#the only boy ever & his rat but make them baseball lads

[meistoshim]

catcher raiden & pitcher satoshi be upon ye

[fazbear-security]

Secret Tunnels & Surprise Visits

Mike hadn’t had a week off in nearly two years, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

He’d slept as late as he could, but that had only taken him to 1pm, and most of his siblings had extra curricular activities that would keep them out until at least 6pm. His mother was working until at least then, when she picked up the kids, and Sasha’s curfew wasn’t until 11pm (and boy, did she wring it for every minute she could get). He’d tried cleaning up around the house, but that had only taken up part of his Thursday, and as much as his mother had appreciated his hard work, it hadn’t been enough to satisfy the itch in his idle hands.

The pizzeria was being renovated that weekend, and was closed from Thursday to the following Wednesday, so Mike had a good full six or seven days all to himself. Already out of things to do around the house after day one, he’d decided to tackle the one task he (and everyone else in the house) had been putting off for years.

Organizing the basement.

“You have a lot of stuff down here.” Puppet commented as he climbed up on top of an old gear locker shoved against the stairs. A pair of old workout gloves and a rolled up mat were still stuffed in it, along with a set of resistance bands. Mike made a point not to look at it. “Like, a LOT a lot.” The slender animatronic that had taken up residence under his bed poked at the curling edge of an old sticker on the side of the locker. “Don’t you guys throw anything out?”

“Does it look like it?” Mike asked rhetorically as he surveyed the mess. Where was the best place to start? Christmas ‘91? His old college stuff? That box of yearbooks that stretched all the way back to Tara’s freshman year of high school? “That’s what we’re down here to do today - pare down all this junk and get rid of the stuff we really don’t need.”

“That’s easier said than done…” Puppet eyed the mess from his perch up on the locker before jumping down, and curiously opening the nearest box. “You’ve got more stuff down here than the old location had in storage….oh!” The little animatronic leaned over the edge of the large box - almost falling in - before scrambling back out with a little box clutched in his striped fingers, and a wide smile on his mask.

“Hey! I remember these!!” He popped open the lid and ran a cloth fingertip over the enamel pins on the board inside while Mike picked another box in a stack across the room, and started to dig through it. “These are the commemorative pins from 1987! They had me give these to employees as a gift at a big party!” Puppet tilted his head curiously. “How’d they get down here?”

“The night shift isn’t the first time I’ve worked for Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, you know.” Mike made a face at the musty books inside the box he’d chosen, and closed it back up. His mother still might want to donate these to the library - best to just set these aside, for now. “I spent a few months making pizzas for the other location across town before I went to college. I was out sick when that party happened, but management gave me those pins the next day.”

“You mean...we could’ve met sooner?” Puppet looked down at the old pins - at the cutesy, cartoony faces of Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, Foxy, and the pizzeria’s logo - and some of his smile faded. Mike looked up from the box of old clothes he was sorting through at the heavy silence, and frowned.

“Don’t...don’t think too much about it, Puppet.” He advised, folding an old shirt that had stopped fitting a decade ago and setting it aside. “You wouldn’t have liked me when I was eighteen, anyway. I was kind of an as-...uh...kind of a jerk.” He quickly amended. Puppet frowned, and put the lid back on the box before jumping up and sliding it on top of the locker. He was absolutely keeping that.

“So?” The animatronic moved to Mike’s side, and stood as high as he could to try and  see into the clothing box. “I’ve dealt with sulky teenagers before.”

“I was a lot more than just ‘sulky’...” Mike winced. He’d been a jerk with a capital ‘J’ before he’d gone to college and gotten knocked off his pedestal. It was a miracle his parents had been able to put up with him for an entire year, honestly. “Be glad we met after I got my head on straight. It was for the best for both of us.” Puppet’s mask twisted into a frown, but Mike was determined for that to be the end of the topic, and moved the clothing box to get at the yearbooks beneath it.

“...huh?” Mike paused in the middle of opening the last box in the stack, and closed the flaps again to tilt it back, and get a better look at what had caught his attention. Puppet quickly perked up as the young man shifted the box across the floor, and off of a mysterious, rectangular shape still half-buried by all the clutter.

“Oh, cool! A secret door!” Puppet grabbed another stack of boxes and tried to push it off the shape, while Mike scratched his head in confusion.

“I...don’t remember this.” The human frowned, even as he helped Puppet to move the stack that weighed more than him. “I wonder if Mom or Dad knew about this?” He frowned as he cleared the last of the boxes off of what was now obviously some kind of old trapdoor. “Kind of seems like they tried to bury it.”

