#What’s Inside the Box of Mystery (Redacted)

[thatsbelievable]

[hsr-texts]

find your cinderella

꒰‧₊˚✩彡‧꒱ ┊ ━━━━ prologue

꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ streamer!reader x mystery hsr character ꒱

꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ otome event ꒱

꒰ ☰ WORD COUNT ┊1.4k ꒱

꒰ ☰ DESCRIPTION ┊ ━━ When you do an unboxing livestream for your subsribers, you find an invite to an exclusive event called the "Find Your Cinderella" masquerade gala where you are guaranteed to find your supposed true love, as a rather enthusiastic manager told you. ꒱

꒰ ☰ NOTES ┊HIII omg you guys THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!! Getting 1k followers is so crazy for me because I've never had a blog be received with this much love and support before so I've decided to make an extra special otome game style fanfic! ꒱

“Guys, look! The package just came in!”

You rushed into your studio, holding a sizable metal box. Inscribed on the sides was a logo of two masks, resembling a certain Aeon. Placing it down on the floor, you gave a sigh of relief. “Aeons, that was heavy!”

Your eyes glanced at the live chat and saw all the messages, curious about the package.

“Seems like you guys are more excited than I am,” You couldn’t help a small chuckle leaving your lips. “It took me quite a lot to get a hold of this limited edition package from LumiPro. Like, do you guys know how much it cost?”

A few comments popped up trying to guess the price.

You shook your head. “100,000 credits.”

The chat then flooded with shocked emotes and comments. It was more than a fair reaction. You found yourself silently thanking the stars that your current occupation as a streamer granted you a steady income. Otherwise, you probably would’ve had to eat the same type of cup noodles for months.

“Anyway!” You clasped your hands together. “Let’s open it up already! I’m dying to see what’s inside. What could possibly warrant such a steep price?”

Your index finger pressed on the button at the top and heard a voice.

“Vocal identification. Please state your name.”

You uttered your name. It was a good thing you added an auto-censor to your setup so that any sensitive information that could get you doxxed would be redacted in the stream. You didn’t want stalkers showing up at your home after all.

“Permission granted.”

Faint clicks of metal against metal could be heard as the mechanisms worked to unlock the box. A hissing noise came from it as the lid opened. You watched, feeling anticipation and eagerness bubble within your chest.

A hologram was projected from the box, showing a person wearing professional attire. They smiled.

“Thank you for purchasing from Luminous Productions. We’ve curated a package that we believe would be of most use to you. For further questions, you may contact support on our site. We hope you enjoy it to the fullest.”

You took a peek and gasped at the sight. “Guys, oh my god, they just gave me a new PC!”

They must’ve done their research because you did mention in your stream a month ago that you were looking for a better PC.

The chat seemed to be as excited as you were, knowing this meant you’d be able to go back to your regular streaming schedule.

You could tell this was a real high end PC after seeing the graphics card and CPU model. Not only that, but it came with a new headset, keyboard, and mouse. You took out the stuff and gently placed them on the floor, letting the viewers see it.

After noticing that there was more in the package, you rummaged around for the other objects. Your hand made contact with some sort of fabric so you pulled it out.

Your eyes widened as you realised that it was a fancy outfit. Upon looking, you could estimate that it was your size too. Was this tailor made?

“Holy shit…”

It seemed like it was for a real special occasion, not even just your run-of-the-mill party that regular people go to. This outfit would probably fit right in with a red carpet event for rich folks or celebrities. Well— One may say, “Hey, aren’t you a celebrity too?” but you weren’t cocky enough to claim the same status as those with inter-galactic levels of fame.

A slip of paper fell out of the outfit’s pocket and you turned to see what it was.

You squinted in confusion. A ticket…? After picking up, you couldn’t help but notice the holographic shine to it first. How pretty.

“Find Your Cinderella Masquerade Event?” You mumbled in confusion. Who was Sugo? You couldn’t recall knowing anyone that went by that name.

Suddenly, the screen flickered for a moment and a new window popped up next to your stream.

A person showed up, wearing what you could only describe as a pink clown outfit that somehow combines cuteness and gaudiness in one. They grinned at you with amusement.

“Heya to all those viewers watching at home!” Even the way they spoke seemed to have a theatrical ring to it. By the way the chat was going insane, the people watching the stream could also see them.

“My name is Sugo and I’m the event organiser of the Find Your Cinderella Gala, or the FYC Gala for short,” they introduced themselves with a flourish. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh… hi?” You didn’t know how to respond. This was quite a bizarre experience to have someone hijack your stream to introduce themselves. Was this legal…?

They chuckled. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden appearance but I figured that it would shake things up a little. I’m sure your dear fans appreciate having two exciting things happening at the same time. You can bet that this’ll go viral too~”

“Right… So what exactly is this Find Your Cinderella Gala?”

“Glad you asked, dear anomaly!” They beamed. Eh? Why were they calling you anomaly?

“See, I’m doing a collaborative project with LumiPro. I proposed to them a large-scale event with celebrities from all over the galaxy, which would be broadcast to every streaming platform out there. The premise is simple, all attendees are there to find their one and only, their true love, their Cinderella, you get the idea.”

“So it’s a speed dating event for rich people?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It sounded like a stupid idea. And yet, a part of you was intrigued.

“Right on the money! What a clever streamer, it’s no wonder you got such high compatibility ratings with the other attendees~”

“A what?”

Their eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, we didn’t just pick the celebrities at random. I bet you’re wondering why a small time streamer is getting an invite to such an exclusive event, right?” They tilted their head, leaning on their desk.

You nodded slowly. It was still a mystery to you why you’d be invited when there are far more famous people in the galaxy.

“Behind the scenes, we’ve been developing an advanced algorithm that can find your best match in a group. How it works is that we pick a participant, feed it available information on said participant, then it calculates how well the person would get along with those within the group,” they explained, “What’s interesting for your case is that your average compatibility score with the group is 90%. Most folks that got tested only came up with a 60% average compatibility rating.”

You raised an eyebrow at this in skepticism. “Don’t you think that’s just a bug or something?”

They shrugged. “It could be, but we’ve done several tests and it always came out the same. We were hoping to add you in to act as an outlier to our pool of data.”

“So I’m just a guinea pig for your weird little experiment?” You gave them an unamused look.

“It’s just to see if your results were really true or if it was just a mistake on the algorithm’s part.” They shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be a fun time for you regardless of my motives. A win win for all parties involved, don’t you just love that kind of thing?”

“I guess but doesn’t this come with strings attached?”

Sugo whined. “Ughhh, you’re gonna make this way less fun if you go in already knowing what you’re getting!”

“What kind of sane person would do something without knowing the full details?!”

A groan came from them. “Booo, that’s so boring! Life needs a special surprise factor that keeps things fun and interesting.”

They sighed after. “But fine. If you’re so skeptical, then I can throw in a 500,000 credit compensation if you end up not enjoying it. So even if you do lose, you still gain something!”

You stayed silent, trying to figure out if this was really worth the trouble of dressing up and going to a party.

“Anyway, that’s all the information I’m contractually allowed to give out. It’s your choice whether you want to go or not.”

“Can I have some time to decide this?” You asked them.

Sugo nodded, smiling in amusement. “Of course! It’s not good for a show to spend too much time on exposition, after all. Let’s give the player some time to shine, hm?”

“I have no idea what you’re saying.”

They giggled, ignoring what you said. “Bye bye! I’ll see you at the gala!”

Their window disappeared, leaving you with your viewers again.

You sighed. What a strange person. Did you really wanna go? It’s not like you had much to lose. Plus, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to find out what that compatibility rating was all about.

“What do you think, chat? Should I go?” You turned to the screen, waiting for their input.

[linka-from-captain-planet]

thinkin about how, as quartermaster, Nocturne would have been the one to outfit the Sharran infiltrators for the steal-the-artifact mission

and the roster of infiltrators is found in the armory, so it must have been meant FOR Nocturne because obviously she’d need to know who she’s outfitting/what kind of stuff they’d need

so like that elegant script making it clear that the infiltrators “remain utterly expendable”… must have been directed AT Nocturne

which makes sense on the surface because the cloister is a total dump, and the donations box doesn’t have a lot of money in it, and there’s barely any good loot. Of course they can’t afford to risk their limited resources on bodies that likely won’t come back

but Nocturne would surely know this… so… why the pointed and heavy handed reminder?

and also the other writings you can find around the cloister give a lot of background on Sharran faith… for example the one ominously declaring that Lady Shar knows what you hide, deep inside your spirit… or the one declaring that love is the cruelest of all the lies told by Lady Shar’s foes…

or Nocturne’s mysteriously, heavily redacted diary… that only seems to have 3 topics left intact: her transition (and Shadowheart’s support), her commitment to helping Shadowheart navigate her un-favoritism from the Mother Superior, and how sick with worry she is over Shadowheart… as if to ensure that Nocturne, even if she stands before the mirror, never forgets how much Shadowheart means to her…

even if it’s a violation of Lady Shar’s teachings, and perhaps a transgression that she needs to be reminded of and punished for over and over…

almost like some kind of, say, a shock collar that she can never remove, that’s used to harm her and force her compliance whenever she strays from the darkness…

[serotoninnow]

Dear Alex (4),

While I appreciate your voracity in your work, you really should not be censoring all the names. We have had multiple files reported for being sent to a “John Doe.” You and I both know that your level of redaction is over the top and unnecessary. I’d ought to fire you, but we need the staff, so you’re safe for now. However, do not think this renders you immune to consequence. Take this as a warning to slow down, or else.

Besides that, I do have a file for you to look over. Be careful not to redact too much this time. It should be a bit of a challenge though.

Best of luck,

James

Autopsy report

Office of [Redacted] in [Redacted]

Decedent: Jane Earl Doe

Race: [Redacted]

Sex: F

Age: 48

Home Address: Unknown

Occupation: Unknown

Type of death: Mysterious, Unusual, or Unnatural

Notes: I'm not sure who or what did this, but this isn't like anything I've seen before

Marks and wounds: Multiple (13) exit wounds with no signs of entry wounds. Exit wounds resemble that of an animal attack, though it has too many claw marks per scratch (7). Furthermore, the lack of entry wounds implies the attack occurred from inside the patient. If this is the case, then the creature should not have been able to escape, as there are no exit points large enough for a creature of this size to escape. See interview with patient's husband for more information.

Probable cause of death: Animal attack

Manner of death: Unknown

Interview with John Doe

Q: When was the last time you saw your wife?

A: We'd had a pretty nasty argument over some financial stuff I'd prefer not to go into. She had left months ago though, and I've had no idea where she went. I filed a police report, but nothing came of it until now.

Q: Could you provide a date?

A: Yes, sorry. I just miss her so much and haven't had anyone to talk to in a long while. We had our fight on [Redacted], and she left the day after

Q: Did your wife take anything with her when she left?

A: Yes, actually. It was really odd. The only thing she brought was a small box, not even big enough to hold a shirt.

Q: Do you know what was in the box?

A: I haven't a clue. She was so protective of it, never would tell me what was inside. I swear there was something alive in there though. I am certain that whenever thunder struck, the box would very lightly squeak. Not like an animal though, like a door hinge. Whenever I brought it up though, she'd change the subject and act like I was going crazy. I almost believed her too.

Q: That should be all. Any questions for me?

A: No, I don't think so. I'll call if I think of any

Author's note: Now I've got my notes, a bit of time, and some hopes and prayers. This took me way too long, but I'm actually kinda proud

[narrated]

just realised a significant portion of mutuals have never met lukas so the Most Basic of rundowns

was brought up in a research facility under project nascence, a study of children demonstrating anomalous properties by the mysterious kron institute and funded by [REDACTED].

lukas was the thirteenth child, officially codenamed the bloodletter. they are able to manipulate blood, both inside and outside a body.

one of the major wildcards both due to their powers and their tendency towards depersonalization. eventually taken out of combat training after a near miss and instead put on “support” aka subduing any of the other kids if they tried to escape or otherwise try anything.

project nascence went bust when lukas was 19, conveniently right before someone figured out exactly what the purpose of the subjects was going to be. sure hope that doesn’t come up later. all the kids were put into witness protection and sent out into the world under very strict instruction never to use their powers.

lukas runs away from their foster family in maine after a few months and ends up in new york, stumbling into being a baker. they present as someone with anemia (a symptom of their powers) and hide the wounds on their arms with medical bandages near constantly. supposedly they are from a car accident.

now it would be a shame if one of the project leads mysteriously died around the time lukas got a box in the mail with a bunch of the old files wouldnt it………

also they are 6’5 :)

[dimensionalspades]

. If you asked Julian what put him in this situation, he'd readily tell you he had absolutely no clue just which part of this mission had gone so awry. Communications breaking down? The mysterious theft of a priceless artifact? The Queen's untimely demise? The person (he had yet to actually identify who they were) that had seemed to appear from nowhere?

