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toons-inkwell · 9 months ago

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Finding "Frankie" AU. Chapter: 1

Warnings: Death, blood, this is a horror game AU ya know so all that.

Words: 4,980. (Check reblogs after for author's notes if interested)

The sound of metal springs rapidly coiling and relaxing reverberated off concrete walls deep in an area hidden from the public's eye. What once was an attraction built to harbor cheer, joy, and entice adults and children to come play now was a demented trap built to trick unsuspecting fools looking for money. Posters and murals depicting what the mascots were supposed to look like were plastered all over, nothing but imagery that would give people a false sense of security before finding out what those mascots really looked like. Originally cartoons, the cast of a once beloved TV show now were twisted beyond recognition. The one the springs belonged to and what lurked through staff only areas was none other than the titular protagonist and namesake of the entire show, Frankie. Of course Frankie was a bit different from his on-screen appearance, in fact he wasn't Frankie at all. Sure his name was effectively the same and he had some semblance to him in terms of appearance, but from the very moment he was created he was told a different story. He was born of the soul and in memoriam of one of the departed showrunner's who died too soon, "Franky"—with a Y. Out of grief the remaining showrunner and the brother to the deceased crafted him to carry on the legacy, for him to help continue the show even in its... New format. He didn't like to think about that though, truth be told he didn't know what he was in his current state. He held no memories of what he was like, what Franky was like, nor did he feel like something that was once a man. All he knew was that he was created to help his brother get their show back and if that meant being a ruthless monster who would rip contestants apart, so be it. He knew his place and that was right alongside his brother–

["FRANKY!"]

Franky's long lop-ears twitched as he heard his name be called out over the facilities' intercom. His body jittered unnaturally, all the springs connected to his limbs froze up and he rotated his head to face a camera on the wall pointed directly at him. On the other side of the screen watching him dwelled his creator and only family, the real Frankie.

["Sorry there Franky, didn't mean to alarm you yet we got SO MUCH to do in such a SHORT amount of time that I thought it was important enough to use the intercom to speak to you!”]

The rabbit’s ears twitched again. With a tilted head he looked at the camera and stood still, not wanting the rustling of his springy joints to drown out whatever was about to be said

["While nobodies watching right now that won't mean they won't be soon! As of this very moment I've been getting everything in order for when they are! Apologies Franky for not telling you sooner but I'm sure you'll be happy to know that we managed to earn enough donations to get this show renewed for ANOTHER SEASON!... Just barely at least..."

Franky's ears raised slightly hearing the last few words muttered quietly. Keeping the show running as well as all the expenses of the parkour palace had eaten up most of the money they were supposed to be saving up to renew the long canceled television show. He usually didn't concern himself with the finances but if it was affecting the chances of them getting what was once theirs it would soon become his issue as well.

["Heh, don't you worry your big ears about it! Just meet me in my office, we have some BIG things to discuss this new season, I'm thinking for a little shake up!"]

With directions being given, Franky scampered towards the other rabbit’s office, scrunching down here and there whenever he needed to go down an elevator or up stairs. He often wondered why he didn't have an office like Frankie did, did he merely not need one? He did run on electricity, at least his body did, so wouldn't it make more sense to give him some sorta special room where he could recharge instead of having to share a room with the other mascots? Was it that he didn't... Deserve one?

With a shake of his head he dismissed such a silly thought and he pressed on into one of the final areas of the little show they had crafted. A momentous attraction dubbed "Frankie's Frozen Peak" that was ripe to face the action of people attempting to reach the top. Sadly no one even made it past the first area, let alone this final one. Despite the rather grim decor he had been commanded to setup, not a single soul was ever able to bear witness to the various platforms, hazards, or the rising pink "slime" that were installed into the mountain. Franky didn't really care about the lack of use the mountain saw though, in fact the less people he had to deal with the better. The only thing he really paid attention to in the immediate area were the various cardboard cutouts placed along where people would line up to participate. The friendly smiling face of what he was modeled after and what a cartoon should look like followed him as he veered to the side and ignored the mountain, instead heading towards a staircase on the side. With a quick stretch of his hand to the very top, Franky let his stressed coil arm relax and skyrocket him upwards. The entire stairway shook once he landed on it, his heavy feet kicking up dust as he tilted his head towards the human sized door with a sign next to it reading "CEO OFFICE". It was a tight fit but he was more than adept at squeezing into tight spaces, with a contract of his springs he waddled over and opened the door to the office.

There awaiting him sat Frankie, his supposed brother and the one destined to eventually take the role as the host once this silly gameshow came to an end. While Franky himself looked rather unruly with rows of horrendous sharp teeth, a maw always partially agape, and accessories that consisted of old scrap metal with a sloppy, almost worn down paint coating them, Frankie had none of that. The once human was what the TV show Frankie was supposed to look like, pristine, cleanly, and friendly looking. The only real difference between the cartoon appearance of the magical rabbit and Frankie’s body was the fact that Frankie had these small beady eyes and while his was smaller than his own prototype body, it was still quite large unlike the tiny toon that was showcased everywhere. Once upon a time when Franky first awoke Frankie himself was human as he once was. His brains and nervous system wasn't exactly attuned to his body like they were now but he could still remember opening his eyes and through faded vision being greeted by a smile of his brother who welcomed him back into the world. His creation was what led to Frankie becoming as he was now, once he was created and subsequently Henry Hotline, Frankie perfected the process and ditched his old human self to become Frankie to take back the old TV show and renew his place as the host. Franky was aware once the TV show was renewed he would not be showcased in it, he wasn't perfect nor anywhere near as appealing looking as his brother, but being the main one who the cameras focused on when slaughtering the contestants was more than enough to satiate his desire for fame. After all he has 57 seasons worth of footage of him doing what he did best, and soon it was to be 58.

"FRANKY!" Frankie greeted as soon as he saw his brother's rustling limbs and head squeeze down the corridor "took ya long enough! Now take a seat because you may wanna sit down for this one"

Franky looked towards the wall and noticed a chair. Considering his torso was twice the size of it he silently rejected and stared back at his brother.

"...Okay that's perfectly okay—now DOWN TO BUSINESS!" Frankie reached down and from his desk he pulled out a file holding a stack of miscellaneous papers "we got a lot of ground to cover... A lot..."

Although Franky didn't know what was in the folder of the papers, the intensity of his brother's stare alerted him to something being off. The air grew thick and he felt unsettled to know that something changed his brother's usually cheery mood. If he was capable of sweating in his metallic body he would at the sudden light switch tone shift and feared the worse about their current show and the future renewal of the original. With a small raise of his hand he reached over, hoping to take a peek at what could possibly be considered "a lot".

FWHIP

Frankie had slammed the folder shut and leaned back "HA! No, no, no, no! You don't need to worry yourself about this!" Frankie opened it once more and sifted through the papers, his head moving with each scan of the contents "I wouldn't want you to get stressed with all this, after all I know how sloppy you can get when you're out of the zone, wouldn't want a repeat of season 26 would we!?"

Franky's hand went back into its resting position and a growl emerged from his mouth. It was his personal way of expressing subtle annoyance although it quickly subsided at the mention of season 26. The cries were something that stuck with the viewers even after all this time.

"That's what I thought, now as for what we gotta discuss–" Frankie picked up a piece of paper displaying a graph, one that had the direction one line steadily set in the red "things haven't been... Great with the gameshow and for the past 3 seasons we've had to dip into the savings just to keep this place up, running, and funded"

Franky let out another growl, this time one of worry. If they weren't profiting or bare minimum breaking even with each season that meant there would be no big Finding Frankie comeback. With how much they desired to get that show back it made him fear their dream would be out of reach.

“What I wanted to go over with you was the ratings regarding the past few seasons and why we are actively losing money, it seems here that nobody getting far becomes boring, honestly the fact that barely now it's starting to become repetitive is a miracle!" Frankie chuckled and waved his hands in the air "now we are running a gameshow here and while we certainly can't let anybody win there's at least gotta be players to play in it"

Franky didn't understand...

The mascot saw his brother's confusion and sighed, with a shake and roll of his head to mimick and eye roll Frankie spoke in a quieter, more serious tone "Listen, while I know you just loooovveee~ ripping the contestants to shreds or squishing them underneath your feet we gotta break even this time or else there may not only be no TV show, but there may be no gameshow or even parkour palace!" Frankie held his head as it spun around on his spring neck before stopping "All you gotta do is simply hold off until I give the signal, heck maybe at least let them meet Henry, I'm sure he's probably dying to chat with somebody that isn't over the phone."

Franky didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like the sound of that one bit.

His entire body vibrated in discomfort. The very idea of anything different being done made him unleash a guttural noise from the depths of his head that was lined with bolts. Springs of his emitted a rattling sound as they stretched out, his hands and feet pushing against the confines of the tiny room. It was his show, not Henry's, why would the audience care if the contestant met Henry or not!? It was bullshit on every degree and account, until they got the money HE should be the one with all the attention on him. This gameshow would be the only time he got the spotlight so why was it being stolen by the person who the show was named after—Oh wait! That's right! IT WASN'T! The shows named Finding Frankie! NOT FINDING HENRY FUCKING HOTLINE!

"FRANKY!"

Franky froze up. The heavy tone carried by the other rabbit made him feel like his entire body had spontaneously rusted. Although incapable of seeing any emotion other than a giant smile, he could feel the rage in those black dots that stared at him.

With Franky slowly retracting back Frankie sighed, releasing his anger at his brother "...listen, I know you love to kill but just this once let at least one live okay? Just long enough to give the audience false hope, donate some more, and then once we reach a goal you can do with him whatever you please" With a wag of his finger Frankie switched back to his energetic persona, speaking hoppy and jolly "we're running a game show here, we gotta at least showcase somebody actually running through a few obstacles right?! This isn't just some snuff livestream!" Frankie suddenly perked up and looked towards a printer that had a stack of cold papers in the output tray "well... At least it wasn't intended to be" Frankie reached over and looked at a few of them, each page lined head to toe with requests of donors. It was times like this the once-human wished he could grimace and not be held back by his wide smile "I'm pretty sure everyone who sends us some of these just wanna watch you kill people in different ways, pretty uhh... pretty disturbing stuff now that I think about it" he scratched his head seeing only a few of the very graphic descriptions "eugh... whatever—THIS IS A GAME SHOW AT THE END OF THE DAY!" Frankie tossed the papers and let them fly about in the air before turning to Franky one last time. With a shoo gesture he gave one last command "go tell Henry he'll be expected to actually chase a contestant this time around, maybe that could liven up that old sourpuss, last I saw he was letting the stress of that talk show of his get to him again”

Franky said nothing and did as he was told, crawling out through the small area he fell all the way to the floor of the mountain parkour area. The springs his legs consisted of broke his fall upon landing down, his torso bobbing for a few seconds absorbing the impact. As he made his way to Henry's local he couldn't help but feel... Robbed? Was robbed the right word? He didn't know, all he knew was that he didn't like this direction the show was going in if it meant he was going to get shelved. The people didn't want to see Henry, and they definitely didn't want to see some loser in a costume run about, they wanted him! They wanted Frankie—or at least who they believed to be Frankie. His name was pronounced the same and even if he wasn't the host Frankie, that title belonged to his brother, he was going to cherish every moment of attention he could get where the audience believed him to be the one and only. Just the thought of having to give up something that belonged to him made his body quake but he tried his hardest to not show any emotion, not wishing to risk having an outburst that could easily be recorded on one of the many CCTV cameras scattered about. He'd just tell the objecthead the plan and get ready for what attention he could garner by only killing 3 of the 4 contestants immediately.

"Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring! It's all they FREAKIN' DO!"

Franky came to a halt as he heard the familiar voice of the talkshow host lament his frustrations. He was only at the museum and was surprised to find Henry out of his household, the mascot just trying to exert the pain of his head constantly ringing. The monstrous rabbit couldn't help but watch the sad display before him, smelling the distinct scent of rot that filled the air from a few of the people who he had killed.

Henry stood with his back to him, preoccupied with using some of the blood of the past contestants to create a grim mural as a testament and hopefully message to all those that saw to stop calling in "why does Frankie gotta insist on playing reruns—actually better yet why do the MORONS that watch them call the number—WE AIN'T ON AIR! QUIT CALLING MY GOD DAMN PHONE!" Henry placed his hands on his receiver, repeatedly picking it up and slamming it back on the hook to hang up whoever was calling "AGH! If I could get my hands on that stupid rabbit and his STUPID FREAKIN' SMILE I'D–"

Henry turned around and was met with the sight of two springs extending upwards. The rabbit had approached him as he rambled on and upon looking up and seeing Franky face to face he felt his blood and oil run cold. Henry dropped the receiver he held and let it dangle off to the side by its cord, his pitch black eyes eyes fixated on nothing else other than the rows of large sharp teeth and black spheres with glowing circles on the center that the rabbit had. His limbs felt heavy as he took a step back and tried to speak, his once normal voice now broken revealing a nervous one overlaid with what sounded like dead air or static.

"F-Franky! How nice of you to stop by! What can I uhh... Do for you on this lovely day?"

Franky didn't respond. Instead his eyes "blinked", the blue light turning off and back on. With a slow look past the mascot he stared at the mural behind Henry, one made out of pain from simply serving his role. Henry's "eyes" followed the path Franky's took, landing on the crude drawing he made depicting him with the message "DON'T CALL" next to it.

"Oh that?... Uhh d-don't worry about that, I'll clean it up, I promise! I know Frankie leaves you in charge of decorating after all" Henry clasped his hands together, the blood smearing further over his glove-like hands "I didn't mean to make that mess I just... Just... I can't deal with this GOD FORSAKEN ringing anymore, you understand? Right?"

Henry's voice glitched again, going back to its previous tones as he surveyed Franky's eyes for any sign of sympathy. Instead all he saw were those cold lights staring back at him. With a raise of a giant "gloved" hand Henry soon began taking more steps back, the springy appendage coming near him.

"Woah! Woah! Hold on there Franky!" Henry felt his back touch the smooth surface of the wall, the dark blood smearing all over his suit "Listen I wasn't talking about you! It was your brother who I was mad at!"

Henry winced and shrunk under Franky's gaze. With a past memory playing back in his head where the rabbit had been commanded to hurt him, the telephone head covered his face in order to spare whatever damage would soon come. Franky's big hand approached closer by the moment and Henry could only imagine the worse, what if Frankie had heard him and commanded his monstrous sibling to teach him a lesson. What if the Deputy had put him up to it? That quacking AI was always looking for every excuse to lock him up and maybe this was the opportunity the duck was looking for. His mind raced with ideas of both what Franky would do to him or what set the beast off. The constant flip flop between thoughts made his head rattle and shake as if he was getting a call. The migraine he had a moment ago returned in full force and he fell to his knees, desperately grasping at himself to keep his head still and quiet down.

click

"Huh?"

Henry opened his eyes, the heavy weight of a hand was brought atop him but there was an odd sense of relief brought along with it. Instead of hitting him or using those hands to crush the plastic his face consisted of, Franky had reached down and fixed the receiver back on its hook. The rattling stopped and the talk show host sighed, relief filling him as Franky continued to look down at him. This time with the knowledge that the rabbit had no malicious intent or cause behind his surprise visit.

Truth be told Franky pitied his fellow part machine part man. Henry was the second creation made using the leftovers of another deceased person, another predecessor to what Frankie was and his perfection. The mascot head wasn't as hideous as he was, but he still suffered from the result of imperfection and ultimately being just a prototype. While the idea of a character whose head was a telephone was a good idea on paper and worked well in an animated format, sadly when that fictitious character became a reality he suffered from horrible pain from the nonstop calls he received. Each time anyone would call in on the hotline Henry would be forced to advertise on his show or press a button on the many rotary phones placed about the facility it would go directly to his head. Even if he was nowhere near the museum or household he could hear the ringing every night when he was charging. The ringing and attention had driven Henry mad and Franky wished for nothing more than to relieve him of the horrid sound and pain, to be able to take over his segment just so the object head could catch a break. Sadly he couldn't, instead all he could do was be there and hopefully provide him some solace.