“Maybe it leads to a secret tunnel!” Puppet suggested eagerly. “Just like in that cartoon with the dog Pippa likes!” He started to bounce on his heels, and started to reach for the seam in the floor. “Let’s open it and see where it goes!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down, Puppet!” Mike snatched the little animatronic up under one arm, and stepped back before he could get his striped fingers into the crack. “We can’t just open it!” He argued. “We have no idea what might be down there - there could be rats, or spiders, or-”

THUNK.

“......” Both Mike and Puppet froze at the sound, and looked down at the trapdoor. “.....that’s a big rat.” Puppet whispered. Mike slowly - quietly - stepped back from the trapdoor, and the sound came again, only louder. He dropped Puppet back to his feet, and the little animatronic quickly hid behind the human, and dug his striped fingers into Mike’s red jacket as they both nervously watched the trapdoor.

THUNK. THUNK.

Something pounded on the trapdoor from below - something big - and a small puff of dust was kicked up from the space. Mike looked around frantically for something he could use as a weapon, and snatched up a baseball bat from another pile of junk. Luis hadn’t used it since his high school days. Surely, he wouldn’t mind?

THUNK THUNK THUNK.

The trapdoor began to rattle, and Mike swung the bat up over his shoulder as the rusty lock creaked and bent. Finally, the old metal snapped, and the trapdoor was thrown open by-....by Chica?

Mike’s brain ground to a halt as the animatronic chicken mascot from his workplace popped up through his floor, looking around with a curious hum at the cluttered basement before she laid optics on him, and broke out into a wide, toothy smile.

“Hi, Mr. Schmidt!! How’d you get here?”

“.......” The baseball bat fell out of Mike’s limp hands, and clattered to the floor. Puppet flinched at the loud sound, but Chica didn’t seem to register the human’s obvious shock, and came up the rest of the stairs and into the basement.

“Guys!” She shouted back down the stairs. “Mike’s here!” Behind her, Bonnie’s ears appeared before the rest of him, and Foxy’s hook scratched at the edge of the trapdoor hole as he hauled himself up out of the tunnel that yawned beneath the basement floor. Mike sucked in a breath through his teeth as the pirate fox - and other figures that, in no way, should have ever been in his house - rose up from beneath the floor, and stretched his limbs.

“Aaarrr, ‘tis about time!” Foxy grumbled, leaning back as if to stretch out a kink in his spine. “We’ve been walkin’ fer hours! I thought we’d be ‘alfway t’ Tortuga by now!”

“We were only down there for twenty minutes, at best.” Bonnie argued as he climbed out. “Your internal clock must be broken!”

“Jus’ like th’ rest o’ me, ey?” Foxy turned an irritable glare upon the rabbit, but his expression immediately softened when he noticed the audience Bonnie had not. “Oh! Mike! How ye’ be, lad? Ain’t seen ye’ since Wednesday eve’!” Puppet looked up at the human he hid behind with wide eyes, and Mike found the presence of mind to lower his hands from their raised position.

“....you’re in my house.” He said eloquently. Bonnie and Foxy both tipped their ears forward, and looked around the basement.

“This be your house?” Foxy flipped up his eyepatch for a better look. “It be….uh….cozy?” Bonnie shook his head and smacked the fox on the arm.

“This isn’t the whole place, buckethead.” He scoffed. “There’s an upstairs, see?” He pointed to the basement stairs, and Mike looked over just in time to see Chica’s tailfeathers disappearing at the top. His heart skipped a beat or two.“This is just a basement!” The rabbit hopped over a box on the floor, and headed up the stairs himself. “Chica, wait for me!”

“I knew that!” Foxy huffed back with a lash of his tail. The basement started to feel a little small, and Mike pulled another breath in through his teeth. Oh, god. He’d had nightmares just like this, back when he’d first started on the night shift...except he wasn’t sleeping now. He was awake, and this was real-

“I, ah, don’t suppose I could get a hand?” Mike froze, and slowly looked back down at the trapdoor to see Freddy himself seemingly wedged in the stairway opening. Behind him, he could also see the glow from Sam’s LED hat band, somewhere back within the tunnel. “I’m not as slim as the rest of you, you know!” The bear admitted.

“Aye, let’s get’che out o’ there.” Foxy reached out with his good hand to grab Freddy’s and started to pull, with Sam - presumably - pushing from behind. After a few more seconds of staring, Puppet edged out from behind Mike to help. Mike, however, remained frozen in place, and a few shades paler than he probably should have been as he tried to comprehend how one of his darkest nightmares was becoming reality right before his eyes-

“Oh, wow!” Chica’s voice echoed from somewhere upstairs - somewhere on the second floor. “It looks like Parts & Services up here, only better lit! Bonnie, you have to come see this!”

“That’s my-! Oh no.” Mike’s eyes popped wide, and he finally broke out of his frozen stupor to bolt for the stairs, leaving Puppet, Foxy, and Sam alone to try and pry the pizzeria star out through the too-small trapdoor in the floor. “That’s my room! Don’t touch anything!”