. When they'd both scrambled into the tall blue box, Julian figured it was going to be a very cramped way to die, but they seemed so confident and it was either a leap of faith or die immediately. However, the interior was its own massive size. Julian almost entirely forgot why they'd been running in the first place, out of breath from both exertion and trying to wrap his mind around it. Like a holosuite, but... mobile?

. "Well, it's quite a bit bigger on the inside, isn't it?"

@realmyths for the Redacted Doctor!

[aifastic]

Interview With The Spy

Hello everyone! I gladly present you with my piece for INTRUDER ALERT!: A TF2 Spy Zine. We’re having leftover sales until DECEMBER 19th (12/19/22) at 12:00 PM PST, in case you’re interested in acquiring some items!

Link to the store here: https://tf2spyzine.bigcartel.com/

I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed witing it! Thank you @tf2spyzine for the opportunity ♥

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: T Characters: RED Spy, OC’s, RED Team Summary: Lana Hopkins has been looking forward to this interview for ages. Devlin is just scared. The team is nowhere to be seen. And Spy is... Spy.

Interview With The Spy

"Aren't you nervous?" the photographer asked, anxiously looking to the sides and fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. "I mean, he's a murderer. They all are. Oh, dear." He looked like he might faint.

"That's the fun of it!" Lana Hopkins said, barely containing her excitement.

She'd been looking forward to this for ages–after years of wasting all her redaction skills on the horoscope, Hat Wearing Mann had finally given her the opportunity to shine with the interview of her life. At last, she'd be able to delve into the mind of one of the most elusive men in the country, maybe even the world!

Many had tried to learn more from the Teufort Nine, only to disappear after the attempt. But she'd make sure to prevail this time, and get the note that would make her career skyrocket. She would.

The Spy had been previously described as "a puzzle, wrapped in an enigma, shrouded in riddles, lovingly sprinkled with intrigue, express mailed to Mystery, Alaska," and she couldn't help but agree–there were no legal documents to prove the existence of that man. He was a rumor, a deadly one at that, and he made sure not to leave any traces behind, be it of his professional conquests or his romantic ones. His lovers had him in high esteem; his enemies feared him. And that was the extent of the knowledge she had earned from her research.

"Hey!" The photographer waved a hand in front of her eyes, awakening her from her thoughts. "Are you… okay?" He sounded worried, but more so for her mental stability than anything else.

"I'm fine, uh… Dolan." She waved him off.

"I'm Dylan," he said, exhausted. She mentally brushed it off. She didn't have time nor space in her mind to devote it to remembering useless information like the photographer's name.

"Anyways," she said, and promptly started to walk away from the rental car they'd used to get there, heading to the RED base. "Let's get moving!"

-----

The base, anticlimactically enough, seemed empty that day.

"Where are all the mercenaries? I thought we'd get to see them in action!"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, my dear," said a voice behind her. She gasped and turned back. The Spy was standing behind them, a cigarette in hand and a smug smirk on his face. When did he–?

"Holy fuck!" Donald yelled, almost dropping the camera.

"Careful!" Lana hissed, and turned to look at their host with what she hoped was her most selling smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir!"

"The pleasure is all mine, mademoiselle." Spy grasped her hand delicately and brought it to his lips.

"Where's…everyone?" asked Devin, a twinge of awkwardness in his voice.

Spy looked visibly annoyed for a moment, but he quickly put on a polite smile. "They are currently busy, running some errands." He waved their concern away with a gesture of his hand. "Now, may we head off to my smoking room?"

He led them through a couple rooms–Lana took the opportunity to read every label, examine every piece of furniture for hints of how these men lived.

"Excuse me," she asked, pointing to a closed door that read: 'TRAINING ROOM.' "What's that?"

"It's where we carry out our physical training for battle." A crash was heard inside.

"Wh–who's in there?"

"No one, monsieur, it's just…Some boxes might have fallen off. It happens often enough." Lana thought she heard him mutter: "...Supposed to be soundproof…" But before she could comment on that, he pointed at a door with a flourish. "We are here."

Lana entered the room, taking the room in. It was…Surprisingly bare. There was little furniture besides a fireplace, several framed paintings and double lamps hanging from the walls that gave a soft lighting to the place. There was a bookshelf filled to the top with books whose titles were in a language she assumed to be French; a coffee table with a wooden globe and a half-finished whisky glass on it; and next to it, a red armchair. The only two things that looked out of place, however, were the twin wooden chairs placed in front of the armchair.

"My apologies," said Spy, courteous as ever. "I do not own more armchairs than this one, so the kitchen chairs should suffice."

"It's totally fine, don't worry!" said Lana absently while she stared at a painting of a group of dogs arm-wrestling over a poker table.

"Oh, yes, that one is an authentic Kickasso," Spy said proudly. "No photographs, please, they might ruin the canvas."

The painting wasn't what caught her attention, however: there was a piece of paper attached to the frame with a metal pin with what looked like…a pink unicorn…drawn on it. Did Spy have kids? That could catch the attention of a particular demographic–which she might or not belong to.

"Ahem," Damian cleared his throat with purpose.

"Oh, yes! Let us start. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

-----

"So, first of all I can't believe I've got the pleasure to do this interview. Are you aware of how hard you are to find?"

Spy let out a chuckle. "Yes, and I hope it stays that way. My job requires me to be unreachable, in a way. Though by what means this is achieved, well…That, I can't reveal." He winked.

"Right, professional secret. Alright, um, what can you tell us about yourself that won't get you in trouble?"

"There's not much, really, but there are a few things–otherwise, this interview would be pointless." Lana's grip on her pen tightened. "I was born in France, and espionage has always been a part of my life, in a way. I pride myself in having mastered the art of disguise and the lethal ways of the knife–although other weapons have aided my job, too."

Lana felt frustrated, but decided to press more later on. "About that…What can you tell us about your job? Your current one, I mean. Reliable Excavation Demolition is shrouded in mystery, and there's much speculation about what the Gravel Wars entail."

"Well, it is a complicated matter. Let us say we stare death in the face every day, and the reward for it will never be enough. But there is a good opportunity to grow as a professional here. I believe in that, and that's what keeps me on my feet every day."

"I see."

She stopped jotting down just to think of her next question while Duncan took some photos of Spy. She needed to ask more about his fashion opinions, according to her job, but her curiosity was winning–it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Should she press on more personal details or–?

There was a loud crash outside, and a cluster of footsteps could be heard approaching the room. Spy suddenly stood up, dropping the whisky glass he was posing with on the coffee table. "Oh, no."

"What's happening?" Lana asked, standing up.

"I don't–"

The door slammed open against the wall, and a guy wearing a helmet led a group of seven very angry, red-clad men.

"TRAITOR!"

"Who–" Lana turned to look quizzically at Spy, only to find his chair empty. She looked around–Spy had disappeared in thin air!

"Typical," said a tall man wearing a crooked hat–is that the Sniper? "He puffed away."

"No way! Spy, if you're still there, you can't lock us up for no reason–Wait." The young guy stopped, blinking at Lana and Devon in surprise. "Who the hell are you?"

"We are reporters!" Lana said, ignoring her workmate's desperate hand signals. "We are here to interview Spy–"

"The Ma'am has a No Reporters policy, I'm afraid," a short guy with a heavy Texan accent replied. "I dunno how Spy managed to let you in."

'Ma'am'?

"Great. Our interviewee disappeared and now we're gonna get killed," Devon whined, and Lana elbowed him.

"Not necessarily. Hey, we aren't going to get y'all in trouble. We just need a couple tips about Spy…Maybe a little gossip?"

"Oh, boy, do we have gossip!" Everyone exchanged glances and grinned.

-----

"Come on, Spy, it's a little bit funny. You thought it was Dapper Cadaver."

"You told them I snore?!"

"It's true, though," Sniper said, hitting him on the head with his own rolled copy of the magazine–which Lana had sent them all in thanks.

"That's what you get for locking us up in the goddamn training room. Do you know how long Soldier made us train there?"

"We couldn't afford to waste time!"

"I will kill you all. But especially the one who thought giving them the spycrab photo was a good idea."

"That was me," Heavy said, casually cracking his neck.

"Never mind." Spy deflated against the couch like a fragile Victorian child.

-----

"The boss loved the interview, Dustin!"

"It's Dylan," he replied almost reflexively. "And I'm just glad to have come out alive, to be honest."

"Don't be such a party pooper!" Lana reproached him. "I'm happy that we could unveil a more human side of him."

"I guess me too," he said with a smile.

[harlot-of-oblivion]

The Devil’s In The Details

All work and no play makes Dante a dull devil. But he soon finds a cure for his boredom when a smokin' hot detective comes a-knockin' on his door.

The title and overall feel of this chapter is inspired by the song "A Girl Like You" by Edwyn Collins.

Chapter 3: Never Met A Girl Like You

You look up Dante’s profile as soon as you get back to your desk. The Lieutenant was not exaggerating that this man’s file is incredibly long; it almost reads like a fictional novel filled with colorful characters and bloody descriptions. Unfortunately, all these reports are real and if any of what you read is remotely true, then you really have your work cut out for you this time.

It all starts with the infamous demon attack on Sparda Manor, which is common knowledge to most locals nowadays. The only body found in the rubble of their burnt down home was Eva Sparda, the matriarch of the family, and the rest of the family was pronounced dead soon after the incident. You narrow your eyes at that little detail…it’s rather strange that they just jumped to that conclusion even though there isn’t enough sufficient evidence to back up the claim.

The next notable part of the profile is all about the escapades of Tony Redgrave. You resist the urge to facepalm yourself while reading about all the events that occurred under his on the nose alias. It all seems to be standard fare on par with mercenary work, so you skip ahead a little until hitting another infamous incident involving some crazy ass tower…a lot of information about what happened has been redacted except that the Son of Sparda was definitely involved as well as an associate only known as Lady.

You read ahead again and raise an eyebrow at the strange report about a beautiful woman smashing through his shop while riding a motorcycle. This mysterious woman is later confirmed to be another associate known as Trish. Then it seems he left to do some outside work, so there isn’t much details except for a few witness statements here and there. The most noteworthy detail is the sudden appearance of a young man bearing a striking resemblance to the white-haired mercenary known as Nero.

A memory flashes before your mind at the name. You’ve seen this young man before; it was during the Red Grave incident involving the demon tree. You did not get the chance to speak with him…all you can remember is nodding to a young man with short white while leading a group of citizens caught in the demonic fray to safety. And speaking of that debacle, you skim through the reports about Dante’s role in that devastating event, which again seems to be scarce except that he was definitely hired to take care of whatever or whoever planted that freaky ass tree.

From what you can glean from the extensive damage reports, complaints about disturbing the peace, and the high rate of death and destruction…it paints Dante as a womanizing playboy who shows no concern for the wellbeing of others, which makes him a highly dangerous individual. Your fingers tap on your desk as you carefully sift through the information you have just gathered, noting that some of the reports have a healthy dose of prejudice attached to them. A good detective knows that preconceptions should never be taken at face value when searching for the truth. So, perhaps he’s more of a flirty troublemaker with a pension for hunting demons, which has earned him quite the reputation among mercenaries and police alike. You lean back in your chair and mentally weigh the risks of seeking out this infamous devil hunter in hopes of ridding the city of another demonic threat.

The soft chiming of your phone breaks you away from your deep contemplation. You pull it out your pocket and shuffle through a series of texts from Carmen. A couple of them are pictures of the victim’s garage, specifically a set of golf clubs found in the corner. She goes on to explain that this could be the murder weapon, but she will have to run some tests to confirm her suspicions. You take out your sketchbook and update the depiction of the crime scene with a drawing of a golf club with a question mark beside it. The other texts inform you about the safe key and missing dog. Carmen didn’t find any kind of safe or lock box that goes with the key, so she’s just adding it with the rest of evidence for further investigation. And there is still no sign of the family dog either.

No surprise there, you thought while texting her back about your heated argument with the Lieutenant and your plan of seeking outside assistance from a demon hunter. You also let her know that Graves is fine, just shaken up from the missing body that could very well be the zombie bride she gushed about earlier. While waiting for her response, you check your email for the record of medical examiners that Graves sent, and you file a report about the missing body from the morgue.  

