#rain code ship week

[raincodeshipweek]

Can you believe it guys? Rain Code Ship Week, just a week away! Rain Code Ship Week is in a week! Woo-hoo! I am so happy about this information. Rain Code Ship Week, just a week away. Oh, wow! Can you believe it? Rain Code Ship Week, just in a week! It got here so fast. Rain Code Ship Week, just a-

[elina-sakura]

Rain Code Ship Week Day 3

And now here is my start in the Rain Code Ship Week, starting with my favorite Rain Code Ships: Kokobolt! Thanks again to BrightStar for approving my outline, and DraconicSparkle for beta-reading the fic.

[kawaiiwaifu-theartist]

Raincode Ship Week #1 (All Statsonell) - Comfort/Hurt and Healing

(This post will contain contents of self harm. Do be aware and warned.)

Swank was attempting to try and cook by what his lover said to him, a basic eggs and bacons dish with special ramen. Nothing too luxurious or expensive, just something simple for the change. Especially since the obese rich man lived lavishly, with it being simple now would make a change of pace for his new life.

As he was doing so. He thought for awhile about what should he and Kuro should do for the time being, looking around as he noticed that the black haired detective didn't come out of his room yet. Maybe he's busy with changing his clothes.

Either way, what was Swank was cooking had finished being on the frying pan, he tried to carefully place them onto the plates. Aligning them and doing it successfully with a sigh of relief. First time being the one to cook instead is quite an experience. Though... Something was amidst.

All of a sudden, the door slammed open a bit. Who was there at the doorway was Kuro. Swank looked over as he spoke "There you are. I already made the food, what took you long in there-" And there he noticed it, Kuro's arm bleeding red a bit by some cuts that were fresh and recent. He immediately went over to him as checked to see it "What the hell did you do?!"

Kuro glanced away from Swank before he spoke "...I cut myself again." His view looking at the cuts he made as the former peacekeeper looked in shock "Again?! You mean this isn't the 1st time?!" He asked with a raised voice, groaning in annoyance as he went to get the bandages to mend the wound. The black haired detective watched for awhile once Swank came back with it and started to try and clean the wounds before wrapping the bandages around the arm.

Once he done that, the former peacekeeper soon checked Kuro's other arm to see if there's anymore of them. Seeing that was all of them, he sighed in relief as he looked to the detective's face, looking concern by what had just happened "Listen. I know that I don't care much for others, but you doing that is not ok."

"I know, but-" Kuro was soon interrupted by Swank's sudden speak up "No but's! You and I are living together in this apartment of yours with that other detective. So by this, were both taking care of each other. That's what you said when we both left Kanai Ward, right?"

The black haired detective glanced away before looking back to his lover. Deciding to nod for awhile as he hugged the man, feeling much better by this as Swank hugged Kuro back. Carrying up while the detective was holding onto him around the neck, "Well. That was easier than I imagined, but were gonna eat."

And just as he was looking over to the food he was making, the Disguise Detective, Desuhiko Thunderbolt, was already eating the eggs and bacons that were made. Slowly turning around to look to them. "...Uh." His eyes looked around for awhile before they looked back "I was hungry."

The two men look with a deadpan and annoyed look at him as Desuhiko attempted to make a run for it as Kuro immediately got out of Swank's grasp and chased after the lime green eyed detective.

[snivyartjpeg]

in which desuhiko shares a new band with yuma to get him into music and yuma likes it so much he shares it with his boss-roommate-chief-friend. no consequences occur

[zok0k0]

🗡️ Raincode Ship week Day 1: Hurt 🗡️ [Makoyuma]

[sofieflee]

Rain Code Ship Week Day 1 - Healing

Not only do I have a late start, I will also be going through these prompts at a snails pace.

