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seliasvault · 1 year ago

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I don't write often but this au has just been sitting in my brain ever since i watched an ep about border security and i need to get it out.

nsfw below, mdni

airportsecurity!ghost + airportsecurity!price x reader

tw: abuse of power, non-con elements, /f!reader/ 18+

It was standard procedure, any sort of suspicious activity needed to be investigated, and it just so happens that was the very flight you were on. Boarding was easy, and the flight was surprisingly pleasant too, a contrast to the intense anxiety you’d felt before the trip, so really everything after that should be a breeze.

Walking into Heathrow Airport gave you a sense of excitement, the trip to London that you had been thinking about finally coming to a reality.

With your carry-on behind you, you made the walk toward the exit, thinking about the trip to the hotel and where you’d eat lunch. As you made your way toward the walkway however multiple TSA agents were blocking the way, the passengers ahead of you already being questioned with their passports in hand.

You let out a quick breath, steading your nerves, this is unusual but then again what do you know about London and their security measures? Trying to suppress the number of anxiety-inducing thoughts, you make your way to one of the available officers. Dressed in a black outfit, name tag reading Riley, in all caps, you look up to meet his eyes. He speaks first.

“Just need to see your passport, and ask a couple of questions.”

“Yeah, no problem! Just give me a second.” You quickly reply, hoping to not raise any suspicion, you really had no reason for him to be suspicious at all but a situation like this left you even more anxious than normal.

Fishing through the handbag, you were thankful for keeping your passport handy, hastily pulling it out, to not waste any more of his time, you hand it over to him.

“Thank you.” He flips it open, glancing at your picture, date of birth, and other information

You silently cringe at the almost 3-year photo old, you haven’t quite mastered the art of government pictures yet.

“And where’ya headed love”

“Just out to London.” You keep your voice steady, trying to keep a sense of calm.

“Alright, you here on business? What’s the reason for your visit?” He glances up at you this time, handing your passport back to you.

You slide it back in your bag while giving him your answer.

“Just here to visit, always wanted to see London.” You say, letting out a nervous laugh at the end of that.

He nods his head. “Are you meeting anyone?” He asks tilting his head.

“Uh yeah, my dad, he flew in earlier, a couple of days ago.”

You respond hoping that this little interaction would be over soon, you weren’t sure how much longer you could chat with a man that looked like him while maintaining composure. Sure he was an officer, but by god was he a good-looking one, you internally scolded yourself for that remark, he’s just doing his job, and thinking about him like that is very wrong. Besides these are highly trained men, so the chances of him knowing you're attracted to him are higher than normal. Of course, normal people probably can't tell.

“A couple of days ago, separate flights?” He questioned.

“Oh yeah. he got a really good deal for the 7th and I was supposed to be on that flight with him but I couldn’t get my time off for that date, hence why, the later meeting.” You gave him a timid smile, gesturing slightly with your hands, hoping that answers any of his questions. You were truthful and didn’t say anything to raise suspicion, so really you should be able to go so you could then blush profusely at the close contact and his accent.

He glanced back at what seemed to be his superior officer, receiving a nod from him you assume you’re in the clear. That was until he opened his mouth.

“Okay, I’m just gonna ‘ave you come back with me, for a couple more questions.”

Your heart dropped, swallowing you gave him a an awkward smile.

“Yeah, yeah no problem.”

“Follow me this way.”

You followed him as he led the way, the nervous thoughts that had so far remained in check started to spring loose. What if they falsely accuse you of something and you can’t prove you didn't do it? God, you had just watched a documentary of a man who spent 30 years in prison for something he didn’t do, what if the next movie’s about you? Cringing internally, you shove everything away, focusing on remaining as calm and composed as possible.

Simon knew they had already apprehended the suspect, they received a tip from the JFK airport that there may have been someone smuggling some form of narcotics, and it was their job to search for them. Stopping passengers was not a common practice but Simon’s done his fair share. Ask the usual questions, confirm their passport, and look for any details that may give anything away.

When you approached him, the only free officer, he felt something stir in his stomach. A young thing, innocent looking, fresh off the plane. He knew you were most definitely not the suspect they were looking for, nonetheless, he proceeded with the standard procedure.

After hearing the first words come out of your mouth, he immediately turned to glance at Price. Both sharing the same look he went back to the task at hand. Pre Deciding they couldn’t just let a pretty thing like you escape from their grasp. He listened to every word you said, a small smirk playing at his lips from the nervousness that lightly dripped from your voice. Poor girl, all alone, being stopped in an unknown country, he could feel the anxiety rolling off of you no matter how much you tried to hide it.

So when he knew he was just about done and ready to take you back, he gave Price one last look, a sly smile tugging on his face, and a nod following. Nothing felt as good as watching you slowly pale after he told you he’d need to bring you back for questioning.

Sitting in the chair opposite to, what looked to be one of the two officers' desks, you bounced your leg up and down. Your luggage tucked in the corner, your phone in hand as you waited for either of them to arrive. You unlock your phone sending a quick text to your Dad, telling him you were caught up with security and they just had some questions to ask you. In return you receive the classic Dad response, a single thumbs up followed by a: “Don’t worry, you’ll be out soon.” Your Dad, ever so helpful.

When the door opened you stilled glancing back to see both men enter, the previous officer, Riley, and a man who looked just slightly older than him, name tag reading Price.

You mentally sighed and cursed at your luck, not only were you stopped for extra questioning but of course as fate would have it both officers had to be stupidly good-looking.

If your underwear started to gain a slight wetness to it, it definitely has nothing to do with them.

Officer Riley locked the door behind him, going to stand in the corner as his superior moved to sit behind the desk.

“I’m Officer Price, we just ‘ave a couple o’ questions to ask ya.” He clears his throat, his demeanor straight to the point.

You glance at his hands, folded on the table, we you wait to answer anything he throws at you.

"You said you were meeting your Dad?" He waits for confirmation looking back down at the paper.

“Yes, He flew a couple days ago.” He shifts.

“Alright, now ma’am, I’m going to be honest here, we were alerted by JFK that there was someone who was potentially smuggling drugs.” He glances up at you before returning his gaze to whatever was on his paper. All the while Officer Riley’s eyes burn holes through you. Your eyes momentarily flicker to his before you return your gaze to the man sitting in front of you.

A small “Oh” was all you could manage, if your heart could drop any further, it did. Your heart rate slowly rises, you know you didn’t smuggle anything, but the thought of being put away for something you didn’t do sat heavy on your mind.

A cute little thing you were, sat fidgeting in front of Price, each word coming out of his mouth made you shrink. He could practically feel the anxiousness oozing off of you. No fret, you’ll feel better soon. He knew that none of this was necessary, all for show so he and Simon could have their way with you. If they were on their own personal lunch break you wouldn't know, he continued, explaining what would happen next.

“I’m just going to have Officer Riley here search your bag if that’s alright.” He voices, he looks down at the same sheet of paper, and then raises it back up to look at you.

“Yeah! That-That’s no problem.” You sit in your seat as you watch Officer Riley move to grab your luggage, mentally going through anything in there that could raise concerns.

He lifts the suitcase, setting it down on the metal table tucked in the corner. Unzipping it, he opens it, revealing your clothes and the various little bags you made to separate your toiletries. He goes through the clothes, sifting through each, one by one, unfolding and rearranging. He lifts a pair of your black lace underwear, holding it up and inspecting it.

Your cheeks burn, your face hot in embarrassment.

Once he’s satisfied with the extent he’s searched, he closes the bag, zipping it back and placing it on the floor.

“No issues detected Sir.”

“Good, alright following protocol were gonna ‘ave to search ya.” His scouse accent trickling through.

You felt another wave of heat and embarrassment and hint of wetness flooding you. Rendered a little you speechless, you nod. Answering finally,

“I-okay, you-okay.”

Officer Riley from his position in the corner.

“ Need ya t’a spread your arms for me, move those legs apart too-yeah just like tha'.”

He really had no reason to sound so sexual for something as tame as a search. You did as told though, following his orders. His hands roaming across your body patting down any areas “necessary”, you chalked off the extra time he spent on your breasts and crotch to another ‘simply doing his job’. Once the search was over he straightened up, telling his superior that it was all clear. You finally let out a breath, hoping to be let free.

“Last step and we’ll send you out, I’ll be conducting a strip search.”

At this point whatever forces that were out there were torturing you, you could no longer hide the wetness pooling inside your underwear. And the shock running through your body made sure you were unable to form words. You gave a nod in replacement to the stuttering alternative.

He walked you over to the table where your luggage had just been, bending you at the waist. As your heart rate picked up, you then open your mouth.

“I’m sorry-but is this really necessary, I mean I’ve never committed any crime, like ever, and my suitcase is clear I-”

“Just do as you're told, if you have nothing to hide you should have no issues.”

You quickly close your mouth as his hands pull your pants down roughly, pooling at your feet. Your underwear clinging to you, the wetness apparent. He continues his “search”, pulling at your underwear, letting it fall alongside your pants.

You squeak out a sound of embarrassment, eyes filling with humiliation. He presses up against you, fingers moving up and down your slit. The faintest groan could be heard, from who, you weren’t sure.

“Fucking dripping.” He lets out a chuckle, as you go to protest. Before you can get anything out however he shoves a finger inside.

Your eyes screw shut, as he thrusts his finger into you, adding a second to join in.

“Part of the procedure, sweetheart.”

You let out small breaths, the faintest whines following after, as you tried to conceal your noises. He hits a spot inside you causing you to choke out a gasp. Price lets out a noise of approval, choosing to then continuously hit that spot.

“You-” you let out a small moan, as he rubs around your g-spot, your brain short-circuiting.

“What’s that? You gonna ‘ave to speak up love.” He taunts, relishing in your embarrassment.

He continues his ministrations, his other hand coming to roughly rub at your clit. You can’t help the small moans that leave your mouth, as you try to hold them back.

“Oh fuck-”

You hear Officer Riley move toward you, manhandling your body so your splayed at the corner, backside facing Price while, face level with his crotch. He crouches down slowly to meet your eyes.

“Be as loud as you want lovie, no one can hear ya.” He probe his finger in your mouth, as you keep it clasped shut.

“Have t’a search it, part of the procedure.”

Price hits that spot inside you harder, causing you to let out another moan, mouth opening for him.

“Perfect.” He groans out, fingers pushing your tongue down.

“Where ‘ave they been hiding ya?” He smirks, standing to unbutton his pants, a noise of surprise is let out by you, muffled by his fingers.

Left hand singularly undoing his belt. Shoving his pants down, stopping at his knees.

His cock springs out, thick and large, your eyes widening at the sight.

Price behind you pulls his fingers out abruptly, helping you regain some consciousness you open your mouth to protest at the man infront of you.

Your actions however, are interrupted by the thick length being shoved inside you from the man at your backside.

“Have to be thorough.” He lets out a laugh, dark eyes feeding off the sight of you.

You choke a sound of surprise, as he almost immediately starts a brutal pace. The man in front of you speaks.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me, open up nice and wide.” He clicks his tongue.

You shake your head until Price drives into you especially hard. Mouth opening in surprise.

“That’s it, good girl.” You gasp around his length, being fucked into by the pair of them.

Price chimes in from behind.

“Look at you, such a good girl letting two officers fuck you, making sure she’s not causing any trouble.” He reaches over to rub at your clit, fingers moving in quick circular motions. Both of them rocking into you at a brutal pace.

You feel yourself approaching your climax, with muffled moans and cries.

“Can you feel clenching around me sweetheart, be a good girl, come on my cock, that's it.” He groans, his pace speeding up as the other approaches his climax as well.

After a harsh rub to your clit you come, body shaking as tears leak from your eyes. Price continues his thrusts, as you inadvertently suck him in, the little whines vibrating around Simons's cock. They both finally come with a low groan, thick salty liquid coating your tongue and insides as you struggle to swallow.

“Fuckin’ hell.” The man in front of you moans out.

They both slowly slide out, leaving you boneless on the table, as you whine out at the movement.

“Quite the mess.” Price comments, a dark laugh following from the man in front of you.

You make an exhausted noise in response. Quite the mess indeed.

#simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #salsawritesforonce #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley smut #john price smut #captain john price x reader #cod mw2 #cod smut #john price x reader smut

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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Do you think Riddle is so short because of what his mom made him eat ?

Like only making him get the perfect amount of calories like in his overblot backstory

Maybe it is because his mom is also short? Anyways she doesn't seem tall, also where is his dad.

***PLEASE NOTE: I am NOT speaking as a dietician or a doctor; the information and interpretations presented here are based my own scientific knowledge and research, and apply ONLY to the analysis of a fictional character. This post is NOT meant to be taken as any sort of medical or dietary advice.*** Personally, I'm not of the belief that Riddle is short due to his controlled dietary intake. In very simple terms, calories can be thought of as the fuel you burn to get through activities. While a caloric deficit can contribute to stunting of growth, I don't think this applies to Riddle since he lives a relatively sedentary lifestyle (sitting and studying) and is provided an adequate amount of calories per meal. I want to take a quick moment to dispel the commonly held belief that Mrs. Rosehearts underfeeds Riddle. This seems to sprout from a misinterpretation of a line in 1-25 when she is serving Riddle a birthday meal. Here, she states the exact amount that Riddle must have in order to not overshoot 600 kilocalories. This is led some fans to think that Mrs. Rosehearts restricts Riddle to 600 kilocalories a day, which is just not true. From the dialogue, it is clear that Riddle is granted 600 kilocalories per meal. Assuming 3 meals a day, that means 1800 kilocalories per day, which is very close to the recommended 1745 kilocalories for the average 8-year old boy (not accounting for fluctuations from individual child to individual child). This is a perfectly normal intake, but is appears strange at first glance because very few parents actively calorie count what their child eats to this extent.

Back to the original topic, nutrient intake also contributes to height. (Think of nutrients as the building blocks to a building called your body, and the calories as workers or the 'energy' that assembles the building/your body.) However, that doesn't mean that I think Riddle didn't get enough nutrients; it is possible to have low calorie meals which are nutritious. (For example, athletes may have to follow specialized diets in order to attune their bodies to whatever sport or activity they do. Similarly, Vil crafts a diet for the VDC/SDC squad in book 5 which cuts out junk food, is overall lower in calories, and still provides the group with the energy they need for practice.) Mrs. Rosehearts has dialogue where she describes the nutritional content of the meals she has prepared, which seem to be tailored for brain function. I'm going to assume that those meals also adequately provided for Riddle's other nutritional needs. I don't have reason to believe Mrs. Rosehearts, a doctor and mother who is detail-oriented and hellbent on her child's success, would knowingly and intentionally sabotage his health.

It’s canon that maintaining physical wellbeing makes for a good mage (which is why NRC makes its students take P.E.). Additionally, eating well is said to be one way a mage can make a recovery from blot accumulation. If Riddle were eating poorly and/or was of poor health, that would only mean struggles with concentration and his magic suffering the consequences—and that’s very much counterintuitive to the success that Mrs. Rosehearts envisions for her son.

You don’t need an abundance of calories or nutrients for growth and development. The excess will get stored as adipose tissue/fat or (depending on the nutrient) exit the body as waste. It’s important for a child to be fed well in order to grow properly, but generally if they aren’t malnourished (ie getting less than what they need) then they wouldn’t be stunted.

By in large, genetics is the major deciding factor in height. I believe current studies suggest as much as 60-80% of one's height is predetermined by DNA sequences (although those DNA sequences can be altered by the environment and outside other factors). It could very well be that Riddle is just short because his ancestors had the "short" gene. Looking back at manga images of Riddle's mom from the manga, she doesn't seem that short to me. Even when Mrs. Clover is bowing her head to her, both moms appear to be about the same height (if Mrs. Clover were standing). Maybe Mrs. Clover is a little taller (it's hard to say just staring at the image), but not by a lot. If I had to guess, they seem to be about average height for women. That doesn't mean anything in terms of genetics though, you could be any height and still carry the "short" gene to pass onto your children (the shortness trait just isn't always expressed outwardly.)

If I had to guess, I’d say Riddle is just “naturally” short or drew a bad lot in terms of genetics (since his height seems to be a sore spot for him). He’s about that age where most men will stop growing too (although some do grow well into their late teens and even early twenties).

Regarding Mr. Rosehearts, we haven't seen him yet but he's definitely mentioned a few times! He is said to be a medical mage like his wife and is implied to not have a happy marriage with her (according to Riddle). That's about all we know of him now. Some parental figures just get less focus than the other, and that’s the case for Mr. Rosehearts as well as many others (Mrs. Trappola, Mr. Spade, Mrs. Asim, etc.).