After completing those tasks, you decide to grab a quick breakfast and do some more investigating before setting out to find the Legendary Devil Hunter. You collect your sketchbook and grab another cup of coffee on the way out, gulping it all down in a few long sips while you walk through the station. Your phone chimes multiple times as you approach the exit, but you withhold from checking it as you slip past a slew of reporters standing outside the station. All of them are none the wiser as you gear up for a long ride before hopping on your motorcycle.

You rev the engine a couple of times before zooming out of the parking lot with a loud roar, hoping that you can make it to Devil May Cry before closing time.  

(A few hours later…)

Another day spent doing absolutely nothing, Dante thought drolly as he rereads yet another dirty magazine while rock music blares from the jukebox.

It’s late afternoon and there is still no sign of Morrison. The phone rang a few times, but none of the callers gave a password. Dante knew that business has been slow recently, but he’s going to die of sheer boredom at this rate! He leans back in his chair and props his feet up on his desk, not really ogling the half-naked ladies in the magazine as his mind wanders through less vulgar musings.

Dante’s life has taken one hell of a U-turn for the better ever since getting back from hell with his brother in tow and having a very awkward but needed conversation with Nero. Just the fact that he even has a nephew still makes him shake his head in wonder, and having Vergil back to being his old cranky self…it all seems too good to be true. But a few pinches every now and then, as well as some stabs from his dear brother, knocks some sense back into him and erases all doubt from his mind.

Dante has never felt more alive now that he has finally found his family. And it would truly be a shame if this tedious dry spell takes him out before he gets the chance to really enjoy it. Morrison better bring the cure to my boredom before I find it myself, he thought, absentmindedly turning a page while letting out a huge yawn.  

A loud knocking echoes throughout the shop. Dante glances up from his magazine towards the entrance. Huh…that’s not Morrison, he surmises as more knocking bangs on the door. “It’s open!” he announces, not one to turn down a potential client coming to him directly. He tosses aside the dirty magazine as the door swings open to reveal an attractive woman entering the shop.    

Dante’s brow quirks in curiosity as you look around with mild interest. “Well, well…what’s a pretty lady like you doing here?” he asks nonchalantly while his keen eyes roam up and down your form, already spotting the concealed gun holstered inside your riding jacket.  

“I’m looking for the owner of this shop,” you inform in a calm and even voice while slowly approaching the landing area of his office. “Is that you?”

Dante smirks mischievously. “That depends on who’s asking, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe.”

Your stern voice startles him for a moment as you step up to the landing and pause by the edge of the carpet under his desk. You’re close enough now for him to get a better look at you; confident stance, sharp eyes, and a stoic face that could rival his brother’s stony expression. And yet it still captures his full attention despite your cold reception of his playful retort.  

“The name’s Dante,” he introduces himself as your head swivels around, taking in every detail of his office as you walk around his desk. “And if you’re looking for the bathroom…it’s in the back.” Dante motions with his head as you get closer to the couch, which gives him an opportunity to check you out from behind. His eyes linger up your slender legs and the curve of your ass…but then he does a bit of a double take when he notices a knife hidden in one of your boots.  

“Legendary Devil Hunter, Son of Sparda…and the embodiment of sloth apparently,” you muse aloud, stoic shell cracking a little as your lips curl into a grimace while examining the copious piles of trash strewn all over the floor.

Dante crosses his arms with a shrug. “I see my reputation still precedes me,” he quips back cheekily as your gaze turns towards the small bar in the corner.

“Please tell me that hasn’t just been hanging there rotting since the Red Grave incident,” you mutter in disbelief while pointing at the Empusa nailed to the wall with numerous swords and one small dart.

“What does a babe like you know about Red Grave?” he inquires casually while his eyes narrow suspiciously.  

A subtle spark of anger lights up your eyes. “Stop calling me babe.”

Dante slides his feet to the floor before leaning over on his desk. “How about you give me the pleasure of your name and maybe I’ll call ya by something more your style,” he offers with a wink, hoping to rekindle that spark of yours with his flirty banter.

Your smoldering eyes squint hard at him for a moment, the fierce spark now glittering as you reach inside your riding jacket. “Detective Y/N of the Red Grave City P.D.” You take out your badge and flip it open to show him your photo I.D. as you move close to his desk. “And if you call me anything but Detective…I’ll show you why some of the boys down at the station call me Ice Bitch,” you warn with a low growl filled with simmering anger.  

“Ice Bitch, huh?” Dante repeats while giving the badge a quick glance so that he doesn’t miss the show when the sparks start flying. “I dunno…you sound pretty fiery to me.”

Dante watches with fascination as your eyes burst with searing heat, but your entire face remains completely composed. It’s not exactly the kind of show he was hoping for, but there is still time to figure out what really lights your fire so long as you are here. There’s just something about you that begs him to stoke the flames flickering in your eyes…maybe it’s the way you carry yourself with utmost confidence around the shop despite the infamy around his name and reputation. Or it could be that fiery spirit hidden beneath your frosty exterior…all he knows for certain is this:

He’s gotta have more.

“So, what does the fuzz down at Red Grave want with a guy like me?” he asks, relaxing back into his chair with an amused grin, detecting another knife hidden up your sleeve as you put away your badge. “Wait, wait…lemme guess: you’re here to arrest me for being too damn good lookin’,” he jests, arching his brow while stroking his chin in a dashing manner.

“Last time I checked, it wasn’t illegal to have a scruffy beard and unkempt hair,” you retort smoothly while straightening out your jacket. “I’m here to request any insights you have about demons.”

“Well, you definitely came to the right place,” he boasts, dramatically waving his hands around the shop before tilting his head inquisitively. “Is this for a case?”

You raise a well-trimmed brow in surprise. “You catch on quickly…yes, it’s for a case,” you confirm, resting one hand on your hip while the other hangs down by yet another knife in your pants pocket. “We need to determine if demons are involved in a series of disappearances and murders.” You pause for a moment, blinking your eyes once as you tilt your head in thought. “There’s also the possibility of a Devil Arm being involved as well. And if either of those are true…” You trail off with a weary sigh before finishing your explanation. “Maybe we can team up and work on this case together.”

Dante kicks one foot up to rest atop his knee. “It sounds like you already know a lot more than your average cop,” he notes while his brow twitches with interest at your proposal.  

“When you live in a place like Red Grave, you learn to pick up on a few things…” The spark in your eyes dims down while a haunted look flashes across your impassive face. “Never know when it might save your life,” you quickly explain, crossing your arms as your expression hardens, but the dull ember of your eyes glimmer softly.

Now that’s a look I know very well, Dante admits silently, having seen the very definition of anguish staring back at him in the mirror for years. “Alright, you wanna know more about demons…why come to me? I know for a fact that there are plenty of mercenaries in your area,” he points out with an exaggerated twirl of his finger.

“Because you’re the best of the best, Mr. Dante.”

This isn’t the first time that Dante has heard those exact same words. His usual response is to just laugh it off and comment about hearing it all before…but this time it’s different. The absolute certainty evident in your voice sends a chill down his spine. And the spark in your eyes is roaring with the flame of total conviction as you seemingly stare straight into his devilish soul.

“Hmm…you sure are painting a pretty interesting picture,” he imparts, fidgeting a little under your intense gaze, which makes him wonder if you’ve noticed just how tight his pants have gotten while talking with you. Not that he minds…but it seems you are more interested in business than pleasure right now. So, he brushes that notion aside and scoots his chair closer so that his arms can rest on the desk. “Look…I’m really flattered and all, but you’ve overlooked one minor detail: mercenaries and cops aren’t really known for working together.”

Dante flashes you with a toothy grin, hoping the reluctant act he’s putting on will illicit another feisty show. “Oh, I didn’t overlook it,” you reveal, quickly snuffing out his attempt at lighting the fuse with a shake of your head. “I just don’t give a damn.”

“Really?” He leans in closer over his desk as he pokes that wild temper of yours from another angle. “Didn’t know it was okay for you to break the law whenever you want and openly carry that gun just because of some fancy badge,” he provokes with a challenging smile.

Your stoic face contorts into furious scowl as the spark in your eyes ignites in searing rage. You quickly close the distance between both of you and slam your hands down on his desk, proving that he skipped lighting the fuse and just kicked the entire damn barrel into the fire! But it doesn’t bother Dante one bit as you lean in real close to his face over the desk, inflamed gaze boring into him while you launch into an explosive tirade.  

“Now you listen here! I took an oath to protect and serve, and that’s exactly why I’m here now! I did not work my ass off for this badge just to waltz around with this gun! And I have no intentions of abusing that sacred trust the citizens of Red Grave have put in me!”

You pause to take a couple of deep breaths before continuing in a calmer but still irate tone. “Your expertise and experience with demons may lead to the break in case we need…and it’s what I need to uphold that oath.” The harsh scowl on your face softens as the rage in your eyes dies down to a flickering flame of hope. “I need your help, Mr. Dante…I can’t crack this case wide open and finally bring this insidious killer to justice for the families and friends of their victims without you.”

Dante stares at you in awe as your impassioned speech buzzes around him like a temperamental honeybee. He couldn’t help but to watch your lips as you unleash your fury upon him…wondering if your kiss would be just as passionate as your volatile rage. And you are so close now, waiting for his response as you loom over his desk like an unmoving statue. But your intoxicating scent ensnares his senses while an all too familiar presence awakens inside him. His heart beats faster as blood rushes straight down his groin, forcing him to subtly readjust himself under the desk while the devil within purrs beneath his skin.

The door behind you suddenly swings open before he can come up with some clever one liner about enjoying the show. Morrison strolls on in and effectively pulls both of you out of the intense moment as he starts talking. “Hey Dante! Word on the street is that a detective from Red Grave City has been snooping around and…Oh!” He stops in his tracks when he finally notices you. “Looks like you’ve arrived before the rumors, Detective,” he notes smoothly while lighting up a cigar.

“I’m a firm believer of getting the whole picture before putting my pencil to paper, Mr. Morrison,” you divulge coolly without tearing your fierce gaze away from Dante’s stunned face. The corners of your mouth twitch into a fleeting smirk as you straighten up your posture while backing up from his desk. “I’ll be in the city for a couple more hours. You can find me at the Simmer Down Diner if you change your mind…and if you don’t come around, I’ll just assume that your answer is no.”

You turn and step down the landing before walking past Morrison towards the entryway. Dante’s eyes follow your every move, hypnotized by your swaying hips and confident stride as you reach for the door. “But make no mistake, Mr. Dante,” you murmur, grasping the handle as you turn to look over your shoulder. “There’s a serial killer on the loose and I intend to catch them with or without your help.” Your eyes sparkle with determination with those final words as you open the door and exit the shop.

“Did I hear her right?” Morrison questions, puffing on his cigar as he walks across the shop towards the couch. “She wants your help catching a serial killer?”

Dante keeps his eyes on the door as he nods. “Yep. Seems so.”

“Huh…that’s something you don’t see every day.” Morrison takes a seat on the couch and flicks his cigar over a nearby ashtray. “What’d she offer you in return?”

“We didn’t get that far when you busted on through the front doors.”

Morrison puffs on his cigar in quiet contemplation for a moment before cracking a knowing smile. “You’re thinkin’ about following after her, aren’t ya?”

Dante finally turns away from the door towards his dear friend. “What makes you say that?” he inquires, casually leaning back in his chair while Morrison shakes his head with a soft chuckle.

“You never could resist a beautiful lady asking for help. Even when all they brought was trouble…you still hear them out and almost always take whatever bait they dangle in front of ya.”

Dante shrugs at his friend’s logic while pondering about possibilities of working with a detective. On one hand, he’d have to play nice with the police and not break too many laws if he agrees to help you. But on the other hand, he gets to hang out with a smokin’ hot detective with one helluva temper. And if he takes up your offer…his heart throbs while the devil in him purrs at the thought of reigniting the flame in your eyes and seeing more of this sizzling chemistry between the two of you.

“You know me too well, Morrison,” he discloses with a puckish grin. “I’ll let ya know if I take the bait this time.”  

Morrison waves his cigar in the air as if to say told ya so as he gets out of his chair with a small flourish. He recalls the restaurant you mentioned as he steps out the shop, knowing it to be one of many greasy spoons in this area of the city. His hands are practically shaking with anticipation as he summons Cavaliere while a blur of different emotions swirl around in his head. If you can get this kind of reaction out of him already, then he’s gotta see where this may lead because honestly…he’s never met a girl like you before.

