Wendy

20| Reverse Harem Obsessed Lunatic | Filipino | ‼️FUCK YANDERE DEV ‼️| Love the Game : Hate the Creator

[coldnstinkyjinky]

‼️ Ayano Aishi redesign ‼️

In my version of Yandere simulator, Ayano is able to feel emotions after she bumped into Taro Yamada, like a domino piece that started a chain reaction.

Headcanons:

*Ayano is easily overwhelmed with emotions because the moment she bumped into Taro, it was as if she had just been born, her emotions attacking her all at once. While she felt the beauty of emotions, she also felt the bad parts.

*Ayano is one of the smartest students in her class, although she's still learning how to navigate her emotions, she surpasses her peers academically.

*Ayano loves shopping and getting cute outfits or materials for herself, even before she bumped into Taro. Just because she can't feel anything doesn't mean she doesn't like squishmallows 😫 a girl can feel nothing and still hoard squishmallows ‼️‼️

Also I changed her hair into very long braids because in previous headcanons, Togo Atatsuma raised her.

He doesn't like tying her hair into a ponytail because she always looked uncomfortable wearing a hairstyle similar to her mother's, and he doesn't want to cut his baby girl's hair 😫‼️ So he learned how to braid her hair. The style stuck with her that even when Togo wasn't around (he's just workaholic), Ayano braided her hair to feel her father-figure's love.

Wanna read more about the storyline of my version of Ayano? Check out "Victoria and the Two" on AO3!

[coldnstinkyjinky]

what color does a car produce when it eats cheese

Ladies and gentlemen, my boyfriend.

[madasfmaxedoutjinxedness]

I don't fuck with social media, but I wanted to post somewhere, where no one knows who I am, because y'know, digital foot print, and I wanna post mostly about my work on AO3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

go read it if you're into Yandere Simulator but fucking hate Alex Mahan

it's based on the premise of the game that Jay from the Kubz Scouts played-- the Crime Scene Cleaner

except instead of Kovalsky we follow @coldnstinkyjinky 's version of Osano Najimi. Instead of Yandere-Chan|Ayano Aishi as the main character, she's just the love interest. After reading Victoria and the Two I felt compelled to use her version and her style of YanSim's world.

I wanna admit, I'm in 1st year college. I'm busy most of the time, I can't draw and I could only produce ideas, so most of my "writings" are just expanded by AI, it's a tool. it's not fully made by AI. AI is something you control or manipulate into doing what you want. It doesn't control you. Please give my work a chance, maybe it might entertain you. If you don't, it's fine

Anyway if you do give it a chance, thanks, hope to interact with this community more.

[coldnstinkyjinky]

ew i already hate ittttt

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Falling from Grace

Iacobiel had once stood among the highest of Heaven’s ranks, a seraphim whose name carried weight in the celestial realm. His wings, vast and radiant, shimmered with the golden hues of divine fire, and his voice, when lifted in praise, could shake the very foundations of the heavens. He had never once doubted his place in the celestial order—until the moment he fell.

His fall was not sudden. It began as a whisper of doubt, an ember smoldering beneath the weight of righteousness. Iacobiel had always been fascinated by humanity, drawn to their raw emotions, their hunger for purpose, their ability to carve meaning from suffering. Unlike his brothers and sisters, who saw mortals as fragile and fleeting, he saw in them an unshaped divinity—potential that, if guided correctly, could rival the glory of the angels themselves.

Perhaps that was his first mistake.

It started with a man—a devout scholar named Elias, whose faith was unwavering but whose spirit was burdened by grief. His wife had been murdered by corrupt men, and in his despair, he called out for justice. Iacobiel, unseen, had watched him cry out to Heaven for vengeance, his hands trembling as he clutched prayer beads worn smooth from years of devotion.

Iacobiel had the power to comfort him, to whisper peace into his soul. But peace would not right the wrongs done to Elias. Peace would not punish the wicked.

And so, for the first time, Iacobiel defied the order of Heaven—not in anger, not in malice, but in what he believed was justice. He did not command Elias to act, nor did he touch the mortal’s mind. Instead, he nudged. A whisper, a thought. The idea of retribution was already rooted in Elias’ heart; Iacobiel merely watered it.

"Would justice not be righteous?"

It was barely a breath, a suggestion that Elias took as his own revelation. The mortal took up his blade, seeking out the men who had shattered his world, and in a storm of divine fury, he struck them down.

Iacobiel watched, silent.

But as the blood cooled and Elias wept over the bodies, the weight of his actions settling into his bones, Iacobiel felt something he had never known before.

Guilt.

The heavens did not strike him down immediately. He returned to the celestial realm, wings still bright, his place still unshaken. But the moment he crossed the threshold, he knew he had been seen.

The other angels did not understand. He was brought before the Thrones, the highest of the high, their gazes impassive yet unwavering.

"You have sown corruption among the mortals," they decreed.

"I gave him what he asked for," Iacobiel argued, his voice steady. "I gave him what we never do. He sought justice. I merely helped him see the path."

"You manipulated his will. You turned his grief into murder."

"It was already there," he countered. "I simply—"

"Did not trust in God's judgment," came the final voice, one that shook him to his core. Not from the Thrones. Not from the others.

From Him.

Iacobiel had known the presence of God all his existence, an all-encompassing warmth, a certainty that wove through his very being. Now, as judgment was passed, he felt something far worse than anger or disappointment.

He felt absence.

His sentence was spoken, but he barely heard it. His wings darkened, their celestial glow fading into gray. The divine fire within him dimmed, replaced by the aching emptiness of mortality. As the celestial gates shut behind him, his last glimpse of Heaven was not of golden light but of a sky growing ever more distant.

And then, he fell.

For days, he tumbled through the skies, his body no longer weightless, no longer untouched by gravity. The wind howled in his ears, the heavens above turning into an unreachable expanse. The earth, foreign and cold, rushed to meet him.

When he finally hit the ground, he did not rise. He lay among the ruins of his fall, wings broken and useless, his body battered by the elements. The celestial fire that once coursed through his veins had dwindled to embers. He was no longer a seraphim. No longer an angel.

He was nothing.

And as he stared up at the darkening sky, the enormity of his exile settled in.

He was alone.

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Osomatsu-san but Ichimatsu is the only girl (Childhood)

Still rusty with drawing after months of not being able to-- that's why my artworks look so inconsistent 😭😭

Headcanon:

*Matsuyo probably loves making Ichimatsu wear dresses and accessories (girl mom core)

*Matsuyo and Matsuzo want Ichimatsu to have long hair, but Ichimatsu wants to fit in with her brothers so she cuts it with scissors whenever she gets her hands on one-- forcing Matsuyo and Matsuzo to get her a haircut similar to her brothers

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Go on a walk, they say

It will be fun, they say

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Osomatsu-san but Ichimatsu is the only girl

[beckyv2016]

Class of '12

just three middle schoolers going on a joyride what's the worst that can happen...👀

[Why is it called class of 12? well because my characters takes place in the year 2012 🤪]

@coldnstinkyjinky

a little Easter egg from a fanfic I'm reading called Victoria and the two 🤗 that my main Oc Ella is reading calmly (she's emotionless) during the chaos of her friends (she's used to it)

OC's names:

Ella Lee

Mido Midoriya

Aka

[coldnstinkyjinky]

👀

[coldnstinkyjinky]

My headcanon for my Yansim AU: Osano Najimi plays the electric guitar & used to play in the Light Music Club until he got kicked out: I never got to add it into the book so here's the story and the song:

Visit Original Link

(I edited BimyH's Guitar Solo into TV Girl's full song, please go and support TV Girl and BimyH on Youtube)

The stage lights cast a warm glow over Saikou's Preparatory Institute auditorium, illuminating Osano as he stood confidently in the spotlight. The anticipation in the air was almost tangible as students began to gather, their chatter and excitement filling the space.

Osano’s gaze scanned the crowd, his eyes catching on familiar faces. His best friend, Rai was near the front, his usual grin on full display as he cheered Osano on with palpable enthusiasm. Next to him stood his childhood friend, Ayano, her expression inscrutable. She was calm and composed, her eyes locked onto Osano with a steady, unwavering support that contrasted sharply with Rai's exuberant energy.