It’s possible that the short gene came from Mr. Rosehearts, but we don’t know for sure since we’ve never gotten so much as a silhouette for him. Again though, he could be tall or average but have an unexpressed short gene. I believe many fans headcanon him as short though, as the King of Hearts in the source material is smaller and meeker than his wifez

#twst #twisted wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst manga #twisted wonderland manga #episode of heartslabyul #episode of heartslabyul manga #spoilers #question #notes from the writing raven #Vil Schoenheit

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oladthepancake · 7 months ago

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HELLOOO EVERYONE!

✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

HERE

LOOK

I put off publishing this post for a long time because I was too lazy to write all the information that I want to put here, but here I am, showing you my two models for vitubing, created entirely by myself with my own hands on my laptop!

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but before that I think it’s worth starting with an idea! And the idea came mega spontaneously:

This handsome man and I watched a couple of videos with Neuro-Sama and suddenly this dialogue appears:

- How about we become VTubers?

- seriously?

- yeah

- Let's go.

✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

Even though this decision was mega harsh and rather profane, it charged me with motivation and allowed me to get out of the art block a little

After all, I REALLY love learning new programs and things for myself.

✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

Time:

• 5 days to draw both models

• A week to animate them

Programs:

Krita (drawing)

life2D + his brother (animation of models and adding additional emotions)

Vtube Studio (Launch models)

Obs (video filming)

Energy Source:

God knows

✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

So who were my victims of this experiment?

As expected, my avatar was my alter ego Temmie, and for our mega partner/boyfriend we chose his alter ego Sans from Freedomtale!

Since the path is completely new and unfamiliar to me, I desperately searched on YouTube for all kinds of videos and tutorials, as a result of which I found the most understandable and enjoyable series of videos from Lazu-Tan, which I mainly relied on when making avatars

Next, having found it on the Internet and installed the necessary programs on the laptop, I scribbled sketches that would later grow into models:3

after this stage there is a boring process of drawing the models directly, grouping a bunch of layers (a separate layer was needed for each moving object, such as separate layers for each strand of hair and grouping into a common group with hair. This was an unusual thing and made me really strain my brain)

Having saved both files in .psd format, I put them into a new program called Life2D! I needed this program to create animations of the very layers that I had distributed and grouped earlier. head turns, hair physics, eye blinks, additional emotions - this is all the merit of the great Life2D and those 43 days of the trial of the full version, which he so kindly provided me with for creativity... in fact, I thank you for the conditional “deadline”, because without it, God knows when I would have finished this project under other circumstances

When working, there were a lot of problems due to insufficient knowledge about the operation of the application, which is why sometimes I felt like a would-be programmer who couldn’t find an error in his code for several days (I tried to program, I know what I’m talking about)

It would seem hurray, everything is ready! however, here the finishing touches await us.

Those additional emotions (like blush, stars, tears) that should be activated by assigned keys must first be configured through a separate program that is installed with Life2D

in general, the procedure is not complicated, and I even found it somewhat pleasant

After this, the models can be considered ready, they just need to be put into the files of an application such as Vitube Studio, after which you can play your character at the camera or use them for streaming or making videos!

I published videos demonstrating the capabilities of my models on my YouTube

It was an ultra-mega interesting experience, and I will not hesitate to say this, and I am proud of the results:3

for streaming, however, all that remains is to turn my little potato into a more or less tolerable laptop, but I think sooner or later I will be able to solve this issue

@thefreedomskeleton

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Thank you if you are reading this and wish you a wonderful time of day!

#art #fanart #vtube model #vtuber #2D models #freedomtale sans #Freedomtale #Sans #oladushek #animation #i like it #so much #give me some new hands pls #undertale

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lavenderchqn · 3 months ago

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𝐶𝛨𝛢𝑃𝑇𝛦𝑅 𝟎𝟑𝟑 — SET IT OFF (3,5K WORDS) 𝑅𝐸𝐷 𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆 — lyney x f!reader smau

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆 —

Second year of university should've been everything you thought of it - more studying with human interaction sprinkled throught... What it definitely wasn't supposed to be was an investigation saga where one of your friends goes missing out of nowhere

𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆 — 𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — 𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇 𝐸𝑃𝐼𝑆𝑂𝐷𝐸

As the meeting approached, [Y/N]’s nerves became more evident. She was hunched over her laptop, polishing her slides for the presentation on their opponent. This wasn’t just a university project for credit — it’s serious. Her sleepless nights were etched into her appearance, with dark circles under her eyes and a tired, drooping gaze.

If you asked, [Y/N] would insist she’s fine, brushing off any mention of fatigue. In truth, burying herself in this project has been a way to block out her growing feelings for Lyney and keep Clorinde’s judgement at a safe distance from her thoughts.

Over the past few days, she and Lyney had gathered a significant amount of information. Beyond the startling discovery of Marcel’s connection to the Dean of Arts and Humanities department, they’d uncovered another strange, yet valid for his character: he was an intense fan of Lolita. His Facebook page was littered with quotes from the novel — far too many for comfort, given the circumstances.

In the end, one question continued to baffle her — figuring out his motive. If their timeline was correct, he had stopped pursuing Furina as soon as she left the theatre troupe, with no suspicious activity on his part until March of this year.

[Y/N] muttered to herself, trying to make sense of it, her laptop balancing on her knees. The screen showed the slide on Marcel’s background: a graduate of their university who had majored in performance arts but never made it big. By all appearances, it was likely the dean who had handed him the assistant position — a clear case of nepotism, or something close to it.

“And who do we have here, hmm?” Lyney’s voice came from behind [Y/N], making her jump out of her skin. In her startled attempt to back away, she nearly sent her laptop flying. Luckily, Lyney was quick; with one hand, he steadied her, while his other caught her laptop just in time, saving her and her work from disaster.

“Y-You—“ [Y/N] stammered, bending forward to catch her breath and regain her composure. Lyney’s hand remained around her waist, even as he leaned down to carefully place the laptop on the coffee table beside her former seat. It took her a while to settle down, her brain not letting go of thinking about his touch.

Once the laptop was safely down, Lyney straightened up, his gaze teasing but warm. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, though the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

[Y/N] shot him a look, half-annoyed, half-flustered. “You did that on purpose.”

“Who knows, maybe I did,” he admitted, a smirk on his lips. “But I couldn’t resist. You’ve been buried in this thing lately— Was starting to think you’d forgotten all about me~”

Lyney and his sly words. Her cheeks felt warmer, and she quickly looked away, focusing on the open laptop. “Hardly. I’m preparing… for the meeting, you know.”

He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Right, of course, the meeting.” Then, after a pause, his tone softened. “But really, don’t overwork yourself. I can help if you need it.”

“Absolutely not, Lyney.” [Y/N] pouted, looking at him. “You were the one to collect information, it’s only fair I prepare the presentation, right.”

Lyney raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. “Are you saying I wouldn’t make an impressive presenter?”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes, stifling a grin. “I think you’d make too much of a spectacle of it. We’re trying to inform everyone about that dick, not put on a magic show. Besides your father is going to be there…”

He placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded by her words. “Ouch. But I suppose you’re right — I’d steal the show, no bet.” He gave a small, playful shrug before taking his hand off her waist and meeting her gaze. “Still, I’ll be there by your side. Give me the cue, and I’ll jump to your aid, like a knight on a horse in shining armour.”

“Thanks, Lyney.” She murmured, her voice quieter than she’d intended. How could she not have fallen for a guy like him? Despite his teasing nature, he was always there to aid her whenever possible. Even when she hadn’t felt like doing anything or crying her eyes out at feeling useless.

Heavens above, it was high time to regain her focus… the meeting was coming soon.

“The party has arrived!~” Furina sings, sweeping into the vacation house as Lyney holds the door open for her. Wriothesley and Neuvillette followed close behind, each wearing an expression of subtle relief — it was their first time seeing him since that fateful day.

“Good to see the squad in one piece.” Lyney greets them with a small smile, though his eyes linger on Wriothesley and Neuvillette, sensing the weight of unspoken words. There is tension in the air, a mix of concern and gratitude, as if just seeing him there, welcoming them with his usual charm, is enough to ease some of their lingering worries.

Furina, as oblivious as ever to the atmosphere, spins around the room, hands on her hips. “So, where’s your girl? Surely she hasn’t run off to do even more work?”

Lyney chuckles, mentioning them towards the living room. “Not my girl, first of all— Second, she’s still wondering how to fix the tension between her, Clorinde and Charlotte…”

“They still haven’t reconciled?” Neuvillette asks surprise in his tone. “From their dynamic, it would seem like they’d let go of their argument quite swiftly if I do say so myself.”

Wriothesley meanwhile, rolls his eyes at Lyney’s words, though a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Not your girl, ‘Mr. My body is telling me to make her feel better’. He teases.

“Shut the fuck up, Wrio,” Lyney says as the faintest blush creeps up. He’s leading them to the living room, where everything for their meeting is already prepared — a projector, some snacks and a lot of sitting space. This room was often used as a gathering spot for the children to watch movies, whenever Father permitted them to use the house.

“Oh, you’re early?” [Y/N]’s voice echoes as she enters the room, empty glasses in hand. “Weren’t we supposed to meet at 5?” She sets the glasses on the coffee table before looking at her phone. It reads as 4:45 pm.

“Being fifteen minutes early is the standard, darling.” Furina comes up, raising her hands to hug her as a welcome gesture. “Glad to see you’re all right.”

“Likewise,” The girls give each other a warm, but short, hug as [Y/N] greets Wriothesley and Neuvillette, who are standing next to Lyney. “Nice to see you too, guys.”

“Good afternoon to you too, Ms. [Y/N].”

“We’re still waiting on the girls… as well as Father,” Lyney says, sharing a gaze with [Y/N]. “Make yourselves at home, sillies. I’ll help [Y/N] with the last things, all right?”

“Alrighty~”

A knock on the door brings the chatter between [Y/N] and the Beverage Gang to an abrupt halt. They exchanged glances, knowing exactly who it was. Just moments earlier, as they’d finished setting up the table Lyney had received a message from The Knave. She was informing him she’d be arriving late due to a traffic jam on the highway.

“Guess they finally made it,” Wriothesley mutters, adjusting his jacket, while Neuvillette offers a small nod.

Lyney gives [Y/N] a reassuring look before moving toward the door. “Time to make them feel welcome,” He says, his tone lighthearted, with a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. As much as he plays it off, he knows the meeting can bring a fair share of tension — between the subject of the meeting as well as Clorinde’s presence… with her recent conflict with [Y/N]

With a quick breath, he opens the door, revealing Navia, Clorinde and Charlotte standing just outside. Navia smiles cheerfully, giving Lyney a brief nod as she steps inside, Clorinde follows behind with her usual stoic expression, and Charlotte brings up the rear with a friendly wave.

“Glad to see everyone’s made it safe and sound!” The blonde announced, beaming as she headed straight for the living room. She greets each person with her characteristic enthusiasm, stopping by [Y/N] to share a warm side hug. “Ah, it’s good to see you, [Y/N].”

The girl returned the hug, a small smile breaking through. “You too, Nav, you too.”

As Navia settles in beside her, Lyney joins them, casting a glance in Clorinde’s direction. Her expression is unreadable, although, he can notice a glint of sadness in her eyes. He wishes inside that Clorinde and Charlotte are here to make amends with [Y/N].

After a moment of quiet, Navia clears her throat, breaking the silence. “Well, are we good to start the meeting now?” She glances around the room, her gaze lingering on each person, a gentle reminder of the unity they need tonight.

“Lyney,” Furina turns to him. “We’re still waiting for The Knave… right?”

“Yep, that’s right,” He stands up, moving closer towards where [Y/N]’s laptop is — connected to their projector. “She knows what [Y/N]’s gonna talk about soo… we can start without her.”

Charlotte nods, leaning back slightly in her seat. “All right then, let’s get started.”

The group eyes the projector screen with interest as Lyney connects everything, casting [Y/N] an encouraging look. “The floor is yours,” he says, giving her a reassuring smile. He can feel the slight glances of his friends eyeing his every move — trying to find proof of him crushing on [Y/N] and so on.

“Actually,” Clorinde speaks up, eyes dead straight on [Y/N]. “Could I ask what you’re going to be talking about? As far as I’m aware Wriothesley had conclusions regarding the location.”

Oh. That’s right. Neither she nor Lyney have ever mentioned they had figured out who the kidnapper is. Well, The Knave had been made aware… but nobody else.

“What else would there to be talking about?” Clorinde enquires, the sheer coldness in her voice noticeable to everyone present. “We do not know who the kidnapper is.”

“Who says we don’t?” [Y/N] strikes back, her answer sending the room into silence.

Clorinde’s eyes narrow, and a flicker of surprise flashes across Wriothesley’s face as he exchanges a glance with Neuvillette. The weight of [Y/N]’s words hangs heavy in the hair, thickening the silence which follows.

Furina leans forward, eyes wide with intrigue. “Wait… you mean to say—“

“Yes,” [Y/N] interrupts, steady and resolute. “We know who the kidnapper is. And the presentation has all the evidence to support our guess.”

Lyney steps closer to her, arms crossed but supportive, his gaze shifting to Clorinde. “We’ve been holding back certain information… for mental health reasons.” He knows he’s being passive-aggressive, but there’s something so correct after everything [Y/N] had to go through.

“Mental health reasons?” Neuvillette questions. “I’m aware this matter is quite crucial for the two of you, but others?”

“Well,” [Y/N] sighs, turning her eyes back to the projector. “How about you see? And then ask questions.”

“Without much introduction,” [Y/N] resumed. “Here’s the person behind all the kidnappings.”

“Furina,” Lyney perks up, getting her attention. “Close your eyes, just in case.”

Furina’s curiosity piques at his suggestion, and her expression shifts between intrigue and unease. She hesitates, not quite ready to see her tormentor of the previous year. She finally closes her eyes, murmuring, “Fine, fine, just tell me when it’s safe.”

The second slide pops up. With an image of Marcel Dubois right and centre. It’s him — Furina’s stalker. The group’s attention turned black to the screen, where his image — cold, calculated, and all too familiar to those who knew him from university… or from dealing with the theatre troupe’s management. Silence washes over the room as each person processes what this means.

“That fucking guy?” Wriothesley stands up, flabbergasted. “He’s the one who not only kidnapped the girls… but also threatened Furina a fucking year ago?”

[Y/N] nods, her voice steady as she continues, “He’s a former student, a performance arts major. And well… the manager of the theatre troupe. That’s how he managed to get close to three of his victims… as for Lynette…”

“She’s the outlier.”

“Precisely.”

“Is he the… son of the dean?”

“Yes.” [Y/N] gave everyone a grim nod. “He’s the son of the Dean of Arts and Humanities. His influence and connections within the university must’ve kept Marcel protected. Can’t be caught, if you don’t start an actual investigation, am I right?”

Lyney clicked to the next slide, which outlined their evidence, including patterns of his movement and his online prescience — posts and quotes from Lolita that had, in retrospect, revealed more than anyone realised.

“While I can’t still figure out why he had committed those crimes…” [Y/N] continued. “Lynette is most likely a singular ‘deviation’. It could be him using her to not only taunt us but to show he can be unpredictable.”

“A desire for power is a simple enough explanation, Miss [Y/N].” A deep voice says, getting louder as the person enters from their previous spot, back in the darkness of the unlit room. “I commend you for your findings.”

“Madame… Knave?” [Y/N] murmurs, eyes widening as the woman steps into the light. Her imposing presence seems to command the room, just as it did back when they had first met. Beside her stands a tall figure, whose sharp gaze and police badge immediately signal their purpose.

The Knave’s eyes sweep over the room, lingering slightly as they pass her protégé before she gives a polite nod. “Good evening, everyone. I apologise for my late arrival, yet it seems I came just in time.” Her voice is smooth, yet steely, carrying a weight that silences any lingering doubt in the air.

The officer beside her adjusts his badge. “I have been briefed on the situation,” he says, looking directly and [Y/N] and Lyney. “Thanks to your compiled evidence, and some swift verification, it is enough to warrant immediate investigation. We have gathered court permission to enter his house tomorrow at the earliest.”

Charlotte lets out a small light, crossing her arms. “It’s actually happening. We’re finally going to rescue the victims.”

Knave meets her gaze with a small nod. “That would be correct, Ms. Charlotte. With your combined efforts, we now have the leverage to proceed cautiously but decisively.” She looks again to [Y/N]. “The presentation was thorough. The shadows you were once treading are no more — this is concrete evidence.”