[cupideya1314]

Ballroom Dance

Raincode Ship Week: Day 2!! The prompt is Dancing | Domesticity I chose dance cuz I love it when that happens to ships HAHAH and I thought it be cute to see Melami and Halara dance together with fancy clothes on

So yeah, I'm that one person with this rare pair And I stand alone on this hill :'> I cook and I eat it too ! Reference belowww

As much as I loveeeee dancing poses, its hard to draw them huehue

apparently the image came from hereee : https://www.rounddancing.net/dance/astaire/lateryears.html I had fun coloring the clothes heheh, especially melami's when i hear "Glam" i just think of holographic colors And the BG, it's just a stock image from google of a ballroom hahah

Anyways Imma ramble how I think these two would have that enemies or rivalry dynamic lol. Maybe Halara thinks Melami is smug or condescending towards them and Melami thinks Halara is arrogant and a know-it-all hahahah Idk I see that for them but they somehow get along nicely they have the usual banter and become impressed by each other's capability. And they get petty enough to one-up each other in finding evidence or make deductions PFFT I DONT KNOW ALRIGHT, THIS IS JUST MY VISION OKAY?!? They just match well in my eyesssss

[brightstarblogs]

And After All This Time, I’m Still Into You (RainCode Ship Week Day 2: Dancing | Domesticity)

Please click here to read!

Rating: Mature Relationships: Yuma Kokohead/Desuhiko Thunderbolt Characters: Desuhiko Thunderbolt, Yuma Kokohead

Summary: A day in the married life of Yuma Kokohead and Desuhiko Thunderbolt and how they navigate living together and doing chores around their busy job schedules.

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 5! (SORT OF?)

Now I will admit, I had this idea written before ship week, but when the prompts were announced I knew this piece would work perfectly for today, so I held off posting until now! I had a lot of fun writing these two as a married couple, and fair warning, there's a lot of flirting/dirty humor going on here. Desuhiko may be married but he's still Desuhiko XD

@raincodeshipweek

[biggie-chcese]

So, this idea has been brewing in my mind for a while, and I think I'd like to see it be real. so, I'm going to gauge the fandom's general interest about this:

More details under the cut, if you may have questions:

What ship is this about?

Any of them! This is a general Rain Code ship week, which means that anyone can participate! Wholesome ships? Sure! Toxic ships? Go wild! Selfshipping? Of course! OC x Canon? Absolutely! Of course, I'll be sure to tag any and all entries properly on the Tumblr blog for this event, should it come to fruition.

When will this week take place?

I'm gunning for late July/early August, since there are no other Rain Code events happening at that time, and it gives people time to create as well. If enough are interested, I will solidify the date.

Will NSFW entries be allowed?

I am... tentative about this, since I want to allow minors to participate in the event. However, I've decided I will give a ruleset for this: all NSFW entries must be properly tagged and at least put under a Read More (or, if on Twitter, censored by a content warning). I would vastly prefer, however, if they are posted through a separate link (such as AO3 for fics, or Pixiv/Poipiku for art) and labelled as 18+ content. The week's blog or Twitter account will not be reblogging/sharing NSFW entries otherwise!

Are spoilers allowed?

Absolutely! I ask that you please tag them, though. The blog, too, will tag them, but the Twitter account won't.

Also, if this event happens, I'd love to be able to reach out to non-western fans and share with them as well, but I don't know their languages. If anyone is interested and would like to translate the eventual prompt sheet to Japanese or Chinese, please let me know!

One last thing: I do not care about shipping discourse.

I hope that clears up any further questions you may have regarding this topic.

Thank you for reading!

[chiefyakousdilftits]

Seeing that Rain Code Ship Week is in August, 🤠✨🥂

[zaggyzoo]

bad day all around 👎🏻

[raincodeshipweek]

RAIN CODE SHIP WEEK | AUGUST 8TH - AUGUST 14TH

This ship week is meant to celebrate all ships in Rain Code! Canon x Canon, OC x Canon, Crackships, and Selfshipping are all welcome!

To participate: During the week, tag your posts as #raincodeshipweek2024 or @ this account!

Before posting, please regard the rules and info in the Introduction Post!

The prompts were put together thanks to the community's votes, so here's the list in plain text + more info:

Prompts:

Day 1: Hurt/Comfort | Healing

Day 2: Dancing | Domesticity

Day 3: Sun/Rain | Stars

Day 4: Flowers | Memories

Day 5: First Times/Final Moments | Swap

Day 6: Alternate Universe | Past/Future

Day 7: Free Day!