And now that he’s had a taste…he wants so much more.

Read Chapter 4

My Ao3

My Masterlist if you want more 💖

Tagging: @bettybattaglia @drusoona and @exsultry

[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 7 of Possible-y Utah

Chapter 7 - The Mission-Trip 1

(2 days later. June 4, 2006, 2pm)

The Kimmunicator beeped the familiar four-ring tone on Kim's dresser as she was trying to get ready to go to the mall to see a movie with Ron and Monique that night. Kim was wearing a striped croptop shirt, stud earrings, a gold chain necklace, a silver locket pendant Ron gave her, and her famed Club Banana dark-denim baggy cargo overalls with the left strap hooked and right strap undone and sneakers.

She grabbed the Kimmunicator from the dresser and pressed the button as Wade came on-screen.

"Hey, Wade! What's the sitch?" Kim asked in her famed phrase.

"Hey, Kim. You got a hit on the site from Buckley Air Force Base in Colorado. The lead general of the base is on the line." Wade replied, typing away on his computer.

"Put him on-screen." she insisted.

Wade pressed a button as General Hux, a two-star general, came up.

"Miss Possible, I am glad that my superiors suggested your services." Hux replied. "We have a couple of gentlemen that hold something really important and valuable from a secret lab in Montana."

"What's the big about it?" Kim asked.

Hux tugged at his collar, "With all due respect, I'd rather not talk about it over public communications, Miss Possible. There is a reason why this is considered top secret."

"We will talk more about it in-person in 1600 hours, or 4pm to you civilians." the general continued.

"I will see you then, General!" Kim replied before tapping back to Wade.

"Looks like we're needed for our first mission of the summer." she said. "Movie night will have to be postponed to next weekend. I'll get Ron!"

"When you get closer to the base, I'll provide you with more info, Kim!" Wade insisted.

"Did I ever tell you that you rock, Wade!" Kim laughed.

(15 minutes later)

"Awww...snickerdoodles." Ron complained. Both Kim and Ron were at the Stoppable house and the both of them were in their mission outfits.

"Sorry, Ron. I know you wanted to badly see Bricks of Fury V: The Brickening for this weekend..." Kim began.

"And Rufus was all ready too!" Ron added.

Rufus got out a director's chair and sat onto Ron's shoulder. He grabbed a bullhorn and squeaked 'Action'!

"But our mission work comes first." Kim replied, pointing out on what mattered the most.

"You're right, KP. I just love you so much when we save the world together!" Ron gave his heart-felt reply.

"Aww...thanks, Ron!" Kim replied sweetly before a troop transport pulled up in the driveway.

"I take it that is going to be our ride." Ron guessed.

"Mmm-hmm. Now let's get in and see what the sitch is all about!" Kim insisted as she, Ron and Rufus went inside the transport.

(75 more minutes later)

Kim and Ron were with 20 other troops there heading towards the base.

"Can you help me here?" Ron whined, squeezed inbetween two of the troops. "I can't feel my legs..."

Sargent Jones was the commanding officer of the transport.

"Thanks for the lift, Sargent Jones." Kim replied as she traditionally did on all her rides to missions.

"Are you kidding, Miss Possible?" Jones replied, "It's the least I can do after you helped us lead on that rescue mission to save one of my troops."

"Oh that mission where we had an blizzard in a landside was so no big!" Kim grinned.

"We should be coming on the base very shortly, Miss Possible." Jones said, "I already gave the base security officer the request of security clearance for both you and...uhh...what's-his-face...to give access to the facility."

"Uh...the name's Stoppable...Ron Stoppable..." Ron insisted. "I'm the heroic sidekick slash distraction here!"

"Yeah...him." Jones replied. "Anyways, the BSO just replied. The two of you have been given clearance. General Hux should meet with you shortly, along with the scientists with the 'classified object'!"

"Understood, Sargent." Kim said.

(20 more minutes later)

Once the transport gained access to the base, it came to a complete stop at the front.

General Hux came to Kim and shook his hand.

"I am glad that you came on such short notice, Miss Possible." Hux said, "My soldiers have recommended your services for this mission."

"If there's anything that I can do, General Hux, just call me and beep me!" Kim insisted. "Where are the scientists?"

"They are at the other side of the base. Why not you and your partner step in a Humvee and we'll take you to them." Hux said, pointing to the intended Humvee that they were going in.

"Come on, Ron. Let's get inside!" Kim inclined.

"Right with ya, KP!" Ron said as he and Rufus entered into the vehicle.

(2:15pm)

"And there we go!" James exclaimed, "Everything is ready!" He then heard his cell phone ring.

James picked it up.

"Hello? Possible residence! Oh hey, Ann, my sweet honey bear! How are things at the hospital?"

"Good! Good! I have just finished the final preparations! No, I haven't told Kimmie-cub or Ronald yet. She says that she has to go on some mission. OK, I'll tell her when they both come back to the house! Okay, dear, bye!"

While the Humvee took Team Possible to the other end of the base, they took this opportune time to discuss something that was on Kim's mind.

"KP, do you think that Rebecca really is on the squad?" Ron asked, "Because I didn't like the way she treated Monique and Tara at the party a few days ago."

"No, Ron. According to the Mad Dog Cheer rulebook, Rebecca is only a prospective member on the squad. She has to go through tryouts in July first before she could join." Kim explained the procedure. "And besides, if she does that stuff, she will not be welcomed onto my squad."

Hux escorted the duo and the naked mole rat to a conference room in the base. It had a long table with 40 chairs in it.

"The scientists should be with you in a few minutes, Miss Possible. Make yourselves comfortable." Hux explained.

Kim and Ron then sat in the chairs as the two scientists came into the conference room. One was a female with blonde hair in her 30s, the other was a male in his 40s. Also wheeled into the room was a black box guarded by six soldiers.

"I am so glad that you are here, Miss Possible." the male scientist said. "We have heard of your marvelous reputation on taking on the most impossible of deeds."

"To be fair, Possible is in my name!" Kim smiled.

"We need your help in this trying time." the female scientist explained. "This involves a top-secret military experiment that we need help to transfer from here to another secret back located in the Utah desert."

"Since Hux told me that you're the main scientists behind the project, can you tell me what this experiment is?" Kim asked.

"Yeah, me and KP need to know what it is that we are dealing with." Ron added.

"I do apologize, Miss Possible..." the female scientist replied, "...but it is a matter of national security. About 98% of the information has been redacted from public eyes. But what we can tell you is that it should never EVER be removed from its protective box...or else!"

"Or else what?" Ron wondered.

"That it could fall into the wrong hands." the male scientist explained.

"And we do not want that to happen." the female scientist concluded. "So we are going to trust you with the protection of this object, Miss Possible."

"So when and where does the transfer of the...mystery object...take place?" Kim asked.

The male scientist answered Kim's question.

"It will take place about two weeks from now in Utah right outside the capital, Salt Lake City. On the 18th of June. "

"It's no big! I have a titanium-steel safe in my room where I keep my most glam jewels for special events." Kim explained, "The object will be safe until then."

"Then it's settled!" the female scientist replied, "Miss Possible has earned our trust to protect the object until the transfer occurs. We thank you for your services!"

"It's so not the drama!" Kim replied.

She then turned to her boyfriend. "Come on, Ron. Let's get a ride back to Middleton."

"Right with ya, KP!" Ron exclaimed.

[hollypastl]

the disappearance of [REDACTED] ch.2

miya atsumu/reader

Summary: "MISSING: MIYA Y/N" It reads. Underneath is a picture of yourself. Age, height, weight. Everything important is listed. How embarrassing.

Genre: angst/mystery

Warnings: missing persons, time skip spoilers

Notes: crossposted on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726002/chapters/70468146#workskin

chapter two: you will live and die for them because that’s your way

Osamu is still as a statue as he processes what his brother’s just told him.

It doesn’t seem real.

“That doesn’t make any— No. I know you’re you and she’s her, but you two are…” He trails off and starts wiping down the bar again. It’s a nervous habit Osamu picked up sometime when he wasn’t watching. “I mean... last week she didn’t act like anything was—”

Atsumu is busy reeling from his brother almost(?) complimenting his relationship that he almost misses it. “Last week?”

He nods. “Yeah, the stall was packed at the Friday game… She jumped in and manned the register so the rest of us could work on finishing orders.”

“Last week, though? You’re positive?”

He nodded.

“You saw her?”

From your usual court side seats, you could hear shoes squeaking and players panting. The thirty second row just wasn’t the same. At the same time, watching the game from a birds eye view gave you a new perspective and appreciation.

You leaned forward and locked on to Sakusa for the serve that would start the set. Your cheek sunk into your hand as his serve shot almost straight into the floor if not for a quick save by Komori that he bounced with only a single arm.

Someone across the way whooped and your eyes darted side to side as the ball hopped in the air and the setter shot a quick toss through the air. Your eyes landed on the spiker it was hurtling towards. From this far away, it was impossible to see, but you knew Suna well enough. Right now he was probably thinking something like, ‘There’s a three man block in front of me, is there really any use in jumping? I’m not gonna land a point anyway, so I might as well conserve my energy.” Still, he leaped for all he was worth and dinked it with his freakishly long fingers at the last second.

“Woohoo!” You screeched. Ignoring the fans who turned around to frown at you. Understandable. Why were you sitting in the MSBY Black Jackals section and dressed in black and gold merch if you were gonna cheer for the other damn team? You glare right back at them and slurp on your empty drink. The action only reminds you that you’re kind of hungry.

Inunaki bumps it back up all the same. Not surprising considering how slow and weak dinks are, but you gasp and groan aloud with the rest of the fans when Atsumu immediately tries to dump the ball back over the net. The play is messy and his hands are easy to read. Suna springs back up and spikes it down before the two even have a chance to tussle over it.

The buzzer rings and the EJP Raijin are awarded the point.

“Now that’s a failure of a setter dump if I ever saw one. Not what you usually expect from a player like Miya.”

“He does seem to be off his game today— oh, and there it is. Coach Foster is subbing in another player.”

“It’s only the second set, and the Jackals did take the first. There’s plenty of time for him to cool off and get back on the court to show us some of his monster serves.”

The commentators switch to talking about the serving skills of the various players at today’s game, which you don’t bother to stick around for. You did come to see Atsumu, after all. No point in staying if he’s not on the court.

You gather your hair in a low ponytail and tie it back, put your jacket back on, and make sure you have your wallet and phone still. All secure.

The stadium isn’t one you’re used to, so you refer to the map in the concrete hallway. The exit closest to the station is the north one and you’re at the southeast. It’s only when you turn to go that you realize you don’t know whether to go left or right.

“Well, it is just a giant circle,” You mutter. “Doesn’t really matter which way.”

From further inside, you can hear the buzzer go off one, two three times, signaling the end of the set. “That was quick.” The halls flood immediately and you’re forced to slow down and trudge through, rather than hyperwalk like you usually would. This whole trip is turning out to be one inconvenience after another. Atsumu is off his game. You’re hungry. People in this crowd keep bumping into you.

“Hey lady, get in line like the rest of us.” One asshole grunts and you reflexively scowl at him and the five brats he’s with. It drops from your face. If you had to deal with five kids under the age of ten all by yourself, you’d be grumpy too.

“Sorry, m’bad.” Curious, (and still hungry) you check what it is they’re in line for. Immediately, you’re in a better mood. Skirting the line, you hop over the gate and swipe some onigiri right out of the display box.

“Oi! What the hell are you— Oh, [y/n].”

“Hey there, stranger! Fancy meeting you here.” In two massive, disgusting, and arguably impressive bites, you swallow the onigiri (which is in no way, bite sized) and pluck the baseball cap off his head.

“Hiii, welcome to Onigiri Miya, what can I get for you today?” You ask, pulling your ponytail through the hat and bumping your hip with Osamu’s. The old man isn’t all that disturbed by the abrupt change in cashier and prattles on a list of items long enough to feed a battalion. You’re quick to click it into the POS and nod your head to the order printer that’s situated further back in their makeshift workstation. “I’ve got this. Go do your thing.” He rubs his hat hair sheepishly. He wasn’t planning on taking it off today. "Here's your receipt, sir. Please pick up your order at the station to your left. Good afternoon, it’s lovely to have ya here at Onigiri Miya, whatcha cravin’?”

