#mostly just Virus Alert

[your-funky-squip-companion]

i cant get the vision of squip playing guitar to every computer-related song no matter how ooc it is

[warping-realities]

Online Scam - An OnlyFags Story

Inspired by the concept created by @johnbrand and @boysmentfs

Henry wasn’t having a good day; hell, it wasn’t even a good week or month. He had been stoked for college, ready to hit up new places and live it up, but the truth was that everything was turning into a total shitshow. His roommate was barely tolerable and he hadn’t made a single friend yet. All of this was messing with his head. But what really got to him was being totally broke, not having a dime to his name. His dad sent him a bit of cash, still stuck between being proud of having a son in college and feeling ashamed that son was openly gay. Henry, a name picked by his late mother, who passed down her delicate traits both physically and mentally, knew his dad earned that money busting his ass as a mechanic at a big car shop, and it didn’t come in large amounts, but surely he could send more than the pathetic little sum he was sending. The young man wondered if he’d get more cash if he had a sports scholarship instead of one for his grades.

While hunting for a side gig that could hook him up with some cash, Henry got blindsided by a new message alert on his computer screen. It wasn’t just the message itself; it was who it was from. Larry Thomas was in charge of the more complex systems at the car company where Henry’s dad worked. He was a relatively new hire, and Henry’s dad didn’t get along with the guy at all, with Henry only knowing him from the last company holiday party, since Henry’s dad didn’t want a “degenerate faggot” near his son. The irony of the situation was lost on the old man.

“Hey, kid, I heard your dad telling the guys he cut your funds to force you to man up or whatever. Maybe this will help you scrape together some cash!” the message from the man said, along with a link. Feeling like he had nothing to lose and pissed off at his dad, who he was now sure was punishing him for being gay, Henry clicked the link, which immediately started downloading some kind of app.

“Shit, I hope this ain’t a virus,” he muttered in front of the computer screen.

After loading, a logo popped up at the top: OnlyFags. What the hell was that? Some kind of joke from Larry? Did he team up with Henry’s dad just to humiliate him? Nah, that didn’t make sense; they hated each other. Still, Henry had caught a few looks from Larry directed at his dad that made him think there was some kinda unrequited attraction there… Before he could do anything, a text box popped up asking “Are you a creator or a user?” followed by two more boxes for a username and password. Henry’s computer acted on its own, typing in a sequence so fast he couldn’t read anything that was written or checked. The screen froze for a moment, a spinning circle indicating something was loading, and soon a bunch of boxes appeared on the screen with various profiles.

A massive shock hit Henry with what those profiles showed. He stared in horror and disgust at what they displayed. Mostly dudes between twenty and forty years old with their bodies on full display, playing with pierced nipples, licking feet, or even getting off in plain sight! He moved the mouse, intending to close that crap and delete that app from his computer ASAP.

But fear took over as, instead of shutting down that damn app, the mouse pointer moved on its own to click the profile button in the opposite corner of the screen. The screen loaded again, and there was a profile filled out for him— name, age, height, weight, shoe size, and even dick size. All of it wildly different from reality. A warning popped up quickly: “Your profile picture is outdated! Would you like to take a new one?”

A sudden wave of even greater horror washed over Henry as his hand clicked “yes.” The front camera opened, and his hand set the timer for twenty seconds before propping it against the headboard of the bed, moving to the other side. Almost robotically, he took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor before adjusting his pose for the camera. He moved, trying to get his foot in the shot while flexing one arm, not realizing he’d gained a bunch of pounds of pure muscle and that his delicate size 7 feet had ballooned to a more robust size 10.

Paralyzed and unable to move, he saw a message pop up on the computer screen. “New photo uploaded! Error!!! Photo does not match profile. Correcting parameters!” Scared, he quickly summoned the last bit of willpower he had and tried to get up and shut that app down once and for all, only to be shoved back by an invisible wall, with all the impact you’d expect from a high-speed crash. Dizzy and confused, he felt his face and body go through a sensation of distortion, and suddenly… nothing! The most complete emptiness reigned in his mind. He didn’t know who he was or even his own name. And he stayed like that for several seconds, staring into the inner void.

Until a new notification appeared on the screen, grabbing his attention. “Success! Parameters corrected; new profile picture published!” Immediately, likes started flooding in on his photo and profile, making him focus on the computer screen just as the computer camera turned on again and a live stream began.