Art, fic, edits, cosplay, and creations of any form are welcome! If you feel stuck on Free Day, you can try some prompts suggested by others such as: Comfort, Sleep, Fluidity, Costume, Opposites, and Different Timeline.

If your curious about the votes, here's a complete breakdown:

Thank you to everyone who voted, and let's have an amazing week!

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 6: SOME SORT OF SICK, SELF-INFLICTED SCHADENFREUDE 

synopsis: amanda confronts connor about his growing attachments. hank is found near-dead on his kitchen floor and brings about conversations that drudge up bad memories.

word count: 3.2k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: i promise i have a life i just have nothing to do. so double update. possibly triple if i don't crash and take a six hour nap

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

Connor’s mind palace was, for once, a little turbulent. Usually, it was sunny skies and pleasant, not-too-balmy warmth, but today, it’s raining. Not a torrential downpour, but not a light drizzle, either. 

He looks down and sees a closed umbrella in his hand. The rain doesn’t bother him, nor does the wet permeating his clothes. 

Instead of opening it, he starts walking along the marble that makes up the main path. His dress shoes don’t slip on the puddles that collect on it. Droplets of water collect in his hair and run down the apples of his cheeks to drip off his jaw. 

The strange stone glows before him, its reason for existing ever evading him. He kneels and reaches towards it, his skin peeling back in an automatic response. His hand just barely touches it, and it responds with a thrum of energy, as if alive.

He stands and takes a step back, heaving an artificial and unneeded breath. He turns his back on it and continues walking on the path.

Connor comes to a stop before Amanda, who is adorned in whites, greys, and a soft yellow. The bracelets that cover her forearms and the necklace that rests on her upper chest are fragmented white squares, contrasting against her dark skin. 

“Hello, Amanda,” Connor greets. 

“I’ve been expecting you,” Amanda says, her voice even and cool as ever. “Would you mind a little walk?”

Connor moves beside her and opens the umbrella, then swings it over his shoulder so that they’re both protected from the rain. They start walking, with Connor slowing his pace to match Amanda’s.

“Congratulations, Connor,” Amanda says. Connor turns to look at her just in time to see her faintly smile. “You managed to find that deviant. Tell me, what did you learn?”

“An Officer I’m working with found its diary, but it was encrypted,” Connor says. “It may take weeks to decipher.”

“What else?” Amanda prompts. 

“The walls of the apartment were covered with drawings of labyrinths and other symbols.” His eyebrows furrow a little. “Like the other deviants, it seemed obsessed with rA9. The Officer suggested that it was mere superstition, but… I’m not so sure.”

“Hm.” Amanda hums. “You came very close to capturing that deviant. It’s a pity you let it self-destruct.”

Connor would be a fool if he missed the tone of blame in Amanda’s voice. There’s a tiny voice between the lines of his code (that strangely sounds like yours) telling him to snap back. To tell her that it had a revolver, and that it put the barrel to the soft part of the underside of its chin before he had a chance to stop it.

But he doesn’t. He holds his tongue and molds the words to be polite, like his program tells him to do. (And he blames himself, like his program tells him to do.)

“I knew deviants had a tendency to self-destruct under extreme stress,” Connor says. “But I didn’t expect it to use its last bullet to deactivate itself. I should’ve anticipated that – the Officer even told me that it still had a bullet in the chamber.”

“And you’d readily trust the word of a Soviet?” Amanda asks. 

“Not any Soviet,” Connor responds. “Just this one.”

Amanda gives a disapproving hum. “You easily go against your instructions when in their presence. They told you to leave their apartment, and yet you insisted on staying.”

“My second-top priority is the safety of my partners, just behind hunting deviants,” Connor says. “There were no deviants present. The Officer was hurt. I simply offered my help.”

“They weren’t hurt,” Amanda points out. “It was just their prosthetic that needed repairs.”

“Like I told them, unsatisfactory repairs could possibly cause worse damage than the initial damage,” Connor says. He sets his jaw as his programming nudges him. “But you’re right. I should’ve listened to their instructions.”