[Y/N] feels a surge of relief mixed with apprehension. This was it. After all the sleepless nights, carefully digging and gathering information, they had finally brought Marcel into the light. But as she looked around, she could see similar apprehension in the eyes of her friends.

“So… what happens next?” Furina asks softly, her trembling voice breaking the silence. While she didn’t look at the slides directly, the conversation between her friends told her directly who was behind everything. It’s maddening… how sick in the head Marcel truly is.

“It all depends on how long it takes to find out the place where the kidnapped women are.” The officer looks at each of them in turn. “But rest assured, his days of preying on anyone are over.”

“Except,” Wriothesley interrupts. “We are aware of where they are, as well as crucial information about said location.”

Wriothesley’s presentation is much shorter. Over the past few days, he had managed to pinpoint all points of entry as well as note all camera locations — the latter done before the knowledge of having a court order. Surprisingly, the vacation house near Mary-Ann’s National Park is nowhere near as small as they predicted initially. Not to mention it having been built on top of unsuitable ground after all the chaos that had transpired years before.

The officer nods, studying the images. “This does shorten our work. With the knowledge of the building, we can orchestrate an operation that avoids detection. We shall be coordinating with local authorities tonight. The plan is to have a surveillance team in place early tomorrow morning, with the tactical team ready to move as soon as we confirm the victim’s presence.”

“Be sure,” Clorinde perks up. “To have a medical staff available. Heavens know what situation some of the victims are.”

“But of course.”

After this confirmation, the Knave and the officer bid the group farewell. It’s a long night ahead for everybody involved, and starting as soon as possible is highly appreciated.

Furina, still shaken, looks to [Y/N] and Lyney with a spark of courage in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice laced with gratitude. “For piecing this all together. For saving Lynette and everyone else. I… I know I should have said this sooner.”

[Y/N] gives her a soft smile, squeezing her friend’s hand. “We all worked together. It wouldn’t have been possible without everyone’s support.”

“[Y/N],” Clorinde says, walking up to the girl with Charlotte by her side. “Would you spare us a minute?” The girl in question is chatting with Navia, both excited to hopefully see Lynette as soon as tomorrow.

Out of nowhere, the tension, which has felt light ever since the departure of the Knave and accompanying police officer, is heavy once more. This simple interaction brings not only the girls to a stop… but also the Beverage Gang members.

“Of course.” [Y/N] glances a Navia, who offers a supportive nod, before she turns to face Clorinde and Charlotte. She feels a knot in her stomach, a stark contrast to the relief she had felt moments ago.

Charlotte’s expression is gentle, almost apologetic, while Clorinde maintains her usual composed demeanour, though there’s an unspoken weight in her gaze. “I owe you an apology,” She begins, her voice steady but softer than usual. “For how I treated you… and for not taking your feelings into account.”

Charlotte steps forward, her face sincere. “Even though your methods have been quite radical… You’ve done so much, for all of us. I’m sorry, for petitioning to exclude you too…”

[Y/N] stands there, momentarily taken aback, a rush of emotions flashing through her. She takes a breath, feeling the tension finally start to loosen. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice warm. “It means a lot, truly.”

Clorinde nods, a hint of relief crossing her face. “I hope we can move forward, together.”

Before she can respond, Lyney’s hand settles reassuringly on her shoulder, grounding her. “Well…” His tone is uncertain. “You did put this lovely lady into quite a lot of distress. Not to mention, you tried to exclude me too?”

Clorinde stiffens slightly, her gaze flicking to Lyney, who's watching her with a raised brow and a smirk that doesn’t hide his protective stance beside [Y/N].

“Yes, Lyney,” she says, a slight sigh escaping her, “We did exclude you both. And yet, perhaps you were right to push ahead without waiting for us. Your determination has shown us what we couldn’t see in our hesitation.” She looks directly at [Y/N]. “While I cannot support your means of gathering evidence, you have been braver than I gave you credit for.”

Charlotte chimes in, her tone soothing. “Like, I’m not gonna say I’m better than you… But those were some really dangerous methods, you both. Sorry, again.”

Lyney’s expression softens as he looks at the two, his smirk fading to something more genuine. “Apology accepted,” he says with a nod, squeezing [Y/N]’s shoulder once more and pointing at her with his other hand. “This girl has done so fucking much over the past few weeks, I’d be an idiot not to trust her, you know.”

In the dimly lit interior of Neuvillette’s car with Wriothesley behind the wheel, Furina reclines in her back seat, arms crossed as she remarks on that scene on their way back. Her teasing smirk is in place as she raises a brow at Wriothesley, who is focused on the road, but sneaks a quick amused glance her way. “He definitely has a crush on her.”

“Lyney has always been a charmer,” Wriothesley remarks, amusement in his voice. “But I’ll admit, he usually plays it a bit cooler. He’s thrown in his lot with her.”

Furina taps a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “It’s really sweet, the way he rushed in like that. He’s more protective than I had expected.”

“Well,” Neuvillette interrupts. “I think it’s quite expected of Lyney.”

Furina turns her attention to Neuvillette, sitting beside her. “Oh? Do tell, Neuvi. You think Lyney’s… predictable?”

Neuvillette clears his throat, shaking his head. “Not predictable. Just… earnest. Lyney cares deeply for those he considers important, us included. When he decides someone’s worth his trust, he’ll stand by them without hesitation.”

Furina leans back, clearly intrigued. “I know, I know, silly~ Our magician is an open book when you think about it long enough.” She chuckles, but her tone is more appreciative than mocking.

“Then why ask the question?”

“Ugh… annoying. For the plot, perhaps?”

Wriothesley chuckles, nodding to the road ahead. “Let’s leave the theatrics to you and Lyney. But I have to say, I’m curious how this ‘plot’ of theirs unfolds.”

Tomorrow will bring the final act of their hard work — a risky rescue, with everything on the line. But tonight, they can finally take a breath, together.

𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — CLOSED

@state-of-grac3 @santaluna @meigalaxy @romyoia

@meurtreofcrows @charles-braindump @floweringanna @moonjellyfishie @vavrin @lovelypadisarah @dearanemo

@dearanemo @ladylee

date of posting — november 20th 2024

#lavv.writes #lavv.redlines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smau #genshin smau #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #lyney x reader #lyney smau

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reds-skull · 1 year ago

Text

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PART 1]

Don't ask me why I wrote chapter two literally a day after the first, it's a mix of the nice comments I got and the fact I'm enjoying myself more than I expected, haha.

Ghost crashes into his desk chair, throwing two folders on the table. One was the Sergeant’s report, which he had to go through and approve before forwarding to Price, and the other…

The other was Soap’s personal file. He technically didn’t have clearance for it anymore, but Price left it on his desk next to the report, and Ghost figured he won’t notice if it disappeared for a couple hours.

Besides… he was supposed to read it before the mission. He just didn’t care in the past.

Ghost opens the file, and immediately gets greeted by a picture of Soap. He’s younger and seemed to be holding back a smile for the photo.

John “Soap” MacTavish. Somehow, Ghost can’t see how this fiery Sergeant shares a name with the captain.

The rest of the file is pretty standard. Born in Scotland (In a town Ghost never heard of), age 27, enlisted at 16. It gets more interesting when he reaches the Revenant section.

Or, whatever he can see from it. His Reaping, his first death, is completely blacked out. His powers list the explosion immunity and creation, but another line is censored. Ghost feels cheated of information - the amount of red tape around Soap would be concerning, if it didn’t make him that more intrigued.

He flips through his previous missions fairly quickly, not expecting much of it to be uncensored. Lad was SAS before dying, the reports are practically a solid block of black ink.

Ghost continues to the medical reports, fully intending to skip those as well, and he keeps flipping, and flipping, and flipping…

An icy hand grabs at his throat. Frowning, he slowly flips back.

The frozen feeling persists when he starts reading. 4 years ago, mission in Austria. Exposure to thermite explosion, 3 fingers missing and loss of motor function to his left leg. 11 months ago, C4 accident, right ear, eye, and majority of throat missing. 2 years ago, grenade explosion, massive damage to liver and stomach.

Combing through all records, Ghost took a moment to realize no medical procedure was noted. Which means Soap didn’t receive any.

He shut the folder.

Something different from the freezing horror he initially felt started rising within him. It was rage.

The personal folder gets thrown aside, and Ghost focuses on the mission report. Right. Perhaps this will shed more light on what Soap is capable of, because honestly right now he can’t bare thinking about how much damage the Sergeant suffered through any longer.

The report is well-written, as any soldier of Soap’s rank would be. Ghost enjoys seeing just how competent Soap was, clearing rooms at neck breaking speed. What catches his eyes is the reason the explosion at the warehouse happened.

He never did get an answer to that…

As it turns out, Soap did get spotted. But according to the report, it wasn’t a hostile that activated the explosive. No, Soap himself did that. The reason given is “estimated risk to Bravo 0-7”.

…Soap thought he was in danger?

Ghost racks his brain trying to understand why. Did he think Ghost didn’t clear the third floor yet? Did he think… they were going to alert backup?

And he decides to… blow himself up.

He hastily signs the document and grabs both folders. So much information, missing, blacked out, red tape stopping him from understanding. Ghost has long learned that he won’t, can’t understand everything, orders from higher up not to be questioned. But it has never bothered him more.

Never left this feeling of missing out.

When Ghost reaches Price’s office, the light is on and a lingering smell of cigars wafts even through the closed door. Shit. He’ll have to explain how the amount of folders he took suddenly multiplied.

“Weird how that happens, doesn't it Ghost?” Price shouts from beyond the door.

Bloody hell his stupid mind reading powers can be a real pain in the-

“You better not finish that thought Lieutenant!”

Sighing, Ghost finally opens the door. “I thought you’re on break, Captain”, he places the folders on his desk.

Price glares at the two folders before he looks back at him, eyebrow raised, “clearly”.

Ghost glares back. Not like he has anything to say to his defence.

Price breaks the tension with a little huff, “You know you could’ve just asked for the file, right? I could tell the Sergeant left an impression on you.” he laughs.

Not needing the Captain to mock him further, he bites back “report’s signed, permission to be dismissed?”

Price smirks and dismisses him. Ghost doesn’t miss the thought that leaked from him, “told you, you two would get along.”

He walks away before Price could read his own.

Smoking becomes less intimidating after you die once. Honestly, if it comes to the point he dies from lung cancer, he’ll be happy.

He’ll take that little comfort either way. Watching the smoke dissipate to the night sky, a handful of stars shining through. Little droplets of rain drizzle on the tin roof above him. It’s almost peaceful.

Almost. If only he couldn’t hear Gaz complaining from the floor above him.

“Look, he’s doing it again.” the recruit next to him makes a questioning sound, “Ghost, he’s bloody brooding. I swear, he’s been like this even since that mission with the revenant, what’s his name…”

The recruit mumbles something, “right! MacTavish. I’ll pay a good amount to know what happened with him… you think-”

Ghost slams a fist at the tin roof, “I can fuckin’ hear ya Garrick!”.

“Good! Tell me what happened there!”

He throws the cigarette and stomps it. Can’t get a moment of silence around here…

Gaz still tries to interrogate him while Ghost walks back to his room. He would talk to him when he feels like it, kindly suggest to never bring up that mission again.

Ghost doesn’t need more things to remind him of the Sergeant.

Sometimes he wonders if he ever was as bad as these rookies. Watching one trip on thin air, taking down 3 others poor sods trying to complete a run, he rather believe he wasn’t.

He approaches the 4 idiots, who are now literally shaking while craning their neck to look at their lieutenant. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get up!”.

The rookies finally pull their heads out of their arse and scramble up. While they try to get back on track, he shouts, “five more laps for you four! Get a move on!”.

The ones that finished the training murmur behind him something that sounds like a long list of expletives, maybe about wishing his mother got an abortion or the likes.

Ghost couldn’t care less. But, for the sake of discipline, he throws a scowl at the group, shutting them instantly.

It’s on days like these, where Gaz is away on mission, and Price buried under mountains of paperwork, that Ghost’s thoughts wander back to that mission six months ago. To a certain Scottish Sergeant, to daft jokes and a weird shared understanding. Fingers flickering with flames, blue eyes shining with them.

Useless thoughts. All they do is leave a bitter trail behind them.

On days like these, he can’t help but crave bitterness.

The recruits finally finish their run, and Ghost dismisses them before they can cause more trouble, effectively declaring it “not his problem”. He should be more grateful of Garrick, he’s much better at handling the FNGs.

As he makes his way to the showers, one Private stops him. He looks familiar, but Ghost doesn’t bother learning any of their names.

“Captain Price orders you to his office.” the Private almost sneers at him. Ghost nods and walks away.

Once, a long time ago, he might’ve put the Private in his place, perhaps when he cared more. Now he knows better. His powers speak loud and clear. If he wished, he could wipe the entire base off the face of this godforsaken earth. It might be because of this fact, most soldiers abhor him.

They can’t help hating what they don’t understand.

Three well practiced knocks and a “come in!”, Ghost stands in front of the Captain. Price looks surprisingly chipper for the amount of files on his desk. That makes one of them.

“To what do I owe the occasion, Captain?”

Price flashes a warm smile (one he would call fatherly if the connotation didn’t want to make him want to puke) “I’m considering adding a new member to the 141”.

His first reaction is ‘fuck no’, and Price’s face sours at that. But Ghost is willing to entertain the Captain, so he asks, “you got any candidates?”.

Price motions to the dozen or so files on his desk, “take a look”.

Ghost raises an eyebrow before sitting down and taking one at random. Sergeant Thomas Anderson, 28. Revenant powers… “Breathing underwater? Really.” Ghost shuts the folder and glances at Price, “I’ll take him when we go on a bust against ultranationalists from Atlantis”.

“Not everyone is as deadly as you, Simon” Price sighs, “go on, check the others.”

Several files later Ghost is left wondering how many practically useless revenants are out there. He’s sure just thinking this is considered some sort of blasphemy among Reapers, but as he wasn’t struck down by an eldritch being yet, it’s safe to say he’s free to continue looking down at them.

He knows deep down it’s not their powers that bother him. Hell, Garrick’s Gravity manipulation isn’t that lethal, but the Sergeant knows how to effectively use it to his advantage.

Ghost simply can’t see himself working with any of them. He understands they’re in desperate need for more taskforce members, no matter how strong its three revenants are, but if they’re about to add a forth, he better be useful.

Scouring the table, Ghost realizes he went through all folders already. Price picks up on that.

“None of them up to your standard?”

Ghost crosses his arms, “not in the slightest”.

He spots a personal file on a cabinet on Price’s left, “what’s with that one?” he nods towards it.

Price turns his head, “ah, he’s currently on a long term assignment. Higher ups aren’t gonna let that one transfer so easily.”

Ghost’s interest was piqued, and he leaned to grab it. Price didn’t stop him, but he had a weird glint in his eyes. Ghost gets the feeling this outcome wasn’t unplanned.

He opens the folder and a pair of familiar blue eyes stare back. He looks up at Price.

The captain tilts his head, “well? In terms of strength, no one gets close to MacTavish. I’d dare say you and him could be evenly matched-”

“I’ll take him.”

Price falters, “what?”

“I’ll accept a new member if it was Soap.” Ghost states, leaving no room for argument. A bubbling feeling of excitement washes through him, in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. The mountains of questions Soap left behind him come back to the forefront of his mind.

And he feels… hopeful.

Price shakes the surprise off his features, and he looks tiredly at the file, “...I can’t promise any miracles, but I’ll do my best to get him.” He takes out a well deserved cigar, “I trust your judgment.”

“Thank you Captain”, the words don’t encapsulate just how grateful Ghost is.

“Now scram, I have about 50 calls to make.” Price waves his hand and picks up the phone. Ghost makes his exit before the Captain changes his mind.

Garrick returns from his assignment the following morning. The reason Ghost knows that is he watches the door to mess being slammed open while he tries to drink his morning tea.

“GHOST!” Gaz shouts, swiveling his head side to side, searching for him. Sometimes Ghost wishes he could actually go invisible like some rumors suggest.

But alas, he finds him quickly enough, and rushes to his table, uncaring of the several heads following his actions.

“Garrick” Ghost greets him, “how was the missio-”.

“We’re getting a new 141 member?!” Gaz cut him off, the excitement in his voice palpable, and he visibly starts floating a few inches off ground. Ghost tries to be annoyed with him, but he always found Gaz’s more energetic approach to life endearing.

“Nothing’s final yet, settle down.”

“But you know who it is, right?” Gaz sits in the chair in front of him, “c’mon, you gotta tell me!”