He quickly, almost automatically, repositioned himself, flexing one of the powerful arms he’d just acquired. A notification on the app pinged: “New donation from DirtyFaggotMike.”

The app, once again on its own, opened a list of donations from various users with similar and usernames, ranging from small amounts to hundreds of dollars. Henry felt a rush of pride inside him as memories of all the degrading content about that kind of people and the outrageous amounts of cash received for it flooded his mind!

A new comment appeared in at the top of the page with a $100 donation. “Master, your giant hands turn me on; I’d love to be smothered by them.” Henry found himself talking automatically to the screen: “Keep dreaming, faggot. You’re lucky enough to be able to worship them from a distance!” he replied, grinning arrogantly as he admired his own flexed arm.

A part of Henry still intact, lost in the gigantic void that his memories had become, managed to feel mortified; he didn’t want any of those horrible messages to be received by him, let alone responded to that way. That little remaining fraction tried again to regain control, only to be shoved back as the being occupying his body massaged his powerful pecs and spoke laughing arrogantly while getting up: “Where’s my money, you fags? You won’t get shit from me if this account doesn’t start filling up!”

The next message he received was the reply he’d been waiting for—a private message from LickLuckyLarry. “Master Hunter, I’ve been one of your loyal followers for months and I want to pay a good amount to see you jerk off if it’s not too much audacity on my part.”

Henry… Hunter smiled at that message. With a smirk on his face, he replied, “Disgusting faggot. Of course, it’s a hell of a lot of audacity for a worm like you to ask me that! But it’s you pathetic beings that keep my wallet full. I’m willing to accept, but it’ll depend on how much you’re willing to pay for all this!” he replied, grinning wickedly as his hands roamed over his abs and thighs, tentatively close to his cock.

“Master, please,” the guy replied, “I’d do anything to see you work that giant cock until it explodes with your alpha jizz.”

“Great, let’s talk privately; don’t turn on the camera! I don’t wanna see that faggot face of yours, it’ll be hard enough to jerk off knowing a worm like you is watching! And as for the rest of you, take note, faggots, you should all aspire to be like him.”

He leaned forward and closed the live window, before before lying down in his bed and focusing on talking privately in his smartphone with the guy willing to pay to see him play with his own cock. “I said I didn’t wanna see that pathetic face of yours, faggot,” he said upon seeing the man’s face appear on the app chat screen.

“Sorry, Master Hunter, I couldn’t help it; I promise to pay you a much bigger sum, but I wanted to know if you remember me?”

“And why the hell would I remember a pathetic faggot like you?” Hunter asked with a wicked grin.

“Because I work with your dad and… you… you let me suck your cock at the last company holiday party!”

“And? You’re not the first little bitch I’ve let do that! There’s no shame in showing off a bit or even letting one of you kind pay for a blowjob in the absence of something better. And that whore secretary didn’t want to give me any… Anyway, don’t think you’ll get a discount just because you know my old man, and if you try to blackmail me, I’ll use these weapons to smother you in a way way different from what that other faggot wanted!”

“No, Master Hunter… it’s not that… it’s just that you look so much like your dad! You’re a twenty-years-younger copy of him… I… I’ll pay you a bigger sum… but can you refer to yourself as Master Rusty while you jerk off?”

“So you have a fetish for my old man, huh? You sick fuck! But I’m cool with that! Just keep that ugly mug off the screen and don’t you dare talk to me while I do what needs to be done!”

“Thanks, Master Rusty… just one more thing, that mustache you’re growing makes you look even more like your dad… if I may be so bold, I’d say you should keep it.”

“I’ve allowed too much boldness, you worm. Now let’s wrap this up. Camera off,” Hunter said as he laid back on the bed, the camera aimed at him.

“So you want a piece of old Rusty, huh? You little shit?” Hunter teased, while Henry’s little voice tried to fight against the wave of mockery and arrogance filling his mind.

“A new chance to suck that cock? Only in your dreams.” He continued, with vivid memories of orgies with various women and dozens of live streams and videos for desperate gay guys into humiliation flooding his mind.

“You can look and admire, you can worship me from a distance, but this here, this here you’ll never have again pathetic faggot,” he concluded before exploding with a huge load that covered his entire abdomen.

“Thanks for the grand, loser.”

He ended the call and saved a copy of the video showing only the upper part of his body, teasing the release the full presentation for his fans after they donated a good chunk of cash.