Amanda nods, like she approves of Connor’s self-blame. “How are your relationships with your partners developing?”

“As I grow closer to the Officer, it seems I grow closer to Hank,” Connor says. “It’s like they come as a pair, as unlikely as that is. They don’t mind androids, but refused to elaborate on why Hank despises them. It seems some topics are off-limits, like that and the story behind their half-leg prosthetic. I’ll have to look into it on my own.”

When he looks to the side, Amanda’s stopped a few feet behind him. “We don’t have much time.”

Connor turns to face her fully. 

“Deviancy continues to spread. And it’s only a matter of time before the media finds out about it,” she continues. “We need to stop this, whatever it takes.”

“I will solve this investigation, Amanda,” Connor promises. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Amanda glances away, then looks back to Connor. “The Officer just sent you a message about a new case that just came in. They’re asking if you want to find Anderson and investigate it.”

With that, she turns and walks away, her gown and flowing fabrics dappled by the rain.

“What purpose does this serve, Officer?” Connor asks, examining a little toy that dangles from your rearview mirror. It’s a little plastic figure, no more than three inches in height, of Soviet Boy – a little guy dressed politely in a blue shirt, shorts, and a red ascot stamped with a golden hammer and sickle.

“It’s just something I brought over,” you say, your eyes on the road. “It’s Soviet Boy. Don’t you recognize him?”

“He’s the star of many animated shorts geared towards children featuring themes of anti-capitalism and pro-communism,” Connor says. 

You laugh and adjust your grip on the steering wheel. “You’re looking stuff up again.”

“I… I am,” Connor admits after a few moments. 

“No shame in that,” you say. “I’m… I’m glad you’re trying to relate to me. Not a lot of people ask about the little bits and bobs I have scattered around.”

“Why not?” Connor asks. “You can tell a lot about a person from what they surround themselves with.”

“Please,” you laugh. “Don’t psychoanalyze me. Save it for Hank. Speaking of…”

You pull off the road and park on the side of the street. You put your car into park and switch off the ignition. “We’re here.”

Connor follows you as you walk up the path to Hank’s cute cookie-cutter suburban home. You ring the buzzer for a second, causing a harsh sound to go off inside the house.

“Hank!” You call. “It’s me and Connor!”

No response. You pull away and turn to the potted plants and start digging through the loose dirt. 

“What are you doing?” Connor asks, almost incredulously.

“Trying to find his spare key. It was here last time,” you say. “Try the buzzer again.”

Connor holds down the buzzer for more than ten seconds this time. You laugh softly and wipe your hands of dirt. 

“Try to find a key by the backdoor,” you say. “I’ll continue rooting around here.”

“Got it.” Connor disappears around the corner. 

As you turn to another unsearched-through potted plant, you hear the shatter of glass. Your head immediately snaps up and you run around the side of the house.

You turn the corner just in time to see Connor launch himself through Hank’s kitchen window. You peek your head in and see Connor almost cowering away from Sumo.

“Ah – easy, S-Sumo!” He tries, holding up a hand. There’s obvious nervousness and a slight hint of fear in his voice. “I’m your friend, see?”

You stick a hand through the broken window to lightly tug on Sumo’s drooping jowls. “​​Hey, big guy! Don’t worry, you big baby. He’s fine.”

You glance away from Sumo and see Hank, sprawled out on the ground. Alcohol pools around him, and you can just barely see the handle of a revolver nearby.

“Check his breathing!” You bark, pointing at Hank. “Roll him on his side! I don’t want him choking on his own vomit!”

Connor runs over to Hank’s side and kneels. You brace yourself and clamber through the window awkwardly, landing on your back with a guttural groan. 

“I’m fine.” You brush pieces of broken glass off your clothes, careful not to cut yourself. “How’s Hank? Is he okay?”

Connor looks up at you. “I suspect an ethylic coma.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” You snap.

“An alcohol-induced coma,” Connor says. “His heart shows no signs of trauma, but there is slight arrhythmia.”