As the members of the light music club busied themselves with last-minute preparations, Miyuji, the club leader, approached Osano. Her face was a mix of authority and excitement. “Alright, everyone, get into position. Remember, this is our debut performance, so let’s make it count,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of the months of hard work they’d put in. “And Najimi, don’t go messing this up. We’ve worked too hard for you to ruin it.”

Osano shot Miyuji a look, one part annoyance, one part amusement. He rolled his eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it covered,” he muttered under his breath, though the playful edge in his tone belied his irritation.

As the final adjustments were made, Osano’s fingers twitched on the guitar’s neck, a silent promise to himself and to Ayano. This performance was more than just a showcase; it was a chance to show her, and everyone, that he was more than the reckless, hot-headed image he often projected. The dimming of the house lights signaled the beginning, and with one last glance at Ayano, he steeled himself.

Tonight, he was determined to give it everything he had. The house lights dimmed to a deep, velvet darkness, leaving only the stage illuminated.

The room fell into an expectant hush as the house lights dimmed further, leaving only the stage illuminated in a warm, golden glow. Miyuji, standing at the edge of the stage with a confident smile, raised her microphone to her lips.

“Good evening, Saikou’s Prep!” she called out, her voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd’s excited murmurs. “Are you ready?”

A roar of cheers and applause erupted from the audience, a wave of energy crashing over the stage. Miyuji's eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she gestured grandly toward the crowd, her enthusiasm infectious. The audience's energy swelled, a living, breathing entity of excitement and anticipation.

Osano took a deep breath, letting the sound of the crowd fuel his focus. He adjusted his grip on the guitar, his heart pounding in sync with the rhythmic thrum of the audience’s anticipation. He stole a quick glance at Ayano. Her eyes were fixed on him, a faint smile playing at her lips that was both serene and encouraging. It was a look that told him she believed in him, even if she didn’t say a word.

The tension on stage was electric, palpable in the way his fingers trembled slightly as they hovered above the strings. He locked eyes with his bandmates, each of them ready and poised. Miyuji's commanding presence was the only thing left between them and the start of their debut performance.

Miyuji nodded once, a signal that the moment was upon them. “Let’s show them what we’ve got!” As the first notes of the song burst forth from Osano’s guitar, the sound sliced through the air, sharp and powerful.

“Are you sick of me?” Miyuji sang, her tone both questioning and pleading. “Would you like to be? I’m trying to tell you something,"

"Something that I've already said.” Osano sang softly, though inaudibly as his eyes locked onto Ayano as he began to play his part. The strings of his guitar vibrated under his fingers, each note deliberate and rich. The melody flowed effortlessly, almost as if it was crafted for this very moment. His focus was singular, intensely drawn to Ayano’s unmoving figure.

Miyuji commanded the stage with an effortless grace, her voice cutting through the throng of students who had gathered. She sang with a captivating mix of seduction and melancholy.

Ayano’s eyes remained locked on Osano, her expression a mixture of admiration and something more complex. She watched him with a rapt attention, noting the way he seemed to lose himself in the music. Every so often, his gaze would flicker toward her, a brief moment of connection that sent a jolt through her heart.

"You like the pretty boy, with the pretty voice," She pointed playfully at various members of the audience, her gestures drawing them in, making each listener feel like a part of the performance.

Osano’s focus was sharp, his fingers deftly navigating the guitar’s strings, his movements synchronized with the rhythm of the song. He stole glances at Ayano, his eyes conveying an intensity that the loud music couldn’t drown out.

"Who's trying to sell you something," As Miyuji sang, her voice flowed through the microphone with a rhythmic seduction that captivated the crowd. Her lyrics echoed in the packed auditorium "Something that you already have."

Rai was in his element, singing along with the crowd, his voice rising above the noise with infectious enthusiasm. He was a whirlwind of energy, his presence a stark contrast to the more subdued connection between Osano and Ayano. The crowd around him bounced and swayed, caught up in the infectious rhythm of the performance.

"But if you're too drunk to drive, and the music is right," Miyuji's voice soared above the music, her tone both haunting and captivating as she sang the next lines, drawing the crowd deeper into the emotional landscape of the song. "She might let you stay, but just for the night."

Ayano watched Osano intently, her expression softening with each glance he cast her way. She could feel the intensity of his feelings in every chord, every look, and it stirred something deep within her. The music, the lyrics, and Osano's silent serenade created a potent mix that made her heart race.

"And if she grabs for your hand, and drags you along," The crowd sang along, their voices blending with Miyuji's, creating a chorus of shared emotion. She stepped closer to the edge of the stage, reaching out to the students who reached back, their hands upraised in eager response. "She might wanna kiss, before the end of the song."

"Because love can burn like a cigarette, and leave you alone with nothing," Rai, caught up in the excitement of the moment, sang along with the crowd, his voice blending seamlessly with the others. "And leave you alone with nothing." Rai was a stark contrast to Ayano, his exuberance and energy adding to the vibrant atmosphere.

The crowd was caught in the reverie of the music, swaying gently as Miyuji's voice painted vivid images of private moments and secret emotions. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the lyrics evoking a sense of nostalgia and longing.

"While the others talk, we were listening to lovers rock" As Miyuji transitioned into the next verse, her voice carrying the lyrics with an almost intimate quality, Osano's fingers glided effortlessly over the guitar strings. "In her bedroom, in her bedroom." The music shifted seamlessly, the melody flowing with a natural grace that matched the mood of the song.

Osano's guitar playing was both steady and fluid, his movements so practiced that they seemed almost effortless. Each strum and chord added depth to the performance, underscoring the mood of the song. His focus remained on Ayano, his eyes occasionally meeting hers in brief but intense exchanges. The music was his medium of communication, each note a part of the message he was sending her.

"And if you start to kiss, and the record skips," Miyuji's voice picked up the next verse, her tone softening as she sang, creating an intimate atmosphere that enveloped the crowd. "Flip it over, and sit a little closer."

The crowd's energy ebbed slightly, their attention drawn deeper into the personal story woven by the lyrics. Miyuji's performance was mesmerizing, her ability to draw the audience into the song's narrative unparalleled. She moved with grace, her voice a thread that tied everyone together in the shared experience of the music.

"But if you're too drunk to drive, and the music is right," Miyuji’s voice soared once more into the chorus, the crowd's energy surged with renewed fervor, their collective voices blending harmoniously with the music. "She might let you stay, but just for the night,"

The chorus was a magnetic force, pulling everyone into its rhythmic embrace. "And if she grabs for your hand, and drags you along," Miyuji’s presence on stage was commanding, her movements fluid and expressive as she engaged with the audience. "She might want a kiss before the end of this song." She raised her arms, drawing the crowd into the song’s embrace, her voice a beacon of connection amidst the sea of faces.

Rai, caught up in the infectious energy of the moment, sang loudly along with the crowd. His enthusiasm was a stark contrast to the quiet intensity of Osano and Ayano’s exchange, but it added a vibrant layer to the scene. Rai’s exuberance highlighted the contrast between the public spectacle and the private, unspoken dialogue unfolding between Osano and Ayano

Miyuji's voice rang out clear and resonant as she transitioned into the next verse, drawing the crowd deeper into the emotional core of the song. "Because love can burn like a cigarette," The crowd sang along, their collective voices creating a powerful chorus that echoed through the space. "And leave you alone with nothing," Miyuji's performance was electric, her presence commanding as she led the audience through the poignant lyrics. "And leave you alone with nothing,"

Miyuji paused as a performance between two members of the band unfolded on stage, their dialogue creating a moment of theatrical interlude

"Now, how many men have you kissed?" a voice asked, tinged with curiosity.

"Very few," came the quiet, almost shy response.

"But you offered me a kiss... why?"

"Such a foolish reason I'm afraid, I just... wanted to kiss you."

The crowd fell silent, hanging on to every word of the exchange. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, the vulnerability of the characters drawing everyone in. Osano watched in awe, the raw emotion of the scene resonating deeply within him. He glanced at Ayano, feeling a powerful urge to bridge the gap between them, to express the depth of his feelings for her.