“That’s it? What else did she say? Where’d she go after? When did she leave?” Atsumu’s hands buried themselves in his hair, practically pulling it out by the roots.

“I don’t know! Um… The rush came after the second set, I think? N’she left right after. I assumed she just went back in ta watch the game!”

“But she didn’t say anything weird?”

“No! We were so busy I barely said two words to ‘er!” Osamu had never seen his brother look so frantic.

“I’m going back to the police.” He rasped out.

— — —

At the station, Detective Kano looks over your file.

CASE: Missing Persons

FULL NAME: Miya [y/n]

BIRTHPLACE: Sapporo

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Osaka

Looking at it plainly, the answer is clear. As much as his subordinate and your husband don’t want to believe it, you’ve left. Nobody took you or forced you. The reason could be anything. You got bored or felt stifled in your marriage, (it did say you two had gotten married at twenty. That’s awfully young to make a lifelong commitment) you met another man, (always a possibility) or it could be that you were running for your life from an abusive piece of shit. Your case wouldn’t be the first like that and nor would it be the last. He didn’t care how ‘worried’ your husband appeared to be. For all he knew, the bastard could just be worried about people finding out and it ending his career.

"Oi, Tanigashi.” He barked. The rookie’s head shot up. “We find any bodies in the past couple days?”

“Time frame?” She asked, already typing away.

“Last seen on Tuesday, the fourteenth”

“Male? Female? What else, ya gotta help me out here.”

“Twenty two year old female.”

She hummed. “Tourist?”

He shook his head.

“Is she a short emo meets Harajuku model typa person?” She sighed, turned the monitor in his direction.

He sighed. “Nope. Sorry fer wastin’ your time. Get back to work.”

“Detective?” The office secretary popped his head in the door. “The statements you ordered just came in. Should I print them out for you?”

“Yeah, thanks kid.” Kano heaved himself out of his seat and cracked his bones. Years on the force and keeping up with full contact Karate were starting to get to him. Maybe he should take his daughters advice and take up Tai Chi or Yoga.

He crinkles open a wrapper and pops the gum in his mouth, reading the evidence as it’s freshly warm off the machine.

The bank statements aren’t anything out of the ordinary. You’ve withdrawn everything from your personal account. The joint account has been left alone. He jots down a note. ‘Set financial alert for suspicious activity.’

This way he’ll know if one of you tries to remove the other from the account. Again, he noted that you hadn’t withdrawn anything from the joint. As his spouse, you were legally entitled to it. And with Atsumu’s fat check from three seasons of pro sports under his belt, it wasn’t like he would miss a little bit all that much.

If anything, it told the detective that you didn’t hate him. Had you wanted him to suffer, it would be easy to empty the accounts and leave him broke.

“Rule’s out abuse.” He mumbles. Unless you were afraid of retribution should he find you. Though with how thorough you were being, (phone left behind. bank account empty. social media untouched) something told him you didn’t have any plans to be found.

Kano sighs, flipping through more pages and organizing them as he goes.

“This just gets more and more complicated.” He stops. “Hey, kid. Where’s the health report?”

He paled, worried he had missed something. “Ummmmmmmmm.” His fingers click across his email. “Looks like the hospital needs a formal report before releasing any information. Sorry, I’ll get right on that.”

— — —

Tucked away behind more wealthy and more flashy neighborhoods, hidden and huddled by a ring of trees, the only way you could ever know the Miya household was there was if you had been there before.

Which you had.

Ducked below a hill off the main road, it’s a modest split level house which seemed a lot smaller when you were younger. Then again, it had been inhabited by both the boys, their mom, and all the people they attracted. Which happened to be a lot. Despite being more than a little rude, Atsumu and Osamu were always surrounded by people wanting to be their friend.

You park in the driveway and enter through the back door on the porch, which has been unlocked since you first started visiting when you were fifteen.

“Toyo! It’s [y/n]. You here?” You called, walking through the door. No answer.

You walked through the kitchen and down the six steps to the main level.

“Toyo? You in there?” Politely soft, but loud enough to be heard, you knocked on her door. Still nothing.

You swung the door open.

“To—” Surrounded by tissues, old bowls of food, and shivering, was Miya Toyo in all her glory. “Gosh.” You whispered. “I knew you were sick, but this is ridiculous.”

Quietly, you grabbed the heating pad in her nightstand drawer and plugged it in, setting it next to her on the bed. Then, gently pulling the covers up and smoothing them out. Not that it mattered. The woman slept like a rock. You wondered if she had always dealt with being sick like this: alone, with no one to care for her.

Then you were headed back towards the kitchen. The door to Toyo’s room was carefully shut. You didn’t want your noise to wake her up. On the way back, you shuddered. No wonder she was sick, she kept the house colder than an icebox.

You made a pit stop at the boy’s room, sliding open a closet door, grabbing a hoodie, and smelling it.

“Hmm… Yeah, that’s Atsumu.” You recognized and quickly pulled it on. The man threw a fit anytime you wore Osamu’s clothes, so you had learned to differentiate the two. You chuckled. That was one of the ways you had figured out he had a thing for you.

A second pair of socks was also stolen. Yours were much too thin to keep your toes from falling off. “Hmm hmmm. Hmm hm, hmmm hm.” You hummed absentmindedly as you switched on the kettle and searched through the pantry and fridge for ideas on what to make.

[welcome-to-roomba-fazbender]

Roomba Fazbender Menu/Deals

Here is a list of the food items you can order while at Roomba Fazbender’s

The Pizza: they only serve 4 kinds of pizza at Roomba Fazbenders 

((Cheese, Meat Monster, Charlie’s Special and NONE PIZZA WITH RIGHT BEEF)) you won’t find out what the Special is until it is ordered and it always changes.

Single slice of pizza: 1.99

Small pizza: 6.99

Medium pizza: 8.99

Large pizza: 10.99

Extra large pizza: 14.20

((The only customization available for the pizza is the sause which will be listed below)

1: Marina sause

2: BBQ sause 

3: Ranch dressing 

4: Babies Tears 

5: Blood 

6: MISTAKE ((it’s a mistake because it’s made from REDACTED))

other menu options:

1 Phoenix Wings: 100.99$ ((they are the wings of an actual phoenix killed by Charlie... they will always be spicy and you might burn your tongue off if you eat them you get 4 wings)) 

2 French Fries: 5.45$ ((a big basket of fries))

3 Kangaroo Tail: 9.99$ ((a battered and deep fried Kangaroo tail tastes great! but you’ll feel sad for the rest of your life after eating it))

4 Pretzels: 2.99$ ((a small box full of cheese covered salt and peppered pretzels))

5 Raw Baby Walrus: 15.50$ ((it’s alive you must kill it to eat it... but... the rest of the walrus will know and come for you if you order it))

6 Cake: 10.00$ ((a cake with a happy birthday message on it))

7 Cupcakes: 5.00$ ((birthday cupcakes))

8 Meatballs: 20.00$ ((made from the meat of mysterious giant sutlers you’ll be given about 20 very large meatballs in a bowl))

9 Puppo Rings: $8.23 ((their basically onion rings but they are made from talking puppos)) 

10 Chips and Salsa: $13.00 ((a large bowl of chips and salsa served inside the chest of a baby doll who is constantly crying and acts like it’s alive begging you to stop... but is it actually live?))  

11: Ice Cream $4.99 ((all you can eat but only 2 flavors: Viagra and Anime Girl Spit the catch is you have to survive Roomba Henry in the safe room))

12: drinks $3.00 ((found in the arcade room any drink you want always extra large can be ordered from an odd coffee machine with a keyboard))

And here is a list of the deals on food you can expect to see on the menu food items

Deal 1: the LGBT+ special 

**If you are the sexuality of the week your complete order will be lowered by 20% Roomba Fazbenders might be cursed but they respect your sexuality and want to welcome you in and on valentines day anyone who isn’t straight gets 50% off their complete order” 

((warning if you are discovered to be a straight person/someone against LGBT+ lying to get a better deal you’ll be kicked out and banned from the restaurant))

Deal 2: Canada Day Special 

your order will be 25% off if you order a pizza on the week of Canada day with the Canada day special sause: maple syrup 

Deal 3: The Roomba Special 

if you agree to have a roomba thrown at you in the face and if you don’t lose any teeth you get 5% off your order

Deal 4: THE GODRED Roomba Special

if you agree to take the Godred Roomba home with you you’ll get 100% off your order however you won’t live to see another day 

Deal 5: ... Cursed Special 

you’ll be given 30% off for a life time if you sell your soul to Sliver jack the photo negative Walrus in the ball pit  

((but is it worth it?))

Deal 6: THE FINAL DEAL

you’ll get 10% just once... but your head will be replaced with an object of charlies choosing after your finished with your meal.

((if you have any questions about any of the menu items please ask Charlie)) 

WARNING: Roomba Fazbenders is not responsible for what you order it’s your mistake not theirs 

[lilacmiracle]

The Terrifying Case of Iplier Manor - Chapter 1

Beta read by @mysterio-is-the-truth

Fandoms: Markiplier, Buzzfeed Unsolved

Note: Quotation marks are Ryan narrating, bold is Shane speaking, italics are Ryan speaking, both bold and italics is the psychic, both bold and italics and in all caps is the spirit box

(AO3) Words: 4,356

The video opens on a series of clips that are presumably filmed later in the episode. The first clip shows Ryan in front of a broken mirror while looking over at Shane, asking, breathlessly, “What the fuck?” The second clip shows Ryan, still in front of the broken mirror, with a bottle of what is presumably holy water. He sprays it at Shane. The third and final clip shows Ryan, Shane, and a new person, all in a different room, this one with a wood fireplace, with a flashlight that has been brightly turned on. The flashlight switches off, and Ryan screams very loudly. 

The video then cuts to the intro for most ‘Supernatural’ episodes, with the building in the background being a version of the Manor, rendered in a 2-Dimensional style.

The video then cuts to Ryan and Shane standing in front of the double doors to the Manor, with Ryan on the right and Shane on the left.

“We are here at Iplier Manor, site of the Warfstache Disappearances, for this season’s finale and my one demon sacrifice for this season.”

I’m really fucking scared, man. I -- I don’t wanna do this.

It’s fiiiiiine. I mean, what’s the worst that’s gonna happen? Spooky lawyer ghosts?

We could die! We could disappear like those other people!

Only if the Colonel comes.

“This house, if it is, in fact, inhabited by a demon, is by far the most dangerous location that we have ever investigated. As such, we have brought in a psychic to help us in our investigation.”

The new person from the third clip steps into frame. She appears to be an older woman with short, gray hair and loose clothes. She is wearing loose necklaces and an abundance of bracelets that hang off of her wrists.

Hello, my name is Lily, and I am here to help these two with their investigation on this Manor right here.

With that, the Ghoul Boys™ and Lily head inside of the Manor.

I have a Bible and my holy water.

You’re gonna be fine, Ryan.

I sure hope so.

“This episode is going to be rather out of the ordinary with regards to our other demon investigations, considering the fact that we have already covered the history of this house in our last True Crime episode. However, there are a few odd occurrences inside of these walls that were not covered in that video.”

The video cuts to black, fading into a black-and-white image of Mark Iplier. Ryan’s narration continues.

“This Manor has a long history of misery, being the place of many a divorce and untimely death, all of which were ruled to be by natural causes. Things start getting weird when the actor Mark Iplier buys the house for himself and his new wife, Celine Iplier, in early 1913. Investigators found a diary that is believed to have been owned by Celine Iplier. The entries in this diary paint a terrible picture -- Mark was being twisted into the form of a monster, wrote one entry.”

The image on the video had shifted into an image of Celine when Ryan mentioned her. Now, it shows an image of aged paper, with a message written in practiced cursive. A female voice begins to read:

“Friday, February 20, 1914,

This house has become more and more oppressive. I sense darkness within it, and I think that Mark does as well. I am concerned, for if he feels what I can -- he is not trained in anything beyond our world, he has no access to what is past our mortal realm. For the house to make itself known, even to him, is a sign of something terrible.

I can feel him changing, shifting; he has been ever since he bought this place. Hell, he changed the moment he set foot through those damned doors. I don’t know what the house is twisting him into -- I just know that I won’t like the end result.”

There is a sound effect of the turning of a page, and the image onscreen is replaced by a new one -- another aged piece of paper, the same perfect penmanship, a different message that’s somehow even more ominous. The same voice begins to read:

“Wednesday, August 5, 1914,

Mark hasn’t gotten a job in months. He quit the studio in June, and he keeps telling me that he’ll try for a job with another. He’s not going to, and I don’t have to be psychic to see that. He keeps wasting away in his office, today is no different. He keeps going to the wine cellar, but whenever I go, no wine is missing.

