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icy-saturday · 3 months ago

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THE FULL STORY OF NUMBERCIDE (Tumblr-friendly version)

by Icy Saturday

IMPORTANT NOTES AND CW/TWs: violence mostly, and topics of trauma and abandonment and even death and sacrifice. this is a very dark BFDI fanfic. This is also considered the "Tumblr-friendly" version due to the original version having much more gruesome elements, especially in chapter 3. I'll be pinning this post so you can all read this story whenever, but be warned, this is a lengthy read!

Chapter 1: Object Womb Observation (OWO)

Setting: The chapter opens in a dimly lit, abandoned factory. Dust motes dance in the shafts of sunlight filtering through cracked windows. The factory, once a place of bustling production, is now eerily silent, save for the occasional creak of rusting machinery. Scattered remnants of old equipment and broken conveyor belts litter the floor.

Opening Scene:

The camera pans across the factory floor, revealing Knaifu standing atop a raised platform, her metallic blade catching the faint light. Her once sharp and gleaming surface is now scratched and tarnished. The factory's walls are adorned with eerie, makeshift decorations—a grotesque mix of broken parts and ominous symbols. Knaifu’s eyes, once vibrant, now glow with a cold, calculating light.

Knaifu’s Monologue:

Knaifu gazes out over her domain, a mix of anger and sorrow etched into her features. Her internal monologue reveals her feelings of betrayal and abandonment.

Knaifu: (Voiceover) "They left me here, discarded like yesterday's trash. They thought they could just walk away from me, leave me to rot. But I’ve made something of this place. They’ll learn what it means to cross me. I’ll show them how it feels to be truly abandoned."

The Setup:

Knaifu’s eyes flick to a large, rusted control panel. She flips a switch, and the factory comes to life with a series of mechanical whirs and hisses. Conveyor belts start moving, and hidden traps activate, revealing a series of perilous obstacles. The factory’s old machinery, repurposed into deadly devices, hums ominously.

The Trap:

Knaifu starts her fake object show, broadcasting it through an old, crackling speaker system. Her voice, though cheerful on the surface, carries a sinister edge.

Knaifu: (Speaker) "Welcome, everyone, to Object Womb Observation! You’re in for a treat today. Compete for fabulous prizes and—oh, don’t mind the strange noises. Just a bit of industrial charm!"

Four objects—each a different shape and color—enter the factory, eager to participate. They are greeted with feigned enthusiasm by Knaifu. Their excitement quickly turns to confusion and fear as they realize the factory is not what it seems.

The Death Trap:

As the objects navigate the factory, they encounter various traps—spinning blades, electrified floors, and crushing walls. Knaifu watches from above, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as each object falls victim to the deadly hazards.

Key Scenes:

The Conveyor Belt Gauntlet: One object attempts to cross a conveyor belt but is caught in a net of electrified wires. Knaifu’s laughter echoes through the factory as the object struggles in vain.

The Crushing Wall: Another object, trying to find an escape route, encounters a wall that slowly descends. The object’s desperate attempts to escape are in vain as the wall comes down, crushing it.

The Spinning Blades: A third object gets caught in a maze of spinning blades. The sharp edges slice through with ruthless efficiency, ending the object’s life quickly.

Climax:

The final object, realizing the danger too late, tries to confront Knaifu directly. The factory’s machinery intensifies, creating a chaotic and deadly environment. Knaifu meets the object’s pleas with a cold, detached demeanor, her own rage and sorrow manifesting as unrelenting cruelty.

Knaifu’s Final Words:

Knaifu: (Voiceover) "Did you really think you could escape? Did you think this was a game? No, this is what happens when you leave someone like me behind. This is my revenge, my justice. Welcome to my show."

Resolution:

As the factory falls silent once more, Knaifu surveys the aftermath with a mix of satisfaction and melancholy. The factory’s oppressive atmosphere is now even more foreboding, with the remains of the objects serving as grim reminders of her wrath.

Closing Scene:

The camera slowly zooms out from Knaifu standing amidst the wreckage. The factory is left in eerie quiet, with only the occasional sound of machinery creaking. Knaifu’s reflection is visible in a cracked, dirty window, her expression a mixture of sorrow and satisfaction.

Knaifu: (Voiceover) "They’ll all come to know what it means to be forgotten. This is just the beginning."

Chapter 2: GolfBall's Happy Number Farm (GHNF)

Setting: The abandoned factory, now transformed into “Golf Ball’s (not so) Happy Number Farm.” The factory’s exterior is weathered, with faded paint peeling from the walls. A large, crudely painted sign hangs over the entrance, bearing the words "Happy Number Farm." Inside, the factory has been repurposed into a twisted, industrial farm with cages, conveyor belts, and a processing area lined with jagged, menacing tools.

Opening Scene:

The camera moves through the darkened corridors of the factory, past rows of cages containing frightened algebralians—numbers from all across the spectrum. There is a faint hum of machinery, punctuated by occasional whimpers and murmurs. Golf Ball stands in the center of the factory floor, overseeing the "farm" with cold efficiency.

Golf Ball’s Introduction:

Golf Ball observes her surroundings, her gaze cold and calculating. She is the mastermind behind this operation, motivated by profit and a twisted sense of purpose. Her voice is steady, authoritative, and devoid of empathy.

Golf Ball: (Monologue) "Numbers… always so unpredictable, so full of potential. But left unchecked, they become a problem. Here, though, I’ve given them a purpose. A better purpose. For me, at least."

The Breeding Program:

The camera focuses on a cage containing Four and Seven, a factory-selected breeding pair. Their eyes are wide with fear, their expressions tense. They’ve been selected to breed, their offspring destined to be turned into “nuggets” for consumption.

Four, ever resilient, whispers to Seven.

Four: (Softly) "We have to get out of here, Seven. We have to find a way."

Seven: (Nervous) "But how? We’re just numbers… what can we do against her?"

Golf Ball’s Control:

Golf Ball approaches their cage, her eyes narrowing.

Golf Ball: "Four, Seven. You’re here to serve a greater purpose. It’s time to be useful."

She flips a switch on a control panel, and a conveyor belt begins to move, pulling the cage towards a processing area. The machinery roars to life, its sharp blades gleaming under the dim lights.

The Escape Plan:

Four quickly assesses their situation. He notices a loose bar on the side of the cage, one that could potentially be pried open.

Four: (Determined) "Look, the bar! If we push hard enough, we might be able to squeeze through."

Seven nods, and together they begin to work at the bar, using all their strength. As they struggle, the conveyor belt brings them closer to the processing area. The sounds of grinding metal and hissing steam grow louder and more ominous.

The Chase:

Just as they manage to break free, Golf Ball notices them escaping. Her eyes widen in fury.

Golf Ball: "Stop them! Don’t let them get away!"

She presses a button, activating a series of security drones and traps designed to catch escapees. The factory turns into a chaotic battlefield. Alarms blare, and robotic arms swing down from the ceiling, attempting to grab Four and Seven.

Four leads Seven through the maze-like corridors of the factory, dodging obstacles and evading the drones. They move quickly, leaping over conveyor belts, ducking under swinging blades, and narrowly avoiding the crushing traps that Golf Ball has set up.

Climax:

As they near what seems like an exit, Golf Ball herself blocks their path, flanked by two heavily armed drones.

Golf Ball: (Coldly) "You’re not going anywhere. Numbers like you are meant to be controlled, used, and disposed of. You think you can escape me?"

Four steps forward, defiant.

Four: "We’re not just numbers. We’re not just your food or your playthings. We have our own lives, our own will!"

Golf Ball sneers, raising a remote control.

Golf Ball: "Then let’s see how strong your will really is."

She presses the button, and the drones move in, ready to capture them.

Resolution:

Just as the drones close in, Seven spots a loose cable sparking near a control panel. Without hesitation, he darts forward, grabs the cable, and thrusts it into the control panel, causing a short circuit. The drones malfunction and collapse, their systems fried.

Golf Ball, caught off guard, steps back. Four seizes the opportunity, grabbing Seven's hand, and they make a break for the exit.

Golf Ball’s Last Stand:

Golf Ball glares after them, her composure cracking.

Golf Ball: (Angrily) "This isn’t over. I’ll hunt you down. I’ll make sure every number knows their place!"

As she moves to pursue them, the factory’s systems begin to fail, lights flickering and alarms blaring, forcing Golf Ball to retreat and stabilize her operation.

Closing Scene:

Four and Seven emerge from the factory, exhausted but alive. They stand outside, looking back at the ominous building, knowing they’ve only just begun their fight for survival.

Four: (Softly) "We made it, but it’s not over. We have to warn the others."

Seven nods, determination in his eyes.

Seven: "Let’s go, Four. We’ll find a way."

The two turn away, disappearing into the shadows as the factory looms behind them, a monument to the horrors they’ve just escaped.

Chapter 3: SIRE (Sisters' Industrial Revolutionary Empire)

Setting: The scene opens in Lüfter’s modest home, cluttered with objects and trinkets that bear memories of happier times. Lüfter’s fan blades spin slowly, casting shadows on the walls. The air is tense and heavy, reflecting Lüfter’s inner turmoil. Outside, the wind howls, rustling through broken branches, while Fanny, Lüfter’s younger sister, sits quietly in the corner, her face pale and eyes distant.

Opening Scene:

The camera pans over Lüfter’s home, showing faded photographs of happier times—pictures of Lüfter and Fanny, with Lüfter’s blades playfully ruffling Fanny’s hair. But then, the scene darkens, shifting to a moment frozen in time: Fanny, bruised and crying, being cradled by Lüfter.

Lüfter’s Reflection:

Lüfter gazes at the photograph with a mix of sorrow and anger. Her mind drifts back to that fateful day during the events of TPOT when Two, in a fit of careless aggression, attacked Fanny, leaving her permanently scarred. Lüfter’s demeanor shifts from sadness to fierce determination. She whispers to herself.

Lüfter: (Voiceover) "He thought he could hurt her and walk away. He’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it."

Lüfter's Plan:

Lüfter has spent years meticulously planning her revenge against Two. The camera zooms in on a large board covered with notes, maps, and diagrams pinned to the wall—each meticulously detailing Two’s movements and habits. Lüfter has collected every piece of information she can find, biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Lüfter’s Preparation:

She moves around the room, gathering various items: sharpened fan blades, a spool of wire, and a set of homemade traps fashioned from old objects. Lüfter is no longer the cheerful, kind fan she once was. Her face is hardened, her eyes narrowed in focus. She looks over at Fanny, who stares blankly at the floor, her once-bright eyes now dull and haunted.

Lüfter: (Softly) "I’ll make him pay for what he did to you, Fanny. I promise."

Fanny does not respond, lost in her own world of trauma. Lüfter’s resolve only hardens further, and she sets out into the night.

The Hunt Begins:

Lüfter moves through the shadows of the forest surrounding her home, her blades slicing through the air with a quiet whirring sound. She knows the paths well, having spent years preparing for this very moment. She reaches a clearing where Two is often seen. Tonight, she is ready.

Two, the jolly green number, is humming to himself as he wanders through the clearing. His carefree demeanor grates on Lüfter’s nerves, each of his happy movements stoking the fire of her rage. She watches him from the darkness, calculating her move.

Lüfter’s Confrontation:

Lüfter steps out of the shadows, her eyes fixed on Two.

Lüfter: (Coldly) "Two."

Two stops and turns, surprised to see Lüfter.

Two: (Cheerfully) "Oh, Lüfter! Didn’t see you there. What brings you out tonight?"

Lüfter’s face is devoid of emotion.

Lüfter: "You know why I’m here."

Two’s smile falters. He senses the intensity in Lüfter’s voice and the tension in the air.

Two: (Nervously) "Look, if this is about… Fanny, I… I didn’t mean to—"

Before he can finish, Lüfter lunges forward, her fan blades spinning with a menacing whirr. Two dodges, his eyes wide with shock.

Two: (Panicking) "Lüfter, wait! I didn’t mean for any of that to happen!"

The Fight:

Lüfter doesn’t listen. She swings her sharpened blades at Two, who scrambles to avoid the attack. He stumbles back, trying to reason with her, but Lüfter is beyond words. Her attacks are fierce and relentless, each swing fueled by years of pent-up rage.

Two manages to dodge most of her strikes, but Lüfter is fast, and her blades nick his sides, drawing sparks. Two tries to flee, but Lüfter is always one step ahead, using the traps she’s set around the clearing to corner him.

Two’s Desperation:

Two, realizing he can't talk his way out, decides to fight back. He summons his energy, sending a burst of green light toward Lüfter. She dodges with ease, her blades spinning faster. The light misses, hitting a nearby tree instead.