Ghost considers lying and saying he has no clue either, but he figures he might as well rip the band-aid now.

“It’s Sergeant MacTavish.” he tries to sound bored.

By the mischievous look on Garrick, he knows he failed miserably, “ohoho Ghost… Did you suggest your mysterious Sergeant to Price?” he grins like the menace he is, “seems like you won’t be able to hide what happened on ‘The Mission’ for much longer-”

Ghost slams his mug on the table, “nothing to hide, Sergeant.”

But Gaz is already 3 steps ahead in his brain, “I’ve heard he can create explosions, you think he could shoot up like a rocket? Could work well with my powers…”

Ghost stands up and groans, “he’s not a bloody spaceship Gaz, fuckin’ hell…”

He has a feeling Garrick and MacTavish will get along just fine.

The following days are… weird. Ghost never waited in anticipation for something as impatiently as he does right now. The clock seems to tick at a snail’s pace, and he finds his focus impaired. Thank his Reaper he’s not on a mission right about now…

Price is practically living in his office, constantly making calls and going through document after document. From what he understands, Soap is highly sought after for his explosion immunity, the best defuser there is.

Ghost is bitterly reminded of the huge pile of medical records in his personal file. That taste he rather not chase.

As for Gaz… His excitement grows by the day. It reminds Ghost that while the Sergeant is very friendly and always finds someone to talk to, he’s also one of the very few revenants on base.

He wonders if it feels as alienating as it does for him from time to time.

It’s not for 2 weeks later that he and Gaz are summoned to Price’s office. The place reeks of cigar smoke, and Price himself looks like he’s in need of at least 24 hours of sleep. But a triumphant attitude emanates from him in waves, and Ghost knows before he even opens his mouth what he’s about to say.

“It wasn’t easy, and I had to use every connection I had up there, but I got great news for you lads.”

Gaz smiles brightly, and turns his head to look at Ghost.

“I can finally say Sergeant Soap MacTavish is officially a member of the 141”.

Garrick cheers and floats high enough that Ghost has to drag him down before he slams his head against the ceiling, and sees the Captain’s expression shift.

“But…” Ghost starts for him. Of course this wouldn’t be this simple, nothing ever is.

Price exhales loudly, “Soap still has a couple of unfinished missions he will need to attend before he can join us fully.”

Gaz finally picks up on the mood shift, ‘...he will still be with us on base though, right?”

“Yes”, the Captain scratches under his iconic hat, and not for the first time Ghost wonders if it’s glued on with the way it refuses to fall off, “he will train with us, so take those few weeks as an opportunity to learn to work together. He’s quite powerful, and I think you will find… creative ways to work together.” with that last sentence, he glances at Ghost. Curious.

“When will the Sergeant arrive?” Ghost asks.

Price takes a quick look at the calendar, “3 days, early morning.”

That sends Garrick on a marathon of questions to Price, and Ghost retreats to into his mind.

3 days… 3 days and he will see those flames dance again. That Scottish lilt and crooked smile.

Ghost feels his mouth stretch in a hesitant smile, as if the muscles almost forgot the movement, and notices Price mirroring it.

Perhaps he could give a chance to hope.

Thank you all for reading and commenting! I appreciate it a lot <3

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starry-blue-echoes · 11 months ago

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Okay, I just got here. Sorry for intruding and I'm kind of freaking out about part 4 of Star Swap.

Because there are two Jotaros. Why is nobody talking about the fact that there are two Jotaros? Am I missing something???

Unless I am completely failing in Star Swap lore, in order to not become super convoluted and insane, a universe is localized to a Swap… probably? Anyway from what I understand three universes have an event happening in them and Star Swap is a series… except there's also an OLDER Jotaro here in Part 4! which would be the same Jotaro that experienced part 4 as Josuke! Which is causing problems in my brain.

… I was thinking it's either Joseph and Giono is the exception -Thanks to Hermit Purple Rrequiem- and swaps actually jumps across universes making Older Part 4 Jotaro have that Canon backstory.

…Or… hear me out..

JoJo

Specifically, Jotaro gets some of that Time Jumpy Amnesia and has not a single fucking clue what happened to himself.

JUST HIM

No one else

He is the sole one that gets bonk with a forgot stick

For all Jotaro knows: he blacked out, got possessed, and went to Egypt. Everything went well. His mom got cured and people survived, but STILL. said person that possessed him made a bunch of friends and now Jotaro has to deal with them. HE has to rely on other people's information to figure out what the hell HAPPENED.

Jotaro still gets that Battle Experience in and gets those cryptic forgotten fog of memories from the trip But Yeah

Jotaro has no idea what happened to him when that guy was possessing him. Jotaro doesn't know! he doesn't remember shit!!! All people got is theories.

I have a lot of thoughts and this is probably not even an issue.ARGGGG

.. I'm here thinking that for The Star Swap parts 3 and 4 to connect in an interesting way is Memory Blockage or else Part 4 Older Jotaro would have to walk on fucking eggshells if something wasn't blocking his memories because if he talks or says anything that doesn't link up then he breaks time. Jotaro's fault for actively getting involved!

Probably. I don't know!!! I'm just thinking!!!

you're correct, Parts 3 and 4 have been criminally neglected amongst all this chaos, so this is p e r f e c t

to clarify the universe shenanigans of everything: I've always been thinking that each "set" exists in its own universe. 1 and 6, 2 and 5, and then 3 and 4 all exist in their own sort of "pocket universe" just so we don't need to keep track of of all the inevitable changes and how they influence each other

that being said, funnily enough what you've brought up with Jotaro is REALLY close to what I've been imagining too!

Jotaro is So Fucking Lost when he wakes up back home. He feels like complete and utter shit and is covered in more bandages than he's ever had before. The last thing he remembers is his mom leaving after visiting him in the prison cell after he tried to shoot himself with Star Platinum

only...... when did Star Platinum have a name? When had it stopped being an evil spirit?

when had he stopped being scared of it?

Kakyoin and Joseph are of course INCREDIBLY worried by Jotaro's apparent and very sudden shift in personality. And of course, this panic only multiplies when they find they think Jotaro's stand has been changed as well. They immediately think it's a Stand attack......

but then Holly steps forward and denies this. That this is how Jotaro normally acts and more importantly, that she remembers seeing Star in the jail

now, technically this might be bending the rules a little bit, but I think it would be interesting to give Holly some..... memory weirdness. Maybe we can tie it into her Stand somehow, or maybe it's just For The Plot, but Holly has two distinct sets of memories before she collapsed from her illness

One where Jotaro comes home with her, quiet and awkward and open in a way he hadn't been since he was a child. And another where he refused to leave and shot himself in an attempt to goad a spirit hovering over his shoulder

this then raises the incredibly uncomfortable idea that the Jotaro they'd gone to Egypt with was the imposter. That there had been a fake in their midst the entire time and they never knew. Was he working with Dio? Another group? What was his goal? Why had he done it? And of course, the biggest question of all, where was Jotaro the entire time and why doesn't he remember?

because it's obvious Jotaro was somewhere. He has skills and knowledge he hadn't before. He's different, he's grown in some ways, but has receded in others

Electricity and loud sounds terrify him in a way that can't be described as simple fear

they do what they can to help and figure things out, but they can never find any leads. It actually during these investigations that Jotaro decides to start working with the Speedwagon Foundation on the side and "rekindles" his friendships with the Crusaders

(he finds himself drawn to Kakyoin at times. Or to be more specific, he's drawn to his Stand. The colors and shapes and eyes all feel so tantalizingly familiar, and sometimes he finds himself talking to the being as if expecting a response)

years go by, and the fog around his memories stays. It bothers him less as more time passes and he makes new memories with people who had a headstart on their relationship, but there's always a quiet niggling in the back of his mind about what could've happened

and then a decade later he finds a boy with a different face but identical Stand and temperament to match

#star swap #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #stardust crusaders #jjba part 3 #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #star platinum #jjba kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin #jjba holly #holly kujo #sb answers #angstaceanon

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youhavelessproof · 8 months ago

Text

Intro + Blog Info + Commissions + Fics

Intro 🌙

hi I'm Moon. I'm 19 and use he/they pronouns.

idk how to classify my sexuality anymore because I got loud bitches in my brain with varying sexualities but I am polyamorous. (yes I am part of a system. we think it's OSDD1-b but not looking for an official diagnosis.)

diagnosed autistic and ADHD haver. 👍

Blog Info 🦇

General:

this blog is gonna have a mix of NSFW and SFW content so please be an adult if you're actively interacting with me.

this is a Proship blog. just block if you don't like that. for basically any posts about ships I will only tag the ship tags so it's pretty hard to find me if you don't want to see that. that being said, just block and move on if you don't like proshippers in general. I'm not gonna feed into fights. we can co-exist on the internet without agreeing about fiction.

Ask Box:

the ask box is very open! I'm a yapper and I love yapping with other people! <3 feel free to dump whatever you want in there! stuff about Jaydick, Batcest in general, bottom Dick or Dick in general, really anything! I really don't mind how many asks any one person sends. gives me more opportunities to yap. anon is on!

Writing Commission Information 📝

please DM me on here or Discord if you're interested or have any questions. 🩵

Fics 📖

Nurture or Nature (Jaydick fic with past Brudick exploring Dick's mom/mommy tendencies. full of trauma and angst, but a hopeful ending.)

Puppy Dick (Series) (Jaydick pup play series with lots of feels and eventually smut.)

He Squirms So Pretty (a Brudick fic where Bruce watches Dick get sexually harassed five times and gets off on it + one time he acts on his urges.)

Pregnancy Glow (Omega Dick Week Day 1 where 12-year-old Dick ends up pregnant from an adult Ollie. he's happy with having a pup and is frustrated at how other people pity him.)

Boy Meets Machine (ODW Day 2 set in the Justice Buster universe where Dick gets a heat at 10 because of a drug withdrawal. the Robin AI helps with the mech suit he's controlling.)

Too Pretty (ODW Day 3 where Bruce has been secretly courting a 13-year-old Dick. Dick finds out but before he can run away, Bruce forcefully bonds to him.)

"Let Your Words Release Your Pain, You and I Will Share the Weight" (ODW Day 4 where Dick's instincts are frenzied because he's pregnant. Roy tries to help.)

Friends Definitely Help Friends Through Heats Platonically (ODW Day 5 where Dick was hiding he's an omega until his heat starts on a mission with Wally. Wally helps him out.)

Eggless Nest (ODW Day 6 where Pack Omega Dick cannot get pregnant and this disappointment leads to a false pregnancy.)

Bitching the Mind (ODW Day 7 where Bruce tries to stud Dick and it doesn't work, but it does fuck up Dick's mind to where he has Jason "bitch" him.)

"Room Feels Like a Meat Freezer, I Dangle in it Like Cold Cuts - Missed Calls, Answered Phones from People I Just Don't Trust" (A birthday gift for Mido - Slade shows up at Dick's apartment and manipulates him into sex because Dick has so many issues relating to older men.)

Lightning Rod (For the DC Rarepairs event - Dick/Roy/Wally Rebirth fic about Wally being lost in the Speed Force.)

Snarls and Scratches (A fic for the DGP Halloween event - Dick and Slade being cat shifters that get into a cat fight.)

Robin and the Distracting Panties (A commission for Hex - Dickbin's costume distracts the Fab Five and chaos ensues.)

Dangers in the Depth (A commission for Embers - Garth goes into a rut unbeknownst to him or anyone else and things go wrong when Dick goes to check on him.)

Nightwing (A fic for the DGP Halloween event - Nightwing being a pillar of the hero community.)

Wood Stained Red (A fic for the WilsonDick event - Joey is from a family of cannibals and Dick goes over for a weekend and it goes badly.)

Electromagnetism (A birthday fic for Birbie - Barry has come back to life and Dick is Batman, they bond and maybe fall in love.)

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echosoftheflower · 9 months ago

Text

A little drabble I wrote in an hour and a half based on a single brain nugget. TCD has me in a chokehold and I can't escape. If it feels unpolished, it's cause I finished and edited it in the middle of math class.

TW for guns, needles, and medical drugs

As they collected themselves and what was left of their recently split group they took in the world around them. The place seemed desolate. The only two things in sight being the player like zombies they had been running from since being dropped in here and, in the distance, a few building-like structures.

As they approached Grian recognized the structures as old warehouses and store fronts, the place likely had been, or made to look like, an urbanized town. Despite the dilapidated appearance of the buildings, they were mostly stone and seemed although they had once held steady. They were built to be used often and withstand weather without constant upkeep, very unlike the more varying and decorative material choices of Hermitcraft and other whitelist servers.

"This place had been residential, there used to have been businesses, and elders, and children here. Oh God, what happened to them? These types of servers are typically peaceful. Most don't even know how to use a sword." Gem murdered in horror

"Just because the server is meant to be peaceful doesn't mean it always is. A residential server can be just as dangerous as any whitelist. More so, as most are perma-death" Grian informed her with a hardened look in his eye.

as they walked closer to the border of the town Grian heard a sound that made his stomach drop and instincts kick into overdrive. The faint click of a gun's magazine being loaded.

His wings automatically snap inwards pressing themselves tight against his back as he drops to the ground for cover. He never was more thankful for his time with Sam, the Mafia, and police force than he was now as the old familiar movements caused him to shout out to his confused friends.

"WERE UNDER FIRE! GET DOWN!"

Suddenly loud and rapid BANG!BANG!BANG!s rang out causing many of the group to cry out in fear, likely not being prepared for such a weapon. The active fire was quick but to Grian's trained ears (of which he was covering to try and block out the noise for multiple reasons. God he hopes Ren is ok with how loud it is.) The fire was a bit too slow, sure faster than any crossbow that's for sure, but nothing close to the borderline automatics he was issued. Maybe it was his memory (finally) failing him, but these shots sounded too spread out, too precise.

The shooting soon stops. The hermits were only under fire for a minute and, due to Grian's quick reaction time, only sustained small injuries. They looked around trying to find where the shots had come from, soon spotting a figure on the top of one of the biggest buildings, seemingly leaning in their direction.

Mumbo, ever the polite one, waves to them. The figure moves back before disappearing for a moment. They reappear soon after, waving something in the air.

"I think we should head that way" Ren declared gesturing towards the strange person.

"Wha-" Grian sputtered "you want to go TOWARDS the person who was just shooting at us?! Are you insane?!"

"Griba, he has a point, '' Pearl started, ignoring Grian's distressed arguments. This is the first person we've seen and, judging from the rest of this place, it makes sense they're a bit jumpy. We probably spooked them"

"We also have to find the others" mumbo added "and I would very much like to get out of the zombies"

"I- well- but-" Grian continued to sputter but as he scrambled for something to say he realized this was probably their best chance. He sighed "....fine... But keep your guard up, we don't need them suddenly turning on us."

They approached the building and found the door barricaded from the inside. There was shuffling heard from inside the building as what sounded like multiple heavy objects were removed with struggle. Soon the door opened, just enough for a human to fit through. The door revealed a person, an eerily familiar person. He had short choppy cut brown hair, military goggles propped up on his head, a bandana laid over a vest holding multiple kinds of ammo. His button up shirt and pants, one leg now torn to the point of shorts, were a mess. His whole outfit was worn and dirty, old and new blood stains creating a sickening pattern. He is covered in everything from scratches to bruises to burns, and that was just the stuff he didn't bother to cover with bandages. He was covered in a multitude of old dirty bandages, anything from proper gauze and bandages to multiple plasters being desperately pasted over a wound that looks better suited towards stitches.

He looked thin, and tired and halfway to being a zombie himself, but his eyes seem to light up as he looked at them with shock, confusion, and hope. But behind it all was a sense of paranoia, the way his eyes flickered behind them, looking them up and down as if searching for weapons or supply.

Despite the bandages on his face hiding most features from sight there was something so achingly familiar about him, as if seeing someone you know’s family without the context they are related.

"Oh my God, I wasn't imagining things. You're actually alive, there are other survivors!" He breathed out in disbelief. But it was his voice, the cadence to his words, that finally struck them on why he was so familiar.

Scar

The group was separated when they first entered the world, scattered about in smaller groups. They had no clue where the others ended up but finally seeing Scar should have been such a relief.

But it wasn't

The man in front of them was missing some key features of their friend. From the skin that was shown, there were missing scars, the one across his nose bridge in particular stood out as missing.

Some of the less weary members of their group were held back to keep from telling the doppelganger anything was off.

"Oh, oh! Get inside quickly! I've cleared out most of the place but there may still be a few stragglers that somehow slipped in." He usured them inside and then promptly began attempting to seal the door again.