As the scene played out, Osano felt a surge of emotion that he could no longer contain. His heart screamed at him to just tell her, to let her know how much he loved her. The intensity of the moment drove him to action.

Before Miyuji could sing the final parts of the song, Osano's fingers moved almost instinctively, launching into a guitar solo. The sudden shift in the music caught the audience by surprise, but the crowd quickly fell under the spell of Osano's passionate playing. Each note was a declaration, a heartfelt confession expressed through the language of his music.

The solo was raw and emotional, each strum of the guitar conveying the depth of Osano's feelings. His eyes remained fixed on Ayano, his gaze burning with the intensity of his love. The music flowed from his heart, bypassing words to communicate directly with her soul.

Ayano's breath caught as she watched Osano. The powerful emotions in his playing resonated deeply within her, the unspoken words filling the space between them. She could feel the strength of his love, the urgency of his confession, and it left her breathless.

Miyuji, noticing the deviation from their planned performance, stepped back and shot a frustrated look at Osano. She quickly turned to Beshi, one of their band members, her voice sharp with irritation. “What is he doing? He’s ruining our performance!”

Beshi, thinking quickly, leaned in and whispered, “Just go with it."

Miyuji hesitated for a moment, then nodded, regaining her composure. She turned back to the mic, her voice melding with the raw intensity of Osano’s guitar solo as she picked up the final lines of the song. "Do-do, do-do-do-do-do,"

Her voice was a perfect complement to Osano's passionate playing, the two sounds weaving together into a powerful crescendo. "Because love can burn like a cigarette," "And leave you alone with nothing," "And leave you alone with nothing." The crowd, initially caught off guard by the solo, was now fully immersed in the performance, their attention fixed on the stage.

Osano’s eyes never left Ayano, each note he played resonating with the depth of his feelings. As Miyuji’s voice blended with his guitar, the music created a bridge between them, a conduit for the emotions that words alone could not express.

The crowd was spellbound, their attention wholly focused on the stage. Rai, caught up in the powerful performance, cheered loudly, his voice blending with the enthusiastic responses of the other students. The unexpected turn of events had only heightened their appreciation, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch.

As Miyuji and Osano brought the song to its conclusion, the final notes hung in the air, a testament to the raw emotion and unspoken confessions that had fueled the performance. The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers a mix of admiration and awe for the powerful display of talent and emotion.

The host, a charismatic figure with a wide smile, stepped onto the stage, holding a microphone. He waited for the applause to die down slightly before speaking. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice booming with excitement, "let's give another huge round of applause for the incredible talent you've just witnessed-- Strawberry Thieves!"

The crowd's applause intensified, filling the room with an electric energy. Miyuji, Beshi, and the rest of the band stepped forward, taking a bow. Osano, still reeling from the intensity of his performance, glanced at Ayano one last time before joining his bandmates at the front of the stage.

Ayano, her heart pounding in her chest, clapped along with the crowd. Her gaze remained fixed on Osano, the raw emotion of his guitar solo still echoing in her mind. Rai, beside her, whooped and hollered, his enthusiasm adding to the celebratory atmosphere.

Backstage, the celebratory mood was quickly overshadowed by tension. Miyuji stormed through the narrow corridor, her frustration palpable. She found Osano leaning against a wall, still catching his breath from the performance. Her eyes blazed with anger as she shoved him roughly.

"Do you have any idea what the fuck you just did, Najimi?" Miyuji snapped, her voice harsh and edged with irritation. "You just had to steal the spotlight, didn't you? All because you were goo-goo eyes over that girl who doesn't even like you back."

Osano stumbled slightly from the shove, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Are you fucking kidding me? I poured my heart into that solo-- It wasn’t about stealing the spotlight—it was about expressing something real!"

Beshi, witnessing the escalating conflict, stepped between them, his face a mixture of concern and frustration. "Hey, cool it, Miyuji. He made the song better. People loved it. Just let it go."

Miyuji, her face flushed with anger, glared at Osano. "Better? You think so? He made it all about him. It was supposed to be a band performance, not his personal love letter to some girl who doesn’t even care."

Osano's anger flared. He took a step toward Miyuji, his voice low and dangerous. "You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about. Maybe if you weren't so caught up in your own shit, you’d see that I was just trying to make something meaningful."

Beshi quickly intervened, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "Alright, that's enough. This isn’t going to solve anything. Miyuji, you need to calm down."

Miyuji pushed Beshi’s hand away, her voice rising in frustration. "No, if Najimi's just going to do his own bullshit and ignore the rest of the band, then he can get the fuck out. I’m not putting up with this crap."

Osano's fists clenched at his sides. "Fine, if you can’t handle someone actually trying to put their heart into something, then maybe I don't want to be here anyway."

The backstage area grew tense, the noise from the crowd outside dimming in contrast to the fiery confrontation within. Miyuji's face was a storm of anger, her punk rock persona on full display, while Osano’s frustration matched hers.

Beshi, caught in the middle, tried to defuse the situation. "Come on, guys, we’re a band. We need to stick together. Let’s sort this out later. Right now, let’s just focus on cooling down."

Miyuji shot one last scathing look at Osano before turning on her heel, her anger simmering. "Do whatever the hell you want, Najimi. Just get the fuck out of my band and never return to my damn club."

Osano stood there for a moment, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his mind racing. The intensity of the confrontation left him feeling conflicted. The performance had been a breakthrough for him, but it had also ignited tensions that were now threatening to tear the band apart. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white with the effort to contain his anger.

Beshi's hand on his shoulder was a small comfort, but it wasn't enough to calm the storm raging inside him. He looked around the room, the faces of his bandmates a mix of concern and uncertainty. His eyes landed on his guitar, the instrument that had allowed him to pour out his heart on stage. It was more than just an object; it was his voice, his soul.

"Fuck this," he muttered under his breath. The words were barely audible, but they carried the weight of his frustration and hurt.

He strode over to where his guitar was resting, his movements tense and deliberate. He grabbed it, slinging the strap over his shoulder with a sense of finality. The familiar weight of the instrument was a small comfort, grounding him in the midst of the chaos.

Turning back to face his bandmates, he locked eyes with Beshi for a moment. There was a silent understanding there, a recognition of the bond they shared despite the turmoil.

"Fuck you," Osano said, his voice low and venomous. The words were directed at Miyuji, but they carried a broader meaning, encapsulating all the frustration and resentment that had built up over time.

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked out, the echo of his words hanging in the air. The backstage area felt stifling, the tension almost palpable as he pushed through the door and out into the cool night air.

As he stepped outside, Osano felt a strange mix of relief and loneliness. The night air was cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the heated confrontation he had just left behind. He walked a few steps away from the building, his thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and sadness. He had always felt alone, even within the band that was supposed to be his family. No matter how much he poured into his music, it never seemed to be enough to bridge the gaps between him and the others.

But then, in the dim light of the streetlamp, he saw two familiar figures waiting for him. Rai was animated, still riding the high from the performance, his excitement palpable. Ayano stood beside him, her expression softer, more concerned. The sight of her made Osano’s heart ache in a way that was both comforting and painful.

"Osano!" Rai called out, his voice full of enthusiasm. "That was amazing, man! You totally killed it out there!"

Osano managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. As he approached them, Ayano's gaze locked onto his, and she immediately noticed the sadness lurking behind his bravado.

"What happened?" Rai asked, his excitement dimming slightly as he sensed the tension.

Osano hesitated, the weight of the night's events pressing down on him. “I’m quitting,” he said finally, his voice flat. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them that Miyuji had kicked him out. Admitting that felt like another blow to his already bruised pride.

Rai’s face fell, his excitement dimming. “Quitting? Why? You were amazing out there!”

Osano shrugged, trying to keep his emotions in check. “It’s just… not working out. Too much drama.”

Rai looked disappointed, but it was Ayano who seemed to understand there was more to the story. She didn’t press him, though. Instead, she stepped closer, her eyes searching his.

“You okay?” she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the concert.

Osano met her gaze, the sadness and frustration in his eyes speaking volumes. He nodded, though it felt like a lie. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, forcing a smile.