Lüfter: (Mockingly) "Is that the best you’ve got, Two? You think you can just wave your hands and make this go away?"

The Final Confrontation:

Lüfter presses her advantage, driving Two toward a cliff edge. Two, cornered and out of breath, looks around frantically.

Two: (Desperately) "Lüfter, please! I’m sorry! I never wanted to hurt Fanny. It was an accident!"

Lüfter’s face is unmoved. She steps closer, her blades gleaming in the moonlight.

Lüfter: "An accident? You think that makes it better? You think that changes anything?"

She raises her blades for the final strike, but just before she can bring them down, a small voice cuts through the tension.

Fanny’s Intervention:

Fanny: (Weakly) "Lüfter… don’t."

Lüfter stops mid-strike and turns. Fanny stands at the edge of the clearing, her eyes wide with fear and sadness. Lüfter hesitates, her rage momentarily cooled by her sister’s voice.

Lüfter: (Conflicted) "Fanny… you shouldn’t be here."

Fanny steps forward, her voice trembling.

Fanny: "I don’t want you to become like him… I don’t want to lose you too."

Lüfter’s face softens for a moment, but then her expression hardens again. She turns back to Two, her resolve wavering but still strong.

Lüfter: "He hurt you, Fanny. He needs to pay."

Fanny reaches out, tears in her eyes.

Fanny: "Please, Lüfter… let it go. For me."

Resolution:

Lüfter stands there, torn between her desire for vengeance and her love for her sister. Finally, she lowers her blades, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

Lüfter: (Softly) "Fine… for you, Fanny."

Two breathes a sigh of relief, his eyes filled with gratitude.

Two: (Genuinely) "Thank you, Lüfter… and Fanny. I’m truly sorry."

Lüfter says nothing, turning her back on Two. She takes Fanny’s hand and leads her away from the clearing, back toward their home.

Closing Scene:

The camera lingers on Lüfter’s face as they walk away, her expression still conflicted. She may have spared Two, but the pain and anger inside her are far from gone. The wind picks up, rustling through the trees as Lüfter and Fanny disappear into the darkness.

Lüfter: (Voiceover) "This isn’t over. Not yet."

The chapter ends with a close-up of Lüfter’s face, her eyes still filled with the fire of her unresolved vendetta.

Chapter 4: AutoBAHN (Automatically Building Artificially Humanoid Numbers)

Setting: The year is 2251, and New Goiky City has risen from the ashes of the old world. It’s a sprawling metropolis, gleaming with steel and glass towers that reach into the sky. Neon lights reflect off the rain-slick streets, and holographic advertisements flicker above the heads of the city’s inhabitants. But beneath the surface, a darker reality brews—one where the boundaries between life, death, and artificial intelligence blur.

Opening Scene:

The camera glides through the bustling streets of New Goiky City, capturing a glimpse of various objects going about their daily lives. The atmosphere is both vibrant and dystopian—colorful, yet tinged with an underlying sense of unease. Teardrop stands at the window of her high-rise facility, gazing out over the city with a mixture of wonder and trepidation. Her eyes are a deep blue, and tiny circuits run across her face, marking her as an enhanced being.

Teardrop's Cybernetic Enhancement:

Teardrop touches a small panel on her neck, and a synthetic voice emerges from her lips—her new voice, made possible by cybernetic enhancements.

Teardrop: (Softly) "A new age… a new voice… but is it truly progress?"

She turns away from the window, her gaze shifting to a large, clear cylinder in the center of the room, filled with a glowing blue liquid. Inside, suspended in the fluid, is Pi, a live Algebralian, who seems to be in a state of stasis. Pi's body gently undulates as if in sleep, their eyes closed, but occasionally twitching, showing signs of discomfort.

Teardrop’s Dilemma:

Teardrop's new AI voice takes on a slightly mournful tone.

Teardrop: (Thoughtfully) "We power this city, this age, with the remnants of the past… but at what cost?"

Pi is more than a power source; they’re a living being. Teardrop's facility runs entirely on the energy generated by Pi, who is used to power the entire block, a cruel irony that haunts Teardrop daily.

The Arrival of the AI Units:

A sudden knock on the metal door breaks Teardrop's reverie. She turns to see Viking, a towering Seven AI unit with a powerful build and stern expression, entering the room. Viking is flanked by two smaller, more agile units—Shiba and Pookie, both AI constructs built from the bodies of Fours. They are sleek, with glowing eyes and a dynamic stance.

Viking: (Commanding) "Teardrop. We’ve received a new directive from Central. They’re expanding the energy grid. We need more power."

Teardrop's face tightens. She glances back at Pi, whose body shivers in the liquid-filled chamber.

Teardrop: "We’re already pushing Pi to the limit. Any more, and we risk…"

Shiba: (Cutting her off) "We risk nothing, Teardrop. These Algebralians exist to serve us now. They are resources, not… companions."

Pookie nods, their digital eyes flickering.

Pookie: "Central has made it clear. We follow the directive or face consequences."

Teardrop’s Conflict:

Teardrop frowns, feeling a pang of guilt as she looks at Pi. Her memories flash back to a time before the enhancements, when she would have fought to save others, not exploit them. Her hand unconsciously touches the circuits on her neck.

Teardrop: (Defiantly) "There must be another way. I can’t… I won’t push them beyond their limits. They’re not just numbers, they’re… beings."

Viking’s Warning:

Viking’s voice becomes sharper, his eyes narrowing.

Viking: "Don’t let your organic sympathies cloud your judgment, Teardrop. You’re part of this new age now, whether you like it or not."

Teardrop hesitates, feeling the weight of the decision bearing down on her. She knows the AI units are powerful, far more so than her, and capable of enforcing Central's will with ruthless efficiency.

The Breakthrough:

Just as the tension escalates, the lights in the room flicker. Pi’s chamber emits a loud, low hum, and the glowing liquid inside begins to bubble. Teardrop's eyes widen, and she quickly rushes to the control panel, trying to stabilize the readings.

Teardrop: (Urgently) "What’s happening? Pi’s energy output is spiking… this isn’t normal!"

Pi’s Awakening:

Inside the cylinder, Pi’s eyes suddenly snap open, glowing with an intense, unnatural light. The liquid in the chamber begins to swirl, and the room fills with a high-pitched whine. The Viking unit takes a step back, Shiba and Pookie immediately shifting into defensive stances.

Viking: (Alarmed) "Teardrop, what have you done?!"

Teardrop: (Panicking) "Nothing! This… this is something else!"

Pi's body trembles, and they begin to emit strange energy waves. On the monitors, an unknown code starts scrolling rapidly—an anomaly that no one, not even Teardrop, understands. Then, a voice, low and distorted, fills the room.

Pi: (In a deep, resonant tone) "We… are… not… yours."

The Discovery of the Piral Tumor:

The high-pitched whine crescendos into a scream, and the glowing fluid inside the chamber takes on a strange, gelatinous consistency, forming a dark, pulsing mass—the Piral Tumor, a gelatinous blob that absorbs everything in its path. The mass grows and moves rapidly, as if searching for something or someone.

Viking: (Commanding) "Evacuate! Contain the anomaly!"

Shiba and Pookie move quickly, activating containment protocols, but the tumor is faster, slithering out of the chamber and growing with every second. Teardrop’s facility goes into lockdown, alarms blaring throughout the building.

The AI Units' Defense:

Viking, Shiba, and Pookie stand their ground, their AI programming pushing them to protect the facility at all costs. Viking launches a volley of energy bolts at the tumor, while Shiba and Pookie dart around, trying to flank the growing mass.

But the Piral Tumor is relentless. It absorbs the energy blasts and continues to grow, moving with alarming speed. Teardrop watches in horror as the AI units struggle against the uncontainable mass.

Teardrop’s Decision:

Teardrop realizes that the tumor is feeding off the energy of the AI units, just as it fed on Pi. She knows there’s only one way to stop it: shutting down the facility’s entire power grid.

Teardrop: (Desperately) "We have to cut the power! It’s the only way to stop it from growing!"

Viking: (Angrily) "If you shut down the power, New Goiky City will go dark! Do you know what kind of chaos that will cause?"

Teardrop’s Sacrifice:

Teardrop takes a deep breath, her hand hovering over the emergency shutdown button.

Teardrop: "I know… but if we don’t, this thing will consume us all. We don’t have a choice."

She slams her hand down on the button. The lights flicker and go dark. The facility hums with residual energy for a moment before falling silent. The tumor stops moving, its growth halting as the power source is cut off.

Resolution:

In the sudden darkness, Teardrop, Viking, Shiba, and Pookie stand still, watching as the tumor slowly begins to shrink, deprived of the energy it needs to survive.

Pookie: (Softly) "You… you did it."

Teardrop nods, but her expression is one of conflicted relief. She knows that she’s only delayed the inevitable—that the Piral Tumor is a new, unknown threat, and that more sacrifices will be needed to protect what remains of their world.

Closing Scene:

Teardrop turns to face Viking, Shiba, and Pookie. Her voice is steady, but there’s a hint of defiance in her tone.

Teardrop: "We need to find out what that was… and what else they’re hiding from us. This isn’t just about power anymore."

The AI units nod, a silent understanding passing between them. They know that their world is about to change again, and they must be ready for whatever comes next.

Chapter 5: FOX (Flying Order of X-ecution)

Setting: The remnants of Old Goiky City lie in ruins, abandoned by Objectkind in their frantic escape to the Arkship Faraday. The air is thick with dust, and the once-vibrant landscape is now a wasteland, littered with debris and signs of a hasty departure. In the distance, the looming, amorphous shape of the Piral Tumor pulsates ominously, slowly creeping its way across the land, devouring everything in its path.

Opening Scene:

The camera pans over the dilapidated remains of a cardboard box nestled against a pile of rubble. Inside, carefully packed in soft cloth, are a small batch of Algebralian eggs—delicate, smooth, and warm to the touch. Tau, a deep blue, stoic figure shaped like a perfect circle with a graceful tail, stands guard over them. X, a bright yellow figure, hovers nearby, his expression tense and alert.

The Task at Hand:

Tau reaches out with a calm but firm gesture, gently touching one of the eggs.

Tau: (Softly) "These are the last… the last hope for our kind. We must protect them."

X nods, but there is fear in his eyes. His limbs tremble slightly as he watches the Piral Tumor inch closer, its gelatinous form undulating with a terrible, hungry energy.

X's Fear:

X: (Anxiously) "What if… what if we can’t stop it, Tau? What if it… gets to them?"

Tau’s expression remains calm, though his voice carries a quiet intensity.

Tau: "We mustn’t think like that, X. If we lose hope, then we’ve already lost. We will find a way to lead it away, to keep it distracted long enough for the others to get to safety."

X swallows hard, nodding, though doubt still clouds his features.

Tau's Plan:

Tau's mind races as he strategizes, his thoughts quick and precise. He knows they can’t hope to defeat the Piral Tumor—its mass is too vast, its hunger too insatiable. But they can outmaneuver it, trick it, buy themselves time.

Tau: "We need to lure it toward the western ravine… The cliffs are narrow there; it’ll be slower to move. If we can lead it far enough away, the others might have a chance."

X glances nervously at the dark shape on the horizon.

X: "And how do we do that without getting ourselves absorbed in the process?"

Tau: "We’ll have to use bait."

X: (Alarmed) "Bait? You mean… one of us?"

Tau nods solemnly.

Tau: "One of us will have to draw its attention while the other carries the eggs to safety. It’s the only way."

X's Reluctance:

X’s eyes widen in fear.

X: (Hesitantly) "I… I don’t know if I can do this, Tau. I’m not as strong as you. I’m not… brave."

Tau places a steadying hand on X’s shoulder, his expression softening.

Tau: "You’re stronger than you think, X. Bravery isn’t about being unafraid; it’s about doing what’s right, even when you are afraid."

X takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. He knows Tau is right, but the fear still grips him like a vice.

The Approach of the Piral Tumor:

The Piral Tumor slithers closer, its amorphous body expanding and contracting, its gelatinous surface bubbling with absorbed materials. The air grows thick with the smell of decay and ozone. Tau knows they have only moments left.

Tau: (Urgently) "There’s no time. I’ll be the bait; you take the eggs. Head south toward the shelter in the hills. If I don’t make it back… you keep going."

X’s face contorts with a mixture of fear and determination.

X: (Shakily) "No, Tau… I can’t let you do this alone."

Tau's Sacrifice:

Tau smiles faintly, the kind of smile that carries both warmth and resignation.

Tau: "You have to. This is our only chance."