"Franky... You gotta stop, you can't just scare me like that!”

Franky understandably knew where Henry was coming from and gave a small nod in response. Against his will back when Henry lashed out at a caller on his talk show Frankie had sicked him on the telephone and knew where the fear stemmed from. He couldn't fault him for thinking in such a way and recoiled his hand away, letting Henry catch his bearings before giving him the message.

"Err– thanks for hanging up for me" Henry stood up and dusted himself off, although still dirty he tried to maintain what the pristine color of his red suit should look like "Now did ya come all this way to meet with lil' ol' me or did the higher-up boss man send ya?"

Franky raised 2 fingers.

"Of course..." Henry made a sighing sound and pressed his blood stained fingers to the numbers on his head, repeatedly turning the metal dialer around he said "What is it now? I certainly didn't blow up at anyone last night nor do I think I did anything to make the big man mad" he looked back to his drawing and pointed at it "it wasn't for that... Was it?",

Franky shook his head and pointed to one of the turned off TVs. It was at this point Henry got the message, it was an all too familiar gesture signaling what soon would be the airing of a new season of the gameshow they starred in. Well, they all supposedly starred in it but it was only really Franky who did the dirty work of taking out contestants. This season was clearly different though, Franky pointed at him and Henry didn't know what to make of the gesture. The cogs in and wires in his brain started to turn and after staring into those glowing blue eyes of his mascot partner in crime it all clicked.

"Wait! Wait! Wait! No! ya don't mean that I–!?" Henry pointed at himself "But I thought you were the–" he turned his finger to Franky "I know I am using their bodies for paint but I don't–" Henry gestured to the bodies before finally letting his arms rest to his sides. With another sighing noise he looked upwards, hoping he was mistaken "You don't mean to tell me the boss wants me to actually participate in the show right? I thought you were supposed to kill 'em quick!”

Franky continued to point at Henry and gave another subtle nod. He didn't like the idea either but ultimately knew better than to get jealous, besides this would be a temporary break for the object head where he'd be free of the ever present ringing. Franky regretted thinking such harsh things earlier, seeing how Henry reacted it was clear he didn't intend to steal the spotlight in any way shape or form. The rabbit overall did enjoy his phone—associate? Friend? Brethren? Whatever he was—he found Henry not only somewhat humorous but a stark contrast to his brother. While he occasionally worried and was fearful of what Frankie would do, Henry was the complete opposite and actually feared him. Franky didn't exactly like being feared but he understood it, trying his best to appear friendly and to ease any nerves he caused to someone he never wished to harm again.

This friendly and relaxed attitude did help. Henry took a step past Franky and started to head out of the camera’s blindspot, watching closely as the rabbit tailed him "Well I can give it a shot but I wouldn't know what to actually do, it's just chasing them and trying to grab ‘em right?”

Franky stood still. That was essentially it at a first glance but there was a bit more complexity to killing in his book. There was a right and wrong time to do it, like when they are trying to run back out from whence they came and they are only a step away before you quickly grab them, yank them back, and watch as they scream as they watch the exit they were so close to get quickly farther and farther. It was small things like that that made killing a lot more than just “grabbing someone”.

“Honestly if it's as easy as you make it look then I'm sure I can put on a show that'll be close to what you're capable of” Henry stroked his phone as if he were slicking his hair back and nudged Franky’s springy legs “of course no one does it better than you big guy, honestly it may be better if I give them one little scare and BOOM! You can come out and finish ‘em!”

Franky immediately nodded at the suggestion, his head rocking so fast his spring made it bounce up and down a bit.

Henry gave a small chuckle at the rabbit’s enthusiasm and kicked a vent open “alrighty I guess that's settled, be seeing ya once we're on air then Franky”

With one final wave the objecthead departed and Franky finally calmed down, giving a wave as he watched his friend intently.

Was Henry truly his friend? It was very well established the object head did fear him to a certain degree but simultaneously Henry was the only one he felt truly comfortable with. He loved Frankie of course but sometimes he couldn't help but feel like he just wasn't his brother. As horrible as that was to say, certain moments made the rabbit consider he was wrong in one more way than he thought. He held no memories of what Franky was like when he was alive nor did he have any interest to have those memories. Franky, the original, would probably unconditionally do what he was told and not question the commands of someone that was family.

So why was it that he was questioning Frankie?

It didn't make any sense and he felt himself grasping at ideas in his head that would perhaps explain. Instead all that Franky could think of was what happened with Henry and the mural still on the wall. The demented drawing made from the deceased was a straight cry for help made because Henry was created with a massive flaw. Frankie surely didn't intend for Henry to be pained by the very shtick he was known for but why was it that he forced the telephone to do his show every single night? Why did he force Henry to continue pretending to want people to call in? The question that plagued him most of all and was what caused Henry to fear him in the first place was why did Frankie force him to punish Henry for rightfully getting mad once? It wouldn't have affected the show that drastically and it was a small mistake. Was it simply that he was in the wrong here? Were the begging words of Henry truly meant to be ignored and he was supposed to blindly carry out such a task without question? Franky didn't know. He felt like he probably didn't need to know. After all, with a new season coming on the air he should focus on getting things set up for the incoming contestants. Everything had to be perfect, and if it meant blindly following orders then so be it. It wasn't just about the TV show anymore, this was about Frankie and his desire for this entire gameshow to grow into what it originally was. To be so much bigger, better, so much more than they currently had.

#fanfic #fanfiction #finding frankie #finding frankie fanfic #real frankie #monster frankie #henry hotline #oc x canon #tw: death #tw: blood #F“F” AU

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blackjackkent · 8 months ago

Note

And more for the character meme to keep you occupied, haha. Pick whichever interest you.

Rasaad

Minsc

Shadowheart

Minthara

(“Send me a character” meme)

HOW ABOUT ALL OF THEM! \o/ :P

First impression

Rasaad: Once again, I'd first heard about him from @springagainafter 's posts about BG1/2 back in the day, so I already had good initial thoughts about him before actually meeting him for myself. My first encounter with him in-game, with Caden, was nice because he spends a lot of time talking about how he wants to bring light to people, which was good to hear after Caden had been having such a rough time of it with Gorion's death. He definitely struck me as a calm and measured sort of person with a level and meditative head.

Minsc: Pretty sure I loved Minsc instantly. :P In my BG1 liveblog I mentioned him being my favorite of the people Springy had talked about in her posts and I was very excited to get him and Dynaheir. He struck me as generally goofy and comic relief and I loved the way his dialogue was structured and how much character it gave him.

Shadowheart: As soon as I encountered her, a bunch of people commented on the liveblog post, "Oh yay you've met my wife!" So I knew there had to be something good there. :P She struck me as someone who was definitely hiding something, and seemed standoffish compared to Lae'zel's forthrightness, but I think I did like her right from the beginning and was curious to learn more about what her deal was.

Minthara: Lol I thought she was a scary bad guy and I was supposed to kill her, and so I did. :P I straight up didn't know there was another option until several weeks later; I was running Lab on stream last year and @morganaseren commented that she was gonna romance Minthara on an upcoming playthrough, and I went, "Wait, you mean the lady I just killed? You can do that?" XD

Impression now

Rasaad: He *is* level-headed and meditative... except when he's not, and then he's a mess. :P He's got a much more complex layer of darkness under the serious exterior, and he is capable of being super rash in pursuit of vengeance or self-sacrifice. I love him but he is definitely more of a chaos engine than he appears at first glance, and he needs a lot of hugs.

Minsc: My booooooy and his hamster. I love Minsc even more than I did previously; his relationship with Jaheira is wonderful and touching and both of them bring out interesting angles in each other. I love his enthusiasm and how much energy he brings into the party, and I am fascinated by the implications of his experience having been petrified for a century.

Shadowheart: A woman who has gone through a terrible process of systematic erasure of self and yet still manages to cling onto bits of herself regardless. The longer you talk to her the more you start to see bits of that true self poking through, and it's a person I very much like.

Minthara: Absolutely fascinating take on the tough soldier woman trope. I am deeply invested in the way that no matter how badass she seems, basically everything about her and how she operates is rooted in deep, visceral fear. I can't wait to do a romance run with her because I really want to know more about what's going on in her head.

Favorite moment

Rasaad: Hm. Probably the moment when he SHOUTS down Alorgoth in his personal quest in BG2. It's wonderfully voiced and a real moment of power after he's been doing a lot of soul-searching in the time leading up to it.

Minsc: Oh, man, this is a tough choice. :P I gotta say watching him crawl out of the mimic he kills from the inside with his bare hands in BG3 has got to be a high point. :P

Shadowheart: The night orchids! She has a lot of great moments, don't get me wrong, and this one seems like a small one, but I love how it displays her sentimentality and sense of humor in a way that can definitely take the PC by surprise, particularly if you get it in Act 2.

Minthara: "You see through my Minthara-mask, pretty little flesh thing. A joke - I am no more Orin than you are." My friend Minthara is the funniest person I know. ;)

Idea for a story

Rasaad: Once again I have about a billion random little ideas stored up regarding my ship between him and Jaheira. Off the top of my head - I wanna write something about him taking care of her after she comes back from a Harper mission all beat up. :)

Minsc: I think there is a lot to explore about his experience of being petrified, coming out of the petrification, reuniting with Jaheira, and any lingering aftereffects of the whole experience. There's no way it was completely without any effect on him, even though he certainly acts like he just shook it off.

Shadowheart: I have Thoughts drifting around about Shadowzel and what their first manifestations of "gentleness" in their relationship look like. I haven't exactly articulated a plan for them yet but I think there's a lot there to explore.

Minthara: Hm. Haven't actually considered much Minthara writing yet. I think ultimately she and Rakha might come to blows which could be very fun to write. XD

Unpopular opinion

Rasaad: I really don't know what qualifies as popular and unpopular when it comes to Rasaad bc I have not encountered anyone who talks about him besides me and Springy. XD Maybe the fact that I think he does loosen up a little and start learning (awkwardly) how to joke by the time he and Jaheira are old together. XD IDK.

Minsc: I am of the general opinion that Minsc also has a lot more depth than he lets on. I think his usual jovial ferocity is completely sincere - but he definitely has his moments of wisdom when the situation calls for it, he's devastatingly loyal, and I think he does a lot more thinking (albeit via discussion with Boo) than one would assume.

Shadowheart: Honestly not sure about this one? IDK that any of my opinions about her are particularly off the beaten path. Maybe that I don't think she should be friends with Scratch and Buddy (the owlbear) right off the bat since they are wolf-adjacent and might make her nervous?

Minthara: Again, not really sure I stray too far off the beaten path with her. Honestly having a lot of trouble coming up with anything here. (Presumably I'll think of something after I post. XD )

Favorite relationship

Rasaad: Jaheira! My rarepair. <3 I also really loved him and Minsc and Khalid and Caden being a buddy group during BG1 and SoD.

Minsc: His friendship with Jaheira gives me life. And I love his wychlaran relationship with Aerie. Honestly, though, I think no one has ever fully equaled Dynaheir in his eyes, nor ever will. I don't really have a romantic ship for him; I think he certainly knows what sex and romance is and is glad for his friends who are happy together but it just isn't really top of mind for himself. He bonds with people in other ways.

Shadowheart: Once again - yeah, yeah, I'm a Shadowzel simp. :P I really just think their stories parallel and contrast each other so well compared to any other possible pairing for them.

Minthara: Hm. With my Tav who I'll eventually do an evil run with. XD Of the canon characters... idk, I heard someone talk about Minthara/Karlach in the past and I was mildly intrigued by it. Karlach is basically the only companion Minthara speaks highly of right from the beginning, and I think Karlach could teach her a lot about living in the moment and moving past her fear of obsolescence and death. And Karlach does deserve a lover who would rip throats out like a guard dog for her. :P

Favorite headcanon

Rasaad: Hm. I've developed a lot of headcanons for him in recent months (wonder who's responsible for helping with that :P ). Hard to pick one. I do enjoy the stuff we came up with around his wedding with Jaheira - super sweet Selunite ceremony under the stars, followed by all of their friends getting turnt while they slip off for their own time. XD

Minsc: Minsc gets released from his wychlaran pact with Aerie when she and Caden go to settle down in Faenya-Dail, but he still feels himself very attached to her (I don't think he ever fully believes the bond can go away completely) and is similarly attached to Quayle as Aerie (and Caden)'s kid. He always brings a gift for Quayle when he comes to Faenya-Dail (and Quayle is devastated when for stone-related reasons he stops coming, and delighted to learn he's still alive many years later).

Shadowheart: I think Shadowheart never becomes a fully committed Selunite no matter what the outcomes of her personal quest. I think there's a lot of value in the fact that she has the freedom to choose her own course after breaking from Shar, and while I think she values elements of the Selunite faith (and explores many others), her spirituality going forward is a lot more nuanced and never reaches the same level of fervor again.

Minthara: I haven't spent a lot of time headcanoning about Minthara. But let's see. She has a number of lines indicating that she actually really likes Scratch, so I think secretly when no one is looking she plays fetch with him in the middle of the night, when it's dark and comfortable for her.

#ask meme #astreamofstars #whew this one took a while so thanks indeed for keeping me occupied :D

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7grandmel · 2 years ago

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Todays rip: 06/10/2023

We Are Number 4 (Golden)

Season 4 Episode 2 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume V

Ripped by NutellaFrenchToast

youtube

Out of all frequently occuring memes on the channel, its arguable that We Are Number One (typically shortened to "WANO") is one of the most perfectly refined on the channel. In my posts on Chillin’ Like A Villain and The expanse of meme in past was split, A fiendish trap has now been set; Behind a tree the villains sit, Terror of sport, the Robbie's Net., I elaborated on just how that quality has come to be: the people behind the original LazyTown song provided the public will full access to its original stems, which led to a huge uptick in quality. The bar of quality has become so high for WANO rips on SiIvaGunner to where each new one feels worthy of celebration, its always executed just so perfectly. Even with that, We Are Number 4 (Golden) sits with me as one of the most fun examples in the channel's history.

The concept is simple and immediately understandable - arranging Time To Make History from Persona 4 Golden into We Are Number One's silly ska-like musical style and instrumentation. Both songs are so infectiously gleeful and its a near perfect mesh from the get-go, but like a lot of my other favorite rips on the channel, the real sell comes in the details. Details of the original song are given flourishes that fit the context of a Persona game throughout its runtime, like replacing "Superhero" with "SuPERSONA", or the springy net-toss sound from the original being replaced by the sound of a character receiving lowered stats. It rounds the song out in such fun ways and almost makes it sound as if the Robbie Rotten party are actually in a Persona 4 dungeon fighting - which makes the idea of this being their battle theme even funnier.

That's of course not to say that its a rip sold purely on its details - the instrumentation's usage in replicating the original Time To Make History is simply perfect, and the slight pitch changes in Robbie's vocal performance work to still maintain the original song's tone. The song's climax in particular is immensely satisfying - Robbie's vocals gradually climb in pitch with deliberate pauses inbetween them specifically done to imitate the original song, and yet it doesn't come off as artificial in the slightest - its a damn seamless effort for being so noticeably different from the original vocal performance.

So: to Nutella French Toast, and to everyone else who keep the WANO spirit alive with rips all at this quality - you're absolute titans of the SiIvaGunner team and I personally cherish every single new WANO rip more than the last.

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rundna · 7 months ago

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Rip Up the Track with the Mizuno Wave Rider 28

Crikey! Let's get stuck into the Mizuno Wave Rider 28 – the shoe that's got Aussie runners going bonkers! This isn't your average pair of runners, mate. We're diving deep into what makes these kicks so popular, exploring the tech, and comparing them to their predecessors. Let's lace 'em up and get cracking!

What's the Buzz About Mizuno Wave Riders?

The Mizuno Wave Rider has been a top choice for Aussie runners for yonks, and for good reason. It's a ripper of a shoe, striking that sweet spot between cushioning, responsiveness, and durability. It's a bloody versatile shoe, perfect for a whole heap of training scenarios.