As he lay back down, distracted, thinking about the bizarre situation with a coworker of his dad’s and what Old Rusty would think if he found out where the money supporting his son extravagant lifestyle and his monthly allowances was coming from. In that moment of distraction what remained of Henry inside him made one last attempt to surface, somehow managing to miraculously regain a bit of control. Thinking about how to fix this, Henry looked at his body; however, he seemed… normal. His enormous size 15 feet were giving off a potent funk as always. His well-developed calves giving way to tree trunk thighs, while hanging between them was his pride, his massive 10-inch cock, with which he toyed a bit before continuing his investigation. His abs were chiseled like an 8-brick wall, and just above them were the two slabs of flesh that were his pecs. He grabbed his phone and opened the camera, seeing his face; indeed, a near-exact copy of his dad’s face, square and masculine. The overall impression was one of arrogance and disdain, which precisely defined his personality.

He dropped the phone and smiled, satisfied, as he rested his head on his powerful arms. “Damn, Hunter, you’re one hot piece of ass,” he said to himself. “These faggots will never get tired of you,” he concluded, knowing that with a body and a cock like his, money would never be a problem.

Hundreds of miles away from Hunter’s dorm, Larry was finishing up his third or fourth jerk-off session, this time looking at the gif that served as Hunter’s profile picture on the app. That, he thought, was the best decision he’d ever made, seeing the perfect copy of Rusty that Hunter had become, a copy willing to treat him in the degrading way he’d dreamed for months that his dad would do. As he reached orgasm, remembering all the insults and humiliations, he wondered to himself if there was a chance that the son of one of the other coworkers would fall into the same trap; well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, especially if the reward was as delicious as Hunter.

[eldritch-nightmare]

do the others know about you?

synopsis: you're just a human dating someone that's... well. you can certainly never introduce them to your friends or family. but do their friends/companions know about you?

a/n: is it a good idea to include every single creepypasta i can think of from the top of my head... no. will i do it anyway? yes, i will. anyways this right here is my pride and joy. i enjoyed writing it, and i'm proud of it, so i hope you guys enjoy it as well.

warnings: possessive behavior in a few, yandere behavior in a few, spoiler alert alex almost kills you but dw there's no character death here.

includes: jeff the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer [richardson + arkensaw], laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, the bloody painter, the puppeteer, clockwork, jason the toymaker, hobo heart, nurse ann, zalgo, x-virus, homicidal liu, ticci toby, tim wright, brian thomas, jay merrick, alex kralie, and jessica locke.

jeff the killer would more than likely tell the others about you, though mostly just so everyone knows that you're off limits for killing. he also just has this thing where he needs people to know what belongs to him so they know not to touch it, and in his mind, you belong to him so. none are allowed to touch you.

eyeless jack isn't that open about his personal life to others. mostly because he can't remember any of it, but also because he's just a guarded person in general. at most, the only people who know about you will probably be jeff, ben, and maybe sully.

jane richardson doesn't really hide your existence, mostly because she doesn't have contact with the others, so it doesn't matter. everyone of importance knows that you're together, and the government knows as well, so.

jane arkensaw would prefer certain people didn't find out about you, though she may tell some of her close friends about you if she's certain that they will keep your existence a secret as well. then again, it's not like you'll ever come into contact with any of the others so long as she has any say about it.

laughing jack more than likely lets everyone know about you because he literally can't shut up about you. he loves you! people need to know that he is so sickeningly devoted to you! even the kids he terrorizes know about you!

slenderman doesn't have any say on whether or not people learn about you because they're gonna find out anyways. besides, it's better if they did know about you because then they would know that you are off limits for killing. anyone who dares to even try to harm you will understand the pure wrath slender can bring down upon them.

nina the killer wants everyone to know about you. she needs everyone to know that you two are together and that she loves you so very much. she tells everyone all about the dates you two have and the gifts you get each other. it's cute, though it can be annoying at times.

the bloody painter doesn't interact much with the others, so not many of them know. helen doesn't really care if anyone finds out that he's dating you, it doesn't really matter to him. though... he will have some words if any of them try making a move on you or hurting you. you're his muse, after all.

the puppeteer doesn't want anyone to know about you, not even his proxies. you're his. no one else deserves to even know that you exist, so why the hell would he tell anyone about you? at most, the only person who knows about you would be emra because he knows that she won't tell anyone if he orders it.