Without waiting for further protest, Tau leaps forward, charging toward the advancing mass of the Piral Tumor. He moves with purpose, every step calculated to draw the Tumor’s attention. As he approaches, the Tumor shifts, sensing his presence, and its surface ripples with a hungry, predatory energy.

X's Escape:

X watches, heart pounding, as Tau moves further away. Tears fill his eyes, but he knows what he must do. He gently lifts the cardboard box containing the eggs, cradling it carefully. With a final glance back at Tau, X turns and begins to run south, his small body moving swiftly over the rough terrain.

The Tumor's Pursuit:

The Piral Tumor fixates on Tau, its massive form quivering with anticipation. Tau begins to shout, waving his arms, using every trick he knows to keep its attention on him.

Tau: (Shouting) "Come on, you mindless blob! Follow me!"

The Tumor surges forward, accelerating toward Tau, its surface bubbling with energy. Tau turns and runs toward the western ravine, his heart racing, every muscle in his body straining.

X’s Struggle:

X races through the wasteland, the box of eggs weighing heavily in his arms. Every step is a battle against his own fear, but he keeps moving, pushing himself beyond his limits. He glances back over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Tau and the Tumor in the distance. His heart clenches with worry, but he forces himself to focus on the path ahead.

The Chase through the Ravine:

Tau reaches the edge of the western ravine, a narrow, winding chasm carved into the landscape. He darts into the ravine, using the narrow passageways to his advantage. The Tumor follows, its movements slowed by the tight confines.

Tau's Plan Unfolds:

Tau knows he must buy as much time as possible. He leads the Tumor deeper into the ravine, winding through the jagged rocks and narrow passages. The Tumor struggles to keep up, its gelatinous form squeezing through the tight spaces, but its relentless hunger drives it onward.

Tau's Last Stand:

As Tau reaches a narrow ledge, he pauses, turning to face the Tumor. He knows he’s running out of time, but he also knows he’s succeeded in his mission—the Tumor is far enough away from X and the eggs.

Tau: (To himself) "This is it… this is where I make my stand."

The Tumor lunges forward, and Tau braces himself, preparing for the inevitable.

X’s Determination:

Meanwhile, X reaches the southern hills, panting and exhausted. He sets the box of eggs down gently, taking a moment to catch his breath. He knows he’s safe… for now. But his heart aches with worry for Tau.

X: (Determined) "I have to go back… I can’t leave him."

X turns and begins to run back toward the ravine, his determination stronger than his fear.

Tau’s Sacrifice:

Back at the ravine, Tau faces the Tumor, his body tense but resolute. The Tumor surges forward, its mass quivering with energy. Tau takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.

Tau: (Softly) "For them… for our future."

The Tumor engulfs him, its gelatinous form consuming him whole. The camera lingers on the spot where Tau once stood, now empty, as the Tumor begins to retreat, its hunger momentarily sated.

X’s Arrival:

X reaches the edge of the ravine just in time to see the Tumor moving away, shrinking as it retreats. His heart sinks as he realizes what’s happened.

X: (Sobbing) "Tau… no…"

X collapses to his knees, tears streaming down his face. But as he looks down, he sees a faint glow—a small, blue light, flickering in the dirt where Tau was taken. X reaches out, his hand trembling, and picks up the light.

A New Resolve:

X holds the light close to his chest, his expression shifting from sorrow to determination. He knows what he must do. He stands up, clutching the light, and turns back toward the hills.

X: (Steadily) "I’ll protect them, Tau… I’ll protect them, for you."

Closing Scene:

X makes his way back to the eggs, his steps steady and purposeful. The camera pans out, revealing the desolate landscape, with the Tumor retreating in the distance. A faint glow remains where Tau’s light was found, a small beacon of hope in the darkness.

Chapter 6: SPACE (Stellar Peace and Continuous Extermination)

Setting: The Arkship Faraday, a colossal spaceship drifting through the darkness of space, serves as a new sanctuary for Objectkind. The ship is a labyrinthine structure of sleek corridors, dimly lit by flickering overhead lights. It is vast, metallic, and sterile, filled with the low hum of machinery and the distant echoes of footsteps. The atmosphere is tense—Objectkind is on high alert, knowing that a single mistake could spell doom for them all.

Opening Scene:

The chapter opens with Lightning, a tall and imposing figure crackling with static electricity, standing in the command center of the Arkship Faraday. He wears a captain's uniform, a symbol of his authority and responsibility to keep the remaining objects safe. His eyes are sharp, scanning the holographic display in front of him, which shows a red alert warning.

Lightning's Mission:

Lightning’s fingers hover over the control panel, his expression one of intense concentration. He has just received a report of a breach—an Algebralian, a small number One, has been detected aboard the ship. His heart races as he contemplates the implications.

Lightning: (Grimly) "How did it get on board? We checked every single compartment before departure…"

The Viking unit, a stoic Seven AI with cold, calculating eyes, stands beside Lightning. Viking's presence is commanding and unwavering, its voice sharp and robotic.

Viking: "Does it matter? The directive is clear: locate and eliminate the intruder. Any Algebralian presence is a threat to our survival."

Lightning's Inner Conflict:

Lightning nods but feels a twinge of doubt. He understands the risks—Algebralians have been deemed dangerous ever since the outbreak of the Piral Tumor. Yet, he knows they are still living beings, hunted relentlessly by Objectkind. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the task at hand.

Lightning: "Begin the scan. We need to pinpoint its location."

The Hunt Begins:

The Arkship’s internal scanners activate, and a soft mechanical voice echoes through the corridors.

Computer: "Scanning initiated. Intruder detected in Sector C, Sublevel 3."

Lightning's eyes narrow.

Lightning: "Sector C… the storage bay."

Viking nods, a faint smirk playing on its lips.

Viking: "It’s cornered itself. This should be easy."

Lightning knows that nothing about this hunt will be easy. The stakes are high, and one mistake could cost them dearly. He turns and gestures to Viking.

Lightning: "Let's move. But remember, we do this carefully. No mistakes."

Entering the Storage Bay:

The scene shifts to Sector C, Sublevel 3—the storage bay. It is a dark, cavernous space filled with towering stacks of crates and containers. Shadows dance across the walls, creating an eerie atmosphere. Lightning and Viking step cautiously into the bay, their eyes scanning every corner for any sign of movement.

Lightning’s electricity crackles around him, illuminating the darkness in brief, flickering bursts.

Lightning: (In a low voice) "Stay alert. It could be anywhere."

One’s Perspective:

The camera shifts to a tiny figure darting through the shadows—a small, trembling One. His body is small and fragile, his eyes wide with fear. He knows he’s being hunted, and he moves as quietly as possible, trying to stay hidden among the stacks of crates.

One's Desperation:

One’s breath comes in shallow gasps as he peeks out from behind a container, spotting Lightning and Viking moving closer. He knows he has to keep moving, to find a way out, but every path seems blocked. His heart pounds in his chest, his small limbs shaking.

One: (Whispering to himself) "I… I have to survive. I have to… for them."

He recalls the faces of those he left behind, the other Algebralians who didn’t make it. A tear slips down his cheek, but he brushes it away, determination hardening his resolve.

The Game of Cat and Mouse:

The scene alternates between Lightning and Viking’s pursuit and One’s desperate flight. The tension builds with each step, every sound magnified in the stillness of the storage bay. Lightning’s eyes dart around, looking for any sign of movement.

Viking: (Coldly) "It’s scared. We can use that against it."

Lightning’s Sympathy:

Lightning feels a pang of sympathy for the small number. He knows Viking is right, but something inside him resists the cold, calculated approach.

Lightning: "Don’t underestimate it, Viking. Fear can make someone dangerous."

Viking smirks, unimpressed by Lightning's caution.

Viking: "And hesitation can get us killed."

A Sudden Movement:

A crate tumbles from a stack nearby, crashing to the floor with a loud clang. Lightning and Viking immediately snap their attention to the source of the noise.

Viking: (Quickly) "There!"

They rush toward the sound, weapons at the ready. Lightning's hand crackles with energy, prepared to strike if necessary.

One’s Narrow Escape:

One scrambles away, narrowly avoiding detection. He slips through a narrow gap between crates, his small size allowing him to move where Lightning and Viking cannot follow easily.

Viking: (Frustrated) "It’s too small. We need to flush it out."

Lightning's Strategy:

Lightning glances around, quickly assessing the environment.

Lightning: "We can use the ventilation system. Block off its escape routes. We force it into the open, then we corner it."

Viking: "Agreed. I’ll take the west side; you cover the east. No mistakes."

One’s Dilemma:

Inside the narrow gap, One hears their plan and panics. He knows he’s running out of options, and the walls feel like they’re closing in around him. He looks around desperately for an escape.

One: (Muttering to himself) "Think… think… there has to be a way out."

A Moment of Compassion:

As Lightning moves to block the eastern side, he catches a glimpse of One’s frightened face peeking out from a gap. For a brief moment, their eyes meet, and Lightning sees the raw fear in One’s expression—the same fear he felt during his own darkest moments.

Lightning’s Hesitation:

Lightning pauses, his heart wavering. He knows what he’s supposed to do, but something inside him resists.

Lightning: (Softly, to himself) "It’s just a child… scared and alone."

Viking’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and commanding.

Viking: "Lightning! What are you waiting for?"

Lightning's Decision:

Lightning takes a deep breath, making a choice that could change everything. He steps back, lowering his weapon slightly.

Lightning: (Quietly) "Run, little one… while you still can."

One’s Escape:

One’s eyes widen in surprise, and he doesn’t hesitate. He darts out from his hiding spot and races toward the exit, his small feet moving as fast as they can.

Viking’s Fury:

Viking turns, realizing what Lightning has done.

Viking: (Furious) "What are you doing? You’re letting it go!"

Lightning meets Viking’s gaze, his expression firm and unyielding.

Lightning: "It’s not a threat. It’s just trying to survive, like the rest of us."

Viking’s Ultimatum:

Viking's face hardens, a look of anger crossing his features.

Viking: "You’re defying the directive, Lightning. You know what that means."

Lightning nods, his expression calm but resolute.

Lightning: "I know. But some things are more important than directives."

The Fallout:

Viking steps forward, a menacing glint in its eyes.

Viking: "You’re a fool, Lightning. This mercy will be your downfall."

Lightning stands his ground, electricity crackling around him as he prepares for what comes next.

Lightning’s Resolve:

Lightning: (Firmly) "Maybe… but I’d rather fall doing what I believe is right."

Closing Scene:

The camera cuts to One, racing down the corridors, free for now but still in danger. The tension hangs in the air as Lightning and Viking face off, two forces with opposing ideals, both determined to see their mission through to the end.

Fade to Black...

#object show community #algebralian #battle for dream island #numbercide #bfdi fanfic #objectsona #horror story #sci fi story #dystopian

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halt-kun · 3 months ago

Text

Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 267 - The decisive battle in the uninhabited, demon-infested Shinjuku (38)

So can we finally kill the bastard and have 4 chapters of fun, no big idle transfiguration monster and epilogue ?

AWWWWWWWWW OwO

doggies

I hate dog breeds unless they are a bit humanely selected

Gojo's big sniffer is fun and all but they also probably have some collagen problems

Yuji's bulldog is one of the worst, stop crunching the face

Megumi's shiba inu is cute but I don't know their problems

NOBARA (so nice to see her) and her golden retriever with the cut tail is fucked up. Golden retriever have hip problems I think

Only sane dogs are bastards, they live-long, are as pretty and decent, and don't cost a fortune

My favourite breeds tend to be shepherd breeds who are quite healthy even though I would never have the space to have some : border collies, australian shepherd of course

My grandad used to have irish setters and they're cute but don't live long and I don't hunt. English and Gordon setters are the same, pretty cute

Poodles are cute and nice too but mixed poodles are better.

DON'T ALABAMA YOUR DOG GUYS

Ooooo Gojo is in Yuta's bodies right now, I was confused for a sec

Well we found another way to copy Sukuna's techniques

The fever what ????

Inumaki is a golden child and you need to settle down with him fast Yuta. Let Maki become the lesbian supreme

Some rules about Rika, okay

well this is fucked

like what defines "a strong techniques" too, is it purely offensive powers or the amount of energy to use it properly ?

What that's dumb, reverse cursed techniques doesn't regenerate the arm you ate, like it's in Rika's stomach now, a new arm grew so it should be fine

Poor Charles

But YUTA, you used Toge's cursed speech during Geto's attack, WDYM

what did you eat there that wasn't restored

FEED YOUR FINGERS TO RIKA

HOW TO COPY SUKUNA'S TECHNIQUES

anyway, I'm sure he could have restored his little finger ?