Ayano didn’t believe him, but she respected his need to keep things to himself. She simply nodded, accepting his answer for now.

Rai, still trying to wrap his head around the sudden change, sighed. “Man, that sucks. But if it’s what you need to do, I get it. We’re here for you, dude.”

Osano felt a small measure of comfort in Rai’s words. Despite everything, he knew he wasn’t completely alone. He glanced at Ayano, her presence a silent reassurance. The night felt less cold with them there, and for a moment, the weight on his shoulders lightened.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, appreciating their support more than he could express.

As they started to walk home. Rai continued talking animatedly about the concert. He walked ahead of them, his excitement palpable as he relived every moment of the performance.

“Did you see how the crowd went wild during the solo? Man, that was something else!” Rai exclaimed, his voice carrying through the night.

Ayano and Osano walked close together, their footsteps synchronized. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. Osano could feel Ayano's presence beside him, a steadying force amid the turmoil of his thoughts.

As they passed by Akatsuka Park, the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of the city created a serene backdrop. The park's lamps cast a gentle glow, illuminating their path with a warm, golden light.

Rai finally paused at the park's entrance, turning to face them. “Alright, I’m heading this way. Goodnight, you two,” he said with a grin, his energy finally starting to wane.

“Goodnight, Rai,” Ayano replied softly, her eyes following him as he disappeared down a side street.

With Rai gone, the silence deepened, leaving Ayano and Osano alone. They resumed walking, their footsteps echoing softly in the night. The path to Akatsuka Station was quiet, the streetlights casting long shadows that danced with their movements.

As they walked, Ayano couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. She glanced at Osano, his face partially obscured by the dim light, but the sadness in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Osano,” she began softly, her voice breaking the silence. “Tell me the truth. What really happened back there?”

Osano kept his gaze forward, his jaw set. “I already told you the truth,” he replied, his voice flat.

Ayano wasn’t convinced. She knew Osano well enough to sense when he was holding something back. “I know something is off,” she pressed gently. “Please, just tell me.”

Osano’s steps faltered slightly, but he kept walking. “Ayano, I’m fine. I just… needed to leave, that’s all.”

She wasn’t going to let it go that easily. “Osano, please. I can tell you’re upset. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging with the weight of her words. They walked a few more steps in silence before he finally stopped, turning to face her. His eyes met hers, and she saw the turmoil within them.

“Shibakoya-senpai kicked me out,” he admitted, the words heavy with resignation. “She said I ruined the performance, that I was just doing it for myself,"

Ayano’s heart ached at his confession. She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. “I’m so sorry, Osano. That’s not true. You didn’t ruin anything. The solo was incredible, and you were amazing out there.”

Osano looked away, his expression conflicted. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m out of the band.”

“It does matter,” Ayano insisted, her voice firm. “You have so much talent, Osano. Don’t let her words get to you."

Osano shook his head, frustration evident in his expression. “It’s hopeless, Ayano. My parents… they’ve always hated that I love playing the guitar. They think it’s a waste of time, that I should focus on something more ‘respectable.’ And now, here I am, in a band that’s supposed to be about music, and even there, it feels like people hate me for it. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Before Ayano could respond, Osano reached into his bag and pulled out his guitar. He handed it to her with a sudden, almost desperate gesture. “Here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You keep it.”

Without waiting for her reaction, he turned and began to walk ahead, his steps heavy with the weight of his words. The guitar hung awkwardly in Ayano’s arms, a tangible representation of his turmoil and his trust in her.

Ayano stood frozen for a moment, the guitar feeling like a lifeline to the fragile connection they shared. Then, determined not to let him walk away, she hurried after him. Reaching out, she grasped his arm, her touch both firm and gentle.

“Osano,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly with the depth of her feelings.

He stopped, his shoulders stiffening, but he didn’t turn around. For a few moments, they stood there in silence, the weight of his despair hanging heavily between them.

Ayano stayed by his side, her hand still on his arm. She didn’t need to say anything; the gesture was enough to convey her support and understanding. Together, they walked in silence, the night around them filled with the soft sounds of their footsteps.

As they approached Akatsuka Station, the lights from the station illuminated their faces, casting a gentle glow over them. The night air was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the turmoil they had faced earlier.

They continued walking, side by side, the silence between them a testament to their unspoken bond. The path ahead was uncertain, but with Ayano’s presence beside him, Osano felt a sense of reassurance, a small but significant promise that he wasn’t entirely alone.

_____

Osano has another guitar solo that isn't in the book, so lemme know if ya'll want that hihi

[coldnstinkyjinky]

"I ain't no motherfucking step dad. I'm the dad that stepped up."

Doodles based on my book about Togo Atatsuma raising a 6 year-old Ayano Aishi after Ryoba and Jokichi left her in his care.

Osano and Ayano as 6 year-olds

Here are all of my papa Togo and baby Ayano doodles:

"Goodnight, my little swan,"

He calls her little swan because she loves Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, which inspired her to do ballet.

Baby Ayano being a sephora daughter and handing Togo a really expensive lip tint:

He definitely let her get more items

He was drinking pre-workout. She wanted to try it. So he makes strawberry milk for her and insists it's what he's also having

Ayano when Togo leaves her alone (he's taking a shit)

She's telling him he ain't getting bitches with that cut. So she's gonna help him fix it lmao

Papa bear and his baby bear

11 years later:

Concept art that I probably won't finish of teen Ayano and her papa bear. I call it "A Baddie And Her Daddy"

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Since ya'll seem to enjoy the snippet of Togo Atatsuma becoming Ayano's dad, here's a bunch of segments I wrote of Togo being a girl dad to Ayano. I might not be able to include them to the actual book so I'll just post the compilation here:

~~~~~

Togo Atatsuma was a man feared and respected throughout the underworld of the Yakuza. His rough demeanor, piercing gaze, and commanding presence struck fear into the hearts of those who crossed his path. As the underboss of the Atatsuma clan, Togo navigated the murky waters of organized crime with ruthless efficiency and a no-nonsense attitude. But amidst the chaos and danger of his world, there was one person who saw beyond his harsh exterior: six-year-old Ayano Aishi.

Ayano had been left in Togo's care after her biological parents, Ryoba Aishi and Jokichi Yudasei, had permanently departed from her life. Despite her emotionless demeanor, a result of the mental illness inherited from her mother's side, Ayano quickly formed a bond with Togo. She affectionately called him "papa," a title that softened Togo's hardened exterior whenever she spoke it.

One sunny afternoon, Togo decided to take Ayano out shopping for new clothes. He was not accustomed to the delicate nuances of children's fashion, but for Ayano, he was willing to venture into unfamiliar territory. They walked together through the bustling streets, Togo's large hand engulfing Ayano's small one in a protective grip.

They entered a quaint boutique filled with colorful dresses, dolls, and toys that captured Ayano's attention. Togo's imposing presence caused the shop attendants to exchange nervous glances, but Ayano paid them no mind as she eagerly explored the displays.

"Pick out whatever ya like, baby," Togo rumbled in his deep, gravelly voice, his rough slang contrasting with the delicate surroundings. Despite his intimidating aura, there was a gentle warmth in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

Ayano's expression remained stoic as she carefully examined each item, her thoughts unreadable to those around her. She pointed at a beautiful dress adorned with lace and ribbons, her gaze fixed on it with a rare hint of excitement.

"Papa, can I have this one?" Ayano asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Togo nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Sure thing, princess. Anything you want."

After selecting a variety of outfits, Togo and Ayano moved to the toy section. He watched as her eyes lit up, just a fraction, at the sight of dolls and stuffed animals. Togo picked up a plush rabbit, its ears floppy and soft.

"Would you like this, sweetheart?" he asked.

Ayano took the rabbit from his hands, her fingers closing around it tightly. Togo saw the faintest hint of a smile on her lips, a sight so precious it made his chest tighten with emotion. He added the doll to their growing collection of items. Anything she looked at with even a hint of interest, he got for her. Dresses, accessories, toys—nothing was too much for his little girl.

They left the store with bags full of new clothes and a few toys, Ayano clutching her new rabbit close with one arm while she clung to his hand. In the days that followed, Togo continued to spoil Ayano with anything she desired—whether it was a new dress, a favorite toy, or a sweet treat from the bakery down the street. Despite the harshness of his demeanor and the fear he instilled in others, with Ayano, Togo revealed a side of himself that few ever saw—a man capable of deep love and unwavering devotion to the little girl who had stolen his heart and called him "papa."