Why Are Mizuno Wave Riders Such a Hit?

These beauties are absolute legends for everyday training, long runs, speedwork – you name it! The cushioning and responsiveness give you a smooth, comfy ride, no matter the distance or terrain. Whether you're pounding the pavement or tackling the trails, the Mizuno Wave Rider's got your back (or should we say, your feet?).

Let's Have a Squizz at the Mizuno Wave 28 Plate

Now for the good stuff: the Mizuno Wave Rider 28 and its star feature – the Wave 28 plate. This clever bit of tech is designed to seriously boost stability, responsiveness, and overall performance. Mizuno has really pulled a cracker with this one, creating a seriously dynamic and supportive feel with every stride.

Mizuno Wave Rider 27 vs. 28: What's the Difference?

The Mizuno Wave Rider 27 was already a champion shoe, offering brilliant cushioning, support, and versatility. But the Wave Rider 28? It's a whole new ball game. The improvements are seriously noticeable – better responsiveness, better stability, and a generally better performance. That Wave 28 plate is a game-changer, making the 28 a real standout.

Design and Materials: A Closer Look

Let's get down to the nitty-gritty. The Mizuno Wave Rider 28 boasts a breathable engineered mesh upper. This keeps your feet cool and comfy, even on a stinking hot day. The upper is designed for a snug, secure fit, so no annoying slippage or rubbing. The midsole uses Mizuno's Enerzy foam – it's unbelievably plush and responsive, giving you a smooth, comfy ride while still providing that springy feel for faster paces. The outsole uses durable rubber for excellent traction and grip, no matter the surface. The Wave plate itself is lightweight yet sturdy, offering both support and flexibility. The whole design is sleek and stylish – perfect for training and everyday wear.

Where to Find Your Perfect Pair

You can find the Mizuno Wave Rider 28 at a stack of running shoe stores across Australia. Head to your local running specialist for the best fit and advice. They'll help you find the perfect pair.

In a Nutshell

The Mizuno Wave Rider 28 is a top-shelf running shoe that combines comfort, performance, and seriously clever technology. Whether you're a seasoned runner or just starting out, these shoes are a bloody good choice for all your training needs. The improvements in the 28, especially that Wave 28 plate and the updated Enerzy foam, make it a real winner. So, grab a pair and experience the difference! Your feet will be thanking you. Fair dinkum!

#running #runningshoes #runningaustralia #mizuno #mizunowaverider #mizunowaverider28

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fromdevcom · 9 months ago

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With continuous advance in Internet technology, the web master requires simple tools to enable the publication of data visualization through web browsers on various platforms. As the user-interface requires a lot of visualization for unleashing the full potential, along with another programming, JavaScript is rapidly becoming popular with programmers for interactive visualization that is embedded in the websites. There are many graph visualization library JavaScript ready for use that is faster, flexible and reliable. Some of the best available for users are described below: Vis.js Developed by a Dutch research firm, this library is programmed to operate on a large number of desktops as well as mobile browsers, including full touch support. In addition to that, this library supports various edge or network graphs, 2D as well as 3D charts and auto-clustering Cytoscape.js Developed via NIH grants, this interactive library has been written in pure JS and is highly optimized for users. It’s fully compatible with all Internet browsers as well as platforms such as mobile and desktop. The JavaScript InfoVis Toolkit Jit or JavaScript InfoVis Toolkit can be broadly described as a multi-purpose, interactive graph drawing and layout framework that offers easily accessed tools for interactive Data Visualization for the Internet. The toolkit has various advanced features such as TreeMaps and Hyperbolic Trees. D3js D3.js can be broadly defined as the JavaScript Library that can be used for manipulation of documents based on data. It enables the user to utilize full capabilities of the Internet browser without any collaboration, with any proprietary framework with powerful combination of visual components as well as data-driven approach. Plotly's JS Plotly's is one of the comprehensive suites that offer data collaboration as well as visualization tools for software engineers. The main function of this library is to make scientific graphing in any browser. Sigma.js Sigma.js is one of most lightweight yet powerful Graph Visualization Library JavaScript that is widely used for drawing graphs. With this library, it is easy to publicize the network on the Internet as it becomes easy to integrate the latest features of network exploration in any web application. JsPlumb Built with jsPlumb, the open-source project combines many years of experience about how to build any application quickly. It offers various features such as declarative connectivity, based on various standards and allows the seamless integration of mobile devices. Furthermore, it also offers advanced UI features that are required for quick building of any application. Springy Springy can be defined as the force that is directed to graph layout algorithms. Furthermore, this library uses real physics for improvement in the network graph’s appearance. This is a small but simple library that offers a platform for graph manipulation as well as calculation of the layout. Processing.js Sister project of the widely known Processing visual programming language, this library has been designed for Internet browsers. This library enables the user to use various features such as digital art, data visualization, educational graphs, interactive animations, video games and so on without the requirement of any plug-in. JS Graph It This library offers easy programming with drag and drop boxes that are connected by straight lines. One of the most simple and minimal programs, this library offers a simple auto layout of lines. RaphaelJS's Graffle One of the most simple and interactive Libraries, it offers the best examples of any generic multi-purpose vector drawing library. However, there is one drawback as it is unable to layout automatic nodes. JointJS Core Developed by David Durman, this Graph Visualization Library is mainly used in creation of a fully interactive application as well as diagramming tools or static diagrams as per requirement. HighCharts This is mainly a charting library that is written in pure JavaScript language. Based on SVG, the library also supports older browsers.

GoJS This is a feature-rich library that enables users to implement various interactive diagrams across the platforms as well as web browsers. The construction of complex node diagrams becomes very easy with customized layouts and templates. YFiles For HTML This commercial library offers various advanced features such as UI controls that can be used for viewing as well as editing unequaled layout algorithms as well as diagrams with one click. MxGraph This is one of the leading commercial libraries that offer full support to all Internet browsers across platforms, including older browsers. KeyLines This is one of the best network visualization toolkits that enable the user to understand the connections, patterns as well as trends that are obscure or hidden. Data Visualization Software Lab This is one of the best commercial visualization libraries that offer high performance, fast speed across all platforms and touch interface devices. Hope you find these libraries useful for analyzing complex graphs.

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enbypotat53 · 8 months ago

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Part two!

(SPOILERS YET AGAIN!)

Moving on to.. the afterlife? Inside Mephone?? (Where the hell is this place again??)

Anyways, I'm gonna be focusing more on the area/main storyline here - ships'll come later, promise :)

Starting off with these scenes! OJ, the season 1 winner, surrounded by all the challenge items - they're ultimately what MADE the show in a way. The zany challenge ideas, the competitors, the winner?? Those are parts of ANY good game show, right?

Yet he looks so regretful. So hurt. The show was ultimately what cost him his life; his friendships. Paper resented OJ for always focusing on himself and never crediting Paper for his hard work around the hotel. Taco betrayed him and their other friends just for a chance of getting the million. Marshmallow was ultimately right - the show DOES cause others to lose sight of themselves. And I think OJ is starting to realise that.

We also get a glimpse of Springy! I guess my theory of him being created by Mephone WAS correct! We never actually see him again after this though - was he just too defective to be recovered?? Or was he not deleted recently enough? Makes ya think, huh..

I also wanted to note on Knife/Paper's discussion here - I know I said I wouldn't get into relationships much here, but.. "I don't need you to protect me"/"Neither does anyone apparently"??

IS HE ALLUDING TO SUITCASE?? FUCK, MAN.. he really took that to heart..

Now onto Box and Suitcase! It seems we finally got an answer about the ocean hallucinations

(As a sidenote, I don't know what pronouns Box uses - everyone referred to them as "him" throughout the show, but I assume that was mainly due to them being inanimate and no one really knowing. Due to them having a mostly androgynous voice and (as far as I know) no one referring to them by any particular pronouns, I'm just gonna use they/them for now.)

Box being alive was something I kinda called from the start, but damn did their backstory get me. "I never learned how to swim"?? Their assumption that the other auditioners left them to die?? They seem so reserved yet resentful, and I think they're still angry about the idea that Mephone continued the show whilst using their corpse as a gag. I assume it's a lot different to Mephone - he seemed to be genuinely upset that they drowned, and he may have been trying to include them any way he could (ESPECIALLY since he couldn't recreate them perfectly - a nice nod to the fact that he wasn't all-there yet with the generation powers.)

We also finally know Bow/Dough's tail story! Although we never see the recommended characters in the mansion, I assume they're still there, so hey! New friends for the ghost crew!

I also find it interesting how the revival process works - it's a race against time, kinda how like in real life, recently deleted items usually only get 30 days before they're permanently gone (or you can choose to delete them earlier, sorta like what's happening here.) Does this mean Springy is a ghost?

Moving onto Knife and 4S! I'm honestly glad to see that 4S got his own form of conclusion - he realised that his anger wasn't a flaw, and that it could be channelled into helping others. I like that. It's a good message - don't change yourself to fit the "perfect" mould, but instead think of all the ways your qualities can be used. Even if they initially seem undesirable, they may ultimately be what's needed in a situation (which is very true in this case - Knife's initial throwaway gag of an idea to use the Picknix table to create weapons was ultimately what ended up defeating Cobs!)

Plus, just.. I'm glad they touched on Knife's fears - I picked this up in episode 17, but his fear of death? His regrets about killing Marshmallow? His realisation of how serious this all is now, and how it just. Hits him? Mwah. Chef's kiss. It's SO interesting to see how the murderer-turned-softie suddenly realises how much worse it could've been if Mephone couldn't recover everyone. How he was (literally) playing with death for his amusement, not fully understanding the gravity of his actions until it's too late to change them. Knife is such a well-written character, and I ADORE his arc.

As a final note - LOOK HOW HAPPY MEPHONE IS TO SEE EVERYONE?? HE CARES ABOUT THEM SO MUCH OH MY GOD 💙💙

Suitcase's monologue is so damn empowering too, but it's also so funny to see her reuse Mephone's "any questions??" line 😭💙 god, I love her.

(Next up will be the final scenes and the concert! :D)

OKAY so I just spent an hour collecting screenshots, time for the analysis!

(AS ALWAYS, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR INANIMATE INSANITY EPISODE 18 UNDER CUT!!!)

So I'll be tackling this like the episode 17 analysis, breaking it up into parts (except probably many, MANY more parts), but I'll start with Inanimate Island! (This won't be chronological, mostly just a by-area thing!)

And by god, do we start off strong. AN ANTHONY KOS SONG RIGHT OUT OF THE GATE?? HOLY SHIT.

Mephone thinking back on everything, his regrets about how he treated the contestants, his fears.. just. Wow. STRONG opening. (Also his little infodump to Mepad whilst they're still asleep/booting up, me too bud. Me too.)

Gotta admit I got choked up as soon as we started, both from built-up emotions whilst waiting, and just.. how powerful this was?? He cares SO damn much about the contestants, and Cobs destroyed EVERYTHING. This was his life, his escape (and we'll get to that later). Jesus, dude.

SPEAKING OF.

FUCK THIS GUY.

Holy SHIT did Joshua Waters do a phenominal job voicing him. I don't know if I've said it before but the II crew did SO good when they recast Cobs. Genuinely I don't think I could've asked for anyone better - you KNOW a VA is great when they can make you feel PHYSICAL RAGE just by saying their lines, y'know? When I first saw the trailer I had to actually take a break because I felt sick to my stomach just HEARING how this fuckass corn cob speaks to Mephone. His frequent infantalisation (both of Mephone, the contestants, the creatorbots, AND the viewers), and his manipulation, just.. eugh. He's probably the most well-written villain I've seen in a WHILE. AND HE'S SO PATHETIC?? He's a disgusting manchild who abuses his creations because it's the only semblance of power he'll get, and IT'S GREAT. I HATE HIM (/POS).

And ngl the self aware "it's good, just don't watch S1" gag made me choke on my lucozade, so thanks AE.

AND HOLY SHIT?? MEPHONE ACTUALLY FINDS HIS VOICE AND REBELS?? I'M SO PROUD OF HIM 😭💙

Again, more of Cobs being an asshole, but bless the Shimmers - they were so damn naïve, I'm glad they were warned and managed to get away, they just wanted their child back, man :(

NOW ONTO THE SCENE THAT MADE ME AUDIBLY SCREAM AND PUNCH MY BEDROOM WALL.

THEY KILLED MY BOY. MY BABY BOY.

Fun fact: I sent this message to a friend 2 hours before the episode dropped

Yeah I'm not okay.

Not gonna lie, I had a feeling it might've gone this way but I was PRAYING it didn't. Fuck, man.. Mepad is one of my absolute favourites for a multitude of reasons - he loves the contestants with all his heart, he'd do ANYTHING to protect them, and even though we could see how angry he was at Mephone in episode 17, he still gave his life to save him (and by extension, everyone else). He's a goddamn hero, but I wish he didn't have to die (and yes, I will be drawing fanart to cope). Glad he had a moment to be a badass though, Mepad is the living equivalent of "when the calm one gets mad, you know shit's about to hit the fan" and I love him for that 💙

ALSO LOOK HOW DISTRAUGHT TACO LOOKS?? MY BABY GIRL NO 😭😭😭

You could tell how much she cared about Mepad, and their friendship was SO important to me. I'll touch on this later but end song hurt my soul, ngl

AND WE OF COURSE HAVE COBS' DEATH.

So 10 image per post limit on the app fucked me over yet again, but I wanted to also briefly talk about Toilet so no popcorn image :(

I honestly think this death was so damn fitting for Cobs. It simultaneously feels dramatic, yet so utterly pathetic. It doesn't take itself too seriously, yet it's so built up and suspenseful - this is the moment we've ALL been waiting for. Seeing this bastard get his comeuppance. And to see his demise be a consequence of his vanity? He believed himself to be above everyone - he placed himself on a golden pedestal, thinking himself to be untouchable; he never would've believed he'd fall for such a simple illusion from "feeble minds", yet he did. He's a washed up old hack, through and through. All that grandeur? Just a façade. And honestly? The popcorn scene was so damn funny. Suitcase just casually offering Mephone a part of his father's cooked corpse had me cackling like a madman, it makes Cobs seem even more pathetic than he already was; reduced to a soft, delicate, utterly flavourless food that (if we're thinking about real-life movie theatres and how much popcorn people leave on the floor) is commonly stepped all over by everyone around. He remains in death how he always was in life.

(As always this'll be part one of the analysis, so strap in, folks! This'll be a long one!)

#inanimate insanity #ii spoilers #inanimate insanity spoilers #ii 18 #ii 18 spoilers #ii 2 #ii2 spoilers #ii season 2 #inanimate insanity season 2 #ii movie spoilers #ii movie

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the-arcade-doctor · 2 years ago

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more info on the springy archive project: Springy And The Galaxy Gears was a video game produced by [REDACTED] after his comic line took off in ????. In this game, you play as Springy, a sentient coil infused with Boundium, a material that gives whatever it latches onto a LOT of elasticity, whose goal is to stop the evil William B Malicious, AKA The Mechanic from getting all of the Galaxy Gears, powerful relics from The Clock Tower of the universe, each of them are guarded by a Gear Guardian.

#“and i said ”Sonic? I barely know him!“#jehehehehe #unreality #sadly #springy's not a real game yet

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definitely-not-samayoi · 2 years ago

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Aaand the last one! If anyone decides to read this – thank you <3

You can find the full thing on ao3:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Sotenbori was much smaller than Kamurocho, but its nights were just as restless, filled with neon lights, voices, and alcohol. Majima hated Sotenbori with all his being – and the city paid him back in kind. He did not let him go, watching Majima day and night through the gaps in the windows and through the eyes of the street hustlers. Sotenbori was his prison cell. Saejima must have laughed at that comparison.

Majima returned to his squalid shack only after midnight just to have a quick wash and collapse on a thin futon, through which he could clearly feel every unevenness on the floor. His customers must not have believed that the King of the Night, the manager of the most popular cabaret in Sotenbori, barely made ends meet. However, the filthy rich men, who spent as much every night on booze and girls as Majima's entire life was worth, could hardly care less about his existence outside the cabaret walls.