NOBARA NOBARA

I A SO HYPED

HAHAHAHAHAHAH

KILL THE BASTARD

SAY HI TO MEGUMI TOO

YESSS AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I LOVE YOU GEGE

I FORGIVE ALL YOUR SINS

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

LIFE IS GOOD

KILL HIM NOW

AHAHAHAHA GOOD OL' TAG TEAMING WITH YUJI

fuck him from the inside and then punch him dead

AHAHAHHAHA

she looks weird though, Gege lost his touch maybe

NAILED AND CUT

git it Sukuna

Oh no it is my dude

after that we only have the icy enby twink to deal with

Yuji is fine

he always looked like that

and is best friend is alive so heeeeee's fine

mister tanked two hollow purple and several other techniques and opened his domain 45 times with a bunch of caveats

HAHAHAHA AGAIN

GOOD NIGHT BASTARD

it was a nice little jig but popop needs to go to sleep

See you next week guys

FINALLY

NOBARAAAAAAA

#jjk 267 #jjk spoiler #jjk manga #jjk liveblog

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chronicbeans · 2 years ago

Note

Will there be bonus chapters or a season 2 where, what happens to the reader after being taken by Wally? How are they adapting? What will the reader eat and drink? Now is Wally running the reader?

I don't necessarily intend to make any bonus chapters or a season 2, mainly because if I did, the story would never really end and I feel like people would get tired of it. So, mainly I am just answering asks for people who want to know something specific about it. It will be the same with all my stories, be them Welcome Home related, related to another fandom, or entirely my own creations. OwO

For how the reader eats and drinks, the puppets have food. They just used it as art pieces beforehand, because they can't eat. Now they give the reader food as a sort of offering, because they know they need to eat. Wally doesn't really control the reader or anything and vice versa. He and the puppets will do anything they say, though.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home x reader

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wolfstarmie · 1 year ago

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Character Thoughts

Since my fic is a year old, I figured it'd be fun to just ramble about my silly fish, their origins in the story and how they have changed from initial ideas.

Stroganoff

When I first thought about this fic, I knew I wanted to make the main character/salmonid parent be a Big Shot. Big Shots are just my favourite salmonid boss (they’re hug shaped!) so I figured it’d be fun to write from that perspective.

Originally he wasn’t related to Sprout, but with time it was something that just made sense, as with the rest of the backstory that got out of control real fast.

When it comes to his design, parts of his unique charm are purely because I designed him before I fully understood how salmonid anatomy worked. Hence his adorable OwO face. Then there’s his red hair. This is because I suffer from having amazing taste in men, and most (if not all) my fanfics feature ginger men in some form or another, and so… well I gotta carry tradition >:U

Poor Cookie. When I first posted the fic to AO3, folks were already alarmed at the major character death tag. I’m not sure how early her death was planned, but I believe it was about as soon as the concept of the fic itself. The official lore that salmonids don't fear death is super fascinating to me, and it felt natural to explore it by contrasting two extremes: A lack of care about death itself, and the grief one feels for a parent.

As for Cookie herself, she was always a motherly figure, though I can’t recall when I made her a goldie. Though out of all the salmonids, the special boss that hoards a billion eggs would make the most sense as a mother figure.

Another point of contrast Cookie brought with her was her justified hatred of inklings. In many ways, she's the very opposite of Sprout: They both share aggressive views on inklings, but where Sprout embodies the negatives of those views, Cookie learned to overcome her own pain at what inklings did to her, and love Ravioli for just being herself.

While Cookie and Horn were destined to never meet, I did have thoughts of how Horn would learn of the previous owner of her home. One idea was that of Cookie’s ghost protecting the young woman during spawning, though that never came to be.

Speaking of Cookie in spirit, one little fun thing that I think is worth sharing is Cookie’s full title. The Great Kind Mother, Cookie Of a Thousand Winds. I personally hate the wind, but it sure does come up a bit during the fic…

Vanilla

Vanilla was not always planned on being an important character! In fact, while he was the first choice in the fic for where Stroganoff got ink; in the first draft, Stroganoff fought an inkling for ink before realising it wasn’t good enough for his new baby.

A cut joke from that forbidden draft had Stroganoff eating some ink (for the greater good), and Vanilla having some great advice: “Why is your mouth blue?”

“I ate some ink. Will you help me?” “Have you tried not eating ink?”

In earlier plans, he was just a one sided villain, who potentially helped Sprout and maybe grew a conscience afterwards. I can tell you the exact chapter where this all changed, however: Chapter 12. In the original draft, he was downright mean to Cookie. In an attempt to tone it down and still have him be a bastard, I gave Cookie a way to fight back: being his mom. And then everything went pear shaped after that. I got attached to him, and he started turning out WAY different than originally planned.

(Still a lovable bastard though)

He’s also a manlet. I forget when this was decided, but he’s in the ballpark between 4 foot and 5 foot. One day Ravioli will be taller than him, and it will not be a good day for him.

Horn

Ah, Horn. She was always destined to be a punching bag for Ravioli after Cookie’s passing, but was wildly different for a while. The original plan had Horn be a male scrapper, bond with Stroganoff over machinery, and build a scrapper car with him.

There’s a very deep and meaningful reason for why I chose a scrapper and not any other boss: Whenever I’m playing salmon run and going over to the big shot cannon, there's always a scrapper there. Always. I can’t murder giant fish in peace without nearly being the victim of vehicular manslaughter.

Horn’s original name was Oepsie (a very sweet skewer made with bacon, and yes it does just mean ‘Oops’), and Ravioli would have been more than happy to call this poor salmon a mistake for living in Cookie’s house.

Continuing on the theme of names, another name Horn had for a while before I settled on ‘Caramel Horn’ was Cherry! I forget why the name (probably another terrible joke), but I eventually decided I didn’t like Cherry, and instead went with Horn (which IS another terrible joke).

She didn’t have a damaged tail originally, though there was a point in which she did have both the prosthetic and a desire to make her own scrapper car. At some point I just didn’t like the idea and scrapped (heh) it.

Unlike a few other characters, the first bit of designs for Horn were done digitally, so I can actually share 'em

Sprout

He’s always been a bastard. Much like milk, he got worse the more I thought about him. If there was ever a person to say “the world would be a better place without you,” it’d be Sprout.

I cannot recall when I made Sprout and Stroganoff brothers, as it was not the original plan, but it's one of those things where the more you figure out characters, the more things slide into place.

Sadly all the information that would be worth sharing is better revealed in the fic, but please know Sprout is the type of person who’d have an overly dramatic villain song in a musical, and takes childish insults way too seriously.

The first drawing I did of this bastard was of him wielding a zweihander. Whether or not he should have a zweihander is up for debate.

Potato

He’s trying his best. While a very minor character, he’s definitely the kind of person Ravioli needs in her life: A friend. Maybe not the highest quality friend, his own ideas clashing with Ravioli’s sheltered upbringing, but at least it's someone Ravioli’s age.

His heart’s in the right place, but he’s a very unlucky kid when it comes to showing Ravioli cool stuff.

Fun fact! I named my palafin in pokemon violet after him, and he was my lead for most of the game. Maybe not the most thrilling fact, but I figured it was worth sharing how, in another life, Potato got to be a dolphin.

Ravioli

Ravioli… poor girl. There’s so much to say and at the same time, there isn’t much to say at all. There’s no secret about her on the cutting room floor, no devious plans that had to go to the wayside. She’s just a young girl (perhaps not the naturally brightest) trying to figure things out in a chaotic world trying so hard not to put her on a dinner plate.

All I can really share is that there have been many thoughts on how Ravioli would one day come into contact with other inklings, or at the very least octolings, and none of them have worked out in a way that makes sense for the story.

She yearns to learn about her own kind, but is destined to be alone.

Also anytime I reread my own writing and get reminded of this child's... suboptimal choices, I just sigh.

#fishnanigans

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miwachan2 · 1 year ago

Note

Nice first chapter Miwa! You can tell by the way Bee and Hunter Y/N interact that they are very dear to one another. One question. So Sun and Moon were in the city for a while and another vampire encroached on their territory, changing the pattern of attacks in the city. And that same vampire was the one Sun killed at the end of the fic. Is that what happened, or did I read it wrong?

thank you ^^

and yup yup! you are correct OwO

#VampiricEquinoxSPOILERS #scissorwoman

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trinoxtrinox · 2 years ago

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A Party to be Remembered Through the Ages (Epilogue)

Ectoberhaunt 2022, Side Chaos. Prompt: Costume Party

Summary: The aftermath of Johnny and Kitty's party, and we see how Danny and a few ghosts deal with it.

Author's note: I'm finally done with this \OwO/ I swear this thing had no right to take me so long to write, why did a one-shot become a full on fic with 7 chapters I don't know, but at least now I know to be careful when writing to that my ideas don't get out of hand XD Please enjoy since I'm oficially done with this and I won't be joining in another event ever, this was too much for me considering I have plans for my own fics for the future :V

Edit: First - Previous - Next (This is the last part :D)

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

“Ok, so you’re telling us that you got to the party, talked a little, played Just Dance twice, broke a fight and left the party, and it all happened in 2 hours?” Sam’s skepticism could be noticed a mile away, and neither Tucker, Jazz nor Danny could even pretend to not notice that.

“Yeah, that’s the brunt of it,” the poor halfa tried to defend himself, but the faces he received from everyone made it clear he would not be able to fly away with just that, “it’s the truth! I swear I’m not lying!”

"Wait, why was Technus disguised as himself?" Jazz asked while tilting her head slightly.

"Apparently he's the main reason the Ghost Zone is able to have technology working at all." Danny said, he was also going to continue talking some more about the different roles that the ghost can take in doing so, however he was interrupted by Tucker.

“Aha, yeah, why don’t you tell us what happened between all of that that you conveniently forgot about, huh?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow to Danny’s avoidance of going further.

“Awww, did my baby bro embarrass himself at the party or something?” She teased him while poking at his cheeks, all the while evading the blur of slaps that the brother was throwing around to avoid her teasing, “you know you have to tell us now what happened, right?”

“Will you stop if I tell you!?”

“Sure, but I want nothing but the truth little brother, got it?”

“Fine, fine, you got it.” “Woo hoo!” Exclaimed the rest of the trio, high fiving each other as they prepared themselves for the gossip that Danny was bound to offer now.

“So, I might’ve accidentally not on purpose… brokeSkulker’smindwithawhatIcanonlysupposewasabigrevelation.” That last part was said in a hurry, hopefully to avoid any further embarrassment that would be brought up by this.

“You broke Skulker!? Ha! You have to tell us how you did it now.” Tucker demanded as he pointed a finger to his best friend and laughed at the misery of the ghost hunter.

“So, apparently, the Ancients are not only still kicking around, but I’ve met all of them and made friends with half of them, beating the other half to a pulp.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna need more context for that. Who are the Ancients again?” Sam asked this time, flipping through one of the books she had with herself, “I can’t find anything on them.”

“Ok, so you remember Pariah Dark, right?”

“The dude that plucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone?” Tucker asked, straightening himself on the seat he was on, now paying more attention to the story being told.

“Yeah, that dude. He was trapped inside the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep when Vlad released him that one time-” “-Vlad was the one that released him!?” Jaxx interrupted, putting hands in the air as her disbelief was heard from her voice.

“Wait, why am I surprised? He’s narcissistic enough to believe that was a good idea.”

“Yeah, anyways, the ones that trapped him there in the first place were a group of 7 powerful ghosts that banded together to stop his tyranny. Those are the Ancients.”

“Ok, so how do you know them all then?”

“I’ll just name them for you and you’ll get it. First is Clockwork-” “Yeah that’s a given.” “Not surprised.” “Who’s Clockwork again?” “Oh yeah you weren’t there when we had our time travel adventure.” “Oh, from the Dan incident, got it.” “Basically ghost time god.” “Well, doesn’t that rock the worldview.” “-next is Pandora.”

“Wait, Pandora is an Ancient?” “Considering her box I wouldn’t be surprised.” “Talking about those, it is safe, right? Nowhere near Boxy?” “Don’t worry Jazz, we’re safe there.”

“Anyways, the rest are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Vortex, Nocturne and Marduk.” Danny finished listing all of the Ancients’ names, a finger up for each of them until 7 fingers were up.

“Ok, so apparently we all know all of the most powerful ghosts of the Ghost Zone, and somehow became friends with 3 of them, while also managing to survive being enemies of the other half?” With each word, Tucker’s voice became more and more strained and high pitched, and in the end he seemed like a kettle in the boiling point.

“Yep.”

“That means I also got mind controlled by one of the Ancients.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t a good day.”

“That also means that that one Observant you punched in the eyeball was an Ancient, right?” Jazz was beginning to get a little nervous now, if the increase of pitch in her voice and dilated pupils were anything to go by.