I don’t know what he’s doing. Mark’s beginning to scare me -- he fired our butler. Again. He wouldn’t have done that two years ago. This Mark isn’t the one I married two years ago, either. 

This house is twisting him, and I fear the image that he is being molded to. My concerns aren’t being listened to, either -- everyone’s saying it’s the stress of the War. That’s not it, wars don’t make men stay away from their wives for weeks at a time. Wars don’t make men fire staff member after staff member, or buy car after car, while doing nothing at all with the luxuries that they’ve bought. Wars don’t change men like Mark has changed.

I want my husband back. And I want this fucking house burned to the ground.”

Another page turn, another piece of paper. It’s still old, and still covered in Celine’s perfect handwriting. A new message is upon it.

“Friday, May 14, 1915,

Mark is dead, and whatever’s walking around in his body isn’t him. I’ve mourned and made my peace with that. The thing wearing his face is a selfish and awful monster.

It still hosts parties like Mark did -- the same poker nights that are always won by (the writing is redacted. Written over it, in white, is “The District Attorney,” despite the fact that the person that it must be referring to won’t even be the DA for another 5 years), the same cocktail parties for the sole purpose of social climbing. Those parties are the same as before, which is almost insulting. The only difference is that Mark, our friends and I used to make fun of the pompous jerks, afterward. Now he sends them home with everyone else. He never speaks to me, either.

Parties are the only times I see my brother anymore. I miss Damien, almost more than I miss Mark. But I know that Damien is within reach. I know that I can worm my way past the monster, if only for a few hours. But Mark is too far gone to even be contacted through the beyond. I fear that I will never see him again, even after I die. That almost scares me more than the monster.”

Another entry.

“Saturday, October 7, 1916,

William returned yesterday. He says to call him Colonel now, but I don’t think I ever will. It’s too impersonal, and it glorifies the War far too much. The War cost William his leg, and too many others their lives.

Will may be my only escape from the monster. He hasn’t let me leave this house in months, not even to see Damien. There’s a poker night on Tuesday, the 10th. I know that William will be there, and I know that the layout of the house will disorient him. When he gets lost in the house, I can find him. He’ll be away from ‘Mark,’ far enough away that I can convince him to run away with me. I know that he will, I know that he still loves me, even after our breakup, and even after my wedding.

I only have one chance to escape. William is my last hope, and if I fail, my fate will be at the hands of the monster.

At times like this, I think of my husband. My real husband. I miss Mark dearly, but I know that I could never bear to look at him if he came back. His image has been far too tainted by the thing that is wearing his face.

This will be my final entry. I am hiding this diary in the hopes that it may one day be found by those who may purchase this accursed Manor. Know that if I have mysteriously died or disappeared, it was caused by something taking the form of Mark Iplier. 

Know that this Manor isn’t safe.”

Well that was something.

That was an adventure. We’ve got body snatchers, we’ve got cursed houses, we’ve got reclusive husbands. Hell, this would make a great book!

(wheeze)

“These diary entries tell the horrifying tale of Celine Iplier, who was terrorized by the demon within this very Manor. It took the form of her husband, Mark Iplier, whom she was later able to divorce. She regained her maiden name, which has now been lost, along with many other names of those present at the party almost exactly four years later.”

What’s weird -- and I mean it’s really fucking weird -- is she did still disappear mysteriously. With whatever made itself look like her ex-husband.

That is weird, yeah, but it’s also four years later. I think it’s a coincidence.

But it’s four years to the day!

Coincidence. Although -- this does paint Warfstache in a whole new light.

It does, actually. He’s the hero now!

Good for him.

“Speaking of Warfstache, we are now going to be entering the room that matched the location of his supposed ‘séance room.’ When it was investigated, there was no evidence of anything supernatural at all, though it doesn’t hurt to look.”

The crew enters the room, which is set up with a table in the center. Around it are three chairs, presumably meant for Shane, Ryan, and Lily. There are three lit candles sitting on the center of the table.

We are going to be performing a séance in this room, the one where Damien and Celine allegedly disappeared. We will be attempting to contact their departed spirits, in the hopes that they will be able to give us answers as to the events that transpired in this house.

Shane, Ryan, and Lily all sit at the table. They join hands around the table, encircling it.

Close your eyes, everyone.

Shane, Ryan, and Lily all close their eyes.

We are reaching out to one or both of the twins Damien and Celine, who disappeared in this house in the year 1920. If either of you are present, please send us a sign.

Nothing happens for a moment. The room is silent, the only light coming from the flames of the candles.

Lily visibly shudders.

Something is here. I do not know who, or what, it is. Ryan, if you could ask your first question?

Yes. Are you Damien or Celine?

I -- I just felt a “No.” In my head. I don’t think that it’s either of them.

Are you, or were you, human?

Another “No.”

Are you a demon?

Lily breathes deeply, as if steeling herself.

“Yes.”

Ryan visibly tenses. Shane continues his questioning.

Are you the demon that looked like the actor guy?

Lily becomes unnaturally still for a moment, as if she’s listening to something that nobody else can hear.

It -- it says that it never looked like him. It never possessed him. It just ... spoke to him. Are you intending to harm anyone in this circle tonight?

Silence. The video cuts ahead, almost imperceptibly, as everyone is still in the same position as before.

Fifteen minutes have passed with no answer. The demon has ended the séance.

Lily opens her eyes and releases Shane and Ryan’s hands. The others follow suit.

I’m really freaking out now.

You’ve got your holy water, man. And your Bible.

I -- yeah. I have holy water and I’m not afraid to use it.

You think it was telling the truth? About not possessing the guy?

Are you actually admitting that a real demon was talking to us?

I’m not admitting anything. I’m invested in the story, though.

The story.

Yeah, the story. Was the guy possessed like the wife says, or did he just become a total douche? Fame can do that to people, you know.

You didn’t need fame for that, you dick.

Shush, you.

“After the séance, we’re going to be walking around the Manor so that Lily can get a general sense of the place and if there’s anything that she can pick up on that we haven’t.”

I would just like to say, before we leave this room -- I can feel something here. Unrelated to the recent séance.

Ryan hesitates, then says, 

Please elaborate.

Something ... bad ... happened here. In this room. I sense feelings of confusion, betrayal, loss ... regret. I -- hang on.

She moves to another area of the room, closing in on herself.

Something terrible happened, right in this spot. Somebody died right here. The thing is, though, I can usually sense if it’s a masculine or a feminine presence. I can definitively say that there was at least one masculine presence, the one that died in this spot. But the other ... seems to alternate between the two. And not in a natural way, either; it feels like a woman was possessed by something male. These ‘presences’ aren’t here right now, though, Ryan, you can relax.

Ryan had tensed up, but now he relaxed slightly after Lily told him to.

These are ... echoes of people that were here, ones that went through something awful. These echoes feel very similar to each other, at least, the masculine one and the feminine part of the other. I think that Damien and Celine did die here. I can also sense that they are still wandering this plane, still stuck roaming the mortal realm ... but they left this Manor long ago. We won’t see any of them tonight.

With that, she exits the room, beckoning for Shane and Ryan to follow.

“Our first stop is by an object that most paranormal investigators have agreed is one of the most active places in this Manor.”

The crew stops near a broken mirror on the first floor of the building. There is a large hole just to the left of the center of the mirror.

There is a lot of energy here. You boys might like to use your ‘Spirit Box’ here later. I can feel ... quite a lot, a lot of people, a lot of emotion, right here. I can feel an echo of a man, just over there.

She points to an area just past the mirror, towards what appears to be a room with large double doors leading outside. They are covered by curtains, and made almost completely of glass.

There is a sense of ... pity. Towards him, from someone over here. This mirror feels ... empty. Not empty as in ‘there’s nothing there,’ but empty as in apathetic. Someone fought desperately, kicked and screamed and did everything in their power to get someone, anyone, to help them ... but nobody came. So, they slowly gave up. The fight drained until they finally realized that nobody would, or even could, save them. Now they’re trapped in the eternal hell of the mirror, abandoned by those they thought to be friends. I ... don’t know where that came from, I’m sorry.

Don’t be.

Well, I can tell you that the presence in the mirror was human, but now they’re a spirit. Neither a masculine nor feminine presence, but I think that that discrepancy is a natural one. I can also feel ... something familiar, similar to the room we were in a few minutes ago.

The séance room?

Yes. It is only an echo, but it feels ... powerful. Very, very powerful. And ... angry. On a quest for revenge, hoping to right the wrongs done unto it. Them. It feels like multiple people in one echo, which ... I don’t like that. But ... that echo held the souls of Damien and Celine, but ... not. It was them, but broken. Only bits and pieces of their souls were pieced together into this ... amalgamation. I just ... I really don’t like the energy over here anymore. May we go on?

Of course.

Shane and Ryan hang back a bit.

That was intense. Maybe it possessed her? A bit? Or the thing in the mirror was lonely, and went kind of overboard in expressing itself. Maybe?

We can ask it with the Spirit Box later. Of course, I would not be at all opposed if you didn’t want to.

Why? You scared, Shane?

It’s loud and annoying and, frankly, if I don’t have to hear it then I wouldn’t mind at all.

Yeah, it is kind of loud and annoying.

Thank you.

But we’re still doing it.

*sigh*

The video cuts to the crew walking around various hallways and into various rooms. A few occasional creaks and thumps can be heard, but they’re all easily explainable as the house settling. It is uneventful, until Lily suddenly stops at the top of a balcony on the second floor. Shane and Ryan turn around to see her grasping at the rail with a white-knuckled grip, her eyes squeezed shut.

I ... someone died here. Someones, actually. Two people died in this general area.

Can you tell us if you have any idea of who?

Yes. I need a moment, though.

She walks back to a window that she had passed a moment ago. She kneels below it, her head bowed. She stands again.

I can feel it. A man died right here, very suddenly. I would say that I smell gunpowder, but I don’t smell it, I only sense it. This man wanted justice, he wanted answers for ... I’m sorry. I don’t know.

That’s alright. Can you give any more insight as to who he was?

Yes. Something about him is very ... fixed. He stuck to what he knew, and what he was familiar with. He always had a partner, even though none of them lived to tell the tale.

The Detective.

That seems to make sense, considering everything that I’m getting from him. I think his name was ... “Abe.” 

Thank you. Now, can you tell us anything about the other death?

Yes. It was over here, I believe.

She walks back to the balcony, gripping the rail. She never looks over the edge, instead staring into the camera.

It was just as sudden as Abe’s. A gunshot. They were trying to help their partner, though they didn’t blame the culprit. Everyone was high-strung at the time, and the Detective was ‘poking the bear,’ at least, that’s what I’m getting from them.

Their partner ... this must be where the District Attorney died.

This feels eerily similar to the spirit in the mirror.

One could hear a pin drop, with how silent it got. After a moment, Lily continued.

They were shot, and then they fell over this balcony right here, all the way to the ground below.

Lily looks over the railing, gripping it with both hands. Her knuckles are white, when suddenly she reaches out, screaming,

IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR!

It echoes in the hall for a moment. Everyone, even Shane, stands there in stunned silence. Lily retracts her hand, resting both gently upon the railing. She looks down. Her eyes are closed. She murmurs, softly, almost to herself,

It’s not fair, is it?

Lily shudders and looks up and around, coming back to herself. She folds her arms tightly across her chest and breezes past the camera, murmuring, 

I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll be in the last room.

The video shows Shane and Ryan looking at each other in confusion and concern. The video shows the crew chasing after her for a bit, then cutting to a room with a couch and a fireplace, with a hardwood floor. It is the room that was shown in one of the clips that was played at the beginning of the video, the clip with the flashlights. Lily is there, with Shane and Ryan. Lily is standing in front of the fireplace.

Are you sure that you want to do this?

Yes, I’m sure. The flashlights will provide a mode of communication, so nothing will have to use me. This will actually be the safest thing that we have done thus far -- provided, of course, that we continue to adhere to the rules of proper conduct.

What are those? We haven’t heard of any kind of rules, except for not to directly incite anything to speak.

No, that’s not what I meant. You received general advice, of the kind that could be used in contact with any run-of-the-mill demon. This one, however, requires a bit of ... decorum. Most powerful demons are like that, and this Entity is no exception.

What are these rules, exactly?