~~~~~

The dense canopy of trees cast a dappled shade over the forest floor as Togo Atatsuma, the feared and respected Yakuza underboss, led Ayano deeper into the woods. His rough exterior, with scars marking his face and hands, contrasted sharply with the tenderness he reserved solely for the little girl he now raised as his own.

Ayano, with her emotionless gaze and silent footsteps, followed closely behind, clutching the small backpack Togo had packed for her. Her face remained impassive, but Togo knew she was absorbing everything around her with a keen and calculating mind.

"Alright, princess," Togo grunted, his voice a gravelly baritone that could send shivers down the spine of any adversary, yet it held a strange gentleness when he spoke to Ayano. "First thing you gotta know is how to read the land. Nature's got a way of tellin' you where to go and what to avoid."

He crouched down, pointing at the ground, showing her how to identify animal tracks and signs of water sources. Ayano watched intently, her eyes following his every move.

"See this here?" Togo pointed to a set of tracks. "Deer. Means there's water nearby. Always keep an eye out for stuff like this. It'll save your life."

Ayano nodded, her face still a mask of calm. Togo felt a pang in his chest, knowing that teaching her these skills was necessary. His life in the Yakuza meant he wouldn't always be there to protect her, and she needed to learn to fend for herself.

"Next up, shelter," Togo said, standing up and scanning the surroundings. "Ain't no five-star hotel out here, but you gotta find a spot that'll keep you safe from the elements."

He led her to a small clearing with a fallen tree, explaining how to use natural materials to create a makeshift shelter. Ayano listened, her small hands working diligently as she mimicked his actions.

"Good job, baby," Togo praised, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Now, let's move on to the fun stuff—how to fight."

They moved to a more open area, where Togo demonstrated basic self-defense techniques. His movements were swift and precise, a testament to his years of training and countless battles. Ayano, with her small frame, tried to replicate his moves. Togo corrected her stances, adjusting her arms and legs, his touch gentle despite his formidable appearance.

"Remember, Ayano," he said, his voice low and serious, "you ain't always gonna have me around. You gotta be tough. You gotta be smart. Use your head, and never back down."

Ayano looked up at him, her expression unreadable, but Togo could see the determination in her eyes. She might not show emotions, but he knew she was taking everything to heart.

As the fire crackled low and the forest settled into nighttime stillness, Togo noticed Ayano's eyelids growing heavy. Her small form leaned against him, her breathing steady and calm. Gently, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her close as he stood up.

"You're a tough one, Ayano," Togo murmured softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "But even tough kids need their rest."

Ayano made no protest, her weight comfortably nestled against his chest. Togo navigated the darkening woods with ease, his steps sure and steady despite the uneven terrain. He kept a watchful eye out for any signs of danger, though he knew they were alone in these woods.

Finally reaching the edge of the forest where his car was parked, Togo carefully settled Ayano into the backseat. He tucked the blanket around her, ensuring she was warm and comfortable. Leaning over, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a silent gesture of protection and love.

"Sleep tight, sweetheart," Togo whispered, his rough voice softened by affection.

He closed the car door quietly and walked around to the driver's side. Starting the engine, Togo glanced back at Ayano through the rearview mirror. Her face was peaceful in sleep, the lines of worry and stoicism smoothed away for the moment.

~~~~~

One evening, as the setting sun cast a warm glow over their modest home, Togo sat at the kitchen table, meticulously cleaning his pistol. His rough hands moved with practiced precision, each movement deliberate and controlled. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside, a stark contrast to Togo’s world of danger and crime.

Ayano, with her emotionless demeanor, approached him quietly. Her presence was almost ghostly, her footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor. She stood beside him, waiting patiently until he noticed her.

“What's up, sweetheart?” Togo asked, his voice gruff but softening when he spoke to her.

Ayano’s gaze remained steady as she spoke, “Papa, I want to take ballet lessons.”

Togo paused, looking up from his work. Ballet was the last thing he expected from his stoic daughter. He saw the determination in her eyes, even though her face remained expressionless. He knew this was important to her.

“You serious, kid?” he asked, setting the gun aside and giving her his full attention.

“Yes, Papa,” she replied simply.

Togo sighed, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Alright, if that’s what ya want, I’ll make it happen. Can’t deny ya anythin’, can I?”

Ayano nodded, a small gesture of gratitude. Togo saw it and felt a warmth spread through his chest. He'd do anything to make her happy, even if it meant stepping into unfamiliar territory.

A week later, they found themselves outside a ballet studio. Togo’s imposing figure stood out against the pastel colors and soft music emanating from inside. He felt out of place, his rough exterior and intimidating presence clashing with the delicate world of ballet.

Inside, mothers and daughters bustled about, preparing for the lesson. Togo held Ayano’s hand as they entered, his stern face causing heads to turn. The mothers eyed him with a mix of fear and judgment, their whispers barely concealed. They saw a criminal, a dangerous man who had no place in their serene world.

Togo ignored them, focusing solely on Ayano. He knelt down to her level, his hard features softening. “You go in there and show ‘em what you got, alright? I’ll be right here waitin’.”

Ayano nodded, her expression unchanging but her eyes revealing a spark of determination. She walked into the studio with her new ballet slippers, blending into the group of girls, ready to learn.

Togo took a seat on a bench in the waiting area, feeling the stares of the mothers. He crossed his arms, his face set in a scowl, daring anyone to say something. Despite his rough demeanor, his eyes never left the studio window, watching Ayano intently.

The mothers continued to whisper, casting nervous glances his way. Togo knew what they were thinking, but he didn’t care. His only concern was Ayano. He watched as she moved with a grace that seemed almost natural, her emotionless face focused on each step.

An hour passed, and the lesson ended. Ayano emerged from the studio, her face as stoic as ever. But Togo saw the slight relaxation in her shoulders, the tiny hint of contentment.

“How’d it go, kid?” he asked, standing up and ruffling her hair.

“It was good, Papa,” Ayano replied, her voice steady.

Togo smiled, a rare and genuine expression. “Good. We’ll keep comin’ back then.”

As they walked out, Togo felt the judgmental eyes on him but paid them no mind. His daughter’s happiness was all that mattered. He’d endure any amount of scrutiny and disdain if it meant seeing Ayano find joy in something, even if she didn’t show it the way other kids did.

From that day on, Togo became a regular fixture at the ballet studio, the only father amidst a sea of mothers. He was a harsh, intimidating figure, a man feared by many, but to Ayano, he was just Papa. And that was enough.

~~~~~

The life of a Yakuza underboss was a relentless and brutal one, and Togo Atatsuma was no stranger to the violence and chaos it entailed. Despite his harsh exterior and the fear he inspired in others, there was one person who saw a different side of him—his six-year-old daughter, Ayano.

Togo's days were a constant balancing act between his responsibilities as a leader in the Yakuza and his role as Ayano's father. His life was a whirlwind of meetings, confrontations, and dangerous missions, but he always made time for Ayano. She was the light in his otherwise dark world, and he was determined to protect and care for her.

One evening, after a particularly vicious turf war, Togo stumbled through the door of their home, bloodied and battered. His suit was torn, and his face bore fresh cuts and bruises. He barely managed to close the door behind him before collapsing against it, his breath ragged.

Hearing the commotion, Ayano appeared from the living room, her expressionless face betraying no hint of the concern she felt. Without a word, she ran to Togo, her small hands reaching out to touch his arm.

"Papa is hurt," she said quietly, her voice steady.

Togo looked down at her, his harsh features softening. "Hey, princess," he rasped, managing a pained smile. "It's just a scratch. Nothin' to worry 'bout."

But Ayano wasn't convinced. She led him to the couch, her grip firm despite her small size. Togo allowed himself to be guided, sinking onto the cushions with a groan. Ayano disappeared for a moment, returning with the first aid kit she knew so well.