clockwork doesn't let people close to her, so only a small handful of people would even know about you. she likes that none of the others really knows about you, though a part of her thinks about telling them so they know not to make you a victim. not that you'll ever become a victim, of course. she'll protect you from anything, don't worry.

jason the toymaker wouldn't want anyone to know about you. honestly, his whole thing is making sure that you belong to no one but him. you don't need anyone other than him, so why would he tell anyone about you? the others will know that he has someone in his life already, someone he'd burn the world down for, but they'll never know it's you unless they visit his toy shop.

hobo heart would be delighted if the others knew you were his. you have his heart, so it's only natural for everyone to know that you love each other, right? that's how relationships work. he doesn't really speak much with the others, but when he is around then he'll let everyone know who has his heart.

nurse ann is hardly ever around the others for them to even know about you. the only three to know of your existence is liu, sully, and helen because those are the only people she's close with. they don't need to know about you, it's not like they'll ever hurt you. trust me, she won't let them even if they were to try.

zalgo is just as surprised as everyone else that he's like... together. with you. shocks him every day, to be honest. but yes, he wants everyone to know you're his. he doesn't see you as a weakness, though he knows how fragile humans are so he makes sure you're safe from any that may cause you harm. it also sends a... delightful chill to the core of his existence knowing that everyone knows you belong to him.

x-virus basically needs everyone to know that you're together. not because he's possessive in any way, but because he needs to use this as a way to keep you with him. a tactic to keep you from leaving, if you will. with you dating cody, you're safe from harm. if you ever leave him, then you're no longer under his protection. so... stay with him.

homicidal liu is... hesitant, to put it simply. he doesn't particularly mind if the others find out, but he most certainly won't go out of his way to tell anyone. he doesn't want you involved in the darker parts of his life because he's worried about your safety. there are a few that he simply doesn't trust to know about you. sully, on the other hand, would love for everyone to know about you. he doesn't tell anyone because he respects liu's wishes to keep your existence a secret. though, he can't lie, it does make his heart race knowing that he and liu are the only ones who know about you.

ticci toby neither hid your relationship from people nor did he let anyone know about it. he's a naturally reserved person, so it wasn't like he was super open about himself with the others. in the beginning, the only one to know about you would probably be slender, but that's just because it's like... toby's boss, essentially. of course, those who were paying attention could see the signs.

tim wright would definitely keep your existence secret for as long as possible. the only person who knew about you in the beginning was brian, if we're being honest, and after all hell breaks loose, he'd do everything he could to keep you from getting involved. god forbid if jay or alex found out about you. jay would've used you to find him, and alex would've tried killing you.

brian thomas was open about his relationship with you, so everyone knew who you were. you even offered moral support to everyone filming marble hornets. of course, brian disappeared one day... and then you lost contact with alex... and tim was trying to move on with his life, so you didn't really keep in touch with him either. then jay came around, and... well. that led to a certain hooded figure watching you from afar.

jay merrick was neither open nor reserved about his relationship with you. he probably mentioned you early on in a few tapes, and he maybe even introduced you to alex when they were still friends. you'd probably be mentioned in casual conversation with tim, but ultimately it was a situation where if someone knew, they knew. and if they don't, then they just don't.

alex kralie was more reserved about his relationship with you. his closest friends knew, such as jay and brian, but that was about it. of course, once the operator entered the scene and alex started cleaning up loose ends, your life was endangered. alex... he wanted to kill you. he had to kill you. you suppose it's a good thing jay managed to find you before alex could.

jessica locke is obviously very open about her relationship with you. no need to keep it a secret, y'know? you two are like... the couple, y'know? everyone knows you're dating; you guys don't hide it. why would you two keep it a secret? there's no reason to.

[iamespecter]

I know you probably gave up on the Glamrock Chica AU as Gregory's guardian, but I personally think you should continue. Many people prefer to do it with Roxy or Monty, and there are very few with Chica as the guardian. I think this AU of yours has the potential to be very good.

sigh.... I still love Glamrock Chica...

but I feel like the whole universe is against me at this point for being a Chica fan and I just know that either 1.) no one's gonna pay attention to a Chica-based AU, or 2.) just shit on it because it doesn't match the popular headcanons.

So unfortunately, My Guardian Chica AU is cancelled.