You don’t need to worry, I’ll let you know if you come close to breaking any. Just continue as you were.

Okay, well, if you’re sure ... 

“We are currently sitting in the room that contained the makeshift crime scene, that was supposed to belong to Mark Iplier. The area that the body supposedly occupied was in front of that fireplace right there -” he gestured over to the fireplace “- and it is also here that he reportedly died. Once again, this was covered in our True Crime video, however, there are a few supernatural elements that we neglected to mention. Specifically, Warfstache’s reports of the body having disappeared less than 24 hours after it was discovered.”

The “poof” strikes again.

(uneasy laughter)

“There is no evidence to suggest that this body was moved through supernatural means, in fact, there is also no real evidence to suggest that a body was even here in the first place. The crude shape of a body lying on the ground was constructed of white tape, however, it was not likely that it was constructed by actual authorities, given that no records definitively place a body in this spot.”

Not to mention that the tape structure had a dick on it.

Wait, really? Like, the real outline had a dick?

Yep.

(disbelieving laughter)

“Additionally, many tests have been performed in this area to determine whether any bodily fluids, fingerprints, or any kind of remnant of a human body was present in this area. All that was found was half of a thumbprint, which could not be identified.”

The thumbprint was in the general area of where the thumb would have been, judging from the tape, but that’s not enough conclusive evidence to say, “yes, Mark Iplier did die here.”

It could’ve been any thumbprint, from anyone who was making the tape thing.

Yeah. Personally, I think that it was Iplier’s, but some may not exactly be inclined to believe that.

Lily takes the end of Ryan’s narration as her cue to begin investigating the room for an echo or a presence of any kind.

There was death here, but ... I do not sense any emotion from the victim. That’s ... very odd.

The “victim?” So the person that died here, were they mur-

NO!!!

Ryan and Shane glance at each other in shock.

Don’t say that word. It’s a rule for this demon.

Ryan gives a shaky exhale.

Thanks.

But to answer your question ... yes. The victim was ... killed by someone else.

Do you have any idea who?

I ... barely. He seems very similar to the man I sensed earlier, the one who was pitied by something near the mirror. I know it isn’t much, but ...

Thanks anyway, Lily. Now, let’s get into Shane’s favorite part ...

It’s flashlight time! 

A flashlight is set up as usual, with the setting almost hovering between on and off. It’s currently on, but it would be very easy to turn off completely. 

Okay, my first question: is anyone or anything with us right now? Please turn the flashlight off if you are willing to communicate.

The flashlight doesn’t change for a bit. Then, slowly, it dims and turns off. Ryan tenses up immediately, while Shane hardly reacts.

For the record ... this does feel very similar to the demon from earlier.

If you’re a demon, turn it back on!

The flashlight turns on almost immediately. It is shining rather brightly, brighter than before. Ryan shrinks back a bit. Shane, however, is laughing.

Turn it off ... if you’re gonna kill us!

The light turns off, and Ryan screams. Shane laughs at Ryan’s reaction.

Okay, demon, just one more question before Ryan starts talking ... turn the flashlight back on if you’re gonna disappear us like those other guys.

The camera focuses on the flashlight for a few minutes, but it remains off.

Wow, we’re not even gonna be a mystery? You’re just gonna kill us and not even bother making it interesting? You have no taste.

Shane is shaking his head in mock disappointment as Ryan laughs uneasily.

I am gonna be slaughtered in cold blood, and when I do I want it to be a goddamned mystery! I wanna be on Buzzfeed Unsolved! Fuck you!

Ryan is laughing louder now, and is beginning to relax.

Okay, uh, let’s get down to business. Did you kill the inhabitants of this Manor in October of 1920?

The flashlight remains off, immobile.

I think I scared him off.

Try one more question, Ryan?

Okay. Did you enable, or help along in any way, the deaths of the inhabitants of this Manor in October 1920?

The flashlight remains off for a moment. Then, slowly, it dimly turns itself on. Ryan jumps, but doesn’t freak out as badly as before. 

I ... I think that we’re done with the flashlights tonight.

Awww!

Shane pouts, while Ryan grabs the flashlight and turns it off. Lily stands, and nods at Ryan and Shane.

It seems that it is time to make my leave. Goodbye, you two.

Lily begins to walk away, as Ryan and Shane wave a short goodbye. Then as soon as she is about to leave the room, she stops and turns back.

Good luck. You’ll need it.

Then, she walks out of frame.

Tags: @lildevyl @ghostly-quest @turtlecrow @sandinthetardis

[florenceathanas]

dhtask iii.

“ a study in identity and illusion. ”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

triggers: domestic abuse, implied child abuse, misogyny

march 14th, 2019: 4:00 PM

he realized it was his birthday.

he realized he could barely remember his birth name.

he realized he didn’t miss it.

march 14th, 1999: 4:00 PM

'zoinks! the mystery machine is on the way join us at [redacted]’s birthday! (sunday march 14th 3:00 PM kidzania RSVP by march 8th to [redacted]’

it was the one day of the year that they spent more than £7 on him. it was the one day of the year that his dad could convince his mom to let him wear his favorite pink shirt ( polo, his dad gave it to him on his fifth birthday – it barely fit anymore, but he liked it all the same ). it was the one day of the year that all of the kids he knew pretended they knew him.

it was his favorite day of the year.

and it was time for presents.

angelique had wrapped her present to him in yellow polka dots. birthday bear was inside.

he liked the care bears. his mom didn’t.

monica had wrapped her present to him in pink. a plush unicorn was inside.

he liked unicorns. his mom didn’t. 

neely had wrapped her present to him in yellow and purple stripes. a new plum shirt was inside.

he liked plum. his mom didn’t.

bruce had wrapped his present to him in a truck pattern. a play truck was inside.

he didn’t like trucks. his mom did.

benjamin had wrapped his present to him in white and red. a basketball was inside.

he didn’t like basketball. his mom did.

sergio had wrapped his present to him in blue. hot wheels were inside.

he didn’t like hot wheels. his mom did.

march 14th, 1999: 6:00 PM

at home with the presents angelique, monica, and neely had given him tucked safely away in the garbage, his dad held out a scooby-doo patterned box. there was no wrapping paper.

a garfield chia pet and another pink shirt were inside.

“ i had my eye on this, ah, this really nice beginner gardening set, ” he began with a smile in spite of the sadness in his eyes. “ but there’s not a lotta good places to garden around here. ” and that was true. but his eyes also drifted upwards to [redacted]’s mom, standing above the both of them. then his eyes looked to the hole in the wall. then back to his beaming son.

“ yeah, yeah. here, ” she said, no preamble. the box was adorned in trucks.

another play truck and a shirt that said ‘lady’s man’ were inside.

“ i spent a lot of money on those. i expect you to play with them and wear that. ”

the room filled up with sadness. dad was sad that he couldn’t bring himself to step in. mom was sad that dad was encouraging this behavior. son was sad that his parents were sad. son was sad that his favorite toys would be taken away.

march 14th, 1999: 8:00 PM

the walls were paper thin, the reason they’d gotten so many noise complaints over the years. and there was a hole. he always saw it as heart-shaped. his mother had done it out of love.

through the hole, and through those thin walls, he could hear them arguing. the garbage disposal was running. he knew his unicorn plush had been cut up and fed to it. 

but he was allowed to keep his care bear. that made him happy.

“ stop encouraging this fucking behavior ! ” “ he’s a kid, jas. let him do what he wants to do. ” “ he’s gonna get himself beat. ” “ by you. ” SLAP ! “ don’t you disrespect me like that. who’s the one paying for this shit, hm ? i haven’t ever seen you signing a check for this shithole, lazy ass. get a better fucking job, then we’ll – ” “ you know i’ve tried, but my leg – ” SLAP !  “ oh, i’m so sorry your leg hurts. oh, i’m so sorry you can’t do anything ‘cause you got a little fucking scrape – man the hell up. no wonder he’s such a damn pansy. ” “ you know that my leg – ” SLAP ! “ you get a better job. you be a better father, a better fucking role model. then we can talk. ”

march 14th, 2002: 3:00 PM

his first birthday at the house. his first birthday as ‘florence.’ and he was happy. he got that beginner gardening set that his dad had wanted to get him. he also got a betty spaghetty. he also got another care bear. he wanted to pretend he was too old for a betty spaghetty and a care bear, but he loved them.

but he missed his dad. his Father wasn’t really the same.

and he remembered seeing his dad’s sad smile as he was escorted out. he looked at the heart-shaped hole. and then he looked back at [redacted], now florence. and he made a heart with his hands. and he mouthed ‘i love you. goodbye.’ and the last words he heard were from his mother. and she said: “ this is the kind of bullshit that happens when you- ” and then he couldn’t hear the end of her sentence.

he wore his favorite pink shirt. it was almost like a crop top now.

“ florence, make a wish ! ”

but he didn’t know what to wish for. so he didn’t. he just blew out the candles.

[onebloodsoakedlion]

Star Wars: The Force of the Wild

Link had just arrived in a strange place. Sand dunes, not dissimilar to the Gerudo Desert, surrounded him. It was rather warm, but surprisingly not as hot. He noticed a few scraps of metal, sticking out of the ground, and realised he should probably scan the area for treasure with Magnesis.

Mere random scraps of metal lay scattered throughout the desert. These were rather large, so they must’ve been from a structure of some sort. But some of these scraps seemed to be curved in wierd ways. But something big caught his eye. The Magnesis Rune detected a rather large slab of metal hidden in the sand, which seemed to be intact. Out of curiousity, Link used the rune to yoink the slab out.

It was no ordinary metal slab. The back of it was flat, but the front looked all uneven and stony, with the relief of a person across the surface. They were standing normally, with their arms out in front of them, as if pressing against a window to look at something... but their face... oh Hylia, their FACE! Link reeled back in shock, and opened the Camera Rune. An orange box surrounded the metal slab, reading “Analysing object...” A moment later, the words changed to “Carbon__e”. Part of the word was redacted, leading Link to believe it was just corrupted data. He took a photo, and looked at the new Compendium Entry: Outrealm Compendium Entry #??? Name: Carbon__e Type: Unknown Description: Something has been embedded in a mysterious metal alloy known as “Carbon__e”.  The alloy analysed is tougher than regular metals, and therefore resistant to physical attacks. One of the metals detected in this alloy, however, is both stimulant and hallucinogen, keeping people awake and sometimes subjecting them to horrific visions. Despite this, people are still frozen in Carbon__e for various reasons. Otherwise, it is often used to preserve certain materials and objects. Recoverable Materials: Varies

A person was trapped within this “Carbon__e”, possibly suffering in agony, and needed to be taken out right away. The words “frozen in Carbon__e” meant to Link that he perhaps could free them with fire. He pulled out his 5-shot Savage Lynel Bow, armed it with a Fire Arrow, and aimed it at the person trapped inside. It worked. The fire melted away the hideous dark grey metal that encased the person, a man with brown hair, a white shirt and brown trousers, causing his arms to flop to his sides. He didn’t move. Was he dead? Just a moment later, the man opened his eyes and began gasping for air. “Where... am I... now,” the man groaned, rubbing his eyes. When he took his hands away, his normal, human, hazel eyes, had drastically changed. The sclera had turned black, leaving white irises that seemed to glow. He looked up at Link... and seemed to be staring right through him. “Who are you,” the man screamed, startling Link, “Are you another one of my tormentors! Are you are to take what little remains of my sanity, and replace it with voices and intrustive toughts!? ...No... you seem different. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the likes of you before, pal...” Somethink struck Link as odd. This man looked like a Hylian, but his ears were different. They were short and round. It occurred to Link that this was a Human, a person who was similar to Hylians, but with a few differences in physical appearance, and they were unable to communicate with the gods. “I’m Link, the Hero of Time,” Link replied. “The what,” the man exclaimed, clutching his head, “Either I’ve been unfrozen, or I’ve gone fucking mad...” “You’ve been unfrozen,” Link replied, “I set you free.” “Please, tell me you’re not lying,” the man begged, “I keep seeing visions of people setting me free, but they just drag me into some void and torture me!” “I won’t do any of that,” Link quitely responded, “I promise.” “Okay,” the man muttered, wiping black tears away from his eyes. “I forgot to ask,” Link addded, “but who are you?” “I’m no one,” the man replied, “but if you want a name to call me, call me Han Solo.”