She began to clean his wounds with practiced precision, her touch gentle yet efficient. Togo watched her with a mixture of pride and sadness. No child should have to learn these skills, but Ayano had adapted to their life with remarkable resilience.

As she worked, Togo couldn't help but think about the contrast between his two worlds. In the Yakuza, he was feared and respected, his word law. But at home, with Ayano, he was simply "papa," a role he cherished above all else.

"You shouldn't have to see me like this, Ayano," he muttered, wincing as she applied antiseptic to a deep cut on his arm.

Ayano paused, looking up at him with her emotionless eyes. "It's okay, papa. I want to help."

Togo's heart ached at her words. He reached out, cupping her cheek with his rough, calloused hand. "You're a good girl, Ayano. Too good for a father like me."

She didn't respond, her expression unchanged. But she leaned into his touch for a moment before continuing her work. Togo watched her in silence, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He knew the dangers of his life, the constant threat that hung over them. He had to find a way to balance it all, to ensure Ayano's safety and happiness.

When she finished, Ayano carefully packed up the first aid kit and set it aside. Togo pulled her into a gentle hug, mindful of his injuries. "Thanks, baby. You're my little angel, you know that?"

Ayano nodded against his chest, her small arms wrapping around him. "I know, papa."

For a long time, they stayed like that, the world outside their small home momentarily forgotten. Togo knew he had to keep fighting, not just for his position in the Yakuza but for Ayano's future. He would do whatever it took to protect her, to give her a life better than his own.

~~~~~

The house was cloaked in the silence of the night, save for the occasional creak of settling wood and the faint rustle of leaves outside. Togo Atatsuma lay sprawled across his bed, exhausted from another day balancing his brutal life as a Yakuza underboss with his responsibilities as a father. His sleep was deep and dreamless, a brief escape from the chaos that ruled his waking hours.

Suddenly, Togo felt a small weight settle on his chest. His eyes flickered open, instantly alert, hand instinctively reaching for the knife he kept under his pillow. But as his vision adjusted to the darkness, he saw the familiar outline of his daughter, Ayano, slipping under the covers beside him.

"Papa," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "There's a monster in my room."

Togo's heart softened at the sight of her, his fierce expression melting into one of concern. Despite her emotionless demeanor, Ayano sought him out for protection, a clear sign of the trust she placed in him.

He sat up, lifting her gently into his arms. "A monster, huh?" he muttered, his voice gruff but tender. "Ain't no monster gonna mess with my baby girl."

Ayano clung to him, her small hands gripping his shirt. Togo carried her back to her bedroom, the floorboards creaking under his heavy footsteps. Her room was dimly lit by a nightlight, casting long shadows across the walls.

"Alright, princess," Togo said, setting her down gently on her bed. "Where's this monster at?"

Ayano pointed toward the closet, her face expressionless but her eyes focused. Togo squared his shoulders and strode over to the closet, throwing the door open with a dramatic flourish.

"Listen up, you damn monster," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "If you keep messin' with my little girl, I'll come in here and beat the crap outta you myself. Got it?"

He waited a moment, staring into the darkness of the closet, then slammed the door shut with finality. Turning back to Ayano, he saw the faintest hint of relief in her eyes. He scooped her up again, cradling her against his broad chest.

"Monster's gone," he assured her, carrying her back to his bedroom. "Ain't nobody gonna hurt you while I'm around."

Ayano nestled against him, her small body fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm. Togo settled back into his bed, pulling the covers over them both. He began to hum a soft tune, one he remembered from his own childhood.

"The monster's gone, he's on the run, and your daddy's here," he sang quietly, his rough voice surprisingly gentle. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl," He sang softly as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Ayano's breathing began to slow, her eyes fluttering shut as she relaxed in his embrace. Togo continued to hum the soothing melody, his heart swelling with love for his little princess.

He tightened his hold on her, vowing silently to protect her from every danger, real or imagined. As they drifted off to sleep, Togo's last thoughts were of Ayano, the one bright spot in his dark world, the reason he fought so hard every day.

~~~~~

Togo Atatsuma knew that every step he took in his bloody business was a step closer to danger for both himself and Ayano. The latest skirmish with a rival clan had been particularly brutal, leaving him bloodied and battered once again. This time, he had taken more hits than usual, his body a canvas of bruises and cuts.

As he trudged home under the cover of night, he hoped Ayano would be asleep. He didn’t want her to see him like this again. Each step was a struggle, every breath a reminder of the violence he couldn’t escape. When he finally reached the front door, he paused, taking a moment to collect himself before quietly slipping inside.

The house was dark and silent. Togo moved cautiously, not wanting to wake Ayano. He made his way to her bedroom, intending to check on her before cleaning himself up. But when he pushed the door open, the room was empty.

"Ayano?" His voice, usually a growl, was barely a whisper. Panic began to claw at his chest as he quickly searched the small room. Her bed was undisturbed, and her favorite plush rabbit sat neatly on her pillow. But Ayano was nowhere to be found.

Togo’s heart pounded as he rushed through the house, checking every room, calling her name with increasing desperation. "Ayano! Where are ya, baby?!" His harsh voice echoed off the walls, but there was no answer.

Frantic, he returned to her bedroom, his eyes darting around for any clue. That’s when he saw it—a note pinned to Ayano's rabbit. His hands trembled as he snatched the paper, blood smearing across the words as he read:

"We have your baby girl. Payback for today. Come alone if you want her back."

The note was signed with the emblem of the enemy clan they had fought earlier. Togo's vision blurred with rage, his mind a storm of violent thoughts. They had taken Ayano. His Ayano.

"Those bastards," he growled, crumpling the note in his fist. He felt like destroying the world, tearing it apart piece by piece until he found her. His fists clenched and unclenched, his knuckles white. They didn't know who they were messing with. He would make them pay.

Togo grabbed his phone, dialing his most trusted lieutenants. "Get the boys together," he barked into the phone. "We got a situation. Those fuckers took Ayano."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment, then a voice responded, "Boss, we'll be ready. Where do you want us?"

"Meet me at the old warehouse," Togo said, his voice a dangerous calm. "And bring everything we got. We're gonna burn 'em to the ground."

He ended the call and grabbed his gun, his mind already racing with plans. He knew where they would be hiding her. He knew their tactics, their weaknesses. He would tear through their defenses, show them the true meaning of fear.

As he drove to the warehouse, his thoughts were consumed with Ayano. Her small, emotionless face flashed in his mind, her quiet strength. She was all he had, and he would do anything to get her back.

The warehouse was a flurry of activity when he arrived, his men gearing up, the air thick with tension. Togo’s presence commanded immediate attention, his bloodied appearance only adding to his intimidating aura.

"Listen up," he snarled, gathering his men. "They took my daughter. We ain't leavin' till we get her back and wipe those bastards off the map. No mercy. No survivors."

His men nodded, their faces grim and determined. They knew what Ayano meant to him, knew the lengths he would go to protect her. They were ready to follow him into hell.

With a roar of engines, they set off, a convoy of vehicles cutting through the night. Togo led the charge, his mind a dark whirlwind of vengeance. The enemy clan had made a grave mistake, and he would make sure they paid dearly for it.

As they approached the enemy hideout, Togo felt a cold, ruthless calm settle over him. This was his world, his domain. And anyone who dared to threaten his family would face the full force of his wrath.

They stormed the hideout with brutal efficiency, Togo leading the charge. Gunfire erupted, shouts and screams filling the air. Togo moved like a force of nature, cutting down anyone who stood in his way. His only thought was of Ayano, of getting her back safe.

Finally, he found her, locked in a small room, her face pale but unflinching. She looked up as he burst through the door, her eyes meeting his.

"Papa," she said quietly, as if she had known he would come.

Togo's heart ached with relief as he swept her into his arms, holding her close. "It's okay, baby," he murmured, his voice gentler than it had been all night. "Papa's here. I got you."

He carried her out, his men finishing off the last of the enemy clan. The battle was over, but Togo knew the war was far from done. He would always have enemies, always face danger. But as long as he had Ayano, he would fight with everything he had.