He passed Bonnie in the living room, seemingly enamoured by the many framed photos hung up behind the couch, and nearly tripped running up the stairs before he caught himself on the banister. It wasn’t until he’d made it up to the landing and thrown open his bedroom door that Mike realized that he...had no real plan for confronting the animatronic inside. He froze again in the doorway, panting, and struggling for words as Chica ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed over the variety of drawings and unfinished projects strewn about his desk.

“Whoa!!!” Chica picked up a pipe-and-wire hand model that he’d given up on three months ago, and cradled it in her hands with the reverence of a child holding a coveted toy for the first time. “This is just like our endoskeletons! Mr. Schmidt, I didn’t know you could build things!”

“I-. Uh. Um.” The unexpected praise made it even harder for Mike to find his words, and he stumbled for an embarrassingly long time before he heard the creaking of the stairs, and felt a towering presence at his back.

“Oh, neat!” Bonnie pushed his way into the room, causing Mike to stumble forward, as well, and gleefully batted at the punching bag still hanging from the ceiling next to his bed. “Heheh, what’s this thing? Does it make noise?”

“No, it-. It doesn’t make noise.” Mike reached out a hand to stop the bag from swinging, and hoped the feeling of the synthetic leather against his hand would help snap him back to reality. It didn’t do much. “It’s for hitting.”

“Oh.” Bonnie seemed to lose interest at this answer, and turned to face Chica, who had moved on to looking at the posters and pictures hanging on the wall. “Oh!” Bonnie zeroed in on one in particular, and Mike winced internally. “Who’s this kid? I haven’t seen them at the pizzeria before.”

“Yeah, you have. That’s, uh.” Mike found himself wishing he’d never framed that dumb childhood photo. “That’s me.”

“That’s you?!” Bonnie and Chica both crowded around the frame, now, and Mike prayed to any deity listening that his floor would hold under them. “Aww! You used to be so cute!”

“Bonnie!” Chica gasped, and tweaked one of the rabbit’s ears. “That’s so rude! He’s still cute!”

“......” Mike pressed both hands over his face, and leaned back until he was sitting on his bed as the two animatronics began to squabble.

Maybe, if he just sat here for long enough, his brain would get tired of this nightmare, and he’d wake up?

[talk-to-the-mercs]

How about, for introducing tiny scout to big scout, try making baseball a big topic. Either baseball or inflate their ego. Just a suggestion.

Medic: Heavy, do you think little Scout is ready for the combining process?

Heavy: Heavy thinks so.

Little Scout: W-what’s that?

Heavy: Little Scout and Bigger Scout make Best Scout. Whole Scout. See in glass?

Little Scout: But...what if it hurts me?

Heavy: Docktor will watch. He make sure you don’t get hurt.

Little Scout: Promise? Pinky swear?

Heavy: Heavy promises. Promises with whole heart.

Medic: Here, mein liebchen, let me take you to see him.

Engineer: You’re gonna use the separation and observin’ chamber, right?

Medic: Ah, yes. How I have missed those multiverse days...

Engineer: Heavy, have you got Big Scout?

Heavy: Still asleep, but yes.

Engineer: [whispers] Make sure not to wake him up. We don’t wanna scare Little Scout right off the bat.

Heavy: Heavy will carry gently.

[10:43 minutes pass]

Medic: Alright, Little Scout, he is still asleep. There is a thick, glass wall between you that is virtually unbreakable. You do not have to vurry.

Engineer: Has a Hyde ever...it couldn’t...?

Medic: Only vun rat out of many.

Demo: Should we wake th’ lad up?

Medic: Ve vant this to be as slow as possible. Luckily, ve have many suggestions that all seem sound enough. Ve vill try them vun by vun.

Engineer: Oh! I think he’s awake! Turn on the microphone, doc!

[Maddened screams and banging, followed by feedback]

Demo: Th’ boy had some pipes, I’ll give him that...

Medic: Engie, vill you hand me vun of my textbooks? I think it may be helpful. Danke.

[The sound of a book being slammed shut, followed by more feedback and silence]

Engineer: Hysteria shock?

Medic: Hysteria shock. [addressing both Scouts] Now that everything has settled, let’s begin.

Big Scout: When I’m outta here, I’m gonna kill you!

Medic: Ve vill have a fight to the death as soon as you get out. But first I have to make sure you’re strong enough.

Big Scout: Oh yeah? Try me, ya [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]!

Engineer: Ho-ly smokes.

Medic: [clearing his throat] I’m afraid censorship is not a Hyde’s strong suit...

Demo: I didn’ even know Scout knew words like that...