If you would like to know the rough concept of it that I've written down because you're curious, then click "keep reading" to read below the cut.

The Guardian Chica AU is actually a simple morality test.

Beginning:

It starts off with the normal SB route: Freddy is the child's starting guardian, and he is helping the child escape. Chica is under Vanny's control, and is actively fighting against this, but is too powerless to break free from the virus' hold.

... Until Fazer Blast. Freddy and the kid find themselves on the catwalks, where a glitching Chica with an axe has them cornered. Freddy, not knowing how to end this peacefully, decides to bring Chica down with him while removing the chip that's causing her to be controlled in the first place.

Chica then wakes up, and Freddy is HEAVILY damaged because he (mostly) cushioned her fall. Chica, still not fully herself, hallucinates Freddy as Vanny; and she begins tearing him apart out of frustration and fear, ripping his head off because she wanted to see who was underneath the Vanny mask.

THIS is where the story begins. You take control of Chica (instead of a kid protagonist), where Chica must ensure the child's survival, and get them out in time for 6 AM. But there is a catch.

The more you use brute force, the more Chica's morality goes south. And you'll always have two choices, either which you:

Kill the Day and Nightcare Attendants to gain access to the Daycare, or use their environmental weaknesses (the light, and the darkness) to refrain them from catching the kid.

Eliminate the PARTY PASS BOTS to get into a venue much easier, or find PARTY PASSES, while avoiding the kid's hunters.

Destroy SECURITY BOTs to lessen chances of the kid getting spotted, or use the BOTs' blind spots strategically to prevent them from alerting anyone.

Refrain from attacking Roxanne Wolf and let her take one of the chicken's eyes, or defend yourself and damage Roxanne Wolf enough to send her running back.

You will then encounter Montgomery Gator, who is now guarding Gator Golf with an iron fist. Monty will taunt Chica for the remainder of the boss fight:

either telling her how WEAK and COWARDLY she is because she isn't fighting back (Peaceful route);

being confused about her methods because it feels like she's constantly changing her mind (neutral route);

or praising her for finally, FINALLY using her features for something "worthwhile" (morally numb route).

But regardless of what path Chica has chosen, Monty will end up revealing a morbid truth as yet another taunt: that he killed Bonnie, because he wanted his spot in the band. And that he'd kill Bonnie over and over again, if it meant he would remain popular. That now Freddy has been reduced to nothing but a head, HE'LL be the number ONE.

And regardless of what path Chica has chosen, Monty will ALWAYS end up dead.

and depending on how much you've been using brute force, Freddy's head will either:

Be BEYOND mortified by Chica's decision to kill Monty without mercy, but believes she can still refrain from doing this in the future (peaceful route)

is taken aback by Chica's decision to kill Monty without mercy, and is starting to doubt Chica's capacity of ensuring the kid's safety (neutral route)

Gets angry at Chica's decision to kill Monty without mercy, and refrains from speaking to her. (morally numb route)

Roxanne Wolf is then up next, and depending on how you reacted to earlier choices, you can either:

Convince Roxanne that she doesn't have to do this, that she doesn't have to keep living under Vanny's shadow out of fear and don't strike her (peaceful, only possible if you let Roxanne take Chica's eyes)

Fight and defeat Roxanne but spare her, making her go rogue and not choosing any side between Vanny or Chica (neutral)

Kill Roxanne emotionally and physically, taking her eyes as revenge (morally numb, only possible if you defend yourself)

ENDINGS/POSSIBLE ROUTES

The "MORALLY NUMB" ending (bad):

You chose the easier path and ignored Freddy’s plea, let Chica kill Security Bots to keep the kid safer in the plex, kill Roxy as well out of pure anger for taking out her eye, and take her upgrades for yourself.

Freddy begins to be distrustful of Chica, and soon even resent her and her actions at the end.

This leads to Vanny getting killed, but not without consequence.

Freddy will ask Chica to leave him behind instead of following her any longer. He can’t bear to see the monster that has become of his friend, and Chica will comply with his request, leaving Chica numb.

Chica’s objective becomes less and less of keeping the kid safe, and more of the desire to get revenge after what happened to her and Bonnie.

Semi-open ending.

"You were no better than them. Better to leave me here to rot, than to accompany you on your bloodlust." - Freddy

The "GUITAR HERO" ending (neutral):

You chose to listen to Freddy’s plea, Chica retains her moral codes, and keep the kid safe the harder way.