You kneel by Connor and pick up the bottle of whiskey and the gun. You set them on the table, then look down at Hank.

“Oh, Hank,” you mutter, nudging him softly. “Что же ты наделал?”

“Lieutenant?” Connor says, almost in a sing-song voice. He lightly slaps Hank’s face, causing him to groan and sputter. 

“Wake up, Lieutenant! It’s me, Connor!” Connor brings his hand down harder across Hank’s face, causing him to startle awake.

“We’re going to sober you up for your own safety.” Connor helps Hank up, similar to how Hank helped you on the roof. “I have to warn you, this may be unpleasant.”

“Heeey!” Hank slurs. “Leave me alone, you fuckin’ android! Get the fuck outta my house!”

You slot yourself under Hank’s other arm, helping Connor get him off the ground. “Come on, you goddamn drunkard. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Fuckin’ liar!” Hank groans your name. “You’re – you lied to me! Half-android…”

He then fully turns to you (which seems to be a difficult task, as uncoordinated as he is). He says your name again, softer, but still slurred. “I… I lost your flask.”

“Don’t worry, Hank,” you say. The weight of his flask weighs heavy against your chest in your inner jacket pocket. “You’re okay.” 

You look over at Connor. “Where are we taking him?”

“The bathroom,” Connor says. He starts to walk, and you match his pace. 

“Sumo!” Hank shouts. “Attack!”

Sumo gives a full-bellied bark, but doesn’t move from where he’s parked on the floor. Hank praises him with a slurred “Good dog.”

You turn the corner in tandem with Connor. “The bathroom’s on the right. I’ll open the door. Will you be able to hold him?”

“Yes.” Connor steadies his grip around Hank’s waist.

You let go and open the door to the bathroom, ushering them inside. You move out of the way as Connor practically drags Hank along.

“Leave me alone, you asshole!” Hank slurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Connor sets Hank on the edge of the bathtub. Hank looks around, confused, then back up at Connor. “Oh, nuh-uh. I don’t wanna bath, thank you.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Connor pushes Hank down so that he’s sitting in the tub. “It’s for your own good.”

As soon as Connor turns on the showerhead, Hank howls with pleas of “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

Connor lets the torture continue for a couple more seconds before turning off the water. Hank looks around, disoriented, then up at you and Connor. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“A homicide was reported 43 minutes ago,” Connor says. “We couldn’t find you at Jimmy’s Bar, so we came to see if you were at home.”

“Jesus.” Hank groans as he sits up on the edge of the tub. “I must be the only cop in the world that gets assaulted in his own house by his own fuckin’ android…”

Hank points at you. “And you! You didn’t do anythin’ to stop him?”

“You were drunk, Hank.” You shrug. “You know I hate seeing you like this.”

He looks away, shame painted clearly on his face. He tries to stand, but wobbles in place. Connor catches him as he starts to fall and sits him back in the bathtub.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” He eventually asks Connor. “Just go with them and leave me here.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot,” Connor says. “I’ve been programmed to investigate this case, and I can’t do it without you. I need both the Officer and the Lieutenant for maximum efficiency.”

“Beat it! You hear me?” Hank shouts as he pulls himself up to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Get the hell outta here!”

Connor looks at you with some kind of look on his face – the look that lets you know that he’s up to no good. He leisurely strolls toward the exit of the bathroom, slow and deliberate.

“I understand. It probably wasn’t interesting anyway,” he says. “A man found dead in a sex club downtown… guess they’ll have to solve the case without us!”

You hide a laugh behind a cough as Hank mumbles, “Y’know, probably wouldn’t do me any harm to get some air.”

He shifts on the edge of the bathtub. “There’s some clothes in the bedroom there.”

Connor picks up on what he’s asking for. “I’ll go get them.”

“I’ll go check on Sumo,” you say. “Make sure he has enough water and all that. Don’t choke on your own vomit while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try,” Hank mumbles as he drags himself to the toilet.

You wander to the kitchen. Sumo barks at you as you pass by, his tail thumping as it hits the floor. You squat in front of him, scratching behind his ear. He leans into your touch and one of his hind feet repeatedly taps against the floor.