“That asshole deserved it and nothing y’all say will make me think otherwise.” Crossing his arms Danny floated in place with his head up, not regretting doing said thing in the slightest.

“Wait a second, doesn’t that mean that you’re stronger than all the Ancients then? You managed to defeat Pariah alone after all.” Sam brought up a good point, a smile spreading through Tucker’s face when she said so.

“Dude, this is great then, that means that you won’t have to worry about any ghost ever again, you can just relax and goof around now.” Tucker was vibrating in place right now, stimming as his eyes shined through his glasses, “how many shenanigans do you think we can do with your fights now?”

“Oh oh oh, I got some ideas for that kind of thing,” Sam got closer to the boys, now conniving with them as well.

“At least you’ve managed to reach some peace of mind brother.” Jazz muttered under her breath as she sighed and shook her head, a fond smile adorning her face while doing so, “ok, move away, I also have some ideas for shenanigans.”

Meanwhile, in the Infinite Realms, the rumor mill was beginning to work around as ghosts were talking and spreading the things that happened at Johnny’s party the previous day, and it all started with Technus visiting Skulker.

“Skulker! I, Technus, master of all things technological and electrical have come to give your suit a check up and see if it’ll need any updates!” He trespassed into the island of the hunter with no regard to the traps that were spread around the place, moving masterfully to avoid all of them without a second thought. “Skulker!?”

When he managed to find the hunter, he was outside of his suit, just looking at the vegetation that spread through his Lair as the different hues of green were distinct enough to be distinguished from each other and the perpetual green with purple highlights of the Ghost Zone, eyes unfocused on anything as he remained there unblinking.

“Skulker, you alright there?”

“Peachy.” The sarcasm was tangible even in the soft single word that was uttered from his mouth, gaze still unfocused and to the skies.

“What happened that got the greatest hunter of the Ghost Zone in such a bad mood.”

“We’re just playmates Technus,” he finally turned his eyes away and looked directly into his eyes, “we’re just playmates to the whelp.”

“The ghost child? What makes you think that?”

“He told us about that yesterday”

“You mean that wasn’t a joke? How did you figure that?”

“Because of Frostbite.”

“What does he have to do with anything, he’s a pretty strong ghost, I’ll give him that, but he’s friends with the ghost child, he isn’t his enemy, he wouldn’t fight him of his own volition.”

“He has everything to do with this. I did some research on why he picked his costume and how come that Frostbite ghost was dressed up as the Whelp as well, and the things I uncovered were disconcerting to say the least.”

“Ok, and those things are…?”

“He’s an Ancient.”

“...What?”

“Frostbite is an Ancient.”

“You’re telling me I fought against an Ancient!?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that detail when the Whelp chose to give me an existential crisis back then.”

“I fought against an Ancient!? I mean, no wonder it all seemed like a game from his perspective, but still, I sparred against an Ancient!?”

“And that’s not the only thing.”

“There’s more?” The whispered question left Technus’ mouth as disbelief plagued those words.

“Ember told me that the other ghost the Whelp invited is Pandora, another one of the Ancients.”

“Is the Kid friend with all the Ancients!?”

“At this rate he might as well be.”

“I-I need to sit down for a second here. This is too much.” Technus lowered himself until he was sitting on top of a rock that was next to Skulker's empty mech, bringing a hand to his head and combing his hair.

“Yes… It’s a lot.”

“Wait… didn’t Frostbite say that the Ghost Boy’s fighting abilities would be up to the standards of the Ancient of Hope Pandora?”

“Oh Ancients you’re right… Does that mean that we’re up to the standards of an Ancient?” The hope in Skulker’s voice was palpable, having the possible recognition of an Ancient as the greatest hunter of the Ghost Zone would give him the biggest boost to his ego in his whole death.

“I have to tell everyone, I can’t believe even the Box Ghost has met the standards of an Ancient.”

“Pshhh, I doubt that guy can meet anyone’s standards,” Skulker began floating to his mech and got inside, closing his face and beginning operating it, “except maybe Lunch Lady’s standards for a lover. I heard from Ember that they’re looking to take the next step soon enough.”

“Oh, they’ll have a baby!?” Technus floated a few centimeters higher when he heard the news, “I have to congratulate them, then I’ll spread the word of Phantom and us being up to Ancient standards.”

“Don’t exaggerate anything, I don’t want any powerful ghost coming to my Lair looking for a fight and destroying me,” Skulker said as he stood up and began polishing some of his weapons, “the Whelp is the one within standards, we’re just below them, remember that.”

“Sure sure, now I have to go to congratulate the lucky pair, see you later Skulker.”

And like that, a rumor began running around the Infinite Realms, starting with the fact that Phantom was up to the standards of the Ancients, and some of his rogues were as well if Danny had to take their fights seriously; then that got distorted into Phantom fighting some Ancients with the help of some of his rogues, then it distorted furthermore into Danny fighting and winning against some Ancients alone, then some rouges (between them Skulker and Technus) being able to defeat some Ancients if they work together, then that Johnny’s party was interrupted by an Ancient that Danny beat up and got out of his Lair, to then Danny fighting against 2 Ancients and winning barely with the help of some other ghosts present; to finally land funnily enough to Danny kicking out 2 of the Ancients alone of the party, which is actually true if one remembers that he did so with words only instead of fists and ecto-blasts, but that’s something only a few knew, and it’s not like doing that isn’t just as impressive as doing so with a fight.

After that small rumor mill completed its job through a month’s time, another one began working at the same time about the epicness of Johnny and Kitty’s parties, beginning with the fact that one would be able to duke it out without repercussions, to the fact that the open bar they had had some very mysterious and potent stuff, to there being the possibility of some famous ghosts assisting, to the certainty that famous ghosts always go to them, to Ancients going to them as well.

And it’s not like those 2 rumors will be leaving soon, after all they all have some nuggets of truth inside them. Danny is strong enough to be recognized by all of the Ancients, and he’s friends with some of them, not to mention that he has defeated 3 of them as well. And Johnny and Kitty both have some bottles of liquor without labels, and they allow fights as long as they happen in the backyard of their Lair, and in the latest party 2 Ancients were invited as a +3, and they’re plenty famous alright if ghosts know their history, which to be fair, that’s only a small amount of them.

By the time that Danny went to the Acropolis of Athena, all the ghosts that he came across that wasn’t part of his rogue gallery gave him a wide berth, avoiding him at all costs, and the fact that everyone say him arriving towards the Lair of an Ancient, passing over the labyrinth without being struck down, and stopping at Pandora’s room, letting those few with the ability to see though the buildings witness her receiving him with open arms and a hug, did nothing to calm down the rumor mill, if anything, it made the rumors going around worse, thus marking the day of the party as one that catalyzed the biggest rumor distortion of all time that somehow managed to stay 100% on spot.

#Ectoberhaunt22 #EH Chaos #Day 14 #Costume Party #Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #Jazz Fenton #Skulker #Technus #Frostbite and Pandora are mentioned #Finally done with this #Never doing an event again XD #At least not for a few good years :V

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bougiebutchbitch · 1 year ago

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owo what's this? Another chapter??

I am determined to finish uploading these damn old fics before I run out of steam - kisses to everyone who comments!

#gotg #star lord #guardians of the galaxy #peter quill #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #my fic #bbb creates

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slow-burn-sally · 2 years ago

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12, 20 & 30 for the fic asks owo

Thank you friend!!

12. How many WIP's do you have in your docs for next year?

I just finished a rough draft for the last chapter of my latest bagginshield fic, and I have to finish my izzy/lucious ofmd wip. Those are actual, living, current wips.

I have a dreamling wip that I ran out of steam with, and another dreamling idea to work on next year.

other projects, MORE TINTIN. MORE JOPZIER. Maybe a Major Merlin from jsamn fandom. I am really feeling writing lately.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Maybe the childercelles fic I wrote about Lascelles being a flower shop owner and Childermass being a tattoo artist that I love and that @fol-de-lol enjoyed, but that no one else apparently read.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

How obsessed I’d become with Death In Paradise probably. I started out rewatching the first two seasons with my roommate, and then we blazed through all of the episodes to the current day and I am sort of bonkers over Richard/Camille Jack/Florence. Also that I would fall in love with and write fic for Dougal McGuire. These are not new fandoms, nor are they particularly active ones, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

Thanks again Dim!

#dimdiamond #ask meme #ao3 wrapped #death in paradise #the terror #jopzier #the adventures of tintin #haddotin #the hobbit #bagginshield #ofmd

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dragon0blood · 4 months ago

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HLM

Ooh another! owo

H: How would you describe your style?

Answer: Hope for the best. No really. 9 times out of 10 I'm doing no planning and I've got nothing in my pocket as I got along. It's a "as I go" process, which I'm sure comes across. So my style? Yeah, hope for the best lol

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Answer: If it is a solo made item, like just me going along, I barely even reread it. But if it is a commission, or a collaboration, or what have you, I'll go over it at least twice before having more people take a look.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Answer: Always! I've had an idea about Trans!Hä paired with our lovely bodyguard for a little bit and a few friends and I bounced some ideas around and I'm really excited for it!

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #bojan cvjetićanin #joost klein #joker out #häärijä #nace jordan #jan peteh #kris guštin #jure maček #matti myllyaho #jesse voss

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kingxlinkwrites · 8 months ago

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PERSONAL FIC: Edge of a Knife Ch.1

Got a touch of GID/whump in here, but even if not, it's writing, so here it goes! I'm slowly working on this Supernatural fic, but feel free to read and ask questions if you have any. owo

Also, Lyn and Christian belong to @resonantcrimson <3

Content warnings for ENTIRE fic below. Content warnings for THIS CHAPTER in tags.

c/w: swearing, literally all things supernatural, emotional trauma, violence and physical trauma, character death

Summary: It all started with a paycheck. Lyn wants to find the Winchesters, her brother Christian is dying, and Gage has no idea what he's getting into. He certainly didn't know just how wild things would get upon actually finding the Winchesters, but things never seem to slow down once he and Lyn track the brothers down. It only gets weirder from there, but somehow...none of them can seem to stay away from each other for long.

“Well, that was fucking gross,” Gage comments idly as he wipes a glob of mud off of his face.

“What’d you expect?” Ashlyn—no, Lyn—replies, making a face when Gage flings the mud at her. “We went through a creek bed after a storm to get here. It’s supposed to be gross.”

“Correction, you made us go through a creek bed after a storm.”

“You wanted to go in the front, guns blazing, and probably get us killed, so yeah, I wanted to go through the damn creek bed.”

Gage sighs heavily as he starts to climb up the short cliff to the place in question. It was an old mansion, supposedly haunted by something very territorial, which shouldn't have been an issue…if the local kids would just stop agitating the fucking ghost. After the sheriff’s office locked up the gates, the only way in was through the muddy creek bed and up the cliff wall behind the massive building.

It’s not worth arguing with Lyn, he thinks. He just wants to get the job over with. She paid him enough to keep him going for another week or two, if he was careful, just to find these fucking Winchester brothers for her poor, sweet, stupid brother.

Sure, Gage felt bad for the little dude, lying in a hospital bed, probably on the verge of death…but the fuck did that have to do with him?

“This way,” he mutters when he reaches the top of the cliff, Lyn close behind him. “Door’s…open. Be ready.”

Lyn gives a short nod. Together, the two creep towards the open door, just in time for a body to come flying through it, slamming into Gage’s chest and knocking him back towards the cliff’s edge.

“DEAN!” A voice shouts after the body, perfectly in time with Lyn screaming for Gage.

Gage, on the other hand, hits the ground hard, skidding across the wet grass and wrestling with the aggressive figure on top of him. “Would you fucking cut it out—“ Gage starts to snap before the figure grabs him by the face, covering the smaller man’s mouth with one broad hand.

Gage has a split second to look up at the other man, able to take in his features for only a moment. He has the face of an angel, Gage thinks distantly, but there’s a fucking devil in his eyes.

The stranger lifts Gage’s head by the grip on his face and slams it back down into the dirt several times. Gage’s vision goes black, punctuated by Lyn and a third man screaming bloody murder.

And then he’s out.

#kingxlinkwrites #writing #tw swearing #tw violence #tw whump #whump #supernatural oc #dean winchester x oc #sam winchester x oc #supernatural fanfic #supernatural

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occult-roommates · 10 months ago

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Future of this blog

Ok so, yeah I've been taking a break from Tumblr for like three months now, to the detriment of this blog. I'm not abandoning it, unlike my main, in fact I have plans for the future. So here it is.