The struggle was clear and the reasoning for it was horrifying. The Scar lookalike's leg that was still covered by his pants leg was broken, twisted at an awkward angle. But that's not the worst part (though in this environment it is a pretty distressing reminder of the lack of respawn) no, the worst part is that he didn't seem to care. There was no crutch, no walking stick, no brace or even splint. He just struggled on it as he dragged the heavy looking crates back to block the door..

"I never thought I'd meet other survivors! Though I had considered that maybe there was someone else out there I had stopped looking after the first few weeks, and wow you guys look like your set up good. I look like a really mess out here compared to you." The other Scar excitedly rambled on as he finished blocking the door and started checking his supply, using the wall to make his way over to it.

It reminded Grian of a habit Scar had during the life games, always running a hand on the wall and checking the supplies every time he came in the door, no matter how short the trip.

" Do you guys need anything? This isn't my main base so I don't have much food on hand....Or water....Or medical.... But I can help out in any way I can. Though, you guys don't really look like you're hurting for much."

The look of confusion was back on his face as he looked them up and down once more. "How is that, by the way, I mean, I get perhaps being better off than me but you look like you have the water to spare to regularly clean your clothes. Or enough food to feed you all comfortably. How is that?"

"Oh, well, uhm" Ren began " we aren't really from around here."

The other Scar's eyes narrowed slightly. Seeming to trust them less and less as time goes on.

"You mean you're from a different area? Cause, friend, I've been all around the place and nowhere is safe. They can swim, climb, and crawl just fine."

'What he means is that we are from a different server" Mumbo chimes in, Grian gives him a look. Scar looks confused.

"Other...'server'? Like a computer? Sorry, I'm not really following." The hermits look at him in shock. Grian steps in first.

"How long has the world been like this?" He asked

Scar humed lightly "maybe, let's say.... Few years? Five? Somewhere around there I think. I don't really have a calendar, just an outdated GPS. He held up the device and the thing looked old even by whitelist server standards. It was run on some kind of daylight sensor keeping it charged and using electricity. Residential and peaceful servers were typically known for using electricity over Redstone as they have the people to maintain it and no mobs to worry about damaging or setting it on fire. If tango were here he would probably have snatched up the old thing.

But he says he had been here for a few years and doesn't seem to recognize them at all. Definitely not their Scar, so Pearl asks the next most pressing question. "Who are you? What's your name?"

"This is starting to feel an awful lot like an interrogation" he muttered under his breath "I'll answer but then I get to start asking the questions. My name is R-" he cut himself off before thinking for a moment. Then a mischievous, almost childish smile spread across his face. "Scar." He decided "you can call me Scar."

Other than the realization that that is definitely not his real name. The fact that he apparently shared a name (nickname????) with their friend would have been strange on its own but with all the similarities this was a whole new level.

"Alright, my turn, uhm...what's your guys names first of all. Gosh it's been a bit since I got to know someone." The last part was muttered under his breath but those in the group with advanced hearing heard.

"Well, I'm Gem, the Dog hybrid is Ren, the avian is Grian, that's Pearl, and he's Mumbo" she told him, running through their introductions

"Cool! Cool! And, uh, these servers you were on about? Can't say I'm too familiar."

"Server, you know, like different worlds. People set them up to live on and sometimes they have gimmicks or respawns?"

"Oh! World hoppers! I've heard about you before! My parents sometimes talked about rich people who didn't care for..." He trailed off, clearing his throat, seemingly thinking better of what he was about to repeat. "What brings you here?"

"Yeah, those, we uh, we got turned around and ended up around here. Thought we could ask someone for directions but couldn't find anyone, well, except you." Mumbo explained. "Where are they anyways, the other people I mean."

Scar's face solamed. He averted his gaze from them to stare at the ground

"The Other people?" Scar huffed a half laugh though there was no humor in his eyes. "I'm sure they probably gave you a warm welcome on the way in.

Realization struck the group, those player like mobs...

"You mean- those were-"

"It's nasty what a mutated virus can do."

The group grew silent, comprehending the terrors of what they just learned. It was broken by Scar who was trying to shove himself up using the wall.

"You're bleeding." He stated simply, looking to Ren whose ear got clipped by a stray bullet and various other hermit's injuries. "I have some bandages and, I don't know about where you're from, but here, if you bleed out, you stay dead."

"Mate, I'm not sure if you should be moving. That leg of yours doesn't seem to be in very good shape" Pearl started moving towards him to help.

"Oh, yeah, that, don't worry about that." He laughed nervously "I honestly can't even feel it."

"What?! How can't you feel it?! It's all twisty!" Gem exclaimed.

Scar didn't answer right away, making it over to a chest with the help of Pearl. He carefully began rummaging through it putting most things in his bag but setting aside a half used roll of bandages. Through his rummaging he pulls out of the chest a small, rectangle box. Inside is a syringe with some kind of clear liquid. Grian's eyes widened, glancing back and forth from the needle to Scar.

"Is that-"

"Morphine." Scar interrupted "Found some in a military medical supply and first aid kits. I try to use it sparingly but since I broke my leg it's been hard to move around without it" he puts the syringe away and puts the whole box carefully in his bag.

Grian furrowed his brows. "You should be careful, you could get addicted to that stuff."

Scar raised an eyebrow at him. "When choosing between using it too much and getting addicted and not using enough and dying, I think the choice is pretty clear." Pearl once again helped Scar make his way back over to the group with the bandages as he started to get them patched up.

Mumbo cleared his throat attempting to change the topic. " Sorry, but we actually came here with a group. You haven't happened to see anyone else around, have you?"

Scar shook his head "no, you guys are the first survivors I've seen in...well, in a long time"

"Right, right, of course" Mumbo mumbled "maybe you can help us go look for them?"

Scar looked conflicted, glancing out the window and at his bag. "I...I don't know. It's rough out there and if your friends are unprepared-"

"They are alright" Ren interrupted him, making Scar jump. "They are very good fighters and can adapt, I'm sure"

Scar looked at him, seemingly unconvinced, before once again thinking for a second, then he glanced back at them. "Ok, I can help you navigate and find your friends, on one condition"

Grian eyed him with suspicion, everyone knew scar was a conman, whatever this deal is could very easily leave them worse off than before. Scar leaned closer to them. "I want you to take me with you."

"What?" Gem questioned

Scar brightened up "take me with you, when you leave. After all, in order to leave you need to find your friends, and to find your friends you need me to act as your guide. So it seems only fair that when you leave, I can tag along. Sounds like a pretty clear cut deal to me!"

The hermits glanced at each other. Had this been a stranger then yes! They would have brought him along no problem. Just explain the situation to Xisuma and gain a new hermit. However this guy, he was somehow connected to Scar. Maybe he was another clone or evil counterpart, or worse maybe he was somehow a younger version and they would be destroying the timeline.

To bring him along was dangerous, however he did raise a good argument. Without his knowledge, they won't be able to find their friends, and by proxy the real Scar, at all. And also, one look at the small hope shining in his eyes at just the thought of escape, it twisted their hearts.

"We can't just leave him here," Pearl whispered to Grian.

Grian looked at him, conflicted before those eyes broke him. He sighed. "Yeah, ok, you have a deal"

Scar lit up and started laughing. He seemed to bounce excitedly and, if his leg wasn't messed up, may have gotten up to start pacing. "Oh! Oh good! Trust me you won't regret this. I will be the greatest guide on this side of the apocalypse. You just wait."

He started to stuff all the bandages back into his bag before zipping it up.

"We should head out as soon as day breaks, it's a bit of a walk back to my base and I'm sure you will want to look for your friends on the way. I'm sure we will find them before you can think"

"Really?" Mumbo questioned "because you didn't seem so confident before."

Scar smiled at him though it looked a bit more strained now "well that was different before. Now we just have to find them" his smile slowly fell as he looked towards the barricaded door. "We have to..."

#echos talking about old minecraft servers #echo's fics #tcd scar #the crafting dead #tcd #Hermitcraft

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writerswho · 30 days ago

Text

Fanfiction.

Title: Achilles, Come Down.

Words: 3074.

Ratings: Teen And Up.

Relationship: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Peter Parker.

Warnings: depressed peter parker, implied/referenced suicide, suicidal thoughts, peter parker is tony stark's biological child, harley Keener is tony stark's biological Child, tony stark is a bad parent, trans peter parker, suicidal peter parker.

Summary: Denki questions his luck and even his sanity. Why are all the schools in Japan on hilltops? And those that rarely aren't on top of a stupidly high hill are inside a geography depression, which is the same thing in the blond's opinion. One way or another, students have to walk up or down a hill to get to and from school. And that doesn't even count as an extra point in PE lessons, which Denki thinks is criminal.

Links: ao3, tips!

Commissions info here!

It started innocently. Just a link. It was sent to him by some random fan on the internet. He did not pay it any attention. People on the internet always send him the weirdest shit, sometimes he gets a laugh at it, and most of the time he feels the urge to bleach his brain. So yeah, he doesn't pay it any attention. But then the notifications do not cease to come. Message upon message, tag after tag. All in all, the link comes again and again. Still, he pays it no mind.

Then Pepper sends it to him, followed by Rhodes, Happy, every single one of the Avengers, and a bunch of desperate PR employees.

Yet, he continues to pay no attention to it.

“Answer your fucking phone!” Harley barges into his lab.

“I know I am a laid-back dad, but even I expect some level of respect from my kids, y'know?” Tony says without taking his eyes off his later project. “Maybe you want to leave and come back again? Maybe try knocking this time? I mean, you never know what I could be doing all by myself, right? No need to traumatise yourself,” he jokes.

“It is not time for you fucking jokes!” Harley all but yells. That catches Tony's attention. Looking up to meet his son's, Tony takes in the kid's appearance. He looks disarranged. With his eyes red, and puffed cheeks, and scruffy hair. The inside-out t-shirt, only one sock on, and short boxers the other way around. All in all, Harley kind of looks like shit.

“What happened? It was Morgan? Pepper?” Tony practically jumps off the chair, which falls to the floor with the sudden action. His armour arm is activated and ready to blast whoever or whatever. “What is the emergency?”

“The emergency is that you don't answer your damn fucking phone!” Harley continues to yell. He pushes his father off the way and snatches the man's phone off the table. “A hundred and thirty messages and you didn't open any of them! Besides the twenty missing calls! Why the fuck do you have a phone if you don't answer it when we need you to?”

“Well, I was busy!” Tony says defensively. If Harley has time to chew him up, it might not be a real emergency, so he deactivated his amour arm. “If it was really important, Jarvis would have informed me--”

“Jarvis is not working!”

“What?” That got his attention. “What do you mean he is not working?”

“Someone blocked his damn signal! Did you not notice that he is just not talking with you at all?”

That truth. Now that Tony is thinking about it, the last time he heard anything about Jarvis was about one hour ago. Usually, Tony would have noticed it way sooner with how much he uses the A.I. but he was feeling funny all night, worse after the last presentation at the music competition and that blasted song that hit too close to home, so he wanted to clear his mind and bury his worries and emotions and make-believe that he didn't feel like shit for something that has no right to make him feel like shit in the first place. So he put on some good music that didn't make him feel weird and started to work on his project in a rare 'hands-on' kind of way and just didn't ask Jarvis for any help.

“Jarvis, are you there?” Tony called for his A.I. friend but got no answer. “Jarvis!” When no answer came again, Tony felt dread.

J.A.R.V.I.S is his best and most complex project to date (minus, of course, the whole 'create a new element thing'). If someone is intelligent enough to block him out, Tony is terrified of finding out what they could do with his code. Someone could kill Jarvis.

“Out of my way!” Tony screams, latching himself to his computer.

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing Jarvis!”

“We don't have time for that! We need to find Peter!” Harley grabbed Tony's wrist and pulled him off the lab.

“Peter? I don't have time for it, I need to fix Jarvis and make sure he's alright.” Tony tries to fight his wrist off Harley's grip, but the boy is stronger than he looks.

“Did someone find him?” Harley asks with urgency once they reach the shared living area in the penthouse, ignoring Tony's protests.

Bruce, Steve, Natasha, Bucky and Pepper are scattered around the place. Pepper, Steve and Bruce by the couch and Natasha and Bruce by the kitchen island. Three of them have their phones out.

“Nothing with Rhodes,” Pepper says. She looks as bad as Harley. Tear marks on her cheek, unkempt hair, and irritated eyes.

“Nor Sam,” Steve informs. His tone is grave and solemn.

“Happy said he got hold of one his friends, they gave him a list of places he could be and said they would help with the search,” Nat chips in with a gravity she only uses on missions.

“Send me the list, I will grab the car and hit some locations.” Buck was already halfway out the door once he finished talking. Steve is not far behind.

“That is good, right?” Harley sounds almost hopeful. “They know him better, right? So they have to know where he is, no?”

“That is the hope, kid,” Nat agrees, even though she doesn't look that certain, but she is pretending well.

“What is happening here?” For one in his life was an annoying know-it-all genius, Tony has no idea of what is going on.

“He doesn't know?” Pepper asks.

“He doesn't look at his fucking messages!” Harley waves Tony's phone which he still holds in his hand.

“I said I was busy!”

“Too busy for you son?” Bruce asks incredulously.

“I am talking with him right now, ain't I?” He waves in Harley's direction.

“Peter, Tony!” Pepper screams. “We are talking about Peter!”

“Again with this kid! I don't know any Peter! Much less one that is supposedly my son!” Tony was getting annoyed with all the Peter talking. Tony had three kids, only one son. One son named Harley. There is no Peter's in his life.

The room fell silent. The adults are looking at him with some weird expression. Pepper is shocked, and Bruce looks sorrowful. And Natasha, well, she is Natasha, Tony can't read her.

Harley, on the other hand, is an open book. There is a plethora of emotions on his face. Fear, confusion, distress, anger, hate, sorrow. Betrayal. Hurt. Heartbroken. Tony doesn't know what happened to his kid to be feeling like that, but he hates seeing his kid like that.

“You fucking kidding me!” Harley throws Tony's phone on the wall near Tony's head.

“What the fuck!”

“You are telling me you didn't fucking know?!”

“Know what?”

“About your fucking son!”

“I know about my son! He's screaming at me and crossing some pretty big lines right now!”

“Fuck you and your lines!” Harley has hot-angry tears running down his face. “I defend you! I told him he was being dramatic and exaggerating and that you aren't the big bad guy they said you were, but you really are shit, aren't you?” Harley sounds defeated. “You know what? Fuck you!”

Harley runs out of the penthouse. Taking the stairs instead of the elevator, slamming the door behind him.

“What the fuck was that?” Tony yells. He searches for answers on his friends and wife's faces, but they look as pissed as Harley.

“I knew you're a moron, but I didn't expect you to be this big of an ass,” Natasha simply says before leaving the room. Bruce right after her.

“Pep, can you please, tell me what is going on here? Because I'm lost,” Tony practically begs. He is so tired. The last minutes have been nothing but chaos and he still doesn't know why Harley was so pissed in the first place.

Pepper doesn't reply, she only points to the flat screen on the wall and unmutes it.

There is a video playing. It is a grainy black-and-white video, edited to look old. There isn't much in the video. It is just a plain rooftop, with the city shining beyond the tip, and the full moon as the only source of light besides a torch tossed on the ground that creates more shadows than anything else. There is a figure on the edge, dark as the night. Small and out of place, leaning on the railing.

Tony doesn't know what is happening in the video but feels dread.

“Pepper, what is this?” His mouth is dry. Tony is afraid. He doesn't know why he is afraid, but he is so terrified.

“Roughly fifteen minutes ago, someone hacked into the Tower systems,” Pepper begins. “When we asked Jarvis about it, he informed us that Peter was the one who did it. When we asked him to notify you, he also informed us that Peter blocked his connection to him, and shortly after that Jarvis stopped responding to us.”

“So you are saying this Peter fellow screw my A.I. up? Who is this guy, anyway? You guys keep talking about Peter this and Peter that, I don't know who Peter is!”

“That is Peter, Tony!” Pepper points to the dark figure on the edge of the roof. “That is your son! Your kind and sweet and talented and brilliant son! Just look at him, Tony. Look at him and for the first time in his fucking life, see him!” She is crying, just like Harley before her.

Tony turns his attention back to the screen. The shadowy figure walks away from the ledge, stalking towards the torch. He catches his breath when the kid — because it's a fucking kid! — comes in the light.

It is the kid from the music competition. The one that sang the last song, who closed the night with a song that was nothing short of a cry for help. The same song whose lyrics are still playing on the back of Tony's mind, that left him feeling all funny and worried and depressed.