Vanny is turned in to the authorities to be helped with her mind control situation, and her plans are thwarted until a new "Vanny" shows up.

Chica DOES NOT manage to get Roxy in your side, and Roxy will act rogue, picking no sides this time.

The Pizzaplex does not burn down. Instead, Monty, Chica and Freddy are replaced by Mr. Hippo, Happy Frog, and Nedd Bear.

Chica, Freddy and the kid runs away from the plex to live on their own, but still end up dying via energy depletion.

"You promised to stay with me... why did you lie instead?" - the kid

The "SUPER POPSTAR" ending (good):

You chose to listen to Freddy’s plea, Chica retains her moral codes, and keep the kid safe the harder way.

Uncover the shady past of Fazbear Entertainment, uploading their dirty secrets onto the internet, shutting them off for good. (this guarantees this ending)

Vanny is turned in to the authorities to be helped with her mind control situation, and her plans are thwarted for good this time, no Vanny comes replacing the old one.

Chica progressively gets more and more damaged as time goes on.

Chica manages to get Roxy on your side.

The Pizzaplex burns down.

Chica deactivates amidst the flames, with Freddy by her side at the very, very end.

The route ends with Roxy and the kid finding Chica’s body after the fire, and she takes her head along with Freddy’s.

The most ambiguous ending out of the three.

"Don't blame yourself kid. It's not what they would've wanted you to think. Not what she would want you to think. (...) We'll find a way. That's a promise." - Roxy

....Yeah, the Guardian Chica AU has no happily-ever-after ending. Sorry.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

the post-ruin Readerbot AU, where Readerbot wakes up from a nice lil nap to. Well. Ruin. And two new,, friends?

You were in a charging stasis during the events of Security Breach and were trapped there until the events of Ruin, completely unaware of what's happened. You remember the animatronics beginning to act oddly, and, of course, Moon, and maybe a weird security guard, but waking up to the 'Plex in shambles, the Glamrocks far beyond broken, and not a single human person in sight... That's a bit jarring, to say the least.

The very first thing you are greeted with upon powering on is, of course, a couple thousand error codes and 'emergency repair' alerts that have just been waiting for you to turn on to bombard you with a nice helping of sensory overload <3 The next? A mini musicman running at you full speed, not slowing down or swerving, hitting you directly in the shins and knocking you flat on your ass. Congrats! Your head has been re-broken. Welcome back to the pizza-plex, bitch. :)

You wander around the 'plex, too confused and shocked by the, y'know, everything, to even begin to think about what they should panic over first. You cross paths with Chica, who doesn't even acknowledge you, and Monty, who only growls as you pass by, then... You stop in your tracks. Technically, you've never been in the daycare, it was always off-limits. But a lot of your old protocols have expired... And you've always been curious...

You barely step into the ruined-daycare before nearly being knocked over by a familiar, and equally as unfamiliar, attendant.

Eclipse assumes you are there to help clean up the daycare! And he's so polite, and he reminds you a lot of Sun, with a little of Moon's mischievousness (this, admittedly, is much more harmless than Moon's had been, but the comparison is still there)...

Y- yeah of course you're there to help! Just lead the way!!

Eclipse seems extremely relieved to have someone to talk to- he must not be used to being on his own?- and, really, he ends up not... letting you do much. He doesn't want you to wear yourself out, and that's much to heavy to ask you to carry, and what if something fell or broke and you got damaged?? Management hasn't been answering any messages yet, who knows how long it would be until they could get you fixed properly!! :( (Mostly you just stand there and nod as he talks, or maybe holding something small and unimportant while he does the actual work. It's... endearing, but your inner staffbot is restless and sad at having nothing to do.)

Eventually, you come up with a compromise- you'll be his emotional support assistant while he works on fixing up the daycare, in the mean time, you'll fix the electrical issues and patch him up as you find more and more materials to do so. He seems pleased enough, and, you realize after a while, starts to really like being fixed up.

Then, one day, while scavenging around, you find a busted arcade cabinet. You go to take a look to see if it has anything worth repurposing, and the next thing you know you're waking up on the floor in front of cabinet as it smolders and melts. Well, there wasn't likely to be anything worth taking, anyway.

You realize later that you've picked up a sort of... virus. It's more like you picked up another passenger, a new voice to live inside your own head when before there had been just yours.