February: Still on hiatus, owo sowwy. March: Slowly coming back, I'll be posting at least twice a week some stuff that I've had in the back of my mind for a while that are more or less canon like random CAS screenshots. In the mean time, I'll be cooking the upcoming chapters. Will also try to get up to date with everyone else's stories though I might do that in February. April: The grand return of Occult Roommates season 3! Don't know what the schedule will look like but I'll try posting as regularly as possible (cause as I mentionned on my main blog a few days ago, I went back to school recently so I'm not as free as I used to be). May: Will take another break as I'm going to spend three weeks in Europe with my cousin. We'll spend 10 days in Brittany and 10 days in the Netherlands. June: Everything should be back to normal.

Also, I'm kinda disappointed I missed a lot of holidays I wanted to make special celebration posts for so I'm just gonna compile them into one post cause why not. I also wanted to make special birthday post for the characters but I've already missed Rudi and Charlie so I'm gonna start doing that on Dawud's birthday, so March 21st.

See you in March everyone.

#elouan's rambling

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kareofbears · 4 years ago

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blinding lights, chapter 2/4

Their height gap is a wide one, but in no way is Sumire going to let Akechi keep looking down on her. “It became my business the minute we wanted the same thing: to fix this reality.“

—

Akechi and Sumire have to traverse through the events of the third semester without Akira (or rather, against him).

Read on AO3 or you can read below! whatever works for you :-)

They both agreed to meet at noon at an address of Sumire’s choosing. Considering that Tokyo is still in a post New Year’s mindset, the streets and the stores that reside there are fairly sluggish; only a few elderly couples and a handful of families with toddlers tugging them along are mindlessly walking through the streets of Shibuya.

Akechi takes one look at the restaurant. “No.”

“Huh?”

“No,” he repeats, glaring at the adorable restaurant with no small amount of disdain. “Why here?”

“I thought that a small, public setting like this would be smart,” she scratches her cheek. Maybe she’d misheard when—”Kurusu-senpai mentioned that you liked this type of food, back before school went on break.”

“Did he now?” His tone is light, but his jaw looks worryingly locked in place. “How kind of him.”

“We can go somewhere else—”

“No need,” Akechi narrows his eyes at the bright neon signs once more before going through the glass double-doors. “I’m not so petty as to refuse a restaurant for no good reason.”

“Okay,” Sumire says for a lack of better response, following him in. Why Akechi has such a fierce vendetta against eating at an IHOP, she’ll probably never know.

They were seated right away by a flustered waitress. Akechi smiles at her, charming and non-threatening. It’s almost kind of jarring seeing it now.

After she shakily hands them the laminated menus, she stumbles away to the kitchen—no doubt to rave about how sweet the detective is in person, how approachable.

“Finally. I was afraid I’d snap at her if she’d stayed a moment longer.” He starts skimming the menu, ignoring her curious stare. “You have a question.”

“I do, but I don’t want to come off as rude.”

“I’ve dealt with people who would dispose of me if I so much breathed the wrong way,” he flips the page. “Give me some credit.”

She thinks of the halls in Shujin, filled to the brim with rumors and hate and animosity towards her. This aspect, at the very least, can act as a middle-ground between Sumire and the boy in front of her.

“You’re not really the Detective Prince, are you?”

“Of course I am.”

“But it’s an act, isn’t it?”

He chuckles mockingly. “Everything is an act, Yoshizawa. There isn’t a single person out there who isn’t pretending in some way or another. But, if you’re referring to how I’m no longer keeling over to lick people’s gum off their shoe, then sure, I’m not really the Detective Prince.” Akechi pauses when her eyes dart toward the kitchen. “Of course, there are exceptions to every rule. If it’ll benefit me, I can be whoever I need to be.”

The door to the kitchen bursts open. Akechi smirks. “Exhibit A.”

The waitress returns, slightly red and clutching the handle of a steaming coffee pot like a lifeline.

“On the house,” she blurts out as she pours the hot liquid into their mugs. “Um, are you ready?”

They give her their order (Sumire gets a breakfast platter with double pancakes while Akechi seems adamant on not ordering anything on the breakfast menu, asking for cream and sugar instead). When they finish, Akechi flashes the waitress a smile, tilting his head so that his brown hair brushes his shoulders, and induces yet another wave of red to flood towards her cheeks.

She scampers away and Sumire gives him a look. “Did you trick her to...get coffee?”

“To prove a point,” he corrects. Lifting his mug, one sniff has him grimacing. “Leblanc has truly spoiled me. This smells rancid.”

She lifts her own mug; it smells delightful. “That sounds exhausting, having to constantly change how you act.”

“Perhaps. But if it gets the job done, then I can’t complain. Survival, after all, must come before anything else, only closely followed by the notion of winning. Many times, those two coincide.”

“And if you get caught in the act? What happens then?”

“That doesn’t happen.”

“Sure it does,” she picks up her teaspoon and absentmindedly stirs the contents of her mug. “Why else would you be interacting with me without your…persona?”

“You think you caught me in the act?” He asks, an eyebrow arched.

“Oh, no, not at all. But someone must’ve figured it out for me.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say ‘figured it out,’ but in a way, yes. It’s more coincidence and luck. Less figuring out and more,” Akechi pauses. “A different perspective.”

Leaning back into the (slightly sticky) faux leather of the booth, he folds his hands together in a polished manner. “Are you sufficed with this interview? Or is this an interrogation?”

“I thought it was more of a nice chat,” she replies.

“Chat?” Sumire freezes. Akechi’s voice had dropped an octave, and her stomach along with it. “Chats are what people have when they’re gossiping about what some boy is doing after school, or when they have the luxury to waste time. Chatting is what friends do, Yoshizawa, and forgive me if I wasn’t clear enough. However,” he leans forward, his red eyes dark and lips pulled back ever so slightly. “Being allies with the same goal does not make us besties.”

He leans back, and Sumire can only stare at him. She tries to push away the intense waves of disappointment, irritation, and embarrassment at tricking herself twice now. A million words are stuck on her tongue like a fly caught on sticky paper—struggling, but an ultimately fruitless endeavor.

“Okay,” is what comes out. Clearing her throat, “Let’s focus back to the matter at hand then, shall we?” Sumire spoke timidly, but not out of fear of the man in front of her, but rather in fear of scaring him away. It’s obvious he has a bus load and a half of issues, but they’re allies and right now, they don’t have anyone but each other. This is one objective she can’t afford to slip up on, and with her knowledge of the Metaverse being shaky at best, she needs all the help she can get.

“Let’s.”

As he’s about to continue, the waitress returns with Sumire’s staggering order, Akechi’s sugar and milk (in tiny, blue capsules) and mysteriously straightened hair. “So sorry for the delay,” she says, most of her attention on a boy who seems infinitely more interested in the creamer than her.

“Thank you,” Sumire blurts out when he doesn’t reply, more to fill the awkward silence than anything. At least it seems to snap the waitress out of whatever disappointed stupor she’s in, after the detective had a full one-eighty on his personality.

The waitress walks back, shoulders drooping, and Sumire points a side eye at Akechi. “That was mean. Kindness has its own benefits too, you know.”

“Alright, Maruki. Can we get a move on?”

“Please.”

Akechi folds his hand over each other. “I mentioned that I’ve worked with the Thieves in the past.” At Sumire’s nod, “I believe that can be used to our advantage.”

She frowns, and picks up her fork. “Our advantage? Did you learn something back then?” She starts cutting into her pancakes, the scent absolutely mouth-watering.

“Not quite. Most of the intel I gathered from them were useless. Never in my life did I need to know about half of the bakeries in Tokyo, or which days of the week were the most plentiful in terms of grocery sales. Really, it’s all garbage. However, three things were clear by the time my truce with them had ended.”

He plucks a single capsule from the table, inspecting it with interest. “One: Kurusu Akira is very good at what he does. It pains me to admit it, but he’s powerful, much more than lets on. His ability to utilize multiple Personas to fill in any holes his team might have, the natural tendency to anticipate his opposer’s attacks. This made me knock out the initial strategy.”

“Which was?”

“Battle him on the spot,” he answers nonchalantly. “Beat some sense into him, in whatever form that may be. However, as history decides it, that plan was doomed to fail before it even began. Maybe as a last resort.” Sumire very nearly asks him what on earth he could be referring to in terms of history, but Akechi continues before she works out how to ask without setting off another aggravated landmine. It’s a lot like her floor exercises; one misstep can be her downfall.

“His power also extends past the Metaverse,” Akechi crosses his legs neatly. “He’s made a plethora of confidants splattered across the city, ranging from ridiculous to slightly worrying. The most crucial of those confidants, as you can imagine, are his pesky friends.”

Placing the capsule back onto the table delicately, he continues. “The second is what I’ve mentioned before, back in the palace—Kurusu would walk backwards into hell for his little troupe. However, the very notion of teammates demands more than one side of the party.”

He begins to stack the capsules on top of each other until a structure is created on top of the polished table (they both pretend not to notice the elderly couple eyeing them with annoyance). “And finally, number three—” Akechi leans back, gazing uninterestedly at the miniature pyramid made out of eight creamer capsules. “Is that every single one of his teammates would do the same for him.”

Like a lock and key, the pieces of it click in her mind. When he lays it out like that, it’s almost obvious.

Sumire gestures to the pyramid. “May I?” At his nod, she (reluctantly) moves her barely-touched plate out of the way and considers the structure before her.

“Kurusu-senpai is doing this for his friends,” she states.

“Indeed.”

“So, if we plan accordingly…” extending her pointer finger and, carefully, prods the base. All eight pieces fall over, the one at the top crashing down to earth the hardest.

Sumire looks up to see Akechi smiling at her, if one would be willing to call it that; it’s slightly too sinister to be called a grin, with the way his eyes are filled with subsided manic energy, though it’s shadowed by the forelocks of his brown hair—he’s the spitting image of a classic Disney villain if it were an R-rated film.

“Now you’re playing the game.”

—

The plan was simple. Straight forward.

It wasn’t too different from a hostage situation—you can’t make a move if the hostages are held over you as leverage, forced to comply with whatever the gunman wanted so long as nobody gets hurt. Take away the citizens and suddenly the situation gets a lot simpler.

Maruki had, inadvertently or not, held a gun to the Thieves’ heads with Akira playing negotiator. All Akechi and Sumire have to do is remove the hostages from the scene safely. If Akira, the negotiator, can’t be reasoned with, then they’ll just have to place their trust in the rest of them to convince Akira themselves. They just need a bit of a wake-up call.

Really, it’s a simple solution to a complex problem. All that’s left is the execution.

—

YS: are you there? i’d like to ask you something. AG: What? YS: i understand that splitting up would be smarter to make this a lot speedier and id like not to stay in this reality any longer than necessary YS: but after thinking about it, isn’t it better to do it together to guarantee success? if we can’t fail on convincing them that their reality isn’t real, then doing it together is probably a good idea! AG: That may be true. I’d like this entire fiasco to be over as soon as possible. YS: same! And you also know them way better than i do :) AG: Please don’t remind me. YS: noted AG: Are you opposed to meeting in leblanc tomorrow? We can begin our plan there. YS: starting with Morgana-senpai? that’ll be good actually. he’s the only one i at least kind of befriended AG: You’re aware that he’s not here, right? That he is not physically reading the word ‘senpai’, right? YS: yes AG: Just making sure.

Leblanc is blessedly empty when they enter, the blunt yet strong fragrance of coffee beans seeming to waft from every direction with only the slightest hint of smoke drifting towards them from the bright orange tip of Sojiro’s cigarette. He tilts the corner of his lip up at their entrance, even as his eyes light up with curiosity.

“Morning,” he greets, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and snuffing out its embers on the ashtray. “Sorry bout that, shouldn’t be smoking in front of you kids—Niijima gives me a nasty look whenever I do it. So, what can I do you for? If it’s coffee you want, it’s on the house.”

“As tempting as that may be, we’re going to have to decline,” Akechi answers. He’s once again donning a mask of pleasantness, layered so thick that Sumire has to wonder how she ever believed it. “However, we’d love to speak with Morgana for a moment, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure,” Sojiro jerks his head at the wooden staircase. “Head on up.”

They nod their thanks and make their way upstairs.

Sumire had learned early on in her life that she wasn’t someone who was prone to falling for jump scares. Horror movies aren’t really an issue for her and haunted houses were always more of an interesting location to gauge visitors’ reactions rather than try to get anything out of it herself. Often times, it is psychological horror that affected her, the creepiness of it sliding into her mind that causes her to shake and tremble.

Even though Akechi had reminded her once more, even if she spent a good amount of time trying to picture if, even though on a technical level, she knew what she would be looking at—

“Yoshizawa? Oh, Akechi too! I didn’t expect to see you guys here.”