The kid who his band mates introduced as Peter.

But not only that, it is his kid.

The one who has been living with him for the last twelve years. His first kid. Not his firstborn, but the first one that was trusted upon him. The one that watched their mother die a painful death because Tony was too much of a coward to accept his responsibility and take the kid like the mother tried to do when she showed up at his office the first time. The one that didn't talk, didn't laugh, didn't sleep because of nightmares. The kid that he gave up. Because that is the truth, Tony gave up. He didn't know how to take care of the kid, so when he realised the kid wasn't as open and chat as he believed kids are supposed to be, he gave up instead of trying. Because it was too much trouble, too much effort for too little reward. By the third month of having the kid around, Tony was convinced that he wasn't suited to be a father. Then Harley showed up, and parenting seemed so easy with him that he blamed the kid for his shortcomings. He decided that if he couldn't connect with the kid, it was the kid's fault for being too difficult. So he focused on Harley, and the kid was just that: the kid.

The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid. The kid.

When was the last time Tony called his child by name? He doesn't remember. It doesn't even matter because it is Peter now. His kid's name, his youngest son's name is Peter. And he didn't know, because Tony didn't pay attention. Didn't care enough to do it.

Tony did his part. Paid for education, bought clothes and food, and gave the kid a place to live and an allowance. But that was it, wasn't it? He did the bare minimum, and pat himself on the back for it. Bragged about being a better father than Howard. Because he didn't scream, didn't yell, didn't force his children to be in the media, didn't use them as publicity stunts. But he is not better than Howard, not really. His father at least knew his name, even if he insisted on calling him Anthony.

How long has it been Peter? One month? One year? Now that he thought about it, Morgan is always going around about Peter. A kind, sweet and gentle boy who always has time to play with her and tells the best stories. Harley also talks about Peter. How he is funny and sarcastic, has terrible good taste in music and loves shitty old movies, and is one of the best people he knows.

Morgan's Peter and Harley's Peter are the same Peter. His son. The son he ignored, the son he did not even realise he had. The son everyone knew about but him. The same who pacing around the rooftop with a bottle in hand.

”Is this live?”

“It was,” she says. “From the reports we got from Jarvis before he went offline, Peter connected the Tower's CCTV to a live streaming feed. After the transmission ended, the video was automatically uploaded to the internet.”

“Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, come down,” Peter's voice fills the room. “Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?”

Peter is singing. He is on the top of some unknown rooftop, walking too close to the ledge, branding a bottle in one hand and holding a mike in the other singing about getting off the roof.

“You're scaring us and all of us, some of us love you. Achilles, it's not much but there's proof.”

Tony listens to the lyrics, paying his utmost attention to each verse and line. He feels his stomach turn and his chest tighten. Breathing is so complicated.

“Where you go, I'm going, so jump and I'm jumping,” he leans on the railing. Face downwards to the city. “Since there is no me without you.”

Tony just wants the song to end. He just needs it to end so his son can get off the roof.

“Loathe the way they light candles in Rome, but love the sweet air of the votives. Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone. Engage with the pain as a motive.”

Peter walks the length of the roof, tipping too close to the edge. His steps are clumsy and unsteady. The drink in his hands spills onto his clothes and splashes across the scene.

“Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, jump now.” Suddenly, the lyrics change. Peter's voice is full of hate and self-loath. A silent panic takes over Tony. “It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now. It's a pointless resistance for you.”

The French sample in the background carries on. Going on about crisis and triggers, and Peter is closer and closer to the edge.

“You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing,” he keeps singing, the bottle is still in one hand and the mike cradle is in his chest. “And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it. Do not waste yourself on this roof.”

The lyrics go on, and Peter doesn't get off the roof. Tony has half of a mind to just jump on his suit and try to track down his son. But keeps remembering himself that it is a record, and from what he heard when Harley dragged him to the communal area, Peter's friends and Tony's family were already trying to find him. And they will. Because if they don't, Tony doesn't know what he's going to do.

“But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker,” Tony's voice suddenly cuts through the audio.

“What?”

“You're worth more, Achilles,” Peter continued, ignoring what Tony's voice said.

“You will not be more than a rat in the gutter,” Tony's voice continues. It's clearly fake with the robotic undertone of something done with the help of a machine.

“I never said that! I would never say that!”

“So much more than a rat,” Peter continues to argue.

“I know, Tony.” Pepper has a pained expression. She knows, as much as Tony knows, that the voice is fake. But it is not the problem here. It doesn't matter if he never said it, doesn't matter if it is fake, what matters is that it is his voice. It is his voice yelling to his son Achilles to jump.

“You want my opinion, my opinion you’ve got,” Tony's voice continues to taunt.

“No one asked your opinion!” Tony screams at the recording at the same time Peter sings the same line.

“You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts,” Tony's voice ignores both of them.

“No one asked for your thoughts,” Peter doesn't give up.

“Be done with this now and jump off the roof,” Tony's voice sings at the same time that Peter says, “Be done with this now and get off the roof.”

Together, they keep going, “Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you. I'm talking to you. I'm talking to you. I'm talking to you. Achilles, come down. Achilles, come down.”

Tony doesn't know if the song keeps going for another minute or two or sixty. He stopped thinking straight the moment he realised who was on the roof. Listening to the mockery of his voice telling his taunting his son Achilles to jump.

“Today of all days, see how the most dangerous thing is to love.”

The recording ends with an unnerving silence. Peter stares at the camera, his finger pointed at it like a gun, the bottle of the mysterious drink still secured between three of his fingers. Raising his finger-gun to his head, Peter smiles. So bright, so sad. Thirty seconds after the end of the song, Peter pulls the imaginary trigger.

The feed cuts out with nothing but static.

#please read the author's note on ao3 #marvel mcu #mcu fandom #mcu iron man #mcu spiderman #peter parker #tony stark #harley keener #spider man #spider-man #spiderman #tom holland spiderman #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x harley keener #iron dad

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 2 years ago

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4402's zombie au notes and commentary

so obviously i started thinking about this au for this request but let me tell u! when it comes to big aus like these one of the best starting points for me is to think about the worldbuilding. which i guess always happens with me, but the thoughts i had on how the characters translate to an apocalypse setting plus not abiding by other media rules on zombies was simply too much to think about that couldn't get covered in that fic! so here u go! free brainrot material! obvious spoilers for that fic btw

i didn't want to tie myself down with the mechanics of zombies, esp ones we already know from other media like the walking dead or whatever. so a lot of the terminology here is vague. the "outbreak" can refer to an illness just as well as an infection or mutation or even an invasive species, but the important part is that it's highly contagious, kills, and then regenerates the body FAST once it comes in contact with blood

on that note. it is confirmed topical/parenteral contact with the zombie spreads the condition, but when reader tastes the blood on their face in the final scene, uh, bad news for them, oral administration/digestion would not end well

every character has a role in their party. shu is the brains (and was a lot more of a support than leader before the events of the fic), while luca is the brawn. vox and ike are doers- vox is an active presence and throws himself into danger, while ike stays behind and makes sure the little details run smoothly. mysta was the moral compass that made sure everyone's spirits were high enough to avoid conflict. and reader is an observer. they usually intake information faster than the rest of the crew, and know how to perceive when things aren't adding up

every character has a weapon, and i wanted these to be more unconventional ones to really hone in the apocalypse theme. i almost gave vox a machete but i figured that's only something rural homeowners would have on hand (i wanted everyone's origins to be vague so this fic is more relatable) and also, it's a little too on the nose, no? besides, using a rebar ripped from a broken building? that's metal as fuck

when i started the fic shu was entirely an improvised weapon guy. lots of disposable things. the molotov was a reference to his fire sorcery, and millwall bricks are made entirely from newspaper. as i continued i realized he needed something consistent, so he got a fire poker as another reference to his lore

luca is the only person with two weapons, a shotgun and a spiked bat. he's the muscle after all! i tried to veer away from lore bc obviously some luxiem would have a huge advantage if they had, say, demonology or curses available. but i will say it's probs canon he's been around the block at least, no comment on if he was actually a mafioso or not. either way. he's the only one there that really understands firearms and how to stay calm until you really need it, and the spiked bat is his default. it's brutal and easy to use

reader uses two climbing picks. i'm not totally sure why, but for the past few months i've been enamored with climbing picks as a weapon. watching the new puss and boots last month didn't help either. they're like sickles, but less difficult to use since they aren't as curved. and they're practical outside of a fight too! this is the important part about why reader uses them. they're observant. sure, there's more conventional weapons in the party, but the picks are multiuse, and can get you out of a pinch, like how you and vox scaled the townhouse to escape. total bummer you were trapped underground, though

ike... okay. i'm not immune to eki. and it's just that he pairs so well with knives, no matter how hard i tried i always came back to them! more specifically how he has a set, not just one. the others don't come into play but he has a full set of kitchen knives- the others, he meticulously cleans and uses when preparing food or shelter. the largest chef's knife is dedicated for zombie slaying, and the cleaver can cut through bone. you have to use force to use a cleaver correctly. it's impractical for when a zomb's in your face, but give him the time and he can confirm none of them rise again. one of the may ways he stays in the background and makes sure everything is going to plan even when his assistance isn't really flashy

i never wrote him using it but mysta had a woodcutter's hatchet. he also chose his weapon for practicality like reader and ike. however, if you know anything about realistic axe fighting, it's that woodcutter axes are wildly different from fighting axes. the former is extremely heavy while the other is light. once you swing with a woodcutter's hatchet you can't stop. he was looking for a lighter alternative before the townhouse incident, like a proper weapon or a fireman's hatchet, but. well. um

mysta himself is more of a concept than a character in this fic. he definitely had a presence in the party before the events but there's a reason he never had any dialogue. he represents the morale of the party just as much as he does the unreachable sun. "because mysta died" is an unspoken motivation for just about everything the characters do in this fic, and his name becomes synonymous with a peaceful afterlife after hell on earth. when the characters can't even utter his name, it's because that peace is so far away they can't possibly fathom it

the luxiem + reader dynamic was way more lighthearted before mysta's death. it wasn't all joy, because hello, zompocalypse! but it was enough. his death is what kickstarts the animosity, as well as the trauma responses of the rest of the guys. ike's is mentioned by reader a few times and shu's grief is a source of tension but the rest of luxiem wasn't as focused on

vox is characterized with this heroic, "it's up to me to make things right" type of savior complex. mysta's death is the first time things have gone so horribly wrong, and the way that he sees it is like, "i watched him get swarmed, and if i could watch him then i could've ran and fought. my inaction is the reason why he died". even the way he breaks the news to shu and the gang is presentational because he detaches himself from reality for this whole hero thing, even though he doesn't recognize it himself. he's very dramatic. but he also deflects emotion in pursuit of action, like telling shu to set the townhouse on fire, and ignoring reader's concern over him. his last action is attempting to save reader and ike even when he knows there's nothing he can do, and all he has to show for it is his hand getting crushed by a piece of rubble that falls on it

i am VERY PROUD of how i wrote luca. which is to say i didn't write him at all. his characterization is invisible and that's what makes me so happy about it! i feel awful for him them most out of anyone here! vox witnessed mysta get swallowed up by the horde but luca was there with mysta the entire time, and when mysta sacrificed himself so luca can live, luca froze in shock and fear. he never gets over that moment. and luxiem doesn't mean to exclude him, but they're so worried over shu's meltdown and what to do next and this and that to read how mixed all his feelings are on it. vox is fixated on protecting him, and when he's in shock ike hides luca's vision so he's the only one that doesn't see mysta's silhouette in the townhouse before it goes up in flames. i... don't want to give away the answer, i'm sure rereading will identify it, but there's this one line of dialogue that sums up everything he's going through perfectly, and even reader the observer doesn't notice it like how he wants it to be noticed. my heart bleeds for him. when the ceiling collapses reader is struck by how he freezes, and it's a reprise of mysta's death for him. he's not getting over that either. after all he's the muscle but what good is muscle if it can't move?

shu,,,,,, if there's anything that i can say it's that he's not trying to be the villain. he had to mercy kill his brother in one of the most brutal ways imaginable, and then had to speedrun the five stages of grief because someone needs to lead this team. vox tries to lead just as much as shu does, but luca makes a good point. i don't think shu hates them at all. he's a very mama-bear type of character. he has a clear vision in mind of what he wants the path to look like, and anything outside of his vision is uncertain and thus dangerous. but luca makes a good point, and how malicious it's intended to be, i can't say, but he shuts down vox and luca a lot. he would never admit it during the events of the fic but there is a very ugly, very cavernous part of his soul that wants to blame someone, plural

so reader and ike are dead right. those two were the most mentally healthy(?) of the group, or at least, the ones that could help the group manage stress the best. now all that's left is vox, who hates himself for failing to save his friends three times now; shu, who already wasn't taking mysta's death well and certainly isn't going to do any better with the latest casualties; and luca, who everyone wants to protect and no one wants to listen to, and can barely get a word in between shu and vox's fights, and knows he doesn't have the instinct to act when it matters. i wish i had the clarity of mind to see and write their travel together. two of them were already at each other's throats, and the third is about ready to snap. i wish i could tell you how they destroy one another

there were so many points in this fic where i had to ask myself, am i going too far? this happens often, especially with angst, especially with romantic x readers. sometimes i wish i could describe ugliness! snot from crying and screaming so hard you retch in chunks, contortion, all that noise! when i get an opportunity to describe gore i fuckin' take it because that's pretty grody but in a hot bloodshed way. lots of other nastiness isn't very attractive, though, and the point of romantic x readers is to be attractive. so these "should i take a step back" moments really come in through with shu's breakdown, which was written to be as visceral and scathing and uncomfortable as possible. in early-early planning mysta was originally intended to been bitten and turned as you would expect, but the fire was added to it promptly to continue the plot- and when i wrote it, i felt so awful, it was such a brutal way to go out. that's when i figured i just need to commit to the thought, make things feel raw and tangible instead of manicured, and that i'd just be generous with tags. i'm very glad i stayed committed. even though i had to take so many mini breaks in ike's final moments to just look up and mutter to myself "man i'm so fucked up for this one". i'm also very glad that i knew reader would've blacked out and repressed the memory of killing ike, because i did say earlier, cleavers cut through bone. i love a good bloodfest but i think i gotta draw the very-far-away line at ike's head split apart, hotdog not hamburger

#luxiem #ike eveland #luca kaneshiro #mysta rias #vox akuma #shu yamino #luxiem x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #4402 writes

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itsuki-minamy · 2 years ago

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"K – RETURN OF KINGS" (NOVEL-ADVANCE)

CHAPTER 9: NEKO'S DREAM (Pages 440-447)

TRANSLATION: NARU-KUN

"In this age, not just the ones who need us, but the ones "we" need, we will take all."

Nagare activated a special ability and made several windows float in the air. Ranker Limited Quest.

An important order as a mission only for Mishakuji and Sukuna. When he stroked it, the window turned into a paper airplane and flew off into the darkness.

"Activate mission 5538. Let's raise a new "Jungle" with our own hands."

With a small murmur, Nagare slowly rose to his own feet.

++++++++++

Cutting through the darkness of the night, the sound of the 750cc exhaust carried through the metropolitan highway.

As he made his way through the gaps between the trailers, the big motorcycle of "Kerun" ran like an arrow. With his full-face helmet he didn't feel the wind, but the landscape he saw melted at great speed and didn't hold a constant shape. If he made the slightest mistake steering the wheel, he would be thrown high and far and melt into one of the blobs of that landscape.

Inside the rider's gloves, his palms were soaked. Gripping the steering wheel over and over again, "Kerun" yelled.

"Hey, "Jema"! Persecution, what's going on?!"

He was sure that he had already gotten rid of them, it was okay to slow down. Disappear and reappear as if it had been blown away by the wind. As the lights streamed in from the edge of his vision, "Kerun" wished for him from the bottom of his heart.

"No! They're still chasing us! ''Scepter 4'' even sent a helicopter?!"

Thinking it was a joke, he felt a chill in his stomach. Thoughts and memories rushed through his mind as fast as the landscape passed.

It was supposed to be just a game. If you win, you get points, and if you use the points, you get super powers, it's a wonderful game. "Kerun'' and "Jema'' advanced by leaps and bounds. They weren't strong, but they were quick and wise. They only dabbled in safe, delicious missions, and they won handily. The power they gained there helped them change their lives. A lot of money, delicious food, fun trips, cute girlfriends, all of which are things that cannot be obtained as a student, all of which are obtained through "Jungle".

And now all of that was about to be removed.