That night, as he sat with Ayano in their home, the blood and chaos of the day fading into memory, Togo made a silent vow. No matter what it took, he would protect her. She was his light, his reason for fighting. And he would never let anyone take her away again

~~~~~

Let me know if you guys want more! I fuckin love writing these

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Any suggestions on what I should name the AU for Victoria and the Two?

Please leave your suggestions in the comments!

PS. release of 'Chapter 9: Birds Searching for Land' will be Tomorrow!

Anyway my phone is still broken, and I still can't draw, but here were my doodles before my phone broke:

🌟For my Ayano x Rai shippers🌟

🌟For my Victoria Ayano and the Two Enjoyers🌟

Anyways, it's almost been two months since I published Victoria and the Two, and I want to thank my supporters, even though there's only a few, you guys mean so much to me, you motivate me to keep writing. Thank you, and I'm glad you're enjoying the journey so far ❤️❤️❤️

[coldnstinkyjinky]

AHHH WHENS THE NEXT CHAOTER COMING OUTTT

Next chapter is coming out within this week ✨🎀✨ I just finished the draft, all I gotta do is edit 💅💅 Let me know what you're expecting for this chapter 😳👀‼️

[coldnstinkyjinky]

I spent all night reading Victoria and the two and I’m in love !!! I love your writing and ideas. I also love your art😍😍 please continue what you’re doing! Your absolutely amazing ❤️

🥺‼️‼️ Thank you so much for your support ❤️ it's very much appreciated 😍 feel free to message me if you have any questions ✨✨

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Info-kun's Backstory + the Son of Sonoko Sakanoue

I can't draw because my phone broke so here is a snippet is based on my yansim fanfic "Victoria and the Two" on AO3!

Some spoilers in case you haven't read chapter 8 yet: Chishiki Ito is info-kun, Yua Ito is the investigative journalist here in case you're still confused about that . I wrote this short story because I wanted to explore the Backstory of info-chan/info-kun in Yandere Simulator. The canon Backstory is already superb but ( fuck Yandere Dev ) I thought of enhancing his character arc on Victoria and the Two. Of course this isn't the story where he becomes evil as fuck, but this is his upbringing

_____

Ten-year-old Shinichi Tanaka sat quietly beside his mother, Sonoko Sakanoue-Tanaka, in the somber atmosphere of the funeral. They were there to pay their respects to Chisaki Ito, the wife of Yua Ito, who had been Sonoko's mentor during her high school years.

The small gathering was mostly made up of Chisaki's friends and family, who cast resentful glances at Yua as he sobbed uncontrollably by his wife's coffin. Sonoko's heart ached for her old mentor, knowing the pain he must be going through.

Sonoko gently placed her hand on Yua's shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. "Yua, I'm so sorry for your loss. Chisaki was a wonderful woman, and she will be deeply missed."

Yua's eyes were filled with tears as he looked up at Sonoko, his voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you, Sonoko. I don't know how I'll go on without her."

"You don't have to go through this alone," Sonoko said softly, her heart aching for her former mentor. "We're here for you, Yua. Whatever you need, just ask."

Yua nodded gratefully, but as Sonoko returned the infant to him, he hesitated. His hands trembled as he reached out, but he couldn't bring himself to take the child. "I'm sorry, Sonoko," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I need a moment."

Sonoko's heart went out to Yua as he excused himself, leaving her standing there with the baby in her arms. She sighed softly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

Turning to her son, Shinichi, she saw the concern in his eyes. "What's going on, Mom? Is everything okay?"

Sonoko forced a smile, trying to ease the worry in Shinichi's gaze. "Everything's fine, Shinichi. Yua just needed a moment alone."

Shinichi nodded, his expression thoughtful as he looked down at the infant in his arms. "What's his name, Mom?"

Sonoko's smile softened as she reached out to stroke the baby's cheek. "His name is Chishiki."

Shinichi's eyes widened in surprise. "Chishiki? That's an unusual name."

Sonoko turned to her son, a solemn expression on her face. "Could you hold Chishiki for a moment? I need to have an adult conversation with Yua."

Shinichi nodded without hesitation, his arms already reaching out to take the infant from her. He cradled Chishiki close to his chest, feeling a surge of protectiveness wash over him.

"I'll take care of him, Mom," Shinichi promised, his voice steady and determined. "You can count on me."

Sonoko smiled gratefully, leaning in to kiss Shinichi's forehead. "Thank you, my dear. I'll be back soon."

With that, Sonoko turned and made her way towards Yua, leaving Shinichi standing there with Chishiki in his arms. As he watched his mother go, Shinichi felt a sense of responsibility settle over him. He held Chishiki close, determined to protect him with everything he had.

As he rocked the baby gently, Shinichi couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for the little boy in his arms. Chishiki stirred slightly, his tiny fingers curling around Shinichi's thumb. It was a simple gesture, but it warmed Shinichi's heart.

"Hey there, little guy," Shinichi murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Chishiki's forehead. "Don't worry, I've got you. I'll keep you safe until Mom comes back."

Chishiki let out a soft coo, as if in response to Shinichi's words. Shinichi settled into one of the pews, cradling Chishiki in his arms. The church was quiet, the soft light filtering through the stained glass windows casting a warm glow over them. As he rocked back and forth, Shinichi began to tell Chishiki stories.

He told him about the adventures of a brave knight and his loyal steed, about far-off lands and mystical creatures. Chishiki listened intently, his eyes wide with wonder. Shinichi's heart swelled with affection for the little boy in his arms, and for a moment, he forgot about everything else.

But all too soon, Sonoko and Yua returned. As Sonoko approached, Shinichi felt a pang of sadness. He knew it was time to give Chishiki back to his father.

Reluctantly, Shinichi handed Chishiki back to Sonoko, feeling a sense of loss as he watched them leave. Sonoko placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

"You'll see him again, Shinichi," she said softly. "I promise."

Shinichi nodded, his heart heavy. He knew that Chishiki belonged with his father, but he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness now that he was gone.

As he watched Chishiki and Yua leave the church, Shinichi felt a sense of determination. He would keep his promise to protect Chishiki, no matter what. And he knew that somehow, someday, they would be reunited.

-----

For ten long years, Shinichi did not see Chishiki. Life moved forward relentlessly. At twenty years old, Shinichi was now in his second year of criminology, driven by a desire to be just like his mother.

His days were filled with lectures, assignments, and late-night study sessions, but he relished every moment, knowing that he was working towards a brighter future.

In the midst of his studies, Shinichi found solace in the arms of Chihiro Riritake, the love of his life. Their relationship had blossomed over the years, growing stronger with each passing day. Together, they made the decision to become independent of their parents, eager to carve out a life of their own.

They settled into a small apartment in Kodaka City, a quaint space that they could call their own. It was modest but cozy, filled with laughter, love, and the promise of a future together.

One evening, as the soft glow of the lamp illuminated their cozy living room, Shinichi sat at the table, engrossed in his criminology textbooks. Across from him, Chihiro poured over her English literature assignments, her passion for teaching shining through in her diligent work.

The peaceful atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by the ringing of Shinichi's phone. Startled, both Shinichi and Chihiro looked up, their attention drawn to the unexpected interruption. Shinichi glanced at the caller ID and recognized his mother's number.

"Hello?" Shinichi answered, his voice filled with curiosity.

"Shinichi, it's Mom," came Sonoko's voice from the other end. "I have something important to tell you."

Chihiro watched Shinichi intently, sensing the seriousness of the call. She remained silent, giving him space to listen to his mother's words.

Shinichi nodded, his mind already racing with thoughts of what could be happening. He turned to Chihiro, who was watching him with a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Mom wants us to go to Akatsuka City as soon as possible," Shinichi explained, his voice tinged with urgency. "She didn't say much, but it sounds serious."

Chihiro's expression mirrored his concern, and without hesitation, she set aside her work, placing a bookmark in her book. She grabbed her purse and coat, ready to accompany Shinichi on this unexpected journey.

Together, they hurried out of their apartment, locking the door behind them. The night air was crisp and cool, the streets of Kodaka City quiet as they made their way to the train station.

As they boarded the train to Akatsuka City, Shinichi's mind raced with a thousand possibilities as the train sped towards Akatsuka City. His criminology training kicked in, analyzing every potential scenario. Did his father get into an accident? Was their home broken into? His thoughts spiraled, each possibility more distressing than the last.