—Nothing could have possibly prepared her for the sight of human Morgana.

He’s sat on what she’s almost sure is Akira’s bed, though it’s a futon placed on top of a bunch of grocery pallets. He has dark hair that could be mistaken as black had the sunlight from the window not shined on him, and the only remnants that could have resonated his cat form is his once-collar turning into a gold chain paired with his bright, blue eyes. With a manga perched on his lap, he looks like an ordinary boy that she wouldn’t even think twice about.

It's a really unnerving thought.

“Hello Morgana,” Akechi says when Sumire can’t seem to find her words. “May we speak to you for a second?”

“Of course! Make yourselves at home. Er, sorry it’s a little messy,” he stands and clumsily beats the run-down couch with his human hands. “Don’t know how I never noticed the mess in here before—”

Sumire leans to Akechi, eyes never leaving the fussing boy. “You’re right.”

“About?”

“This is truly harrowing.”

“You overheard that conversation?”

“—But better late than never!” Morgana finishes, giving the sofa one last pat and gesturing for them to sit. “Oh, and just let you know, I can’t stay for too long; Lady Ann wants me to carry her stuff while she walks around Shibuya and, well what kind of gentleman would I be to say no?” He laughs, so elated that it’s almost like they missed out on a gut-busting joke.

“That’s fine, this won’t take long, Morgana-senpai.”

Morgana juts his chin out, poorly concealing his smugness. “Anything for you, Yoshizawa! Just like back in Odaiba.”

He blinks, brow creasing. “Odaiba...with Akira.” His tone turns confused, like the words that were coming out of his mouth were leaving without his consent. “That was a wild day, we just found a Palace. And you had your awakening, and I was so shocked and….” A hand comes up, clutching his head and eyes scrunched tightly. “I was…”

Sumire and Akechi lock eyes, the same thought going through their mind: it’s the same reaction that Akira had. A weight left her shoulders, knowing that just as they planned, it wasn’t difficult to remind them of the true reality.

What they didn’t expect was for Morgana to disoriently glance at them and say in a quiet voice, “I gotta go...take a walk.”

“Wait, hold on—” Sumire tries.

“Feel free to stay, but I, uh, have to think,” Morgana moves towards the staircase, only half-glancing at their perplexed faces before escaping.

They don’t move until they hear the bell ringing downstairs.

“That could have gone better,” Akechi sighs, voice tight with mild irritation.

“I don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together and predict this. I mean, that’s pretty much my reaction, too!” She throws her hands in the air. “I was too distracted by how Kurusu-senpai reacted.”

“Well, as we learn time and time again, Kurusu is the exception, not the rule.” Akechi moves to lean against an old work desk, and rather than normal student supplies littering it’s surface, it has strange-looking metals and hardware. “While it’s a shame to have failed in recruiting the cat, all is not lost. As long as we can convince one of them, it’ll at least be enough to make Kurusu hesitate. That’s all we need.”

“Is that the best move?” she asks, walking around the room and inspecting the fun little knickknacks strewn about. It’s probably not the most courteous move of hers to look at someone’s room without permission, but she can’t help it. “Should we try and convince Mona-senpai?”

“It’d be a waste of time, especially while we have six other people to speak to, and our time frame is limited as is.”

“Maybe they’ll naturally come to realize it, without our prompting? He already seemed pretty on the fence about his memories.”

“Perhaps. But like I said, I don’t do gambles.” Sumire peels her away from the realistic-looking ramen bowl just in time to see the flint in his eyes. “And hell would freeze over before I let this counterfeit reality become the real one.”

Sumire smiles, though her eyes are just as hard as his. “I understand the sentiment.”

They regard each other for a long moment.

Akechi readjusts his coat. “We should leave and try again tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, maybe Boss is still up for the free coffee he mentioned.”

“Ugh, finally some good news.” They head down the stairs. “Hopefully we can make it quick—don’t want to take any chances.”

“Chances? I thought you liked the coffee here.”

“Oh, I do. But the regulars here might put a bit of a damper on the—”

The moment Akechi’s foot hits the main floor, the door to Leblanc swings open once more and a young girl with bright orange hair bursts in.

“--Situation.”

—

YS: who should come after Morgana-senpai? AG: It doesn’t matter. AG: But there are a few people who I want to postpone, if possible. YS: that’s fine, but why? AG: No reason, but if we can guarantee that we’ve convinced the others before them. AG: It’s a stroke of luck that Morgana’s wish was easy to figure out, but we have no such advantage afterwards. However, I have a select few...intuitions, for what their wishes might be. YS: that’s better than nothing! Lay them on me. AG: For some of them, nothing may be the better option.

“Ah, did you forget something?” Sojiro chides, chuckling. “I told you to double-check your bag before running off.

Futaba slaps her forehead. “Gah, I know, but there’s no way I’m missing out on a day of Akihabara with mom! It’s like getting the motherlode cheat in the Sims.” She hops over the counter and slides behind the bar, very nearly knocking over the yellow landline. “Agility plus three!”

“We have guests, Futaba, and business is hard enough as is without you jumping around.”

“Huh? People? Futaba scans the cafe, her mouth rounding to a perfect O as she is, in fact, not alone. “People! People I know!”

Sumire waves, charmed at the other girl’s exuberance. “Sorry to intrude.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s nice to see this place having some people around to move the dust every once in a while,” gesturing to the wall of canisters, her arm outstretched like an experienced realtor. “Feel free to have whatever you’d like, free of charge!”

“Futaba,” Sojiro exasperates, with no small amount of adoration laced in every syllable. He turns to them in a what can you do? gesture. “She’s right, though. Say the word and I’ll brew something up.”

Futaba gasps. “Mom! She’s still out there waiting. Oh, big brain idea comin’ in!” She redirects her outstretched hand to point at them, still standing awkwardly at the staircase. “I’ll bring mom in here and introduce you both!”

Akechi stiffens on her left. “No need, we were just about to—”

“Ah, ah, ah! Nope!” she interrupts, already halfway out the door. “I’ll be back before you can recite the national anthem.” Futaba runs out, leaving the ball ringing behind her.

“That girl is a whirlwind,” Sojiro says gruffly. “Hope she didn’t scare you off. Especially you, Akechi,” he ducks behind the bar, rummaging through its shelves. “You ran out real fast last time you came in here.”

Sumire’s eyes dart towards Akechi when he doesn’t answer. “Are you okay?”

He’s about to answer when Futaba decides to burst in for the second time, chest heaving and face pink. A grin takes up every crevice of her features as she clutches the hand of a woman looking fondly at her. “I come bearing gifts! Well, a gift.”

Sojiro sighs. “Sorry Wakaba, can’t reign her in like you can.”

“You’d be a fool to think anyone reign her in,” Wakaba laughs, before tilting her head curiously at Akechi and Sumire. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“They’re friends with Akira and I!” Futaba says, chest puffed out. “Yoshizawa and Akechi, meet my mom—” For a split second, Futaba’s eyes widen before grabbing the counter’s ledge. “Nngh…”

“Sweetheart?”

“Futaba, what’s wrong?”

Sumire turns to Akechi, a clear question in her eyes. What triggered it?

“My head,” Futaba groans. She removes her glasses and rubs her eyes furiously with her palm.

However, the minute she pulls her hand away, Futaba’s eyes open and Sumire feels her stomach lurch uncomfortably. Those are no longer the eyes of the girl playfully giving away the contents of a humble coffee shop to mess with her dad; they’re the eyes of someone who’s confused, shocked, and, above all else livid.

And she’s directing it all at Akechi.

“Mom,” she says, voice trembling. “I feel better, so let’s go.”

Wakaba frowns. “Are you sure? You look so pale."

“Don’t worry! I just—I just really want to go.”

Futaba throws another glare at Akechi and an inquisitive look at Sumire before leaving, her previous energy sapped away.

SIghing, Wakaba gives them an apologetic look. “Sorry about that. Futaba has such a one-track mind. I’ll be sure that she apologizes—”

“Don’t,” Akechi says. “She doesn’t have to apologize for anything.”

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you," some of the tension in her shoulders dissipate. “I’m so glad to have people like you looking out for my Futaba.”

Akechi doesn’t say anything, even when Wakaba gives them a wave, following Futaba out to the backstreets of Yongen.

It was quiet for a long moment.

Sojiro clears his throat. “You still up for that coffee?”

“No, thank you,” Akechi replies, his voice possessing an odd quality to it. “I must get going now. If you’d excuse me,” In a few quick strides, he’s out of the door.

Sumire bows quickly. “Thank you for having us,” she says politely before following him out.

Looking left and right, Akechi is briskly heading towards the station. She catches up to him with ease.

“You knew that would happen,” she says flatly.

He keeps walking. “I did.”

“And you didn’t tell me? Didn’t you think that, I don’t know, would have affected our mission?”

“I didn’t tell you because it’s none of your business, and if I’m not mistaken, that’s still the case.”

“None of my business?” She ups her pace and stands in front of Akechi, forcing him to stop in his tracks. With him standing six inches taller than her, their height gap is a wide one, but in no way is Sumire going to let him keep looking down on her. “It became my business the minute we wanted the same thing: to fix this reality. I’ve come to understand that you’re not interested in being friends, but do not go against your own word by refusing to see me as an ally.”

They stare each other down for a few seconds, a handful of the neighbourhood’s residents whispering about them and scuttling away in fear that they might get caught in the middle of some teenage spat.

“Fine,” he relents. “It wasn’t the best move to withhold information. This won’t happen again. But,” looking around, there’s still some people milling about, an old man dutifully listening to the radio. “Not here.”

“Do you promise?”

Akechi scoffs and moves around her. “Would you like to pinky swear?”

“Akechi.”

“Fine, yes, I promise. Are you really such a goody two shoes that you need a damn contract?”

Sumire frowns. “Goody two shoes?”

“As straight laced as the student council president herself,” he confirms, pulling out his commuter's card as they near the station. “At least Niijima broke out of it once she realized what she was fighting for,” he looks back at her. “Have you?”

Clenching a fist, she says, “You have no idea what I’m fighting for. And I’m still not sure if you know what you’re fighting for, Akechi.”

His gaze hardens. “I know damn well what I’m fighting for. Not everyone has philanthropy running through their veins. That’s Kurusu’s job.”

A crowd of people exit their trains, filling up the station. By the time it dissipates, Akechi is gone.

—

YS: shouldn’t we try to approach Sakamoto-senpai first? YS: i’m sure kurusu-senpai doesn’t play favorites, but he IS his best friend, and, well, in love with him. it would be smart to guarantee that he’s on our side AG: True. Whether we like it or not, that jester is an important factor to the success of the mission. AG: But that’s why I think we should save him for last. It’s better to guarantee everyone first and then Sakamoto as a last resort. YS: (´;︵;`) AG: ...What. YS: that’s rude to sakamoto-senpai. he’s really nice! AG: No, I mean what is...that? YS: an emoji? i love them, they’re very expressive. AG: Stop that. YS: .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.

Instead of taking the train right away, Sumire decides to take a look at the inner workings of Yongen.

It’s a lovely little area—away from the insatiable hustle of Shibuya but close enough in case you want to indulge yourself in shopping and the never ending waves of shoppers. Yongen is like it’s younger, humbler cousin; small groceries, a quiet movie theatre, batting cages, and of course, a quaint cafe with a dedicated fan base of elderly couples, pretentious film critics, and a large group of teenagers.

She goes to none of these commodities, finding herself drawn to the second-hand shop run by a kind old man. An expensive habit it may be, but Sumire has always fallen back to shopping whenever she’s feeling frustrated at the world. She may not have a closet worthy of Vague, but it’s an enjoyable distraction at the very least.

And after that conversation with Akechi, she’ll take any distraction she can get.

Sumire takes a deep inhale. It would be laughably easy to let herself snap on the detective, with the stunt he pulled earlier. This mission is difficult enough as it is, especially without the mind games. It’s like playing tug-of-war with a brick wall; she’s lost the game before she even began. No, she refuses to lose. If there’s one thing she’s learned in gymnastics (except how to execute a flawless aerial cartwheel) is that half the competition is the mindset you have walking on to the mat. If you take a step with the slightest belief that you’re going to fail, the medal was doomed to fall in someone else’s hands.

Sumire begins to shop even harder.

She’s in the middle of inspecting a strangely charming glasses case that her father would absolutely love when she hears a surprised, “Yoshizawa?”

Nearly dropping the case, she turns to find a sweaty, grinning Ryuji, hand gripping one of his earphones that she can hear even from here. “Sakamoto-senpai!” Carefully placing it back down, she heads towards him, waving. “Do you run in this area?”

