be proven wrong by this bullshit.

3c. He knows the archived reports; this one report from the sixties where the conductor vanished a week after it was drawn.

4a. When Minamimoto corrects his congruences and shows his work, he has proof solid enough to factorize the Composer into his lesser roots, simplified for the picking.

4b. It’s going to hell; this city needs to be killed dead, atomic bomb it, pumped full of lead, hit with a comet.

4c. First he goes off the radar, then his new art is a coup plot?

5a. “Soon… soon I’ll have my desired solution.”

5b. But for the time being it does seem like a chance to aggravate Neku over the sickly sweet partner sap.

5c. His voice’s deadly stern and monotone when he orders her, “Uzuki. Get on horn with HQ, now.”

End notes: something i've been noticing is when i write these twewytobers i always end up studying something for it. 1 was watching hair tutorials since it was about Eri doing Neku's hair, 2 was the japanese school system for some details Beat mentions even if they weren't really necessary, 3 was history of lolita and the current state of the Harajuku fashion scene when it was still going strong in 2007, and there isn't even a Harajuku in 3. this one was reaganomics??? i can't remember why. nothing about money or the economy comes up here at all. still can only really tell you as much as i knew what reaganomics was about before i started this compared to when i posted this

#twewy #the world ends with you #joshua kiryu #sho minamimoto #koki kariya #twewytober 2020 #writing #fanworks #04/10/2020