Chihiro noticed the turmoil in Shinichi's eyes and gently squeezed his hand, pulling him back to the present. "Hey," she said softly, "whatever it is, we'll face it together. We'll figure it out, okay?"

Shinichi felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. With Chihiro by his side, he felt a sense of calm and reassurance. He took a deep breath, allowing her words to soothe his racing thoughts.

Once they arrived at Akatsuka Station, Shinichi and Chihiro navigated through the bustling crowds, their steps quickening with each passing moment. They were eager to reach their destination and uncover the reason behind Sonoko's urgent call.

Shinichi's heart pounded in his chest as he rushed into his parents' home, his mind still racing with worry. But instead of chaos, he was met with a scene that stopped him in his tracks.

There, sitting at the dining room table, were his parents, Sonoko and Isshin, along with a red-haired 10-year-old boy. The child's expression was one of trauma, his eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

Confusion swept over Shinichi as he took in the sight before him. He turned to his mother, his voice filled with urgency. "Mom, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

Sonoko rose from her seat, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and concern. "Shinichi, this is Chishiki," she explained quietly. "The same Chishiki that you carried in your arms ten years ago."

Shinichi's heart skipped a beat as he looked at the young boy, his mind reeling with disbelief. Chishiki. The name echoed in his mind, stirring up memories long buried beneath the passage of time.

Chihiro, sensing the tension in the room, approached the boy with a gentle smile. She knelt down beside him, her voice soft and reassuring as she spoke to him in soothing tones.

Meanwhile, Shinichi turned back to his mother, his brow furrowed with concern. "Why is Chishiki here, Mom? And where's Yua?"

Sonoko's voice was laced with sorrow as she explained, "Yua... Yua left the country about a week ago. He... he left Chishiki behind." She paused, . "We only found out when Child Protective Services contacted us. They knew that Chishiki was in good hands with us, considering our history with Yua ."

Shinichi's heart sank at the news. He couldn't fathom how a parent could abandon their child like that. Turning to Chihiro, he saw the compassion in her eyes as she comforted Chishiki, who was still visibly shaken by the turn of events.

Shinichi looked at Sonoko, his mind swirling with a mixture of emotions. "Mom," he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "why did you call us over here?"

Sonoko met his gaze with a sense of resignation. "Shinichi, your father and I are both busy with our careers," she explained softly. "We've been trying to juggle everything, but with Chishiki here now... it's become even more challenging."

Shinichi's heart twinged with sympathy as he looked at the exhaustion etched on his mother's face. He knew that she and his dad were doing their best to care for Chishiki, but he also understood the toll it was taking on them.

"I know that you and Chihiro have your own lives to focus on," Sonoko continued, her voice filled with sincerity, "but I also know that you both have big hearts and a strong sense of responsibility. I... I was hoping that you could help us look after Chishiki."

Shinichi's mind raced as he processed his mother's words. He knew that taking care of Chishiki would be a big responsibility, one that would require time, effort, and sacrifice. But he also couldn't ignore the bond he felt with the young boy, the same bond that had formed all those years ago when Chishiki had been just a baby.

Looking at Chihiro, Shinichi saw the determination in her eyes, a reflection of his resolve. Without hesitation, he turned back to his mother and nodded firmly. "Of course, Mom," he said, his voice filled with determination. "We'll do whatever it takes to take care of Chishiki. He's family, after all."

Sonoko's eyes filled with gratitude as she reached out and squeezed Shinichi's hand. "Thank you, Shinichi," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for always being there for us."

-----

As the train rumbled along the tracks back to Kodaka City, Shinichi and Chihiro sat with Chishiki between them. The boy stared out the window, lost in thought, while Chihiro gently tried to engage him in conversation.

"Chishiki," she said softly, her eyes filled with concern, "I noticed you've been eating a lot of convenience store food. Where did you get the money for that?"

Chishiki's eyes flicked to Chihiro's face, then quickly returned to the window. He shrugged, his expression guarded. "I had some money saved up," he mumbled.

Chihiro exchanged a worried glance with Shinichi. The boy's response was evasive, and she couldn't help but wonder where a ten-year-old could have gotten the funds to support himself.

"Well," Chihiro continued, trying to keep her tone light and encouraging, "how about we make something nice for dinner when we get home? Would you like that?"

Chishiki turned to her, his eyes widening in surprise. "You're going to cook for me?" he asked, as if the concept was foreign to him.

"Of course," Chihiro replied with a warm smile. "I love cooking. And Shinichi here says I make the best omurice."

Shinichi grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "She's not lying, Chishiki. Her omurice is amazing. You have to try it."

For the first time since they had met him, a faint smile tugged at Chishiki's lips. "I'd like to try it," he said quietly.

The rest of the train ride passed in a mix of conversation and quiet contemplation. Shinichi and Chihiro told Chishiki about their lives, their studies, and their plans for the future, trying to make him feel as welcome as possible.

When they finally arrived at their small apartment in Kodaka City, the sun was beginning to set. The building was old but cozy, and the apartment itself was filled with the warmth of a place built on love and hard work.

Chihiro immediately set to work in the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and chatting with Chishiki about his favorite foods. Shinichi joined them, helping out where he could and making sure Chishiki felt at home.

As the aroma of cooking filled the air, Chishiki began to relax, his guard slowly coming down. He watched in fascination as Chihiro expertly prepared the omurice, her movements confident and practiced.

"Here you go," she said finally, placing a steaming plate of omurice in front of Chishiki. "I hope you like it."

Chishiki picked up a fork and took a tentative bite. His eyes widened in delight, and he quickly took another. "This is really good," he said, his voice filled with genuine surprise.

Shinichi laughed, ruffling Chishiki's hair. "Told you she was the best."

As they sat around the table, sharing a meal and stories, Shinichi felt a sense of contentment settle over him.

As the evening wore on, Shinichi and Chihiro could see the fatigue setting in for Chishiki. The boy's eyelids grew heavy, and he began to nod off at the table. Chihiro exchanged a gentle smile with Shinichi, and they quietly decided it was time to call it a night.

"Chishiki," Chihiro said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, "let's get you to bed, okay?"

Chishiki blinked, momentarily confused, but nodded sleepily. Shinichi stood and offered a hand to help him up. "Come on, buddy. We've got a nice, comfy bed for you."

They led Chishiki to the small bedroom they had hastily prepared, a cozy space with a bed neatly made with fresh sheets. The room was simple but welcoming, a safe haven for the young boy who had been through so much.

Chihiro knelt down beside the bed and helped Chishiki settle in, tucking the blanket around him. "If you need anything during the night, just come find us," she said, her voice gentle. "We'll be right in the next room."

Shinichi stood at the doorway, watching the scene with a mixture of tenderness and determination. "That's right," he added. "We're here for you, Chishiki. Always."

Chishiki glanced up at them, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Chihiro smiled and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight, Chishiki."

Shinichi stepped closer and ruffled Chishiki's hair. "Goodnight, kiddo. Sleep well."

They turned off the light and left the door slightly ajar, just enough to let in a sliver of light from the hallway. As they moved to their own room, Chihiro slipped her hand into Shinichi's, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"He'll be okay," she said softly. "We'll make sure of it."

Shinichi nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for having Chihiro by his side. "Yeah, we will."

They settled into their own bed, the events of the day swirling in their minds. As they lay there, side by side, they knew that they had taken the first step in building a new family, one founded on love, support, and understanding.

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Artwork dump for my yansim fuckyandev book: Victoria and the Two 😫‼️‼️

Chapter 9 isn't the final chapter btw, these are just plans for the Finale of Act 1

Anyway here's chapter 8 doodles:

Some spoilerz if you haven't read chapter 8 yet ✨

Osano with Braces, idk

Here's the first artwork without the words

No background+bloody clothing:

The reference I used:

If you're interested on what's going on, please Victoria and the Two on AO3 🥰‼️

[coldnstinkyjinky]

Beautiful Person Award. Once you are given this award, you're supposed to paste it in the ask of people who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out!🌸