“Oh, scratchy spot?” You laugh softly. “Feel good, Мишка?”

A voice sounds behind you. “What is a ‘scratchy spot’?” 

You yelp, shooting to your feet and stumbling backwards. Your feet catch on Sumo and you can feel yourself falling –

Connor catches both your arms, pulling you to your feet. He pulls a little too quickly, sending you into his chest. You move away, not giving yourself time to savor the coolness of his body against yours. 

“Are you okay?” Connor asks. 

“You keep scaring me,” you say. “I should bell you. Like my cat.”

“I feel like that would be detrimental to the case,” he says. “It would give away the element of surprise that’s needed on some outings.”

You look over at him. “That was sarcasm.”

“I apologize,” Connor says. “I don’t… easily pick up on it.”

“It’s okay.” You turn back to Sumo and kneel down next to him. “You okay, boy? Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Sumo’s tail wags and he pants happily. “Good,” you coo. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I did.”

“Is Sumo… normally this docile?” Connor asks.

“Yeah.” You look up at him. “Wanna pet him? He’s soft.”

Connor kneels beside you, tentatively reaching out a hand. He repeatedly pulls back and reaches forward, as if wondering if what you said was true.

“You’re taking too long.” You take his hand and put it on Sumo’s shoulder, then move it in a petting motion. After a few strokes, you let go. Connor continues on his own.

You stand and smile to yourself. Connor looks nice like this. Like he’s a socially-stunted friend (which you immediately question, because – is he your friend?) and you’re teaching him how to interact with the world.

Connor looks up at you, still petting Sumo. “Am I doing it right?”

“Do you see Sumo complaining?” You laugh. “He’d be happy with any affection you give him.”

You look over at the kitchen. The revolver is still on the table. “I… I actually need to go check something.”

“The gun?” Connor asks. He stands, ready to follow.

“Yes.” You move over to the table and pick up the revolver. You flick it to the side, and the chamber opens. The bullet is in the right position to be fired.

“Ask him what he was doing,” you tell Connor softly. Your eyes never leave the bullet.

“Hank, what were you doing with the gun?” Connor calls.

“Russian roulette!” Hank shouts back, his words still a bit slurred. “Wanted to see how long I could last… must’ve collapsed before I found out.”

“You were lucky,” Connor says. “The next shot would’ve killed you.”

“We were all lucky,” you say, just quiet enough for Connor to hear. You pluck the bullet from the chamber and put it in your pocket, then put the gun down. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy cleaning brain-matter-confetti off the walls.”

“Is Hank getting help?” Connor asks. “Psychological help, I mean.”

“No.” You look at the face-down picture frame on the table. You already know whose photo it is. “Not for my lack of trying, though.”

Connor reaches for the small frame, and you catch his wrist. You hesitate for a moment, then let go. He needs to know this. Deserves to know this.

He picks it up, turning it face-side-up. It’s the photo that would’ve been used for Cole’s kindergarten graduation. Just seeing the picture causes a deep pang in your chest, so painful and real you’d think someone had actually stabbed you.

You grab the picture from Connor’s hands, your own shaking a little as you return it to its original face-down position. “Don’t talk about this to Hank.”

“I won’t,” Connor responds, his voice just as quiet.

You grab his upper arm, looking him in the eye. “I’m serious. Please.”

Connor lays a hand over where yours rests. “I promise.”

You bring your hand away and step back, forcing distance between you and him. You look over at the face-down photo. Even just the small frame, the one that holds the photo of that small child hurts to look at. 

“Earlier, Hank said he lost his flask,” Connor says. You’re glad for the change in topic. “Why did he seem so apologetic?”

“It was a gift.” You pull out the flask from your inner jacket pocket, handing it to Connor. It still has whiskey in it. “A gag gift. One to make fun of him.”

He examines it thoroughly, running a thumb over the engraving that reads Anderson. “A lot of detail was put into the lettering. And the date on the bottom is November of 2031.”

“For when he turned Lieutenant,” you say. “He used to be really straight edge – only drinking on weekends, and only socially. It was funny because he’d never find a use for a flask.”