Almost every night Majima had similar dreams, and God knows they were hardly better than his reality.

Green. Everywhere Majima looked, there was only a wall of bamboo around. Majima ran, springy branches whipping him until he bled, but he didn't stop. He searched – searched for the one he loved more than his life.

And finally – the familiar yet foreign blue haori with torn sleeves. The strong, tanned hands of the man he did not know and knew better than anyone else in the world.

"Saejima," Majima called softly. “Taiga.”

Hirama turned around and looked at him the way only Saejima did: as if he was confessing his love without saying a word.

Majima reached out to him, distantly noticing how his hand was trembling. He desperately tried to reach, but Saejima was only moving farther away, countless stalks of bamboo hiding him from Majima's gaze, the blue haori lost among the green sea, and...

“No..!”

With the last of his strength, Majima grabbed Saejima's hand – warm and strong, just like in reality. His fingers stiffened in a death grip. A single thought raced through his mind: don't let go. Never let go.

Majima jumped up on his futon, his eyes wide and breathing heavily. The awakening hit him with a ruthless realization – Saejima was gone. Twenty five years. As long as Saejima had already lived in the world.

Those dreams were the only thing that made him believe. Somewhere far away, Saejima must have had such dreams too, and if Majima couldn't see him, at least Hirayama could.

Smiling weakly, Majima pressed his hand to his chest, as if it still held Saejima's warmth.

One day he will definitely feel his real touch again.

#yakuza #majima goro #saejima taiga #saemaji #like a dragon ishin #ryu ga gotoku #nagakura shinpachi #okita souji #ficlet #rgg #yakuza fic #yakuza fanfic #like a dragon #goro majima #yakuza majima #my fic #taiga saejima #yakuza ishin

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the-guardian-of-magic · 5 years ago

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lame AU Main story WİP cuz why the hell not

-Sarah finds Eleanor, instead of using and killing Sarah, Eleanor wants help from her to find other Animatronics from the old Pizzaria.

-Greg breaks into the old Pizzaria and finds Fetch, same events as the books but Greg runs away from his home to “keep his family safe” and Fetch gets him to Eleanor.

-Oswald breaks into the Pizzaria, he ends up finding PitTrap in the ballpit. There’s some extra events too, but the main thing is Oswald’s dad and mom dissapears and PitTrap takes their place and no one notices. Oswald runs away to get help and Greg and Fetch finds him.

-Eleanor wants Oswald to talk about PitTrap, and she mistakes him for SpringTrap for a while. Then PitTrap also joins them after more events.

-Millie climbs in FunTime Freddy, same events in the books happens but Millie survives. Millie tells her Grandpa what happened and he immediately goes to the garage to see Freddy. However Freddy already ran away from the garage- Millie goes back to her normal life and copes with her trauma with her Grandpa’s help becouse she thinks therapist wouldn’t belive them.

-FunTime Freddy goes back to the Pizzaria, a few more events happens and he ends up with a major damage- Eleanor and others end up finding him.

-Again, Eleanor and others ends up finding Millie and her Grandpa and basically they start getting along-

-In this part, the story cuts to Matt while others start living together and basically getting along- Matt is developing SpringTrap’s Revenge game alone after 3 other people who worked on it and came up with the idea of the game died from unknown reasons. Matt doesn’t knows Freddy Fazbear’s pizza is a real place or SpringTrap is actually alive yet- he just thinks it’s another cheap horror game.

-Matt notices the game has some glitches. SpringTrap doesn’t moves like how he’s supposed to be, appears in places he souldn’t and stuff like that.

-Matt notices a major glitch in the game- SpringTrap is not moving- he’s just,,,, lying in the ground almost looking lifeless. SpringTrap originally plans to kill him like how he did to others but then he changes his mind- he plans to go back to real world with using Matt’s body instead.

-Matt tries to fix SpringTrap, SpringTrap puts a curse on him at the moment he touches him and you know the rest- but SpringTrap’s plan fails and he just ends up creating a copy of himself. (AKA where FleshTrap is born)

-SpringTrap does, breaks into reality tho but only as a spirit for now. He keeps Matt alive when he cut FleshTrap out of his body.

-Matt runs away to solve what the hell is going on by himself and leaves FleshTrap behind- however Springy’s spirit helps him follow Matt.

-Matt meets Eleanor after a few more events- Matt tells about what happened and Eleanor says “o fuck SpringTrap’s back” and they accept Matt in-

-Millie and Sarah hear a strange baby crying noise outside and check it- they end up finding FleshTrap and notice how it looked like the baby Matt was talking about.

-Matt (for obvious reasons) doesn’t accepts the baby at first but Eleanor and others calm him down (they don’t know SpringTrap’s spirit is around the baby yet) and Matt starts acting like a father after a while.

-SpringTrap finds his old suit (ScrapTrap) and possesses it and starts watching Matt with a real body now- he eventually ends up giving Matt paranoia.

-Eleanor and others notice Matt’s paranoia, Fetch also starts barking at dark rooms and windows, acting like he saw something dangerous- They eventually find Springy with Fetch and Greg’s help.

-Eleanor gets protective over everyone- especially over Matt. But SpringTrap still needs to stay close to Matt becouse his spirit is still keeping Matt alive.

MORE WİLL BE ADDED WİTH TİME. DON’T FORGET İT’S A WİP.

So anyways what’cha think

#fnaf #fnaf sarah #fnaf eleanor #fnaf greg #fnaf fetch #fnaf pittrap #fnaf oswald #fnaf millie #fnaf matt #fnaf springtrap #fnaf fleshtrap #fnaf to be beautiful #fnaf into the pit #fnaf count the ways #fnaf in the flesh #fnaf au #au #wip

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henriiiii-1001old · 4 years ago

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rambling pt 10(?) - fnaf world

a i g h t rambling time bc fuck it i wanna talk more fvgbhnjm

i’m just gonna copy and paste some hcs abt this concept bc it’s LONG and i’m too lazy to type anything (i will be making adjustments to some of the copied messages bc i’m picky xdd)

loooong hcs down below

categories: william’s first visit william’s second/permanent visit chica’s magic rainbow/end of michael’s tyranny omc and william’s family fredbear and springbonnie

William’s first visit

i have made an official hc a while back that fnaf world is kind of the equivelent of the underworld from greek mythology. everyone who dies goes there, no matter if you have been good or bad. they separate you into different areas of fnaf world depending on how good or bad you have been. upper floor/animtronica is good people, 4th level is the worst people.. at least it should have been that way but someone else went into power of fnaf world.

soooo after the fire in ffps, william ends up here along with charlie, elizabeth, kathryn (william's wife), two fazbear employees (mike schmidt and fritz smith), and michael (who calls himself mk even though mk is still alive :/). thing is everyone is separated throughout, and william first appears in the plains part (the green thing in the world? i don't remember the names of the places qwq). he and the other missing children (who have been there since the year prior to the ffps fire) head off to find everyone else. it's basically fnaf world version 1. so he's found everyone except for michael. where does he find him? where you're supposed to be fighting animdude (i will explain this in the next part because i don't want this to be too long) sooo william defeats michael and in my au, michael's like, self proclaimed king, so he's got like his own mini castle which have portals to different dimensions and timelines. william sneaks into the castle and finds the portal back to his timeline and dips aaaaaand then vr happens but i'm gonna skip that because we need to cut to the juicy part.

William’s second/permanent visit

the second time he gets here is after something going on in sb (yes ik it's stupid to have hcs before a game comes out, but idc they just came man qwq) where [SPOILERS HERE I DON’T WANNA EXPLAIN YET >:(((( i will be referring to a specific character as vivi tho bc why not] and they both now end up in fnaf world. william is reeaaallly salty he officially died again and vivi is freaking the fuck out. and guess who comes into the scene. fucking michael. he introduces himself to vivi as mk, but vivi actually knows who mk really is, and michael just makes it seem like mk was a liar (vivi obviously doesn't believe that tho. william on the other hand... yeah xddd). now all of a sudden, michael sees vivi's soul is FULL of remnant (side note here: souls cannot hold remnant by themselves in the living world and it must be removed. they can hold it in fnaf world though since the world is made from remnant, but they lose it slowly overtime. michael thinks he can extract the remnant from souls in fnaf world though and he thought when william came back he'd have a lot, but as william was stuck with vivi after vr, most, if not all, of his remnant transferred over to her). aaaand william actually tries to defend her saying "fuck you", taking vivi, and booking it out of there. uuhhh that's all i got for now. ig it's kind of like version 2 of the game because you get animdude as a playable character in that version, and the two are trying to find him so power could be restored in fnaf world

Chica’s Magic Rainbow/End of Michael’s tyranny

you guys remember the bitch chica's magic rainbow? uuuuh yeah that's vivi. here she was manipulated (and kind of mind controlled??) by king michael (the bitch majesty himself uwu) to help him take down william and make him suffer like he's supposed to. thing is, before the fight william and vivi found animdude, the actual caretaker of fnaf world and is kind of like god ig, so animdude helps william fight king michael and chica's michael’s magic rainbow. michael loses and vivi kind of... dies? she just gets knocked out really if anything but she wakes up just fine. animdude takes his place back as the caretaker, michael is sent to fnaf world's version of purgatory, and william is sent to his own personal hell (don't worry he isn't a bitch abt it like he'd usually be xddd) and william's personal hell is a challenge that he is supposed to die over and over again and never win (guarded and managed by cassidy), but if he wins at least one night of hell, he will be able to roam fnaf world freely (he was given this "if" situation since he helped animdude take back fnaf world. it was like a "thank you, but still get fucked" thing ya know?)

OMC and William’s family

so um.. omc’s not really that developed as a character, but what i can tell you is that either he's just only gonna be william's dad or there could possibly be two old ppl consequences and it's probably gonna be both his parents. when they died they at first inhabited the first sublevel of fnaf world where the "you were pretty good in life" people go, but when michael took over fnaf world and claimed himself king, he moved whoever was in the fourth layer to the third causing a lot of overcrowding, and put william's parents and older sister down there to wait for william to come so they could be his personal tormentors later on. amelia, william's sister, was of course wanting revenge, and she sat at the bottom of the lake, her spirit changing to adapt to the environment around her since her regular spirit form cannot survive underwater (also i just came up with this now, but the more you travel the sublevels downward, the more your spirit changes to adapt to the environment around it. those in the fourth layer get morphed the worst since the worst people are supposed to be down there). william's parents on the other hand, cherry afton and idk what the dad's name is gonna be yet so i'll just call him omc, do not want to do this since they don't know about anything he's done other than kill his sister (he would've gone to the third layer if he only killed her but.. that didn't happen :/). they do get out of the fourth layer eventually, but the fourth layer changes spirits forms extremely quickly so the people down there can suffer for eternity for longer since the changing of a spirit's form is extremely painful. so what ended up happening is that amelia ends up as a deformed siren who cannot survive on land, omc is a literal crocodile, and idk what i wanna do w/ cherry yet :/

Fredbear and Springbonnie

soooo my henry and william are as follows in terms of personality: william: bitchy bitch, child life nabber, hates his kids (except michael), springy boi kinnie, furry, g a e a s h e l l henry: baby boy, poor man who needs therapy, loves kids and adopted three idiots later in life, fredbear kinnie, maybe a furry, g a e as well but if you switch their personalities, that's fnaf world fredbear and springbonnie. fredbear acts EXTREMELY william-like and it even creeps out william himself. like.. william kinda gets a redemption arc while he's fighting his dead antihero son king michael bc through fredbear, he sees how fucked up he was as a person (doesn’t excuse his actions though *spits on him*). he also learns bc vivi basically turns into his therapist ig xddd william takes two full trips through fnaf world, first time fredbear was his mentor, telling him to "find the clocks" and all that shit. but the second time, it was actually spring bonnie, helping him and vivi stay out of king michael’s sight and help them find animdude. he got to see both sides of both characters during his two trips. fredbear and spring both have a happy-go-lucky side, but they both have darker, deeper, more real sides to them that reflect into the real world.

#fnaf #fnaf world #long post #william afton #vivi #fredbear #springbonnie #omc #old man consequences #ask to tag #ask box is open for questions or if something needs clarification!#i do have images but i'm not gonna post them yet qwq #i just don't feel like it rn sry

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sahbibabe · 5 years ago

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Ignoring The Obvious

Soulmate AU

Sephiroth/Fem! Reader

Part Eleven

Your hospital stay is short. Your training commences. Reno has serious problems with being... well, helpful. Or encouraging. Especially with a giant Shinra dog chasing you through vents.

THE BED WAS HARD, YOUR knees were killing you, your abdomen was on fire, and the nurse was steadily refusing to give you morphine no matter how much you begged. You had spent the better part of two days as high as a kite, blissfully unaware of the train wreck of memories about to hit you the moment you were weaned off of your medication. The file─your unfiltered, raw test subject notes and classifications─sat innocently on the nightstand as if it was completely separate from the emotional turmoil you were facing.

It would be easy, so easy to slip into the mercenary's mindset and ignore the pain. To shove the emotions aside and bury them so deep you didn't even have to acknowledge their existence. All you had to do was will them away, and they would be gone. But that was unhealthy and the moment you did that, all of your progress would be ruined forever and you would start from scratch once more.

But did it really matter? You asked yourself the same question over and over again as you watched the Chocobo documentary on the one-channel television network. You would be going back to that life anyways, with that same mindset and habits, without anyone to stop you from doing otherwise. You would be killing people for Rufus Shinra in the name of eliminating competition; a petty game was what it all came down to.

And you were the knight who guarded the King.

You looked away from the television to your food. It was plain hospital food, rich in protein to help you replace all of the blood you had supposedly lost while you fought the doctor tooth and nail when he tried to get a needle in your arm for an IV. Reno had laughed when he told you about the resident's injuries, but it only made you feel sick to your stomach when the nurses had to strap you down like a wild animal.

Other than Reno, your only other visitor was Rude, and he had been thoughtful enough to bring you a bouquet of real flowers. He wouldn't say where he had gotten them from when you asked, just sat in silence, so you asked him instead how Hojo was doing with that stab wound, as smug as you might have sounded.

"You didn't stab Hojo," Rude told you bluntly, a slight hint of confusion in his voice. Your smugness was wiped from your face. "You stabbed an assistant doctor who had come in to check your new vitals."

"No," you had whispered,"no, that… That was Hojo. I remember it like it happened seconds ago…"

"It doesn't matter. The doctor has been treated and compensated out of your salary. You'll be fifty thousand gil short."

And that had been the end of that.

Now, you picked at the cheap, plasticky roast beef on your plate and pushed your asparagus around in circles. You weren't getting anywhere without the alarms sounding on your bed, so you were effectively a prisoner until they turned them off. Add that to the iron they were slowly feeding into your IV and you felt like a rabbit confined in a small cage, pacing a few steps at a time.

Out of the corner of your eye, sitting right beside the file you were desperately trying to avoid reading, sat the Book of Colors: a book that translated all of the different colors soulmates might see, their specific combinations, and surprisingly, origins.

The strings felt snug against your fingers as you weighed your options, kneading your fingers into your palm. There was a lot you could learn about the authenticity of soulmate bonds through that book. People followed it like gospel, spoke of it as something holy. You had never had a reason to read it until now, or the money to, but now you had prime opportunity and the eyesight to help you do it.

You picked up the book and pushed your lunch tray away from the bed.

It was a hefty leather thing, dyed black and sewn with gold thread to display the title: The Book of Colors. One could easily take it for a children's book, but it was so much more than that. A quick glance at the spine showed it was the newest edition.

The first page you opened it to described the various types of soulmate bonds, everywhere from bonds to the literal soul to telepathic communication. It depended heavily on the people bound to determine what kind of bonds they got. Cynical, unfair people walked around without color vision until they met their soulmate; quiet, shy people got telepathy; and people like you, a mercenary gone civilian, got strings.

"Strings guide the lost home," you mumbled, tracing your finger over the plain description beneath the header,"and return hearts to where they belong."