Medic: Alright, Dreckiger Mund, here is your first test. Explain the sport baseball.

Big Scout: Hell yeah! See, there’s this guy with a bat, and he...[microphone is cut off]

Medic: Let’s see if Little Scout becomes interested. Passion always overcomes fear...

Engineer: He’s listenin’, but he doesn’t seem...all there. Look at his eyes.

Medic: Listening is a learned response...a love for something is not...perhaps it isn’t compatible. Let’s see if he will respond to direct questioning.

Big Scout: - and there’s this whole deal with a goat, but that’s nothin’ compared to the fried chicken statue-

Medic: Alright, Scout, you have proven your knowledge. Little Scout, do you have anything to add?

Little Scout: N-no...you can keep talking...if you want...

Medic: Mm, just as I thought. It vas a vonderful suggestion, but these things can be more complicated than they seem.

[END OF TRANSMISSION]

[aforrestofstuff]

Seeing the ask about Badd using his bat to pole vault onto the lamppost made me wonder, do you think any of the S class heroes did sports?

Shit, this is an OLD ask. I’m really sorry I’m so bad at answering stuff. I really do appreciate you guys asking me things, I just have ✨a terrible attention span✨and ✨chronic “forget shit all the time” syndrome✨. But thanks anyways anon, I hope you’re still there. ❤️❤️

Was an actual jock:

Silverfang: I’ve said this before, but I highkey hc that he was an airheaded jock like Suiryu back in the day, only kinder. As a younger lad, he was just as much of a martial arts legend as he is now and gave his absolute ALL in training.

Atomic Samurai: idk if I’ve said this before, but I hc that he was unbelievably serious way back when and devoted every second of every day to mastering swordsmanship when he was younger. He didn’t really have a brain outside of doing that, so he’s a jock.

Zombieman: dabbled in sports back in the day, pre-Genus era. He played here and there throughout high school, but that’s about it. He was really good because he’s athletic, but he didn’t really put much into it.

Superalloy Darkshine: this one is self-explanatory. He’s an actual gym rat. He wasn’t active in sports as a young lad (because ✨tragic backstory✨), but he participates in a lot of weightlifting and bodybuilding competitions now. He’s a really cool dude to work out with, too. Love that for him.

Tanktop Master: also self-explanatory. He and Superalloy both live at the gym, practically. And whenever he’s not entering friendly competitions, he’s helping the rest of the Tanktop Gang get ripped. He was also active in sports as a teen, participating in it year-round all throughout high school and college, often being the star player.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: Nowadays, he absolutely owns it in the prison courtyard. He often helps his fellow prisoners get ripped alongside himself. When he was younger, however, he devoted most of his time to fine arts extracurriculars rather than sports. He has a ✨dramatic flair✨

Did sports because their parents made them do it:

Child Emperor: his parents got concerned that he was spending too much time building weapons and not doing any actual physical activity. They enrolled him in soccer even though he made a very convincing 87-slide PowerPoint on why that would be a bad idea. He was right, it was a bad idea. He absolutely sucks at sports.

Metal Bat: The first bat he used to fight monsters with was actually just an old one he already had from his time spent on a little league baseball team as a young lad. His mom shoved him into it thinking it’d help him make some friends because the other kids on the block were intimidated by him.

King: The only sports he knows is Esports. This one is self-explanatory. He’s never finished watching a sports broadcast in his life. However, his mom forced him into a multitude of sports as a kid because she was concerned that he wasn’t making any friends (due in part to him spending too much time on THAT DAMN COMPUTER). He was on so many different teams. It doesn’t even matter much now because he didn’t retain a SINGLE thing from that part of his life lol.

What the actual fuck is a football:

Tatsumaki: She spent her childhood in a lab, okay? And even if she didn’t, she couldn’t play sports anyways because her powers would give her a bit of an unfair advantage. Just a smidge.

Metal Knight: Thinks sports are for smooth-brained FOOLS and because of it, doesn’t know jack shit about any sport ever (besides maybe chess, because he’s a nerd).

Drive Knight: beep boop.

Pig God: Like King, the only sports-related thing he watches is Esports. I’ve said this a million times but boy be playing those video games! All the time! And he’s good at them too!

Watchdog Man: the only sport he knows is fetch and maybe that one racing tournament where it’s just corgis sprinting towards a finish line like, 10 feet away from the starting point.

Flashy Flash: he grew up in a secluded village without the slightest ounce of fun or playful competition, so it’s safe so say that he wouldn’t know a thing about sports. He’s too pretty to participate anyway.

Genos: Genos would do hours upon hours of research on a particular sport because Saitama offhandedly referenced it in a conversation they had and that’s about it. He spent his teen years as a robot so, not a lot of opportunities to participate in anything.

Thanks again anon! ❤️❤️