“But he did.” Connor looks up and meets your eyes. You look away, your face suddenly hot with shame.

“I should’ve taken it earlier,” you say softly. 

“It’s not your fault,” Connor says, his voice soft and compassionate. You really hope it isn’t fake. “You gave it to him years before…”

His eyes turn to the face-down photo frame. You take the flask back, turning it over in your hands.

“Before everything happened,” you finish. “I still feel ashamed. No words will change that.”

“Just keep the flask away from him,” Connor says. “It won’t keep him from drinking, but it might make you feel better.”

“Maybe.” You run a thumb over the engraving. Anderson stares back at you, in neat Courier New. “God, I hope so…”

[rindragon-from-twewy]

Mmmm forte swap au brain rot upon ye!

I've already completed designs for everyone at the NDA but I wanna space out the posts a bit cuz I don't think I'd be able to say all I'd want to in just one post!

Ramble about character info below; (+spoilers for all of mdarc)

Obviously this is based on my silly doodles for rain code ship week but I've actually started putting a lot of thought in to this now! (I've had waaaaaaay too much free time recently and I'm blessed with the ability to come up with lore/world building very quickly given enough motivation!)

So first off: Why Storm Cypher? Well cuz it's a protagonist swap! Desuhiko's now the amnesiac trainee being haunted by Shinigami so it made sense in my opinion to make this au's name reflectant of his last name, Thunderbolt. So that's where the 'Storm' comes from. 'Cypher' because it's a form of code and... well I just think it sounds nice basically! I do what I do for my own enjoyment, I don't always need to have a reason - no matter what my teachers say.

Also I decided to change some (Not all) character's last name's to better reflect their newly assigned fortes.

Anyway- It's character info dumping time!!!

Desuhiko, like og Yuma, has absolutely no memory of his past. While his personality remains fairly intact, he boards the Amaterasu Express hoping to figure out who he is along the way. While nobody there knows who he is, he instead finds he have a knack for word-play, puns and pick up lines, leading to accusations of secretly being a circus clown as opposed to a detective. This attitude is only solidified more upon meeting Shinigami, the death god with just as many innuendos to make as he does. They get along almost dangerously well, even more so when he learns she has a humanoid form. After completing the first mystery labyrinth, he decides that being a detective HAS to be his true calling, since solving the case was pretty fun all things considered, and receives his hoodie from The Chief to help keep him dry once arriving in Kanai Ward.

Yuma on the other hand, takes the place of co-star of chapter 2. At first he comes off as cool and charismatic but he breaks down almost immediately at the slightest hint of conflict. He's been a very famous musician for years prior to becoming a master detective, though he finds it hard to fully express himself through anything other then his appearance and music. The anxiety induced from an excess of fans, attention, and not knowing who to trust anymore thanks to his own popularity, he was ecstatic to be scouted by the WDO for his talents in disguises. Once it blossomed into a fully fledged forte and he was allowed to work as a detective properly though... they started regretting hiring him. Chaotic, anti-authoritatian and impossible to track down, he's more of a vigilante then a real detective. He was selected to go to Kanai Ward due to it's predicted high mortality rate, the higher ups hoping to dispose of the troublemaker without being too obvious about it. What does APAB mean you ask? All Peacekeepers Are Bastards!!! The Chief wasn't very happy to see him wearing it but permanent marker is permanent.

I haven't decided if I'll change Shinigami's humanoid design yet. If I do though, it'll probably just be more remenicent of her beta design. I haven't decided if I'll swap the Amaterasu Express detectives either though but... maybe I will. Since its forte swap though, the peacekeepers will all remain the same.

I'm hoping to write a fanfic for this, as opposed to like... a comic. But I'm partial to the idea of maybe doing an ask blog as well? I don't know yet. Either way, I'll probably post more for this tomorrow! <3

[snivyartjpeg]

pokemon au doodles of my favorite boys...

[zok0k0]

Raincode Ship Week Day 6: Past 🔎💉

Just Number One Yuma 'n Lab Rat Mako ,very angsty sry chat 💔