One of the authors theorized heavily that strings meant involvement with the lifestream personally, or some kind of way to identify past soulmates with one another.

"It's a very unique thing, the strings," the author wrote,"just like anyone else's, but this means that the two souls have already connected before in the past. Eons or two hundred years ago, who can say?"

You skimmed over the rest and flipped over to the colors, the part you had been dreading and also curiously dying to read. There were sections to different soulmate types, some colors meaning different things, so you found your section and settled down in your springy hospital bed.

"Identify the weave of your strings," the book told you. It offered a small chart of different weave types. "You may have two types or you may have four. Find yours and look at the pairing chart to determine the intent of your bond."

That was easy enough. You shook the threads out and looked closely at their weave; there was a single double braid, what looked like a dutch braid, and an elaborately woven pattern that repeated halfway through the string on each one.

"The double braid signifies a union between two people," you read, following the lines with your finger. "If there is a child born from that union, two becomes three on this specific line."

You didn't have a third thread, like you expected, so you moved on.

"The dutch braid signifies a match with power and darkness. Don't worry yourself, though! Darkness can be equated to many things, such as self conflict, a trouble within the body, or even a mental disconnection from stress."

Sephiroth didn't seem to be mentally disconnected, but you didn't even know him that well. You messed with the threads for a few moments, stuck on that phrasing, before finding the last section where the more elaborate braids were.

"This gorgeous flower patterned weave means that you have reunited with your soulmate several times in various past lives. Much like additional colors to the vision discussed in the previous soulmate identification, the different petals on it connote just how many times you have been with your soulmate in past lives. Count them! How many do you have?"

You raised an eyebrow and counted the individual petals. One, two, three, four, five, six, and… just burgeoning on the final petal, weaving itself before your eyes, was seven.

But there wasn't a number for that─there wasn't even a color combination or weave combination for the mess around your hand. You checked several times, but to no avail; no one had ever had gold, purple, and green and black threads.

You slammed the book shut and tossed it back on the nightstand just as the door handle turned and popped open. Reno sauntered past the threshold and made himself at home in the guest chair, eating popcorn and humming an odd tune.

"So, how's the chocobo documentary doing?" His eyes sparkled with mirth. "Making you bored yet?"

"Sure. If you count restlessness as bored." You crossed your arms and fixed him with a hard stare. "When can I get out and do my job?"

"In an hour." Reno threw a handful of popcorn in his mouth dismissively. "Doc says you're cleared to start training and work off that excessive energy you have."

"Good." You ripped your blankets back and hopped out of the bed. The floor was still cold beneath the cheap socks the hospital had given you. The world swam around you for a moment and you steadied yourself against the nightstand. "Good. That means I didn't pass the exam?"

Reno shrugged. "You never finished it. Tseng pulled some strings. As long as you pass training you should be fine."

"Why do you sound like you doubt me?"

"You'll find out in… oh, about an hour."

And oh, find out you did.

"Reno, I'm going to murder you for this."

Sweat traced rivers down your face as you shimmied your way through the ventilation system of the training barracks, a guard dog snapping at your heels. He didn't answer over the comms system, but you knew he had to be laughing at you somehow.

"Shit," you yelped, feeling the dog's teeth sink down into your shoe. You kicked back on reflex and it cried out, releasing you instantly. You moved a little faster, relieved at the sight of a vent, and slammed your elbow down on the grate. It didn't budge and there was a very pissed off hound breathing down your neck. "Oh, fuck me."

"Keep on moving, [Name]!" Reno chortled. You scowled and got on your knees, moving as fast as you could given the cramped space. "Three minutes left!"

"You and your three minutes can go to hell!"

"Yeah, but then who would sic hounds on you then? You'd fail your training no problem."

"Reno," you growled, shoving your fingers into another grate just ahead and pushing down hard. It swung open. The dog got closer. "I'm going to kick your ass."

"Get out of the vents and then we can talk!"

You dropped neatly onto a bench, the leatherwork groaning beneath your feet. You hopped off and opened the door right as the dog dropped out behind you, hightailing it down the hall at full speed.

"Gotta take out the dog, too, [Name]!" Reno reminded you.

Feet skidding into the marble floor, you whirled around, cursing Reno for his snarky reminders and tackled the dog head on. It flailed as you wrapped your arms around its neck and cut off its breathing, barely keeping purchase by pinning your knees to the over muscled thighs. It growled and tried to bite you, the struggle slowing second by second, until it flopped down on the floor, tongue hanging.

Unconcious, but not dead.

You reclined back on your haunches with a sigh, wiping sweat from your forehead, and when you opened your eyes, you found the full brunt of Reeve Tuesti's gaze staring you down.

Your hand dropped from your forehead. Not even your labored breathing helped you forget that you had somehow ended up in a completely different building than Reno had told you to go to.

"Damnit."

#final fantasy #final fantasy 7 remake #sephiroth x reader #soulmate au #soulmate #final fantasy vii remake

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magical-beans · 5 years ago

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Chapter 4: Meet the Deck of Cards (Danganronpa x Reader)

Two weeks.

That’s how long you wait to meet DICE. The real DICE.

You’re antsy. Your mind races with outcomes and scenarios, and you pace constantly, muscles tense with the same restlessness. Your stomach roils alongside the uneasy heat that settles under your ribs. It’s torture, this waiting, and you nearly wish you had stayed on the streets.

At least the pot helps.

The whole situation is throwing you off-kilter. You’re so far out of your depth, so disoriented by this war waging in your head. The anticipation and anxiety are foreign to you, long ago replaced by the thrill of competition and the eagerness of battle. You don’t know how to handle emotions like this.

It occurs to you one night, lying wide awake in an unfamiliar bed, what this is.

You’re scared. Absolutely terrified. And of what? A bunch of people who, sure, rule the underworld, but couldn’t overpower you even if they tried?

No, that’s not it.

You fear what they might do to your mind. How they might mess with your life.

You fear their relationship to Ouma Kokichi, and what that means for their ability to manipulate people.

After all, that’s what makes Ouma so dangerous.

You aren’t stupid. It would have been impossible to become who you are today if you were.

You know the sprint to the warehouse was more than a test of your physical prowess.

You know he selects his words carefully to gauge your reactions, to test the waters of your personality.

Ouma has the innate ability to slip inside someone’s head undetected, and from there he works his magic. He plays mind games; that’s his MO. He creates the most convoluted mazes through his actions and his lies, and he challenges every person he comes across. Ouma Kokichi pokes, and he prods, and he pushes, and then he uses what he knows to decimate people from the inside out.

You don’t want to imagine a world where more than one of him exists. That is why DICE terrifies you so deeply.

You try to keep up. Ouma allows you to listen in on a few phone calls, and you extrapolate conclusions on certain people based on his responses. Otherwise, you prompt Ouma into talking about them (he likely knows what you’re doing but indulges you anyway), and if both fail, you meditate. Maintaining a firm sense of self and center will hopefully thwart any attempts to twist your mind.

You’d best prepare for the worst.

~ 死 ~

The DICE Penthouse in Japan is, in a word, home.

People often forget that this district, now skyscrapers and high-rises, was once the backstreets and slums of Tokyo. DICE adopted it and gave it life.

Once upon a time, before the first foundations of the penthouse building had ever been placed, there was an old, abandoned factory. That factory was the first home of all ten DICE members. It was musty, and ridding the place of dust was an impossible war, but it was home. An old sectional, stuffing falling out of every other cushion. A coffee table that was missing a leg. Scattered, springy mattresses. And an oven that only functioned seventy-five percent of the time.

There was nowhere else in the world that Kokichi would have wished to begin his quest for world domination.

As more funds poured in, buildings went up, and soon the area became a business hotspot.

Kokichi commissioned a penthouse complex to be built directly on top of the factory, and the top floor penthouse was a custom build, made specifically to accommodate DICE.

The front entrance is on the far left of the penthouse, sectioned off by two racks — for shoes and slippers — on either side. Just past a small, half-wall to the right, a spiral staircase leads up to the next floor, and beyond that is the large kitchen. Straight ahead, massive picture windows span the entire outer wall, and a sitting area encompasses the space in front of them. On the left side of the sitting area, two couches face each other over an enormous coffee table, and the right houses a circle of cozy armchairs. Both short walls next to the windows are bookshelves filled to the brim with novels and games of all sorts.

Beyond the primary room, a hall of doors stretches to the far right, each one leading to a bathroom or bedroom.

Upstairs is the War Room — as dubbed by Ryuunosuke — or the game room supreme. Games and books line the walls once again, and floor pillows and blankets are stuffed in baskets around the room. A few beanbags are shoved under the table. The picture windows on this floor are split in two by a wall for a flat-screen TV.

The rest of the bedrooms surround the War Room, sporadically placed with bathrooms nearby. Mirroring the first floor, there is a hall to the right, and at the end is a cove.

The cove is the only room in the penthouse that guarantees peace (not even one’s own room is safe). If you’re in the cove, you get left alone; these are the rules of the house.

The cove is a long, thin inlet stuffed to the brim with every comfort object one could ever imagine. The floor is covered with a thick rug, and the walls are painted pale blue. The room has more books, but fewer games: just a deck of cards and a bin of puzzles. A pile of plushies lies in one corner, and an overstuffed armchair sits in the other. Between the two is a long table, on it resting a few devices and a collection of fidget toys. On another table rests a salt lamp and an aromatherapy diffuser. Blackout curtains have been hung in the entrance to the cove and across the picture windows. They’re closed most of the time.

The spiral staircase leads up one more floor to the open roof. Up here is the fun stuff: the pool and hot tub, the lounge chairs, the hammocks. To one side is a sheltered counter and cooking area. It’s a bar setup, and the counter seats eleven in one lengthy line. Lounge chairs and hammocks are arranged around a fire pit on the other side. The pool and hot tub — closed for the winter — are right smack in the middle. Cordoning off the outer edge of the roof are tall railings, and the view from here is the best in the penthouse.

The evening following the Manic Machine-gun Massacre (Ah yes, the perfect title), Kokichi had taken (G/N) to the penthouse and directed them to the only unoccupied room in the house: the guest room at the end of the first-floor hall.

Who knows why it’s there anyway because, in all their years of living in the penthouse, DICE has never had a guest.

~ 死 ~

The first person to walk in the door is tall. Extremely tall.

The guy also looks like he could crush a skull with his bare hands.

His hair is wild: red and frizzy and gravity-defying. He’s in a sweatshirt and jeans, and he’s yawning into the back on his hand as he strolls in your direction. His russet brown eyes are exhausted, purple bags stark against his pale skin.

Ouma had been sitting next to you but jumps out of his seat and takes a running leap the minute he spots the guy, latching around his midsection. The man isn’t the least bit startled.

“Yuu-chan!” Ouma cheers, grinning up at his captive, and the man gives a small, tired smile.

“Hey, Boss.”

The man then peers up at you, and you freeze, staring him dead in the eye. You must look like a deer in headlights.

God damn it.

Instead of calling you out, though, the guy merely quirks the corner of his lips in greeting and saunters towards the couch across from you. When he sits down — not even bothering to pry Ouma off of him — he introduces himself.

“I’m Shinzou Yuu. It’s nice to meet you.”

His voice is deep and monotonous, almost bored, even, and he dips his head in a quick bow.

Thank God you’ve gained control of your limbs by now.

“I’m (S/N) (G/N). It’s nice to meet you, too.” You similarly dip your head and relax a bit. The guy seems normal, which is an enormous relief, but your gut says the worst has yet to come.

Upon hearing your name, Shinzou halts his attempts at trying to set Ouma next to him and narrows his eyes at you, then looks back to the boy in his arms. Back at you, to your left arm (wrapped in bandages), and then back at Ouma.

“You didn’t think to mention that we’d be meeting the (S/N) (G/N)? Really?” Shinzou says incredulously. Ouma just giggles.

“Nishishi~ It was implied! They did save me from gunfire, you know!”

This is strange. You rarely get this kind of recognition other than when you’re working a job, so maybe that accounts for the odd fluttering in your chest. It’s fuzzy, and your cheeks heat.

Weird.

Shinzou turns back to you and narrows his eyes in a scrutinizing manner.

“Is it true that you can stop bullets with your bare hands?”

“Umm, kinda?” You reply, averting your eyes. You raise a hand to scratch at the back of your neck.

Ouma chooses that moment to detach himself from Shinzou and lean across the coffee table between the two couches, moving into your personal space. He grins, that awful, mischievous smile contorting his lips.

“You know, (N/N)-chan, I hadn’t noticed this before, but you’re kinda gullible without your pot.”

You scowl at him, choosing not to start a battle you know you’d lose. Ouma’s smile grows wider, and he’s about to speak again when a hand clasps the back of his baggy sweatshirt.

Shinzou pulls Ouma back gently and plops him into a sitting position on the couch, shooting him an exasperated glance.

“Really?” He dares Ouma to argue, raising his eyebrows. “You want to start a fight with them?”

Ouma huffs and crosses his arms, turning his chin away with a pout and ignoring Shinzou’s question. Shinzou sighs and relaxes, facial expression directed towards you reading “I told you so”.

You can’t help the brief laugh that escapes you.

Ouma whirls back around to stare at you, eyes wide in dismay.

“(N/N)-chan! How could you betray me like this!? How could you support the abuse of such a small, helpless child like myself!?” Ouma’s eyes are wide with dismay, a hand clutched to his chest. “Completely and utterly evil, you are!”

Shinzou looks ready to cuff him on the back of the head.

“I didn’t come back home to listen to whine, you little shit,” Shinzou says, “I haven’t unpacked yet; I will walk out that door again.”

“It’s fine.” you don’t allow Ouma to taunt Shinzou. “He’s right.”

Ouma gapes at you with tears in his eyes, and seconds later he’s wailing.

“(N/N)-chan! You do understand!” He sniffles. “Save me from this abuser!”

“Of course, Ouma-san. Animal abuse is cruel. I could never stand for that,” you say, and Ouma pauses, tears drying as he stares at you, silent. Shinzou brings a hand up to cover his mouth, coughing to hide his snickers. You take the silence as a chance to continue.

“I can call the Humane Society, but they might end up sending the exterminators. Rats aren’t for everybody.”

Shinzou can’t stop himself this time, and he breaks out into hysterical laughter, holding his gut as he rocks forward guffawing. Ouma appears like he’s about to laugh — his pursed lips tighten — but he opts to burst out in tears again.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me, (N/N)-chan!” He wails, “You stabbed me in the back to side with this traitor!? This evil, violent man!? How could I have ever thought you cared?!”

Ouma stands up abruptly, wiping his face, and glares at you.

There isn’t any heat behind it.

“I’m going to bed now!” He declares, almost as if he hadn’t been crying moments ago. “When Emi-chan arrives tomorrow, she’ll protect me!” With that, he marches off down the hall.

“No, she won’t!” Shinzou calls after him, and you laugh again, shooting the man a lopsided smile.

He returns it.

Shinzou then stands up, stretching his arms over his head with a groan.

“I’m gonna head to bed, too. Jet lag, and all,” he says, tugging his shirt back down. “It was nice to meet you. You’re cool.”

You nod your head. “You, too,” you reply, and you watch as he saunters down the hall.

When Shinzou’s hulking frame disappears into a room, you breathe a sigh of relief. For the first time in two weeks, the nausea dissipates, and your eyelids droop, a yawn bubbling to the surface.

Thoughts of a good night’s rest make you smile.

~ 死 ~

“Shhhh, Emi-chan. They’re still sleeping! Be careful!”

“Sorry, sorry! The slime is ready. I’ll go get the bucket under the sink.”

“M’kay! I’ve got everything else set up, so hurry!”

“On it!”

~ 死 ~

The sun is way over the horizon, and light seeps through your blinds when you finally awaken. You stretch and let your mind come into focus, analyzing one detail at a time.

And then your gut twists, your chest constricts, and something is very, very wrong.

The instinct makes you slow to get out of bed, roving your eyes over every nook and cranny for whatever is pricking at your instincts.

It makes you careful opening drawers and cautious pulling out clothing.

You’re even careful enough to examine the door before leaving the room.