Link traversed the dunes with Han, who was mindlessly lumbering by his side. The sand boots Bozai had given him worked a treat. They helped him walk though the unforgiving, movement-restricting sands more easily. Han, despite his normal footwear, still managed to keep up with Link, although only barely. Link turned around every hundered metres to check on his companion, who would stop shambling around and look up at him as if to ask what was happening now. Once Link began walking again, Han would promptly shamble on after him.

Link encountered yet another sign of life in the desert. Opening his Camera Rune, he took a photo of a group of mysterious humanoids, hidden away in big brown robes, invisible except for their glowing yellow eyes. Outrealm Compendium Entry #63 Name: Jawa Type: Creature Description: A race of scavengers who primarily inhabit the desert planet of Tattooine. They search for broken automatons known as droids, as well as their parts, to sell to residents or travellers. They are generally benign towards people, and rarely attack. Recoverable Materials: - Droid parts - Imperial Credits “They’re Jawas,” Han explained to Link, “They scavenge for droid parts and - ” “I know,” Link replied, showing Han the Sheikah Slate, “This thing tells me so.” “Wow,” Han replied, looking at the device, “That’s... like a reflection of... what you see... it’s... even better than a hologram!” “This Sheikah Slate can take pictures with the Camera Rune,” Link replied, “The images are clearer than a mirror. It can even analyse things in the photos and tell me what they are. And that’s not all it can do. Watch!” Link placed a Royal Guard’s Claymore on the ground, before switching to the Magnesis Rune to lift the blade into the air. Han stood back in terror. “Is that the Force,” he exclaimed. “This is a Sheikah technology called Magnesis. It manipulates magnetic forces to pick up anything made of metal. I used it to pull you out of the sand while you’re frozen in that... metal stuff.” “You mean... carbon**e,” Han replied, his voice trailing off at the last symbol, just like how two letters were missing out of “Carbon__e” in the Outrealm Compendium. Link was confused, but continued to remain silent.

Link and Han sat silently around the fire that Link had lit with a wood bundle and his Great Flameblade. Link shared one of his spare meals with Han, but neither of them talked. “How long do we intend to sit here,” Han growled. “Weren’t you going to sleep soon,” Link asked. “I can’t sleep,” Han growled again, “The voices... I’m scared something is going to happen. I’m just gonna wake up in the carbon-freeze again, aren’t I?” “Don’t worry, Han,” Link replied, “I will protect you.”

-- To be Continued --

[dccomicsnews]

99DC Comics News has compiled a list of DC Comics titles and collectibles shipping to comic shops for November 15, 2017.

Check back every Friday with the DC Comics News Pull Box to see all the cool new DC Comics titles and collectibles that will be available at your favorite local comic shop! So, what titles or collectibles will you be picking up this Wednesday? You can sound off in the comments section below! Click on Comic shop Locator to find the comic shop nearest to you!

COMICS

AMERICAN WAY THOSE ABOVE AND BELOW #4 (OF 6) $3.99 AQUAMAN #30 $3.99 BATMAN #35 $2.99 BATMAN WHO LAUGHS #1 (METAL) $3.99 BATWOMAN #9 $3.99 BOMBSHELLS UNITED #6 $2.99 BUG THE ADVENTURES OF FORAGER #5 (OF 6) $3.99 FUTURE QUEST PRESENTS #4 $3.99 GREEN LANTERNS #35 $2.99 INJUSTICE 2 #14 $2.99 JUSTICE LEAGUE #1 SPECIAL EDITION $PI JUSTICE LEAGUE #33 METAL $2.99 NIGHTWING #33 $2.99 SUPER SONS #10 $3.99 SUPERMAN #35 $2.99 TRINITY #15 $3.99 WILD STORM #9 $3.99 WONDER WOMAN CONAN #3 (OF 6) $3.99

DCN Pull Box Triple Spotlight

BATMAN WHO LAUGHS #1 (METAL) $3.99

James TynionIV (A) Riley Rossmo (CA) Jason Fabok

As the events of DARK NIGHTS: METAL rock the DC Universe, the creatures of the Dark Multiverse stand ready to invade our world! How can the World’s Greatest Heroes stop a horde of deadly beings that appear to be powerful nightmare versions of familiar figures? Find out in these special tie-in issues!

JUSTICE LEAGUE #33 METAL $2.99

Bryan Hitch (A) Tyler Kirkham (CA) Ethan Van Sciver

A METAL tie-in! “BATS OUT OF HELL” finale! it’s the Justice League versus the Dark Knights! FIGHT! The Dark Knights have taken a fallen Justice League to the frightening castle of [REDACTED] inside the possessed Gotham City, where they will be prepared as a sacrifice!  The Justice League’s only hope is Cyborg, whose return from the Dark Multiverse has changed him forever!

FUTURE QUEST PRESENTS #4 $3.99

Jeff Parker (A) Ron Randall (CA) Steve Rude

Meet the universe’s most-wanted thieves, the Galaxy Trio! Transformed by a freak accident while training to be space rangers, this trio of cadets has embraced the dark side as they experiment with their newfound powers. Can Space Ghost convince them to become the heroes they were destined to be? The fate of the galaxy depends on it!

Variant Covers

Note: Variant Prices To Be Determined By Retailer

AQUAMAN #30 (Liam Sharp variant) $3.99 BATMAN #35 (Tony S. Daniel 800 issue variant) $2.99 BATWOMAN #9 (Michael Cho variant) $3.99 BUG THE ADVENTURES OF FORAGER #5 (OF 6)(James Harren variant) $3.99 FUTURE QUEST PRESENTS #4 (Bill Sienkiewicz variant) $3.99 GREEN LANTERNS #35 (Brandon Peterson variant) $2.99 JUSTICE LEAGUE #33 (J.G. Jones variant) $2.99 NIGHTWING #33 (Yasmine Putri variant) $2.99 SUPER SONS #10 (Dustin Nguyen variant) $3.99 SUPERMAN #35 (Renato Guedes variant) $2.99 TRINITY #15 (Ben Oliver variant) $3.99 WILD STORM #9 (Bryan Hitch variant) $3.99 WILD STORM #9 (Jim Lee variant) $3.99 WONDER WOMAN CONAN #3 (OF 6)(Aaron Lopresti variant) $3.99

GRAPHIC NOVEL

AMERICAN WAY THOSE ABOVE AND BELOW #4 (OF 6) $3.99 BATMAN THE GOLDEN AGE OMNIBUS HC VOL 04 $75.00 BATWOMAN TP VOL 01 THE MANY ARMS OF DEATH (REBIRTH) $16.99 FLASH TP VOL 04 RUNNING SCARED (REBIRTH) $14.99 JUSTICE LEAGUE #1 SPECIAL EDITION $PI JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA REBIRTH DLX COLL HC BOOK 01 $34.99 LEGEND OF WONDER WOMAN ORIGINS TP $19.99 WONDER WOMAN TP VOL 04 GODWATCH (REBIRTH) $16.99

BOOKS

INCREDIBUILDS HARRY POTTER SORTING HAT DLX MODEL W BOOK $19.99 INCREDIBUILDS SUPERMAN DAILY PLANET DLX MODEL W BOOK $19.99 SUPERGIRL YA NOVEL AGE OF ATLANTIS $13.99

MERCHANDISE/COLLECTIBLES

BATMAN CLASSIC 60S 48 PIECE MAGNET ASST $PI DC HEROCLIX HARLEY QUINN GOTHAM GIRLS BOOSTER BRICK $129.90 DC HEROCLIX HARLEY QUINN GOTHAM GIRLS FAST FORCES 6PK $16.99 HARRY POTTER GRYFFINDOR MAGNET $5.99 HARRY POTTER HOGWARTS MAGNET $5.99 HARRY POTTER HUFFLEPUFF MAGNET $5.99 HARRY POTTER RAVENCLAW MAGNET $5.99 HARRY POTTER SLYTHERIN MAGNET $5.99 WONDER WOMAN MOVIE 144PC BUTTON ASST $PI WONDER WOMAN MOVIE 48 PIECE MAGNET ASST $PI

ACTION FIGURES/STATUES

BVS KNIGHTMARE BATMAN 100% BEA $PI DC BATMAN TAS FIG COLL #2 PENGUIN $20.00 DC COMICS BOMBSHELLS VIXEN STATUE $125.00 DC COMICS REVERSE FLASH HMF-048 AF $99.99 DC COMICS THE FLASH HMF-017 AF $99.99 DC COMICS THE GREEN LANTERN HMF-028 AF $99.99 DC GALLERY BATMAN TAS NEW ADV NIGHTWING PVC FIGURE $45.00 DORBZ DC AQUAMAN VINYL FIGURE $7.99 DORBZ DC SUPERGIRL VINYL FIGURE $7.99 JUSTICE LEAGUE BIG FIGS 201N AF ASST WV2 $24.99 MYSTERY MINIS TEEN TITANS GO 12PC BMB DISP $7.99 WONDER WOMAN TIARA BRACELETS LASSO PROP SET $300.00

CLOTHING

DNM MERCILESS SYMBOL T/S XL $19.95 DNM MERCILESS SYMBOL T/S XXL $22.95

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DC Comics Pull Box For 11-15-17 (New Comics and Merchandise) 99DC Comics News has compiled a list of DC Comics titles and collectibles shipping to comic shops for November 15, 2017.

[auswriteforyou]

Family Values. (Chicago Med/PD)

Ft The Halstead Bros and their little sister who is willing to do anything to protect them.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” The two boys stormed by her the moment she opened the door, shoving her up against the wood with their girth.

“Uh, hi guys. Nice to see you. My day was fine, how was yours?” She sassed, locking the door when her oldest brother glared at her for thinking that because she lived in a ‘safe neighbourhood’ that meant she could leave her door open.

“Don’t play that game with me right now. You have no idea how angry I am with you at the moment.” Will hissed, slamming down a redacted file that seemed like a case closed to her. “You went to Goodwin and told her it was you who ignored the DNR.”

“I’m not seeing a question in there anywhere.”

“Cool it,” Jay muttered, standing a step between her and Will as a buffer.

“That’s because it wasn’t a question. We all know you didn’t, Goodwin knows you didn’t but no one is willing to change their story so she has to go with yours. That puts the mark on you, that increases your insurance and -why are you shaking your head?” He demanded, pointing her out to Jay like she was some mysterious conundrum.

“Because I know what I did, but there isn’t going to be any discipline action against me bar a mark in my file. Not to brag, but I’m the best Neurosurgeon this side of the Mississippi. I bring in patients from all over and they have plastered my face in conjunction with the hospital so much that it’d be idiotic to slam me. ” She shrugged like it was no big deal, pulling some beers from the fridge because knowing them, they were probably going to stay the night.

“Wait, what?” Will questioned, knowing she was right about her about her status but not expecting her to be so open about it. “That is beside the point. This was my mistake and I should have been the one to deal with it.”

Sighing, she cracked open the bottle and handed it to him. She waited til he had it in hand before smacking him upside the head. He gaped at her, expression offended as he stumbled for what to say. Jay just raised an eyebrow, he knew better then to step between them.

“That’s the point Will. You were already on a short leash with the hospital, and this would’ve gotten you fired. I meant what I said, I can’t do this job without you so I took the hit knowing it wouldn’t effect me nearly as much as it would you.” She reached out, grasping his shoulder as she leveled her gaze with his. “You have spent your whole life protecting me. It was my turn.”

Turning her back on him, she shoved a bag of popcorn into the microwave like she hadn’t just squeezed both the boys’ hearts in her hand. But it was their universal sign for 'I’m done talking about this but I know you’ll bring it up later’ so they let it go.

“Why don’t you guys turn on the game? I will handle this as long as one of you gets more beers.” She jumped slightly when Will’s lips pressed to the crown of her head, the only thank you she would accept as she leaned into him slightly. “Go boys, move it or you’ll miss kick off.”

When she walked out of the kitchen, the screen was cued up to her favourite movie and a box of her favourite candy, which where did they get that from, we’re waiting for her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like sports, she just certainly didn’t like them as much as her brothers. Smiling to herself, she thanked her lucky stars that these were the men she got to share DNA with. If she was half as wonderful as they are, she would be pretty amazing.

“Okay, extra butter for Jay and M&M’s mixed in for Will.” She plopped between them, using Jay’s chest for a pillow and Will’s thighs to heat her chilled feet. They threw a blanket over them, Will reaching for the remote as Jay tried to snatch some of her popcorn despite having his own in his lap. “Beer me boys, it’s going to be a long night.”

They knew she would be conked out before the credits rolled.

–

it’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside…. im not one of those who can HANDLE THE HALSTEAD BROS.