Work Text:
Player was on the verge of tears during a therapy session, “I literally get cyberbullied everyday on this fucking computer! I don’t know what to do—” that’s when his therapist closed his laptop shut with no warning, leaving him confused.
“Problem solved.”
…
Meet Dr. Albert Krueger, a therapist with zero stars rating on yelp, which he claims is because his clients ‘can’t handle the brutal truth.’
--Roland sat on the couch across his doctor, “Krueger, it’s been years since my wife had passed, and I just don’t know how to move on,” he grieved.
“It’s been years, genius, here’s an idea—get over it. You could’ve had a new one by now if you’d just, ‘lock in,’ as my previous client once said,” was what he said in response. It shocked the fixer, and he didn’t know how to reply to that blunt sentiment.
When we asked about what he thinks about the amount of zero stars he gets, he only said; “Each person who left a zero star review paid me 200 for the hour. They aren’t hurting my feelings, and they definitely aren’t hurting my pockets.”
Heathcliff tilted his head, “You’re saying I have PTSD?” he asked.
Albert clicked on his pen “Yeah, from living with your abusive household when you were a, ‘wee lad’,” he explained from what he had observed, as he thought of a brilliant idea of setting up all his PTSD clients to meet up. And so, after the session had ended, they all gathered in the office together.
The first guy Heathcliff noticed was the man in black suit, “This is Roland, he also has PTSD, but from the first Distortion Phenomenon, the Pianist,” Albert introduced the man, proudly.
“…Mate, aren’t you the Black Silence?” he questioned, but was given no answer for he was staring at the wall.
Next, he eyed the chess piece in purple attire that waddled in the room, “This is Kinger, he also has PTSD, but from the circus, and the deaths of his co-workers and wife,” Albert introduced again, cheerily.
“…Oi, is that a Distortion?”
“Distort?” Kinger turned around, making the sinner back away.
Last, he saw a flashy bloke with blond hair, “This is France, he also has PTSD, but from all the days of never-ending conflict between nations,” Albert introduced for the third time, giddily.
“…Mate?”
“It is quite literally my job as a therapist to tell the truth. And, I’m afraid I also happen to be a horrible liar.”
--Trevor sighs, as his ears twitched, “I’m starting to think I’m mentally ill after hanging with my film crew for so long,” he confessed.
“No…” Krueger attempts to affirm the rabbit, “You guys? No…” his face cringed, and now he’s using his notepad to hide.
Although Dr. Krueger claims he’s only so brutal for the benefit of his clients, he does seem to enjoy making these remarks.
“I was made fun of a lot when I was a kid,” said Azul, pathetically sitting on the couch he didn’t want to be on in the first place.
“Are your bullies still involved in your life?” asked Albert, crossing his arms.
The merman looked up at him, “No, but I do know where they live.”
“So, what are you waiting for? You can definitely win the rematch.”
“…Doctor, I think I’ve given them enough payback,” he chuckled, “but perhaps I went a little overboard with some.”
The pink-eyed man raised his eyebrow, “Why did you book this session then?”
“Byakuya insisted I needed it.”
“Ah, that boy. Yeah, perhaps he needs to do a rematch with his siblings all over again.”
Maybe this guy shouldn’t be a therapist.
Kunikida showed him a picture of Dazai, “This is my co-worker. I think he might be having an affair with this port mafia executive,” he swipes to show a picture of Chuuya.
“…This? Is your co-worker? And that executive?” the CEO says in a tone that tells he knows something, “Yeah, his co-worker is no doubt, having an affair.”