It does not make you, though, able to escape being coated in something from above.

A shocked screech escapes your lips, and you jump backward as something cold and wet trickles along your spine. Desperately grasping at your shirt, you try to wipe the sticky, neon pink slime off, but to no avail.

You search frantically for the culprit, and you discover an upside-down bucket above you, now empty and dripping with the same pink substance.

Damn it! I never look up!

Rambunctious laughter echoes from down the hall, and you spot Ouma — who is sporting a large t-shirt that doubles as a dress — and a girl.

The girl is taller than Ouma, though not by much, and has wavy blonde-ish hair tied up in perfect twin tails. Laughter crinkles her eyes, but when she opens them, they shine a deep blue. She’s wearing strawberry-patterned shorts and a loose, graphic tee.

The two of them continue to laugh at your predicament while you stand in shocked silence, putting together the pieces of what just happened.

When it all clicks into place, you can’t help but laugh, too.

Down the hall, Ouma and the girl freeze, watching you. You figure it’s confusing to them, that you’re finding it so amusing to be the brunt of their prank, and you laugh harder.

“Whaaat? (N/N)-chan, did you hit your head or something?” Kokichi calls out.

“I-yeah, I’m okay.” After a few more breaths, your laughter dies out. “I was trying to figure out what was making my instincts go haywire. I guess this explains it!”

You grin, reaching a hand up to run through your soaked hair.

“I’m glad,” you say, and the pranksters share a glance, utterly baffled. “I thought it was something dangerous.”

Ouma and the girl just stare at you, jaws unhinged, eyes narrowed in disbelief before they break out in laughter once more. You give a few giggles of your own, then glance down at yourself.

Your clothes are ruined, soaked through and stained, and you need to shower again. You pick at your left sleeve, irritated by the idea of re-doing the bandages underneath. You purse your lips, amusement and relief dimming.

Your head shoots up at the sound of footsteps, and in front of you stands the girl, hands clasped behind her back and a soft blush decorating her pale skin.

“Hi!” she greets, shifting on her feet, “I’m Ojoou Emi.”

You stand perfectly still as she approaches, and soon enough her face fills your vision. She’s shorter than you by several centimeters, but tall enough to reach your head.

You don’t say a thing as she reaches up and grabs a strand of hair that has fallen in your face, tucking it behind your ear. She scrutinizes you for a second, then smiles, hair bouncing as she tilts her head to the side.

“You’re pretty cute!” she exclaims, and the same warmth from yesterday returns with a vengeance. Your face is red hot, and as Ojoou giggles, the burning spreads to your ears.

She grabs your wrist and pulls you down the hall in Ouma’s direction, dancing around the puddle of pink mush, and stops at one of the many doors.

You’re helpless to follow.

As she reaches the doorknob, she turns to gaze at you and asks:

“Is it okay if I wash your hair?”

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

What?

You can hear Ouma’s stifled snickering.

“Wash... my hair?”

It’s been so long since someone has offered to do that.

“Mm-hmm! What else, silly? You need it!”

“I would love that.”

You smile, wide and genuine, and count the powerful beats of your heart as it pounds out of your chest.

Ojoou inhales sharply, gazing at you wide-eyed, before pulling you into the room.

It’s her room, painted in soft pink and trimmed in white. The room of a princess, with all the gossamer draperies and fluffy pillows. Ojoou drags you further into the room to another door, and this one leads to a massive bathroom.

White and clean and fragrant, and has the biggest fucking tub you’ve ever seen.

You know Ojoou is laughing at your awed expression.

“Well, I can’t wash your hair if you aren’t in the tub! Go on!” She encourages, shooing you in that direction.

You strip, peeling off the clothes and dropping them on the floor with a wet splat. Ojoou stops fiddling with the many confusing dials on the tub to watch you unravel the bandage.

She purses her lips but says nothing.

~ 死 ~

There’s a war out in the hall.

Kokichi knows he started it.

No, he’s not cackling from his hiding place in one of the kitchen cabinets. Where did you get that idea?

“I can’t believe you two dumped a bucket of slime on our guest. Why on Earth would you think that’s a good idea?”

“It wasn’t us! I swear, Yuu!”

That’s Ryuunosuke’s voice. The pair of them — Ryuu and Akihiko — had walked into the penthouse seconds before Yuu had walked out of his room. Between that and the incriminating puddle of slime outside (G/N)’s door, it was easy for Yuu to connect the dots. Albeit the wrong ones, but dots all the same.

“What do you mean this wasn’t you? You’re the only ones here! How could it not be you!? Now clean this up.” Yuu still sounds tired after sleeping for twelve hours. His ability to maintain the fed-up older brother role is practically an art form at this point.

“Have you considered that it might have been the boss? I definitely heard some laughter coming from the kitchen.”

Shit! Akihiko threw him under the bus.

Kokichi can just picture Yuu’s face now: mouth open, eyes narrowed, looking like he wants to refute that and say no, that’s impossible.

But he can’t. Because that’s a total lie.

It’s probably an excellent idea to get out of the cupboard now.

Kokichi hears Yuu sigh, likely running a hand over his face and surveying the pair in front of him. It was a logical conclusion to come to, those two pranksters getting into trouble, but Yuu knows he can’t rule out other options. Yuu breathes in deep and yells:

“KOKICHI!!!”

Uh oh. Think fast!

Kokichi tumbles gracelessly out of his hiding place into a heap on the floor. He groans and uses that to hide the thud of the closing cabinet door. Clutching his head, he watches through his fingers as his subordinates round the corner at lightning speed.

“Boss!” Ryuu yells, rushing to his side. “Are you all right?”

Kokichi groans again, rolling over, but doesn’t answer. It’s difficult to not snicker at Yuu’s “Oh geez”, but he holds it in.

“Oh, it’s terrible,” Kokichi whines, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, “I’m in so much pain! Get me to a hospital or I’ll die!”

“Oh no!” Ryuunosuke sounds panicked. “Quick, someone call the ambulance!”

Damn, he should get more credit for his acting.

Kokichi has his eyes closed, but he swears he hears Akihiko stumbling for the phone.

“He’s fine. You can knock it off, now.” Aw man, leave it to Yuu to spoil his fun.

“Huh?” The stumbling stops, and Ryuu lifts his hands off Kokichi’s face.

Kokichi giggles, sitting up and a-okay.

“Yup! You got me, Yuu-chan! How’d’ya know?”

“The scarf is new,” Yuu grumbles. “Where is Emi, anyway? You two will both have to be here when I rip you a new one.” Yuu scans the kitchen for another hiding spot that may hold Emi but doesn’t seem to find anything of interest.

Kokichi casts innocent puppy eyes on Yuu. “For what?"

It’s 0% effective.

Yuu levels him with a glare, and Kokichi bursts out laughing.

“So it was you!” Akihiko points an accusing finger at Kokichi, and he only laughs harder.

“Man, how could you frame us like that? A Demon King shouldn’t bully his subordinates like this, you know,” Ryuu pouts.

“You’re right. He shouldn’t.”

(G/N) walks around the corner dressed in clean clothing this time. Their hair is fluffy and unevenly cut, courtesy of Emi, and their face has a healthy glow. They meet his eyes.

They look healthy, Kokichi thinks, for the first time in a while.

~ 死 ~

As you exit Emi’s room (She had made a face when you called her Ojoou-san) you can hear a squabble in the kitchen. Mostly playful yelling with some laughter mixed in, and two unfamiliar voices.

One of the unknown voices says something along the lines of not bullying subordinates, most likely directed at Ouma, and you find yourself agreeing.

“You’re right. He shouldn’t.”

You round the corner to catch sight of Ouma laying on the floor, grinning. His eyes brighten when they lock with yours.

Emi follows right after you, using your arm as leverage to spin around and skip into the kitchen. She steps on Ouma as she ransacks the cupboards, searching for God-knows-what. He grunts in pain.

You reach down to help him up, nearly launching him into the air with force before you turn to the other three in the room.

You ignore Ouma rubbing his shoulder.

Shinzou is leaning on the counter, arms crossed, and a disappointed scowl on his lips. The other two are watching you with interested eyes.

The first one, closest to Shinzou, has spiked his vibrant green hair up into a point, the gel failing at the ends where it droops. He has eyes to match and a grin that reveals crooked front teeth.

The other stands straight, slate-gray hair pristinely combed and smoothed. His amber eyes sparkle with fascination, but his expression remains neutral.

The green one can’t contain himself any longer and comes up to greet you.

“Greetings, peasant!” He puffs up his chest. “I am the General of the Demon Army, and me and the prince have come to take you under our wing.”

It’s amusing to hear these words from someone shorter than you.

“The prince and I, Ryuu,” the blue one corrects, and “Ryuu” turns on him.

“I’m more powerful than you, so you can’t fix my grammar!”

“Oy, princesses,” Shinzou interrupts, “Introduce yourselves before you start a fight.”

The two of them quit bickering to pout at Shinzou, puffed cheeks and all.

Green crosses his arms and looks to the side.

“I am not a princess!”

“I am!” Emi shouts, slamming a cabinet door, “And I can rule the Demon Army better than you!”

“That’s impossible! A princess can’t rule the Demon Army!”

“Whaaaat?” Ouma interjects, “But didn’t Yuu just say you were a princess, Ryuu? Does that mean you can’t lead the Demon Army either? Oh well, looks like it’s all up to you, (N/N)-chan.”

“Fine!” Green’s voice smothers all the other side chatter. “Princesses can lead the Demon Army, but the only one truly fit to lead it is Airi-chan.”

“So you’re conceding?” Ouma tilts his head innocently.

“Absolutely not, but Airi-chan is acceptable.”

“Well, if you aren’t going to accept all princesses, then I’ll just have to fire you from your position as High Demon General,” Ouma says. “I, as Demon King, hereby revoke-”

“Ugh! Fine! Even Emi can lead the Demon Army!”

You shoot Ouma a quizzical glance.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to bully your subordinates.”

He sticks his tongue out at you.

“Oh, that’s right!” Green yells suddenly, bouncing over to you as if just now reminded of your presence. “You need to begin your training to become a part of the royal family!”

He scrunches his face up, hand on his chin.

“Where would you best fit in?” He mumbles to himself.

“Oh! (N/N)-chan is already my personal guard!” Ouma says, leaning on your arm.

“What about Yuu?” Green furrows his eyebrows.

“He’s random buff guy number two.”

“Thank, ‘Kichi. I appreciate that.”

“You must be my top soldier, then!” Green’s face brightens, and he bows deep, hands tight to his sides. “Pleasure to meet you! I’m Suki Ryuunosuke, your general! Hiko! C’mon, we have to educate our charge!”

Suki doesn’t give you a chance to return his greeting and marches out of the kitchen, head held high.

“Clean up the slime first!” Yuu calls after him, and Suki groans, throwing his head back.

“But that’s ‘Kichi’s mess!” Suki whines, sending big, pleading eyes Yuu’s way.

“It is, but instead of those two cleaning it up, we are going to have words.” Shinzou glares at Kokichi and Emi, and their eyes widen comically. Kokichi scampers out of the room, and Emi isn’t far behind, swiftly shutting a drawer before following him out. Shinzou is hot on their tails. You stifle a chuckle into your hand.

Blue comes up beside you, leaning into a graceful bow, one hand curled in front of him and the other tucked behind.

“Prince Osama Akihiko. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

You grin and then bow with the same flourish.

“(S/N) (G/N), your highness. It is an honor to serve you.”

When you glance back up, you notice how his eyes sparkle with joy.

“Come along!” He waves a hand, already prancing out of the kitchen. “Your training begins now!”

~ 死 ~

You are in the middle of learning about food crimes with Osama and Suki when a very rotund guy stumbles through the door in the front hall.

“I’m home!” He calls, his voice still full and booming despite being forced into the wall as he faces away. When he whirls around, he meets your eyes over the couch. He has heterochromia, you notice — right eye clear blue, left eye sunny yellow — and he’s wearing a red hat on his head; it says something in English you can’t quite make out.

You’re jostled as Osama and Suki leap off the couch towards the guy, and suddenly he has his arms full of the two of them. They’re cheering while hugging him tightly, asking after souvenirs.

“Well hello hello!” the guy joins in, squeezing the two smaller boys back. His eyes raise to meet yours again, and you stand to greet him, too. “It’s nice to meet you, Stranger!”

“You too.” You say, shifting your weight between feet. You fidget with your hands. “Er, my name is (S/N) (G/N). Call me whatever you’d like.”

The guy finally sets the two boys on the ground again, and they giggle, racing back to the couch. One of them — Osama — has stolen his hat to reveal his bald head. It’s shiny under the lights.

The guy hums, stroking his chin in a mock of thoughtfulness, then snaps his fingers.

“I’ve got it!” He declares suddenly, “How about Pizza Pal?”

What the fuck?

“Oh!” The guy exclaims, stirring you out of your confusion. “I’m Diira Tarou, by the way, but call me Tarou.”

Oooooh. That explains a lot.

You must convey the understanding blatantly because Tarou laughs. Heat rises in your face again. What’s with that?

“Pizza Pal?” Osama parrots, though Suki shushes him. You kinda really want to crawl back into bed to hide from all the embarrassment. You were hungry, okay? Is that a crime? Around here, apparently, it is.

Tarou has moved over to the other couch, plopping down and dumping his backpack to the side. You sit down again, though awkwardly.

“Oh! Food crimes! My favorite!”

And that’s the end of it. You become increasingly disturbed by food crimes and what they entail as the three guys explain them to you.

Though Tarou keeps stealing glances at you.

You finally catch his eye, but he doesn’t look away.

“What,” you ask, though the word is more of a demand than anything.

“‘Kichi didn’t really starve you, did he? You’re awfully thin,” He answers, and you’re taken aback. Thin? Yes, you’ve had some bad eating habits in the past, but you’re still healthy!

“Oh be quiet, Tarou. You say everyone is too thin.” Osama waves him off. “The only two who are underweight are Airi-chan and ‘Kichi.”

“Mmm. I hope Airi-chan ate enough while we were away. Last time we split up, she hardly made it home!”

The conversation is quite rudely interrupted by the sound of the door slamming closed.

“We’re home~!” Comes Ouma’s singsong call, nearly as loud as Tarou’s entrance. Beside him is a young girl, brown hair sweeping the floor. She hides behind Ouma, peeking out at the room as if searching for something.

Her eyes land on you, and she freezes. Her irises are wide swirls of deep magenta, and she’s swimming in the gray, long-sleeve shirt she’s wearing. Around her neck is a scarf identical to the one around Ouma’s. When you meet her eyes, she immediately looks away, cowering further behind Ouma.

You expect, for a moment, for the three others to jump up to say hello, but the room stays quiet. Tarou gets up alone and makes his way over to the door. Instead of saying something, he ruffles Ouma’s hair — to which Ouma bats his hand away playfully — and kneels down in front of the girl. She’s quick to wrap her arms around his neck.

Tarou stands, whispering something into her ear that causes her to bury her face further into his shoulder. You can’t quite tell from your position, but you think she nods.

Tarou carries the girl over to the couch and sits down with her still wrapped around him. Ouma plops down right next to him, face passive. He’s unnervingly silent. The girl slowly slides off Tarou until her feet are touching the floor, and then she stands and squishes herself into the non-existent space between Ouma and Tarou.

“Hey there, Airi-chan,” Suki murmurs, and it throws you off guard. For someone so flamboyant — you’ve known him for three days and haven’t yet discovered a way to dial him down — it’s disconcerting to see him subdued.

The girl’s only response is a whimper, staring at her feet while kicking them back and forth. Her lip quivers slightly.

“(G/N)-chan-” and wow, doesn’t Tarou sound serious. Ouma has yet to say a word. “-this is Damasu Airi. Airi-chan, this is (S/N) (G/N). We call them (N/N)-chan.”

The room is silent for a few moments. Damasu sniffles, bringing a hand up to her face to wipe at her nose, and it occurs to you to say something.

“Hi,” you say as softly as you can. It’s better than your attempt with Ouma in the office, but still not great. “Your eyes are very pretty.”