The HUD that was displayed within the full face summoned even more despair. A map that reflected his location information, the destination was blocked with a red X mark. "Scepter 4" was shutting down traffic. The only way to escape was to go down the lower path. If so, it's the end of the series. "Kerun" was not so good at motorcycle technique that he could run freely on narrow roads.

University, family, girlfriend, finding a job, life. Several words came to his mind. There is a lot written on the "Jungle" forum about what happens to psychics trapped in "Scepter 4". Day after day, unspeakable torture would await him. According to one person, they were thrown into a special prison and never returned to society. According to another person, electrodes were implanted in their brains and they were forced to work permanently as a slave to "Scepter 4".

Even if those comments contained exaggerations, he would undoubtedly be branded as "criminal". He would drop out and live a long, dark life as a straggler.

He didn't like that. Why did he look like that? There are many guys doing worse things.

At the moment when his face distorted as if he was about to cry, a voice suddenly echoed in his ear.

"Do you want me to help you?"

Jiggle, the rider outfit trembled. He didn't know where he was hearing it from. When he entered the HUD, an unknown account was connected to the voice chat. "Kerun" he shouted agitated.

"Who are you?! Jema, what's going on?!"

"I-I don't know! Although it's supposed to prevent unauthorized accounts from entering."

"With that level of security? Are you serious? Well, it doesn't matter. Whether you want help or not, decide in 10 seconds."

The blocking net was closing on the map every moment. He didn't have time to hesitate. "Kerun" he begged someone he didn't know.

"Help me! I'll pay you!"

"Ok. Go down to the lower path."

Before thinking about it, "Kerun" slammed on the brakes, turned the steering wheel, and left the metropolitan highway. As he crossed at excessive speed, more voices echoed.

"Turn right at the first light. Go straight and stop at a convenience store. Just wait for instructions."

"Oh, hey! If I do something like that, I'll get caught by "Scepter 4"."

"If you want to be safe, listen to what I tell you in a low voice."

Gritting his teeth, he still did as he told him. At the same time, he activated "Whisper Command" and ask "Jema", who should be watching from afar.

"W-What's going on? Who is he?"

"Uh, I don't know! But he's quite an advanced hacker. Our conversation just now could have been overheard..."

Of the two, "Kerun" is mainly in charge of practical work and "Jema" is mainly in charge of information processing. Since "Jema" said so, it would be better to think that the network was under control.

While he was thinking about such things, "Kerun" stopped in front of a convenience store.

His vision was shrouded in darkness.

"......?!"

He panicked and looked left and right. He was pitch black for only a moment, and what jumped out at him were the exposed concrete and inorganic guide lights. Somewhere in the underground escape passage a thought came to him...

A voice came from the side this time.

"Let's hide here for a while."

A figure suddenly appeared in a space that should have been empty. The entire body was wrapped in black clothing, and the face was covered with a full face mask. It was a bit different from the camouflage mask they wore, but it was definitely a member of "Jungle".

"...Ah, are you the guy who contacted me?"

When he cautiously asked, the black clad shrugged slightly.

"I'm under no obligation to respond. My job is to get the target to safety."

Saying that, the black clothed one put his hand to his ear and began to communicate somehow.

He didn't know what it was.

But at least "Scepter 4" didn't seem to get there. When he looked at the map on the HUD, he could see blue emblems representing PCs with "Scepter 4" and follow-on helicopters moving back and forth around them. "Kerun" felt a cold sensation that they must be looking around.

"Eh?"

"Kerun" couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The map started to move, but he hadn't moved. However, the marker meaning "myself" on the map was moving at considerable speed. An old marker began to move in pursuit of him.

Like a hyena chasing wounded prey. "Kerun" looked at him in a daze and uttered words that weren't even a question.

"What's happening...? Am I here? Why is the map moving?"

The answer came out of his ear.

"What's moving is a discarded PDA I set up here. I hacked into your account and made you log in twice there. It'll take a while before they notice the clothes."

"Huh?! Hey, what are you doing?! Taking someone's account without permission!"

"Well then, shall we bring them back? The blue clothes will gladly come to pick you up."

He had no words. He didn't like it, but he had to listen. That guy certainly seemed to be an ally, but an ally in "Jungle" means nothing more than "an opponent who has the same interests". Depending on the situation, he could always become an enemy.

Before long, the mark of "Scepter 4" disappeared from the map, and "Kerun" patted his chest in relief.

"...Apparently, it seems to be fine. Thank you for your help."

"The reward is 10,000 JP."

The blood of "Kerun" was frozen at the ready-to-use request.

"What? 10,000 JP?"

"Ah. I won't lose a single point."

"Fu, don't be silly! Didn't you hear that story?!"

"You're the one who received the reward without checking. I've already done my job. Now it's your turn to pay."

"Kerun" was again stuck in the voice. He couldn't help but admit that there was a reason for what he said to the other party. No matter how impatient he was, he should have confirmed the reward and negotiated.

He didn't think so. At that time, he didn't have that kind of time. "Kerun" is just a college student. There was no way he could make a decent judgment or bargain in the ten seconds that would ruin his life.

In other words, this guy knew and extended a helping hand.

"I don't have that many points."

Feeling bitter, "Kerun" had no choice but to defend himself. He now he had about 4,000 points. He couldn't shake the sleeves.

"Is that so? If you combine it with your partner, you can prepare around 10,000."

By partner, he meant "Jema." First of all, that communication should be a private chat with that guy. Although he was listening to that conversation, he hadn't said a single word since before.

"Hey, Jema..."

He called out to his "partner" with a grasping sensation, but again there was no response. He was still connected. However, the fact that there was no reaction...

"You were abandoned."

The one in front of him, dressed in black, was the one who muttered. There was no tone of mockery in his words. It was a way of saying that he was only confirming the reality in front of him.

This time his blood boiled. The fact that he was the only one trying to save himself from it aroused his helpless rage. He raised his fists and shouted.

"Don't be kidding! Oh, I'm not paying, because it's just me!"

The angry voice that echoed inside his mask suddenly stopped.

A blade was plunged into "Kerun's" throat. It was the point of a sword drawn by the guy in the black armor. It was so fast that he didn't even know when he pulled it out. Anger withered and fear arose in its place.

"Is that so? Then let me take your life."

"Oh, hey..."

"Killing the target won't give you a penny, but if you throw it away, you won't be able to show anything else. Even "Jema" will pay what he owes if he finds out about the target's fate. Then, it will be completed."

"Wait, wait! I understand!"

Still rigid, "Kerun" let out a miserable voice. Tears clouded the HUD vision, out of fear and regret. The black robed guy's words were not threats. He really he would do what he said he would do. That is what "Kerun" knew intuitively.

#k #k project #k return of kings #jungle #scepter 4 #fushimi saruhiko #hisui nagare #douhan hirasaka

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jodithann827 · 2 years ago

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Pretty Woman 8/11

Rating: Explicit / posted on AO3 /tagging @today-in-fic

SocialPro Headquarters

Beverly Hills Office

Tuesday

9:02 am

Sitting behind his larger-than-life mahogany desk, Mulder fiddles with the small rectangular tickets in his hand. So many life-altering thoughts are swirling through this head. Visions of business ventures, Diana, Mr. Spender, and Scully. He’s beginning to see what Scully was saying about Spender. The old man had called the previous evening, pushing Mulder for an answer. Attempting to hold him off, Mulder informed him he would be away from the office for the day but promised to get back to him. The more Mulder thinks about it, the offer doesn’t sit right with him. He’s excited to get away, clear his head, and think about the decision with an open and carefree mind.

He puts tickets down gently and then quickly picks them back up, turning them over. A knock at the door startles him, bringing him out of his trance-like state. As the door opens, Mulder drops the tickets into his open desk drawer and casually looks up to meet Diana’s eyes.

“So what’s it going to be Fox? Are you willing to play ball with Mr. Spender?” she asks, dropping to a chair in his office.

“What’s his first name?” Mulder asks. Diana opens her mouth to begin to speak, then quickly closes it. Her face indicates that she’s searching her brain for an answer. In her silence, Mulder continues, “Don’t you think it’s odd that we don’t know his name? He doesn’t seem to play by any social rules, he doesn’t answer to anyone but himself, that we know of. I mean, who is this guy?”

“Who is this guy?” she repeats, not fully comprehending what Mulder is trying to imply. “He is a very rich man who wants to give you a truckload of money for his internet company. So what if you have to do some ‘behind-the-scenes activities for him. Fox, this deal is almost closed. Finish it already!” She looks at him and sees that he is not actively looking at her, but instead picking up and playing with rectangular papers.

Fox,” she snaps. “What is wrong with you? Your behavior has been outlandish,” she punctuates. His silence speaks volumes so she goes in for the kill. “Up late with the hooker?”

This gets Mulder’s attention and fire flashes across his eyes. Diana realizes she may have taken it a step too far and backtracks. “I just mean that clearly, this woman has you under some type of spell, the way you’ve been acting. I alluded to it yesterday.”

Mulder, doing his best to ignore her, hastily pushes back from the desk and stands.

“Spender is my business, Diana. And so is Dana. I’ll see you tomorrow, Diana.” He shifts to make his way toward the door but Diana quickly steps in front of him, blocking his way and not caring that she has moved completely past the realm of professionalism.

“It’s nine o’clock in the morning. Where are you headed?”

“I have a date,” he says, though he offers no additional information. He sidesteps her.

“A date?” she questions, doing little to hide how appalled she is. She turns, watching him head for the door. “You’re dating the hooker now?” He pauses as he reaches the office door and turns, eerily calm, then meets her confused eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Diana. I’ll be out of touch all day and evening,” he says, shutting her down and ending the conversation. With that he turns to leave, offering up no further explanation.

California Freeway

11:10 am

“You’re kidnapping me,” she informs him as they sit in comfortable silence in the limo with Langly driving through the streets of California. There’s no fear in her voice, only eagerness.

“Kidnapping would imply that I took you without your consent,” Mulder replies in that charming and self-assured way Scully has grown to like over the past few days. “You willingly got into the car.” They sit next to each other with one of Mulder’s hands draped across Scully’s knee, idly drawing a figure eight over and over. In the past twelve hours, he has been overcome with this great need to be touching her, feeling her presence. Her almost departure shook him deeply, something he struggles admitting to himself.

“That’s because there was a promise of a surprise,” Scully explains while fidgeting in her seat, unable to stay still. She’s excited in a schoolgirl-like way. It doesn’t help that at the start of the adventure, Mulder placed a blindfold over her eyes. Scully shivers, thinking about other things she could be doing with and to Mulder with the covering on her face.

“Still not kidnapping.”

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” she pouts, hoping he can hear the tone in her voice, not even knowing if he’s looking at her or not.

“Patience, Scully.”

She huffs, but on the inside she is jubilant. She can’t remember a time someone did something for her out of the goodness of their heart. Yes, on one hand, Mulder is paying her for the week. However, Scully can’t help but think that their actions over the past day or two, have gone beyond the arrangement. She’s never felt like this before. The butterflies flutter about in her stomach when she thinks of him. The emptiness in her heart when he isn’t with her. She breathes slowly, trying to rid herself of the lump she knows is forming in her throat. Pull it together, Dana. You only have today and tomorrow with him and then this is over, she thinks. That only makes the lump grow, so she tries another tactic. Dana, this man, this sweet, caring, sexy-as-hell man, is trying to give you the best day. Get out of your head for a while and try to enjoy it! Mission slightly accomplished, she sighs, leaning into Mulder ever so gently, relaxing to the feeling of his hand on her knee.

After what seems like an agonizingly long drive, the limo slows. Losing the warmth of Mulder as he quickly exits the car, Scully then feels his tight grip slip around her slim fingers. With a pull, she is out of the car, but her equilibrium is off due to the blindfold. Mulder steadies her, the cloth never slipping from its position. Feeling a tickle in her ear, she hears, “Wait here. Langly is behind you and won’t let anything happen to you. I need to take care of a quick thing and then I’ll be right back.” Before she can protest, she feels a breeze replacing the warmth where he just stood. Panic quickly sets in, yet she maintains a slow and calming breath, knowing Mulder would not leave her in a helpless situation.

“He needs to go check in,” Langly whispers from a foot or so behind her, sensing her hesitation and rising apprehensiveness.

“Where are were Langly?” she questions, knowing he won’t answer her.

“This is supposed to be fun, Scully; make sure to enjoy yourself,” is his only response before going mute again.

After what seems like eons, though she’s sure is less than five minutes, she senses Mulder’s presence back at her side. Grasping her hand, he leads her forward. They walk ever so slowly.

“You know, Mulder,” she starts, “You could take this off and we could get where you want to be faster.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Scully? This is probably the most excited I’ve been about a surprise in… hell in I don’t know how many years. It’s just as much for me as it is for you. Please don’t make me ruin it. I promise we’ll lose the blindfold in a few minutes.”

The genuineness in his voice doesn’t surprise her in the sense that he is tickled for her, but more so for the fact that he is exhilarated about it himself.

After a few more strides and a few more minutes, they come to a stop. Scully hears people, lots of people, but beyond that, she cannot fathom where they are.

Standing just behind her, Mulder unties the cloth and lets it fall from Scully’s vision.

Raising her hand to her mouth in utter disbelief, all she can muster is, “Oh my… Mulder…”

“I wish it was Cinderella’s, but Sleeping Beauty’s will have to do. We didn’t have time to make it to Florida,” is all he says, letting her take in the vision before her.

Spellbinding is the first word that comes to mind. Amazing. Magnificent. Completely unbelievable. Magical. The bricks are several shades of gray. The flags burst with gold emblems. The tower points are the most spectacular shade of blue. It’s an image she’s only seen in pictures and only perceived in her mind. She’s standing at the foot of Sleeping Beauty’s castle. Large crowds move about their day around them, but for Scully, time stands still. She is back in her childhood home with her family, healthy and happy. She’s on vacations, at dance recitals, and at school science fairs. She is in every wonderful memory she can summon from her childhood. Tears spring to her eyes as she whips around to finally face the man she is falling in love with, but can never have.

“You brought me to Disneyland.” It’s not a question. It’s barely a statement.

Mulder seems shy, almost bashful; he wasn’t sure how she would react and this is almost too much. So he states the obvious, “I brought you to Disneyland.”

Suddenly her arms are around him and she’s squeezing as if trying to convey how much this moment means to her through a hug. “I hope you like it,” he says into her hair, his arms running softly over her back. She pulls slightly back and arches an eyebrow.

“Like it? Mulder, no one has ever done anything remotely close to this in my entire life. I don’t even have the words to–”

“Then don’t say anything. Let’s just enjoy the day. We have plenty of time in the park, several shows to see, an amazing dinner planned, and then to top it off, we’re spending the night in the castle.”

Scully’s eyes widen, though she didn’t think they could get any bigger, “Mulder…”

“Come on, Scully,” he says, maneuvering his arm so Scully can link hers with his, “let’s go to Disneyland.”

She pauses briefly and turns to him. “Mulder, this is… well this is truly amazing; thank you. And if I forget to tell you, I had an amazing time today.”

He blushes again and smiles, then leads her to where the fun awaits.

Carthay Circle Restaurant

9:45 pm

Elation mixed with a feeling of fulfillment settles over her. Not just because she is stuffed with the most amazing food she has ever eaten, but full of joy, happiness, jubilation, and glee, just to name a few, due to the last ten hours and the company she kept. The day spent with Mulder in the park was one that even in her wildest dreams she never could have imagined. They had played—literally played—like children who were given a free pass to a glorious world of magic and imagination. She felt free. Not restricted to the life she was currently living. Not worrying about her family, her employment, and what she wanted to do with her life. She’s been thinking these last few days about her life: agonizing, contemplating, unable to believe she can go back to the boulevard with Missy. There is more to life and she is ready to explore it all.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Her eyes raise to meet his.

Still guarded, she replies, “This food, this day, this place. It’s—it’s almost too much.” Mulder reaches for her hand after placing his dessert fork on his plate.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. You deserve it, Dana.”

Scully’s eyes widen at the mention of her first name, but she doesn’t speak, sensing he has more to say.

“You are a loving, warm, compassionate, and passionate person. You have much to offer. You have brains and beauty. You could do anything, Scully, be anything.” A single tear threatens to fall from her eye. He’s looking at her and truly seeing her, beyond the job. He understands her better than anyone has since she lost her father. Needing to do something with her hands, she lifts her champagne glass and sips.

“Thank you, Mulder.”

There’s a moment of silence between them, both taking in the day and the evening to come.

“Well,” he tosses his napkin on the table. “Another spin around the park? A stroll downtown?” He’s sliding his foot along Scully’s leg.