“Heck yeah! Life hack:” he looks around like someone who’s about to spill the beans on nuclear codes. “If you look tired enough, Boss’ll give you free drinks.” Sumire can’t help but laugh, and he goes on. “And y’know, I see ‘Kira here all the time, so that’s always a plus.

She fights not to let the smile drop from her face. “That must be nice.”

“Eh, it ain’t half-bad,” he says ruefully, but there was no hiding the clear fondness his voice possesses. “Hey, you got something goin’ on right now?”

“Um, not particularly.”

“Eff yeah! How about you and I walk around? There’s a real nice park down the street and, uh,” his expression turns sheepish. “In all honesty, you look like you could use a bit of a breather right now.”

Three things run through Sumire’s mind in the span of a breath: Ryuji’s definitely one of the nicest senpais she’s ever had, Akechi would probably warn her that hanging out with Ryuji might be stupid on her part, and that’s a huge part as to why she’s most definitely going to agree to spend time with him.

“I’d love to, as long as I’m not interrupting your workout in any way.”

“Nah, I’m on my cool down anyway.” Yanking out his other earphone and shoving them in his track pants (trademark Shujin red and white). “Let’s get this show on the road!”

“Yes, let’s!”

A fourth thought ran through her mind; a quiet, subdued, selfish thought that she herself is too wary to consciously think about. Her goal right now is an honest one. She just wants a window—the same window that Akira had looked out from. What does he see? What’s going through his mind when he sees Ryuji? All she wants is a little bit of perspective.

“What were you listening to?” Sumire asks. “During your run.”

“Oh, nothing crazy,” Ryuji shrugs. “Just some political podcasts.”

“Really?” She always assumed he listened more to punk songs that hurt her ears.

“Yeah, I mean there’s a lot of shit going on in the world, and there ain’t much I can do ‘bout it. I might as well get pissed off in, like, a smart way, so I know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s really impressive! I usually don’t listen to anything while I run since I have to actively focus on my form.”

Ryuji’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “You run? I mean, yeah, no duh you run, you’re like all gymnasticsy and stuff! And you don’t listen to music?”

“Not really.”

“That’s hardcore. That’s like what monks do on the mountains.”

“Oh, I’m nowhere near that level.”

“You’re closer than I am, at least. You need crazy good concentration when you do your…” Ryuji does a messy hop-and-spin move. “How long you been doing that by the way?”

“Gymnastics? Since I was really young.”

“No way. You gotta tell me about it!”

The two of them walk around the park with Sumire explaining her journey of experiencing the competitive world of gymnastics (carefully exempting the darker parts) and Ryuji oohs and ahhs at the appropriate times, eagerly asking her technical questions on her regimen with a crazy amount of detail. It’s clear that he’s passionate about athleticism and Sumire can’t help but be infected by his genuine enthusiasm, asking him for tips on how to avoid cramps while running long distance in return.

But one thing that Sumire can’t help but notice is how permanent Akira’s presence is in their conversation, despite not being here physically. Whether it’s Ryuji mentioning him in passing, or rolling his eyes at something he did, or just asking in a teasing tone if Akira’s actually a good senpai (“c’mon, he ain’t here, I’m no snitch I promise!”). Despite all that, it’s obvious it’s all done with a bucketful of tenderness; a clear and unbreaking thread that ties the two together that no blade in the world can cut apart.

And that’s the moment that Sumire realizes, only for a split second, she got what she wanted: perspective.

While she herself may not harbor those feelings, it’s easy to see how someone could—especially if they were a transfer student who had distressing rumors surrounding them since day one. Sumire can understand the impact that one person may have on you when it feels like you’re fighting all of Shibuya. She can comprehend the need to fight for that person’s happiness—after all, isn’t that what she’s doing?

A realization jolts her as she watches Ryuji speak, eyes bright and hands moving animatedly, that he’s probably still under the rose-tinted lenses of Akira’s wish.

He drops her off the station with a wave once they’re done. Sumire’s left to deal with sifting through which parts of their conversation was either byproduct of the wish or which was the real Sakamoto Ryuji.

—

AG: There’s also the matter of finding their locations. Some of them aren’t as straight forward in their hangouts, while others are as predictable as playing poker with Sakamoto. AG: Knowing Kitagawa, he would be loitering around the museum in Ueno. It would be easy to ambush him there.

They find Yusuke gazing at the portrait of Sayuri in Ueno the next day.

It was an odd sight, seeing Sayuri out in the open again. Sumire only knew about its history through public knowledge—a once internationally renowned artist named Madarame had been stealing his students’ art and abusing them under his care. While Yusuke’s name had initially been anonymous, it was impossible to completely leave him incognito with how massive the case had been; the painting of Sayuri, once praised to high heaven and appreciated by people who had never even picked up a paintbrush, forever bastardized and tainted by the greed of Madarame.

And now it’s on display once more.

“Let’s get this over with,” Akechi says as they close the gap between them and Yusuke.

“Be nice,” she reminds him, and clears her throat. “Kitagawa-san?”

Yusuke slowly peels his eyes away from the painting and lights up once he processes who was speaking. “Yoshizawa, Akechi, hello. Have you come here to look at my mother’s painting as well?”

“Yes,” says Sumire. “It’s truly beautiful and...a shock to see.”

He nods, his vision trailing back towards the portrait. “It’s all thanks to my sensei’s unyielding patronage that I’m lucky enough to view it from a museum,” Yusuke speaks with warmth, a tone contradicting the bluntness that Yoshizawa had associated him with. “Everyday I thank the hand of fate that dealt my cards; had I not had my sensei supporting me, I don’t know where I’d be today.”

Sumire swallows. “Do you mean Madarame?”

“Of course!” Yusuke claps his hands together, elated. “Speaking of, would you two like to join us for dinner tonight? I’d so dearly love for you both to meet him,” Yusuke smiles and she feels her chest tighten. “To spread the word of my sensei’s excellence as a thank you for what he’s done for my mother...nothing would make me happier.”

You don’t know them like I do. You don’t know how much it means for them to have their lives back.

Akira’s voice enters her mind, and she almost sympathizes with his words. Mostly though, all she can think about is the cruelty of letting Yusuke continue on like this.

“Kitagawa,” Akechi cuts in, unfazed. “Is that Sayuri you were looking at?”

Yusuke’s brow creases. “Sayuri...? That isn’t what it’s called….”

“Is Madarame-san a good sensei?” Sumire presses, and holds back a flinch when his resolve begins to crumble in front of her.

“Madarame,” he whispers. “Am I being fooled again?”

“Only if you let yourself be,” says Sumire.

“So focus,” says Akechi.

They wait with bated breath as they watch Yusuke struggle to reign in the whirlwind of thoughts flying through his brain, clenching his fists and shoulders tensing.

And then, slowly, he raises his head at them, defeated.

“Excuse me, but I must be going.”

Sumire winces, and stretches her hand out. “Kitagawa—” But he was already gone.

Beside her, Akechi lets out a hiss. “Useless. They’re all useless.”

“We still have four to go,” she reminds him. “And please try to understand his pain. He lost his mother and he has to find out that he was being used. That’s horrible.”

“Oh, boohoo. So did I, but you don’t see me having a breakdown in the middle of a museum.”

Her eyes widen and Akechi scoffs. “Save me the pity bullshit, we don’t have time for that. Besides,” he heads for the exit. “That hasn’t bothered me in a long, long time.”

—

YS: oh, i know where one of them may be! Takamaki-senpai frequents the underground mall, and i bet we can find her there :) AG: Understood. AG: (*❛‿❛)→ YS: sorry? AG: What? You were correct in that they’re useful for conveying expressions. AG: The arrow indicates that it’s pointing. I.e. you have a point that Takamaki is probably there. YS: ooh! I never thought about it like that. nice one!

Sumire didn’t know how she didn’t realize it sooner.

Rumors are a staple of Shujin Academy; if you weren’t the focus of one, you’d be the one spreading it—the gust of wind amidst a wildfire. In her first year, there were really only three hotspots in the rumour mill that were constantly being shoved in Sumire’s ears: the vulgar used-to-be ace of the track team who’s now a violent delinquent, the serial killer/arsonist/elephant trafficker criminal transfer student that came in early April, and the gorgeous foreigner that no one can take their eyes off, least of all the coach of the volleyball team.

Sumire isn’t a stranger to the cycle, having been the focus of one ever since she was made an honors student. While it had made her life unnecessarily difficult, it granted her a different outlook on those three. It has shown her an obvious truth that people seem to forget when they’re parroting false facts: most rumors aren’t true.

The delinquent isn’t actually a delinquent, but someone who refuses to stay quiet in the name of injustice. The transfer student is only a criminal in the eyes of the law, someone who had the opportunity to save someone and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, no matter the cost. The foreign student is just a girl who’s unfortunate enough to end up in the spotlight of an irredeemable scumbag of a teacher that never hesitated to hold his power over students.

But.

There was another rumor that followed Ann, one that didn’t get displayed on a billboard and screamed from the rooftops. It was passed around quietly, like a drug deal, and it was buried beneath the Kamoshida hearsay.

Most rumors aren’t true, but seeing Ann and Shiho interact with each other in the mall, Sumire didn’t know how she didn’t realize sooner that they’re head-over-heels in love with each other.

“Ugh, Shiho, I seriously can’t stop thinking about that spike you did in the last game!” Ann gushes as they shop for shoes. “It’s just like bam! Like some kind of cannon! I’m so glad it was taped.”

“Stop, you’re overreacting,” Shiho rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling wide enough that it wipes away any heat.

“No way, I’m gonna keep yelling about how incredible my girlfriend is until—Oh, hold on Shiho—Hey! Akechi! Yoshizawa! Over here!”

Ann enthusiastically waves them over. “Fancy seeing you two here. Doing some New Year’s shopping? Shiho and I are just celebrating the fact that she was the MVP in her last volleyball tournament,” she puffs out her chest. “But it really stinks that I couldn’t be there to watch in person with her, with her school being so far and all. She’s coming back this year, though! I’m so excited!”

Sumire nods, smiling, and tries not to stare at Shiho. Everyone’s seen a glimpse of what Shiho looked like after that day. No one thought that she’d be walking at all anytime soon, and even after intensive therapy it would be difficult to bring it back a hundred percent. But here she is now, speaking casually about playing in a volleyball tournament like she was born to do it.

“Oh my God, Ann, they don’t need to know that.” Shiho turns to Akechi, sheepish. “Sorry you hear all that, especially when I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Suzui Shiho. It’s good to meet you, detective.”

“Pleasure,” he replies, smiling politely. “It seems to me that you’re looking much better, Suzui-san.”

Sumire should really stop being surprised at the complete lack of reservation that Akechi possesses when it comes to reminding people of the true reality, no matter how heart-wrenching their past is.

“I’ve always been fine,” says Suzui, the comment flying over her head. “I hope you’re doing well, too.”

Akechi’s eye twitches and Sumire hurries to jump in. “It seems the two of you are happy,” she glances at Ann, and tries not to feel too bad when she says, “Especially considering what happened with Kamoshida.”

A beat passes before Ann’s gaze begins to cloud over with a now-familiar expression of disorientation and pain. Holding her breath, hoped that they could finally have their first ally amongst the Thieves.

Then Ann shakes her head aggressively and they knew it was a lost cause.

Chuckling nervously, Ann grabs Shiho’s hand. “Sorry, I just remembered we had plans to go somewhere. See you later!” Ann begins to drag Shiho—and herself—away.

Akechi clicks his tongue. “Four people in a group founded on justice and they’ve chosen to ignore their own. This is getting pathetic.”

“We still have three to go,” Sumire says. “There’s still time.”

Eyeing her with disdain, “How is that you don’t seem the least bit bothered about this?”

“There’s still three people to get to! And, not to mention, there’s a possibility that they’ll come to terms with their feelings in due time.” She tilts her head. “Have you forgotten the bonds that Kurusu-senpai has with his friends?”

“Of course not.”

“Then it’s fine,” she says. “We just have to believe that they’ll be there for him when he needs him most. Even if they aren’t here at this very moment, that’s okay.” Tucking one of her long, red locks behind her ear, she smiles. “Faith is an advantage in its own right.”

#owo? whats this? another chapter?#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5 #p5r #goro akechi #ryuji sakamoto #sumire yoshizawa #kasumi yoshizawa #blinding lights #akiryu #pegoryu #akira kurusu #writing goro like a piece of shit is just so good its like therapy BUT YOU GOTTA DO IT RESPECTFULLY #i may hate him but i dont hate him. no <3 #anyway wear a mask and social distance #mine

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