Unfortunately, your words do not match your posture. You’re stiff as a board, spine rigid, hands gripping your knees.

Shit. I’m not prepared to deal with scared, adorable children.

You nearly miss it, with your fretting about how you’re presenting yourself, but the girl whispers something.

“Thank you. I like your eyes, too.”

You wonder how someone so quiet could fit in with a group so rowdy.

You smile as gently as possible at her, thanking her in kind. She slowly worms her way out of her spot between Ouma and Tarou and rounds the coffee table.

What’s she doing?

Everyone sitting around the couches holds their breath when Damasu stops directly in front of you.

She wraps her thin arms around your middle, squeezing with shocking strength, and you blink in surprise. You lay your arms across her back, but don’t do no more out of fear of crushing her.

She’s so small.

You feel a vibration in your chest, and it takes you a moment to realize she’s saying something.

“I’m sorry,” you lean down to her head level, “Could you say that again? I missed it.”

She doesn’t move, but says something directly into your shirt.

“I’m Airi. Please take care of me.”

It takes the literal hand of God for you not to crush her in a hug then and there, and you have to resist the urge to cry happy tears.

God fucking damn it. I will never survive this child’s adorableness.

~ 死 ~

Ouma has saddled you with taking out the trash, which somehow entails dragging it all the way to the first floor and to the dumpster outside. You think it’s absurd for such a nice penthouse, plus you’re certain you saw Tarou dump it somewhere in the hall a few days ago, but you do it anyway.

As you round the corner, bag of trash held out as far as possible, you notice a presence leaning against the wall next to the dumpster. Taller than you, and a little menacing, but they don’t concern you. Frankly, it seems like a cliché scare tactic. You move around him and throw the bag into the overflowing bin.

You’re moving to leave when he finally speaks.

“Did you really stop a guy with a gun?”

Ah, so he must be from DICE. Ouma did enjoy regaling his subordinates (Read: Family) with the story of the shootout.

“I did,” you say, pausing at the entrance of the alley, “No big deal. Just doing my job.”

He approaches you from behind, though keeps his distance.

“Do you have a stick up your ass?”

You splutter at the question, choking on your own saliva.

Geez, how many “What the fuck” moments am I going to have?

“I hope not,” you reply, wide-eyed. “The chairs upstairs are comfy.”

The guy chuckles into his hand as he comes up beside you but swiftly stops himself, scowling at his palm as if chastising it. In the light, his hair is white-blond and gelled in every different direction. His hazel eyes — emerald green rimmed in honey brown — shine in the sun, and his tan skin radiates heat that seeps into your arm even from a foot away.

“I’m (S/N) (G/N),” You bow your head. “It’s nice to meet you. Are you a part of Ouma’s family?”

The guy chuckles again, this time not bothering to smother it, and nods his head in return.

“Karabu Nobutoshi. It’s nice to have more people who can see through Kokichi’s bullshit.”

“Yeah. I’ve gotta say, I thought the rest of you would be better at it.” You shake your head at thoughts of Suki and Osama getting caught up in Ouma’s ridiculous antics.

Karabu sighs, and you sense he knows exactly who you’re thinking of when he mutters, “Those two…”

A sudden chill brushes down the alley, and you’re reminded that Japan in the winter is not warm and that you aren’t wearing more than a sweatshirt and some leggings. You shiver, then glance over at Karabu, who is wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and wonder how?

The mystery only deepens when he grins.

Karabu leads you back to the door but pauses just before he opens it.

“Oh, one more thing before we head up,” He says, face neutral once more.

“Hmm?” You aren’t really paying attention, focused on warmth and getting back inside. You pull your hands into your sleeves and curl into your torso.

“Has Tarou been taking his insulin?” Karabu’s eyes bore into you, unblinking.

“His what?” You have no idea what he’s talking about. The lobby looks really nice right about now.

“You know, the little white tablets. He’s supposed to take them before every meal.” He’s insisting, now, hand still firmly grasped around the door handle and very much in your way.

“Uhhhhh…” You blink at him, ransacking your brain. “Nope. No white tablets.”

“Shit!”

~ 死 ~

“Was it too much to expect a clean house when I arrived?” the girl that steps in the door forgoes a traditional greeting, lilac bob swishing around her shoulders as she slips off her shoes and coat. She wears a thick, cashmere, knit sweater with sleeves that hang past her hands and dark leggings. She shivers briefly, hugging her arms to her chest. “And some warm weather? I miss Argentina already.”

“Hey, Mayumi!” Tarou calls from the kitchen, eating straight out of a carton of vanilla ice cream. Nobutoshi is trying and failing to snatch the spoon out of his hand.

“Hey, Sweets. So glad you’re eating well.” Mayumi steps into her slippers.

“Not helping, ‘Yumi!” Nobutoshi says through grit teeth, finally grasping Tarou’s wrist. “Take your insulin first, God damn it!”

“Say, where’s our guest? I was hoping to introduce myself.”

“Upstairs, I think,” Tarou says, a new spoon — pulled out of nowhere — stuffed in his mouth. Karabu is yelling in frustration. “They’re famous!”

“Oh?” She makes her way to the stairs, foot on the first step. “I’ll make sure to give them a warm welcome, then.”

The struggle in the kitchen continues as Mayumi ascends the stairs, but at the last second she leans down with a smirk and says:

“Take it easy on him, Toshi. He’s only a boy.”

Tarou’s triumphant shout and Nobutoshi’s frustrated groan make Mayumi grin as she steps onto the next floor.

~ 死 ~

The DICE rendition of Chutes and Ladders is far more trouble than it’s worth.

“Oh come on! There is no way that’s fair!”

You got lost about half an hour ago. That was about when the game started.

Turns out, when all rules are up for debate, there really are no rules.

You don’t follow.

Thus, you are content to figure out what the hell is going on as Ouma tries to move up a chute.

“Of course it’s fair! See!? I have a get out a jail free card!” Kokichi declares, pulling out a worn, orange card with a question mark on the back.

Yeah, there is no way you’re catching up anytime soon.

“No! We said you couldn’t use those last time! You know, Ren Vs. Community Chest!”

“Exactly.” The word comes from behind you, savory and smooth. “Community Chest. Chance cards are still free reign.”

You twist in your seat to meet violet irises. A few shades lighter than Kokichi’s, they pin you in place.

“Ippanjin Mayumi, Dear.” She says, and her cat-like eyes narrow teasingly. “A pleasure to meet you. I hear you’re famous?”

“(S/N) (G/N).” You manage to spit out. “And, uh, I guess?”

Her eyebrows raise and her lips part ever so slightly, conveying her surprise. She lifts her gaze to somewhere above your head before settling down next to you.

Osama deals her five cards.

“Well, Darling,” Ippanjin shoots you a glance from the corner of her eye, “You won’t last long here if you don’t learn how to keep up. Pay attention, now.”

You blink at the nickname and then laugh.

“Yeah, I’ll try my best.”

~ 死 ~

By the third round of the game, you have your own cards and are debating with Suki about the plausibility of using the Doctor occupation card from LIFE to move the exact number of squares to the end. It’s all nonsensical, and you are having the time of your life.

You don’t notice Ippanjin lean over until she’s already whispering in your ear.

“Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you won’t be receiving the shovel talk.”

You don’t know what that means, but by the shivers the words send down your spine, it’s nothing good.

~ 死 ~

It’s not, and you hope to all that is holy that you never have to face Ippanjin’s wrath.

~ 死 ~

You’re up early the next morning, the sun still slumbering, and a bubble of anticipation bounces around your stomach that makes it impossible to sleep. You creep into the kitchen to find some tea, hoping to relax.

There is a figure sitting at the island, steaming mug in hand.

Not threatening, your gut says, the anticipation swirling into apprehension, but dangerous. Tread carefully.

You monitor them as you shuffle around the kitchen. They don’t seem concerned with your presence, rather like they were expecting you. Their gaze shifts lazily between their mug and your movements, sandy hair streaked with soft red falling into their face.

When you reach for a mug, the stranger speaks up.

“The water in the kettle is still hot. Help yourself.”

The voice is distinctly male and holds a very calming effect despite the situation. You find it easy to relax.

There is one more member you have yet to meet, you know, and you believe this is him.

Naiya Ren. The others talk about him constantly; he’s some of the only damage control they have and is basically Ouma’s common sense filter.

You slip into the stool two away from him, clutching your wide mug with both hands.

The two of you sit in silence for a few precious moments, drinking in the night’s serenity.

“Ah, I’ve got it,” Naiya says out of the blue, but his voice doesn’t startle you. “(S/N) (G/N).”

Maybe it’s the unfamiliar energy of the early morning or Naiya’s strange aura, but you are nothing but calm as your name leaves the lips of someone you’ve never given it to. Instead, you hum in affirmation and swish around a mouthful of tea.

“For such an astute bodyguard, I thought you might at least be concerned about finding a stranger sitting in your kitchen.” His narrowed eyes train on you now, and though it’s dark, you can see them glint deep red.

You meet them.

“Whoever said you were a stranger? Naiya Ren, I assume?”

For a split second, his eyes sharpen, red flashing, and a burning in your chest flares to life, demanding you stand and defend yourself.

It’s gone within the second, but it leaves you tense as he scowls and stands, heading for the stairs.

“Never assume,” he growls back to you, and then he disappears to the second floor.

Ren’s cup of tea is left abandoned on the counter, still steaming.

You can’t shake the feeling that all of this was planned.

~ 死 ~

You fail to go back to sleep.

Instead, you pace the kitchen and sitting room, half-empty, luke-warm tea in hand, and mull over the events of earlier.

You’ve known from the beginning that Naiya would be the toughest person to convince to let you stay. He has been with Ouma the longest, if the rest of DICE has been telling the truth, and is the second most responsible for making DICE a reality.

You understand that you are the intruder in this situation. You understand that his reaction is reasonable.

That doesn’t stop him from frustrating you.

Everything until this point has been so easy. Everyone has been so accepting and kind, and you think if you had some time, you’d fit right in.

As if you’ve been there from the beginning.

“You’ll wear a hole into the floor if you keep that up, (N/N)-chan.“

With all your furious pacing, you missed the presence sneaking into the room.

Your mug slips out of your hands and shatters on the floor, tea soaking into the rug below you.

Ouma Kokichi perches on a kitchen stool, a smirk on his face and an unreadable twinkle in his eyes.

“Wow, I can’t believe I startled the famous bodyguard! I must be super sneaky.”

He’s lying. You’re not sure how you can tell — you think it has something to do with his words misaligning with his expression — but you know he’s lying.

The bastard’s not surprised at all.

You narrow your eyes at him, but you don’t indulge him in a reply. Instead, you head towards the closet Suki grabbed the cleaning supplies out of the other day.

“Cleaning supplies!?” Ouma slips off his stool and follows you, hands behind his head. “The elite bodyguard shouldn’t have to clean up messes, especially when they’re a guest!”

His smirk is growing wider. The word “guest” rubs you the wrong way. As if you don’t belong. Perhaps you don’t.

It takes you a moment to realize what he’s trying to do.

Ah, he’s attempting to get under my skin.

“What kind of bodyguard would I be if I left this all over the place for someone to step on?” You dodge his attempts at getting a rise out of you, but try to play along as best you can.

“Man, you’re such an awesome bodyguard. I hadn’t even thought of that!”

This time, you notice him approach you. You’re digging around for the dustpan when he speaks again.

“Ren get on your nerves, did he?”

You freeze.

How does he know?

You can’t see him, but Ouma must be wearing a self-satisfied grin as he backs off. He knows he’s right.

“What’s wrong, (N/N)-chan? Can’t you just, I don’t know, take him out with your fists? Maybe break his arms like you did with that guy the other day? That was brutal!”

You have to try very hard not to disintegrate the handle of the dustpan in your grip. You grab at the broom aggressively and stalk back to the mess you made.

“I don’t like to hurt people.”

It’s shameful that you mutter those words. You stare intently at your feet as you sweep up the ceramic shards.

“What was that?”

If only Ouma didn’t enjoy picking people apart so much.

“I said-!” you nearly yell, and cringe at the silence that follows. “I don’t like to hurt people. It’s an adrenaline thing. And the byproduct of…”

You’d rather not say. You press your lips together tightly and return to sweeping. You wait for a question, a prod, a statement, something, but it never comes.

Ouma doesn’t push this time.

He grabs a fluffy blanket from a basket in the sitting room and wraps it around his shoulders instead, sweeping his way back to his stool. The blanket flows behind him like a cape as he moves, and you can’t resist cracking a slight smile.

“Tea?” You ask while tipping the dustpan into the garbage. You’ll clean the stain later.

“Dunno, (N/N)-chan. The tea you make must be pretty bad if you dropped the last cup.”

You chuckle.

“Then how about I boil water and you can make it yourself?”

“Nah. Too much effort.”

You hide a smile in your mug when he gets up to pour himself a glass.

~ 死 ~

You and Ouma pass playful banter back and forth well into the morning. The two of you still sit at the counter as Airi makes her way downstairs, followed by Ryuu, and then Karabu, who is still wiping sleep from his eyes.

After coffee, Karabu makes pancakes, and he tasks you with keeping Ouma away from the salt. Or any ingredient, really, because the little shit will not waste an opportunity to mess with the batter.

Slowly but surely, everyone makes their way into the kitchen as the smell of breakfast wafts through the penthouse.

Ren almost goes unnoticed in the morning chatter, but Tarou is kind enough to point him out.

You tense upon hearing his name and avoid eye contact as much as possible. It’s pathetic, you know, but you can’t help it: you don’t enjoy screwing up.

If anybody notices your awkward silence (cough cough Kokichi cough) they don’t say anything.

The day continues like normal. You laugh and play games with Ryuu and Akihiko, and Naiya does who knows what. When lunch comes, you sense a few questioning gazes when you pointedly avoid Naiya, but no one acts on them.

You know it won’t last, but you can sure try.

It all comes to head that evening when the sun is setting and its red light shines directly through the sitting room window. You’re on the couch, and Naiya steps into the room, eyes on you.

“I have a proposal,” Naiya announces, and everyone, including you, turns to him expectantly.

“If you beat me in chess,” He points an accusing finger your way. “you can stay.”

The whole room freezes. Even Ouma is staring, eyes swirling with emotion you can’t place.

You don’t particularly care.

Chess? Sure, why not.

You stare Ren in the eye, tilt your head, and quirk your lips.

Afraid? No way.

“Challenge accepted.”

At your words, the room bursts into chaos.

“You can’t do that, (N/N)-chan! You can’t win against him!” Suki admonishes you before he turns and pulls a distressed face at Osama.

“Our charge will die before we can teach them anything! We have to do something!”

Emi is whispering to Ouma, though none too quietly.

“You know, I thought you said they weren’t dumb. And I was just starting to like them, too!”

Ouma doesn’t respond, just staring at you blankly. Surprised, you realize, and it’s satisfying to be able to read him just a little.

Naiya is surprised, too, now that you look back at him, though more noticeably.

“No fight? That’s it?” He asks, narrowing his eyes a little. You shrug.

“I figure that if I say no, you’ll kick me out, and I don’t mind playing chess.”

“Well, at least they know how to play chess,” Akihiko mutters. “They might not make a fool out of themself. But win? Impossible. Utterly impossible.”

~ 死 ~

The game is so quiet it’s uncomfortable. You’re seated across from Naiya on the couches in the sitting room, and the chessboard is on the coffee table. The rest of DICE piles onto the couches and squishes around the table on the floor.

Ouma has had his hand slapped away from the board several times already.

The two of you are rather far into the game, and Naiya appears frustrated. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to last this long, but it’s not looking good.

You’re missing a lot of your pieces, and a loss is staring you in the face.

It’s so hard not to smile.

This is right where I want to be.

“Check.” Naiya declares as he moves his bishop, though without luster, and leans back into the couch.

You play with your fingers while pretending to analyze the board, leaning in to shuffle your rook into position to shield your king. Looking up, you fix Naiya with a blank, curious stare before slowly settling back down into the cushions.