She stares at the man in front of her, his beautiful face and tender heart. She knows that she has fallen head over heels in love with him. Leaning forward so her face is inches away from his, in a sultry tone she whispers, “Take me to bed, Mulder.”

Sleeping Beauty’s Castle

10:20 pm

Thump.

Lifting Scully in his arms, he holds her tight against the suite door. He’s ravaging her neck as she’s scraping her nails along his back.

Their coupling over the last week has varied. Sometimes soft and delicate, sometimes quick and dirty. It would be a lie if Scully said she didn’t want it all tonight. She wants every variation, every angle, and all of Mulder. The feeling of his hands kneading her ass and his unmalleable erection presenting itself through his pants. He is without a doubt marking her neck, but at the moment she doesn’t care. All she cares about is becoming lost in the pleasure that is Fox Mulder. As if reading her thoughts, his hands dig deeper into her, wrapping around her back.

“Where–” she starts to ask, but he cuts her off.

“If I don’t get you into bed right now…” he stops short of finishing his sentence. She shivers, knowing in her head what will happen if he doesn’t get her into the bed, not that she would mind.

The room is magnificent. As beautiful as the castle was on the outside, the interior is even more so. Spacious and bright, there are several bedrooms, living spaces, and a massive kitchen. The master bedroom, however, is the most luxurious space she’s ever inhabited. All of this is second on her mind to what Mulder is currently doing to her.

Dropping her onto the high-top mattress with a slight bounce, Mulder pulls off his clothes first, discarding them on the floor at the end of the bed. Proceeding to rid her of her clothes, he stops and settles himself between her thighs so they are eye to eye.

“You make me feel more alive than ever before, Dana Scully.”

Before she can contemplate the consequences of her actions, she leans in and captures his lips. Only taken aback for a second, Mulder pushes into the kiss and mirrors her need. Kissing as though they’ve never been kissed before, or would be again, they devour each other's mouths equally. Tongues, lips, and teeth. Biting, sucking, and pulling. The need for air is a minor detail that they are willing to overlook. Scully is pretty sure that she could cum any second with how turned on she is. Rules and consequences be damned, she pulls his lower lip into her mouth, hoover-like, which elicits a moan from deep in Mulder’s throat.

Scully pauses, releasing him. Mulder takes the opportunity to speak, though it’s choppy due to his breathing. “I don't think I’ll last too long, Scully.” He presses kisses to her lips in between words. Now that they have kissed, he can’t stop.

“Make love to me, Mulder,” she whispers. He obliges.

#dana scully #fox mulder #the x files fanfic #x files #au fanfiction #msr fanfic #msr #rules were meant to be broken

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veryparynormal · 1 year ago

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The morning after the storm. (AJ Status 11/21/23)

(OOC NOTE: This is NOT a post AJ is making. He doesn't post everything he's doing or thinking, but I still want to share the the stuff that AJ does outside of Tumblr. Basically, this is like a "traditional" RP, where I talk about AJ in the third person, describing where he is, what he's feeling, etc. Feel free to join in if you'd like, but just note that it is NOT in the Tumblr post format I've been doing up until this point.)

AJ meandered through the woods aimlessly, after a long night of... meandering through the woods aimlessly. What else was he gonna do? He didn't really trust himself to talk to anyone, and for good reason, too. Last night he couldn't manage his anger properly, and he wound up in an argument with Max, Grace, and... Jesus, what was that other ghost's name? She was a complete stranger to him, but for some reason, she knew who he was. And she was so awful! What kind of grown-up picks a fight with... He reflexively clenched his fists before catching himself and relaxing again.

He decided that maybe he shouldn't keep walking around the woods like this. In a way he couldn't describe, somehow, the forest was making him feel worse. He flitted in and out of the physical realm in a way that might've looked like teleportation to the outside observer, but was really just him finding weird cosmic "shortcuts"-- a skill he had begun to hone recently-- to get to where he was going faster. Soon enough, he arrived at a tiny beach at the western edge of the island. It was a place he had known even while alive. It was so small and remote that most others hadn't found it, although he would find the occasional empty Capri-Sun or Subway wrapper on the ground, to his dismay. Still, it was his quiet spot, and he liked the solitude well enough.

AJ plopped down and sat cross-legged on the sand, feeling each grain rub against his fingers as he dragged them through. He'd been doing that sort of thing a lot in an effort to distract himself from feeling his left eye-- or, feeling the constantly bleeding socket where his left eye once was. It hurt like hell. To be fair, a lot of where his body hit the ground the hardest hurt, but nothing else quite compared to his lack of an eye. He picked his head up and used his one good eye to stare out at the water. A thick fog had rolled over Lake Michigan, on its way to the island AJ was so reluctant to call home. The water itself was... almost calm. Ripples ran through the lake, never quite getting big enough to count as waves, but still weirdly... tense. Come to think of it, the tide looked a bit low this morning. Some formerly-underwater snails, hiding in their shells, had even been exposed by it.

After just staring off into space for a moment, AJ pulled out his phone. He'd been blocking out the memory of exactly what had transpired yesterday night, but he knew it would only get worse if he didn't acknowledge it, although he was unsure of what "it" even was. He scrolled through the thread, not really reading much of the argument for fear of getting upset again. Soon, he found that a lot of the text in his messages turned red the longer the argument went on. He... didn't remember doing that. He looked up from his phone from a moment and shifted around to a different sitting position, a sense of unease washing over him. He kept scrolling, until one of the stranger's messages caught his eye.

"...and what was that you said earlier, encouraging barry swift to hurt someone unprovoked? take a good, long look at yourself."

AJ read it through a couple times, trying to register what she was saying here. It was as if his brain was actively refusing to process this information. This person... she was so fucking bitchy, but in this one, she... had a bit of a point. AJ had just impulsively sent that message, then tried to pass it off as a joke immediately afterward, both to Barry and to himself. Come to think of it, he'd been experiencing those kinds of impulses every once in a while ever since he died. He had tried to explain it away in his mind with various excuses. He was in pain. He was just joking. He didn't have a good emotional outlet. But recently, it had become more frequent. This wrath, this urge to hurt others. And after last night's outburst, it was more than just concerning.

It was starting to really, really scare him.

#hatchetblr #nmpd rp #hatchetfield #long post #unreality

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jack-shadow · 2 years ago

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Mega man Crossover Fanfic: Chapter 1

(my first mega man fanfic! I included a few drawings just to paint a picture of the scene. I said I was bad at art, not that I don't love it.

This was based on an idea I had randomly for a unique Crossover between all mega man series but chapters 1 & 2 will be almost entirely focused on classic. We will move on to X, Zero, and all the others soon. Without further ado, enjoy)

For Rock it was just a normal day at Dr. Light's laboratory,they were performing some much needed repairs on the repurposed robot master, Wood Man. "Rock, hand me the new weapon chip" Dr. Light asked his son.

"On it!" Rock said, handing a green chip to his father.

Dr.light slid the chip into a slot in Wood Man's body. "Alright, that should be good. how are you feeling?" Dr.light asked.

Wood Man hopped off the examination table, and stretched his arms. "Just fine" he Answered, "but do you have a cleaning station nearby? My leaf shield protected my armor well, but I still want to scrub these burn marks off".

"Right over there." Roll pointed over to a door, " there are some in there" she said.

"Before you go can you tell me how you got burned so badly" Dr. Light asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Oh right it's actually kinda weird. I found this cloaked robot and he asked who built me, and I answered Dr.wily. He just grinned and before I knew it there were two of him. He tried to attack me and I tried to block with my leaf shield. It didn't keep me from going unconscious but I at least didn't get too hurt." Wood Man spoke casually as if it wasn't that big of a deal.

Dr.light looked confused and worried, "there's a dangerous robot on the loose and you didn't think to tell me."

" Well he didn't hurt the forest and that's all I really care about." Wood Man said defensively.

"Sigh~ Well thanks for informing us now I guess" Dr.light groaned.

"You're welcome, and thanks again for repairing me, I'll just clean up and get back to work.” Wood Man went into the door that Roll pointed out earlier.

"Did Wily forget to program his robots with brains?" Roll said sarcastically.

"Roll, be nice. He's just very dedicated to his job." Rock protested.

Roll rolled her eyes"Just saying, if there's a dangerous robot on the loose informing us is kinda higher priority than getting a shower"

Dr. Light spoke up, "Given the description and how it split into two separate robots, I'm thinking-"

"Gemini Man?" Roll guessed correctly.

"Wily must have rebuilt him!" Rock said.

Roll thought about it, "But I didn't think Gemini Laser left burn marks like that, and if it really is Gemini man why would he have to ask if Wood Man was built by Wily?"

"Trust me, gemini laser can leave some pretty nasty marks," Rock said.

"And Gemini Man was built long after Wood Man" Dr. Light added

Roll thought about it, " I guess that makes sense but we shouldn't rule out the possibility of it being another robot.”

" Yeah, this whole thing is rather suspicious," Rock agreed.

" Well at least we know he's probably after Wily bots" Dr. Light said with a grin, "and nearby The forest Wood Man watches over is the weather station where Air Man now works"

Rock beamed, " That means we can Ambush him! And keep Air Man safe"

Dr. Light smiled at his son, "yup, just don't let your guard down. If Leaf shield didn't protect Wood Man, then that means Wily probably upgraded Gemini Man. Please be careful."

Rock looked up at his dad with a reassuring smile, "It's okay dad, I've got this. Plus I'll have Air Man as back up if I need it"

"Alright just be safe out there" Dr. Light gave his son a hug before activating the teleporter to send Rock to the Weather Station.

Upon arrival Rock had already been transformed into Mega Man, ready for action. He was about to go in and inform Air Man before he heard an all too familiar whistle in the wind behind him.Rock looked all over for the source of the sound before realizing it was coming from above as Proto Man jumped down from the top of the Weather station.

"Bro!" Rock shouted before jumping to give his brother a hug, it was clear that Blues (or Proto Man as he preferred to be called) was still not used to hugs. Rock realizing his brother's discomfort got off of him, " I assume you already heard."

" Yes, unfortunately Air Man is refusing to listen to me, he says he could take down any threat that comes his way. I tried to tell him that it took out Wood Man but he just kept talking about how superior he was."

Rock laughed, "Do you want to remind him he's weak to leaf shield, or should I ?” Proto Man didn't laugh, it was just awkward silence. "So what's the plan?" Rock asked, trying to break the silence.

"Simple, wait here and ambush Gemini Man, or whatever bot wily sends our way.”

Rock grinned, "Sounds like a plan!"

The two of them proceeded to wait there until well after dark. "For the last time Tempo's just a friend!" Proto Man shouted in annoyance.

"Hey I was just saying," Rock teased, putting up his hands to defend himself.

Suddenly they saw a dark figure dash into a nearby alley. Both of them immediately stopped joking around and drew their busters .Rock went in while Proto Man stayed behind , the alley eventually opened up into a more open space, Rock Walked around a bit trying to find whoever it was that jumped into the Alley. He was suddenly hit with a jolt of electricity hitting his back and knocking him to the floor. He was nearly knocked unconscious by the hit but could still hear the snapping of lighting. Rock reared his head around to see what hit him, it was clearly not Gemini Man.

It was a white robot with a golden arm constantly sparking with bolts of lightning. The design of the robot was like nothing he had ever seen before, it vaguely reminded him of Duo with the arm and the alien-like design but it was still strange.

"Rock tried to speak but the mass amounts of electricity were frying his voice box causing his words to be Glitchy.

"Watch your back," the unknown robot said, looking over at a robot that could have been his clone except for his armor being black instead of white. This one's expression was a twisted grin whereas the white carried a neutral expression.

" Thanks!" The black one said, looking at Mega Man's malfunctioning body, "HA! Is this the Mega Man of this world? And here I thought he couldn't get any more pathetic!"

Mega man turned his head, what were they talking about? His voice box was still malfunctioning but he eventually managed to ask, "w-wh0 aR3 Y-Y0u?"

The black one heard this and turned to his counterpart , "why didn't you kill him?!" He asked.

The white one kept its expression neutral, " It's a robot master, no threat, there wouldn't be a point."

The black one sighed at this, like he heard it a million times," Alright then I'll do it."

Just as he said that a shot of nuclear energy came from out of nowhere. The mysterious robots jumped out of the way and looked towards the alley to see who fired the shot. It was Proto Man who threw Mega Man an E-tank and continued to fight the bots. Mega Man drank the E-tank and stood up still hurt from the blast but he could at least stand.

Proto Man was losing despite how powerful he was. These two were just too fast and even the blasts that did hit seemed to have little effect.

Proto Man was taking multiple fatal lightning blasts and he fell to the floor. Rock couldn't tell if he was unconscious, just badly damaged, or even dead. No, he couldn't be dead, Proto Man was too powerful to be killed so easily.

The robots landed next to where Proto Man laid broken, the black one picked him up. " Red armor, Yellow scarf." They both looked over at the wall which was badly damaged from Proto Man’s shots, " and powerful, he might be of use, more than Wood Man anyway. I'll take him back for further study you stay here and see if you can grab anything else"

Mega man raised his buster, he wasn't sure what he could do to these... things, but he couldn't let them take his brother. The white one noticed he was up and glared menacingly at him before moving so fast he became a blur. Before he knew it, Mega Man was struck from behind with another lightning blast. Before he could even react White was grabbing him by the neck and slamming him into the ground.

" You go, I'll kill him," White said to his counterpart.

The black one grinned, “That's the spirit!” he said before opening a strange portal and entering it with Proto Man still in his grasp. As the portal closed Mega Man felt a sense of failure wash over him, Proto man was gone.

He looked over at the white Bot that was still pinning him to the ground, and he was going to die. The robot let loose bolts of electricity straight into Mega Man's body. He screamed in pain! If he didn't think of something soon he'd die and then Proto man would be gone forever. Mega Man switched his weapon to Bounce ball hoping the parts of his body that were now covered in rubber would help keep his vital circuits intact, it did seem to have some effect, but it still hurt.

Rock once again asked through tears, "wh0 ar3 y0u?"

The robot kept the same blank expression as if this was an everyday task for him, "Gemini Spark." he said simply. Gemini Spark continued to blast Mega Man with electricity suddenly a gust of powerful wind coming from behind Gemini Spark knocking him off Mega Man.

Mega Man looked and saw Air Man, " get out of here I'll handle this!" Air Man shouted. Mega Man nodded and ran out of the alley as Gemini Spark got back up for a fight. Mega man knew that there was no way Air Man would survive, and he felt bad leaving him behind, but he's in no condition to help his friend fight. He’d never felt so helpless, he could only hope that Air Man could be rebuilt later.

Mega Man stumbled his way back to the lab and collapsed just in the doorway. Dr. Light was startled from his worried pacing back and forth. “Rock!" he shouted, rushing to his son's beaten and broken body, "oh my goodness, what happened!"

Rock tried to speak but his voice box was still malfunctioning, so he could only cry.

Dr. Light got to repairing him and as soon as Rock could talk again he blurted out the words that were weighing on his mind "Blues is gone". When he managed to recompose himself he informed Dr. Light about everything. Dr. Light seemed to be even more worried than he was before, "Who could have built such a thing!" he thought out loud. "He's as fast as Quick Man and can control a larger amount of electricity than Elec Man."

"And he shares a name and ability with Gemini Man, " Roll added.

Dr. Light nodded, " I don't think Wily is capable of building something like this, or anyone I know for that matter," Dr. Light said, his words trailing off.

"Do you think that it's another Alien like the Star-droids or Duo," Rock asked. "Maybe, I don't like resorting to saying something's an alien when we don't know what it is but at this point I think it's the only possible explanation"

"Then we'll inform Duo and take him out together!" Rock shouted

"Actually Duo will have to take him out alone," Dr. Light said.

"Why" Dr. Light looked down, not daring to look his son in the eye. " You were nearly damaged beyond repair, and if Blues was defeated by this thing then you clearly aren't prepared to fight it."

"Then I'll just have to prepare, upgrade myself with new abilities and a rubber coating, find his weakness and exploit it!" Rock said triumphantly

" No rock, I'm not sending you back out there and I'm not further weaponizing you.”

"But dad-",

" Please, I already lost one son to this thing, I don't think I could take it if I lost you," he looked at his son with sad pleading eyes. Rock understood, he nodded and gave his dad a hug, he could tell this was a tough situation for him,too.

"I just want to save him," Rock said, tears streaming down his face.

" I know,” Dr. Light said.

(Alright folks hope you enjoyed, chapter 2 is in the work. Shout out to my awesome mom for both Beta reading and Editing)

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