You watch as his eyes flicker over the board and widen as he realizes what has just happened. A self-satisfied smirk crosses your face, and you see Ouma scrunch his face up to stuff his laughter.

“Checkmate.”

Naiya bolts upright, eyes wild, and he’s franticly checking the game for a mistake. You don’t resist the urge to laugh as the people surrounding you rush forward, too. You tilt your head to glance at Ouma and catch him peering back. His face is neutral, lips pursed, but his eyes sparkle with excitement. You smile at him, a close-lipped, crinkle-nosed, crescent-eyed ordeal.

Finally, the clammer and chaos of the group are too much to ignore, and you turn back to find three faces in your personal space.

“How did you do it, (N/N)-chan? The only other person to beat Ren-chan is ‘Kichi, and no one can beat ‘Kichi!”

“Well done, soldier! You’ll learn quickly under our tutelage!”

“So cool! You can be the lieutenant of the Demon Army!“

“Quiet down. All of you!“

Immediate silence ripples through the room at the boom of Naiya’s authoritative voice, and he stares you in the eye. You stay like that for a moment, just staring at each other, before he turns away, heading toward the stairs. As he leaves, he calls out behind him one word, and the looks of shock on other’s faces makes it all worth it.

“Impressive.“

~ 死 ~

Ren is so lost in thought he doesn’t even notice Kokichi slip into his room and settle beside him until the mattress dips slightly. Even so, he doesn’t move.

Kokichi waits until Ren decides to speak.

It takes time. The loss surprised him, disappointed him. (G/N) is not who he thought they were.

“I wasn’t expecting someone like (S/N) (G/N) to use a tactic like that. Maybe something bolder for an equally fearless individual, but not that.”

Kokichi merely hums, expecting him to continue.

People’s personalities are reflected in how they play chess. If you’re shy, you second guess yourself and play timid. If you’re confident, you play bold and obvious. If you’re curious, you play all over the place, testing your opponent.

There are only two people who are an exception to this rule.

Kokichi, who can construct and act upon any personality he wishes, whose brain runs a mile a minute, who’s the smartest person in the room at any given time. That much makes sense.

And now (S/N) (G/N).

Ren doesn’t understand them.

He might never.

Ren sighs, sitting up and running his hands over his face. Kokichi takes this opportunity to sprawl himself further across Ren’s bed.

“Playing to lose.” Ren says finally, “To make your opponent underestimate you. To make them think they have it in the bag before you snatch it from them.” Ren whirls to face Kokichi. “Who plays like that!?”

Kokichi is clearly amused. His eyes twinkle and his lips twitch as he meets Ren’s eyes.

“People like me,” Kokichi says simply, as if that’s all the explanation needed.

Ren takes a moment to let that soak in.

Another like Kokichi, huh?

Ren likes rules. Always has, always will. They keep order and peace and lots of people from getting hurt.

He has rules for himself, ones that dictate his routines and actions. His morals.

He has rules for his family.

No orange nerf bullets.

No pranks after ten pm.

No more pain.

Ren doesn’t understand why he’s so drawn to Kokichi: a troublemaker of epic proportions.

Kokichi’s favorite activity is to break Ren’s rules.

Ren loves him for it with fond exasperation.

(S/N) (G/N) breaks his rules, too.

He can’t bring himself to hate them.

“I’ve always wondered, Kokichi,” Ren says, tilting his head towards the ceiling, “if you would find your Ace.“

Kokichi laughs, soft huffs of breath, and stands to make his way to the door.

“Ace. Finally, a royal flush.”

The door clicks softly closed behind him.

~ 死 ~

Uhhhh, I have no excuses? Basically, I hope you enjoyed. I loved writing this chapter, and plan on doing my best to get the next one out. This fic really just drags me all over the place because I have no idea where I’m going. The only other thing to note is that this fic is cross posted on AO3 if you prefer to read there. I plan on posting a link soon. Take care!

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #ouma kokichi #x reader #my take on DICE #dice v3 #original characters #shenanigans #practically crack

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gripefroot · 4 years ago

Text

You Bring the Summer

Half-draped over a pool noodle, Bucky lets the current from Sam’s cannonball drift him around. He’s feeling too lazy and too hot and too moody to care; even when he gets splashed, Bucky barely has the energy to do more than glare at Sam.

“Cheer up, Tin man!” Sam calls, wiping the water from his eyes with a massive grin. “It’s not every January we get to enjoy a hundred degree weather in the heart of New York City!”

It’s true, but Bucky still isn’t convinced. The idea of a warm getaway had sounded nice - if it was you and palm trees and not the rest of the team. Tony’s special dome on the roof of Avengers Tower to keep the winter at bay? Not so much.

And you’re not there yet.

The air in the dome is thick and humid. It’s hard to breathe. And the reflection of the timid winter sun on the solar panels is making the interior so bright and so hot - Tony had warned everyone that they could still get burned. Distantly Bucky registers the prickling sting on his shoulder - well, one shoulder - but he’d rather be sunburned than frostbitten any day. Burns heal faster. He knows this from personal experience.

Where are you, anyway?

Natasha and Clint are lounging on poolside chairs, sunglasses-ed and sunscreen-ed, chatting about something Bucky doesn’t care about. Unless it’s you. But it’s not. Because he hasn’t heard your name.

He sighs, kicking his feet in the water to start another lazy drag around the pool. A mistake - as soon as his back is turned to the general direction of the elevators, he hears your laugh. Oops. Without being conspicuous, Bucky drifts back around, his heart already beating strangely fast -

Wow. Wow.

With a towel draped over your arm, sunglasses perched on your head, and a bottle of sunscreen in one hand - you wander towards where Natasha and Clint are sitting, Steve right behind you. That lucky bastard. Bucky suppresses the growl rising in his throat - how had Steve found you?

Your smile is brighter than any reflection of sunlight.

“Got your floaties, Steve?” Bucky calls out, drawing attention towards him. Your gaze burns.

“Hey!” Steve protests.

“Unless you’ve learned to swim since 1944,” Bucky adds charitably, grinning around. You start to laugh, everyone else joining in - poor Steve’s face is as red as a brick. But Bucky made you laugh. Steve will live.

“I didn’t know Steve can’t swim,” Sam says, paddling to the edge of the pool by the others. “Makes me rethink that mission in Hawaii Tony has planned next week.”

“The mission isn’t in the ocean,” Steve says, clearly miffed. “It’s at a science lab.”

“But think of how many things could go wrong,” you tease him, sinking onto a pool chair by Nat, and drawing Bucky’s gaze. “What if the bad guys escape in a ‘copter and you get stuck trying to take them out, and you end up alone over the ocean? What if the lab complex has a pool and you trip and fall in it?”

Bucky laughs - you delight him so much - as Steve’s color deepens even more.

“You know what,” Steve says roughly, yanking his white t-shirt over his head. “I can swim. And I’ll prove it to you all - ” he points an angry finger around at everyone, “ - right now.”

“Oh no, call the lifeguard,” Nat says dryly, not looking up.

“I’m not saving you,” Clint says.

“Someone’s gonna die,” Bucky deadpans. He gets the darkest glare of them all from Steve - oh well - and Steve saunters right up to the edge of the pool and jumps awkwardly in. Everyone gets splashed, and Bucky spits out pool water.

“Yuck,” he says.

“Thanks a lot, Steve,” Natasha calls out, wiping drops from her face.

Steve, spluttering, surfaces. “So there,” he chokes.

“Yikes.” Sam swims over to Steve (likely for some remedial pointers), and Bucky is left eying you. Though you’re not looking his way, he can sense a purpose in your motions as you squirt sunscreen into the palm of your hand. Up one arm, rubbing in - he’s forgetting to breathe. You’re glowing in the sunlight. And glistening. Although your swimsuit isn’t as revealing as Natasha’s, you’re a thousand times sexier. Bucky’s mouth is watering as you move onto your legs. Then he remembers to drift around, and he kicks off from the wall with a cough.

At least he’s wearing sunglasses, too. Then no one will know where he’s looking. Probably.

“Hey, Nat - can you do my back?”

Natasha! That lucky bastard. Bucky swallows a growl of jealousy - how come everyone seems to get you today, except for him? He would cut off his left hand - heck, his right hand - to get to spread sunscreen all over your body. Your face is tilted towards the sky, a little smirk on your face - oh, you know what you’re doing to him. Bucky wets his lips, and growls for real this time.

“Thanks, Nat,” you say, all airy and casual.

“No problem.”

You settle back in the lounge chair, pulling out a book from beneath your towel. All this, and you’re going to read?

Bucky just might explode.

“Where is Tony, anyway?” Steve asks, coming up next to Bucky and his pool noodle.

“In his lab, I think,” Bucky shrugs.

“He set up all this, and he’s working?”

“Sounds like a Stark thing to do,” Bucky says.

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Go argue with Tony, then. I don’t feel like it.”

Steve eyes Bucky - Bucky tries really hard not to let his growing irritation (and other things) at you being so far away and untouchable show. Then Steve sighs.

“I don’t feel like it either.”

“Hey, but you’re treading water like a champ,” Bucky jibes, to change the subject.

Sam is laughing. “Hey, 28! Why don’t you come teach Steve how to swim?”

You lower your book from your face - Bucky is staring, and your brow arches over your sunglasses. “You’re thinking of Clint,” you say dryly, lifting the book again. “He swam in high school.”

“Then why aren’t you in here, Barton?” Sam asks indignantly.

“Don’t feel like getting wet today,” is Clint’s reply.

“I thought you swam for your school team,” Steve says to you, over the growing voices.

“I did diving.”

“Diving?” Sam interrupts, and his argument with Clint ceases. You lower your book again, sighing. “That’s like, my second favorite sport to watch during the Olympics!”

“Yes, Wilson, diving,” you enunciate. “Don’t you even try - ”

“Hey look!” Sam points to the other end of the pool. “There’s a diving board! Show us, 28! Come on! Show us!”

Your book closes with a snap. A haughty glare for Sam, but as you take off your sunglasses to set them aside, Bucky sees the mischievous twinkle in your eyes. Ugh, he could just eat you up all day -

A slow saunter to the diving board. You adjust the dials on the board for a more springy lift, and finally climb up. It’s not a tall diving board, and there’s a grin as wide as a field on Bucky’s face as he watches. You shake out your legs and arms, taking a deep breath. Then two brisk steps, a jump, and a perfectly executed (as far as Bucky can tell) forward somersault and a straight dive into the water.

There’s applause as you surface, a rueful smile on your face as you push your wet hair away.

“I’m out of practice,” you say with a laugh. “But please - keep clapping. I like that.” Bucky chortles as you swim towards the others.

“Finally, a fourth person!” Sam crows. “Now we can chicken fight.”

“Chicken fight? What are we, twelve years old?” Steve gripes.

“You’re just mad because you’ve always had to be on top,” Bucky laughs.

“It’s so true! I’d rather be on bottom - ”

“Well, today’s your lucky day, Star-Spangled Man with Plan,” Sam says gleefully. “Super soldiers on bottom. It’s me and 28, right here!” And he gives you a challenging glare and some karate hands, but you only laugh in return.

“I’ll rock paper scissors you for Steve,” you tease.

Bucky sniffs. You’re just pretending, right? For everyone else’s sake? So as not to be suspicious? He considers pinching you in retaliation - but the water’s clear. Probably shouldn’t.

“Aww, man,” you groan, as Sam wraps your rock in his paper with a gleeful cackle. “Fine.”

“That’s right, babygirl. Cap and Falcon - the unbeatable duo!”

“Well, make way for Agent 28 and the Winter Soldier,” you sass back. “We’re unbeatable, too.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Bucky tosses his pool noodle out - no need for that anymore - as you tread over to him with a new, special sort of look in your eyes. Had you lost the game on purpose? He’d like to think so - and grins as you stand in front of him. Bucky crouches instinctively.

Your wet leg swings around, and you plant yourself firmly on his shoulders. Bucky tries not to think about it as you shift your weight. He can smell you very well. All damp and warm and silky and smooth -

“I’m not hurting your shoulder, am I?” you ask, a little anxiety in your tone.

“Not at all, ba - er, partner.” Oops. Sam is flexing his muscles in the sunlight, as Steve struggles to gain his balance below him.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable.” And you shift a little more - are you doing this on purpose? - and Bucky grips your knees to keep you steady. Then he yelps.

“Ouch! You’re sitting on my hair!”

“Oh, sorry! Sheesh.” You move your thigh. “You need a haircut, dude.”

“Well, now’s not really the time - ”

“I have an extra hair tie. Hold still.”

Bucky obeys. Your gentle fingers scrape up his hair, and tie it off in a knot at the top of his head. Better. Is this the hair tie you’d pulled from his hair yesterday morning in the gym? Probably.

“Count us down, Nat!” Sam hollers.

“You’re gonna regret this,” you tease Sam. “Bucky fights dirty.”

“So do you,” Bucky says testily, with a pinch to your calf. But you’re laughing. Figures.

“Three,” Natasha says in a loud, bored voice. “Two. One. Go.”

Bucky chokes on pool water in the first ten seconds. But an excellently-timed shove from you has Sam scrambling to stay on Steve - and Steve hobbling around with a panicked look in his eye.

“‘I can swim,’ my eye,” Bucky taunts Steve. “You’re a liar, Rogers.”

More splashing, more choking, more laughing - more shoving and teasing and kicking and hitting - it’s a violent chicken fight, all in all - Bucky’s sure he’s going to come out with bruises. But he’s too busy enjoying himself, ganging up with you against Steve and Sam.

And Team 28 and Winter Soldier win, four dunks to two. Dirty fighting has its place - and that place is against Team Cap and Falcon.

“I’m beat,” you huff at last, sliding down off Bucky’s shoulders. “I don’t have your stamina, you absolute maniacs.”

Already Bucky misses your touch, the skin on skin, the warmth -

“I’m making drinks,” Clint hollers from the bar, where he’s standing in the shade. “Who wants one?”

“I think I’ll take one to Tony,” you call back. “I feel bad he’s missing all this.”

“I don’t think he missed Sam’s trunks falling down,” Natasha says dryly as you climb out of the pool. Bucky is staring - and he quickly looks away with a swallow as his face burns.

He’s already calculating how long he should stay in the pool before following you inside.

Four minutes and nineteen seconds after you disappeared into an elevator. Mumbling something about getting dehydrated, Bucky climbs out and picks up a towel to dry off. Sam is already talking about setting up a net for pool volleyball - does the man never tire?

“You’re burned, Barnes,” Natasha comments without moving her head. “There’s aloe inside, if you need it.”

“Er, thanks.” Bucky tosses the towel aside. “Think I’ll go grab a shirt.”

Into the elevator - still smelling of you - and Bucky sighs all the way to the residential levels. Why do you have to be with Tony? And what excuse can he make for dragging you out of the lab downstairs without making Tony suspicious?

The halls are dark after the bright sunlight in the dome above. Bucky shuffles along, and stalls in surprise as he hears a heartbeat coming from the cracked door leading into his bedroom.

Oh. Oh.

With a smile growing on his face, he pushes open the door with one hand, arching a brow to see you lying on his bed, stomach down, with your nose in the book he keeps on his bedside table. Then you lower the book, and smirk back.

“Oh, hello,” you say casually. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t you?” Bucky asks lightly, closing the door behind him. And locking it. Has he thought yet how attractive that swimsuit is? And how wonderful and perfect you look in his bed?

“Tony is asleep,” you deadpan. “Dead asleep over a lab table. So I looped the cameras to make it look like I’m down there - and decided to pay you a visit.”

“You didn’t know I’d come.”

“I planted a little idea in Natasha’s head. Told her how red you look. Figured you’d escape inside, especially if I’m not out there anymore.” The conniving grin on your face has Bucky howling with laughter. It’s just you, isn’t it? Exactly what you would do. His heart is swelling in his chest as you prop yourself on your knees with a glint in your eyes, tugging in close by the strings on his swim trunks.

“Now,” you murmur, as his face draws near. “Let’s see about celebrating that victory of ours.”

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