He's... strange. It takes him a little while to realize that you can hear him and respond to his voice, but when he does, he seems pleased. He's not exactly a chatterbox in the same way Eclipse is, but he has lots of questions and lots of ideas. The only issue is, well, to be honest, they aren't very good.

It surprises you, the first time he tells you to do something. "Push him over the edge," he demands as you stand behind Eclipse on top of one of the taller structures in the daycare. It wouldn't decommission him, but it would surely break at least one of his limbs. No, no, that was a bad idea, you thought to yourself. "But he's always been more loved than you, hasn't he? Don't you just want to see him suffer even just a fraction as much as you have over these years? Don't you want to break him to a dozen little, helpless pieces?"

Well, no, not really.

"Fine. Have it your way. One of these days, he's going to hurt you, just as he did before. And you're going to WISH you had listened to me."

When you finally got to the point of realizing this other voice WAS an entire other AI currently residing in the slim gaps yours left behind, one of the first things you did was ask him what he was called. It seemed only polite, after all.

"Eclipse."

Huh. That was going to get confusing.

[tricerapor12]

When Ruin said "Would be nice to sleep for once" on the villain podcats, i assume he didn't or just rarely slept or recharge. Which is fair, the guy probably never had a moment of peace in his life, eve since the virus started knocking on his dimension's door step and is always alert to his surroundings to not get jumped. (And like the whole acting crazy to be able to survive in his dimension, ploting and researching how to destroy the Creator's Council while trying not to get found out, searching for D Sun, and the whole Nexus stuff etc. So yeah Ruin didn't get too much sleep thats for sure)

I think he would do like mostly 5 minutes rest before waking himelf up right away.

Now he's in the eaps dimension where of course is not safe eather for him.

But he met Ballora at least and they are somewhat friends now?

Like the idea of that they just hanging out at tea parties in Ballora's room and just talking with eachoter. And its safe there, not fully but enough, and finally in his life he could just relax a little and probably would start dozing off which maybe makes him panic a little.

But its okey its safe but he think its not and its just creates an internal fight with himself.

Idk im just word vomiting here and nowadays im so focused on Ruin, but the idea is there at least.

[turtledudeextreme16]

Monty is good

So all the theories and discussion I’ve seen about Monty under the influence of the virus is mostly all just stuff like, “He was pure evil” or “He was too far gone” but I don’t think that's the case.

At the start of Ruin we all know that we get jumpscared by Monty when he exits the pipe, causing Cassie to fall into the water. This might not seem like anything in particular but, why didn’t Monty kill us? He would have fallen into the water with us, as we see him in the next location - Monty Golf. So if he was in the water with us, why didn’t he attack us? He would have been easily able to, since Cassie blacked out for a moment. Following this, when Cassie wakes up, Monty is nowhere to be seen. He ran away and hid in that little wood house thing we see a bit later on. Monty had an easy shot to kill Cassie, twice, but didn’t take it.

Only a little bit later, we see Monty run out from a small wooden log thing. He runs over some boxes and then disappears. If we keep moving forward, he is nowhere to be seen. He heard that we were getting closer to him and ran away again. Then, if you go over to the caravan thing in one of the corners, there is a trolley bin full of ball pit balls. If you look closely, you can see Monty’s hand sticking out of them. And it can’t be a normal Endo hand because why would there be Endo’s in Monty golf and the hand is identical to Monty's. He is hiding from us, just like he was in the wooden log.

The only reason he attacks us later in the game is because the M.X.E.S program is controlling the animatronics and alerting them that someone is deactivating the security. Like Freddy says in the base game, none of the bots are capable of hurting a guest.

Monty wasn’t pure evil or too far gone to be saved, he was trying to stay away from Cassie. He didn’t want to kill her or hurt her. Honestly he was probably scared of her. There is also graffiti in the Pizzaplex saying, “I stayed the night and lived”. Clearly the animatronics weren’t attacking people, and the graffiti is all the way in Monty golf and deep in the pizzaplex, meaning the bots would have been around. Plus, I don’t think the police or other people would let the place be still standing and have active bots walking around if people were being killed in there.

[ashiemochi]

ASHIE ASHIE ASHIE

MY BEST FRIEND, MY BELOVED CAN I PLEASE, PLEASE REQUEST AN ANGRY! LEON SMUT FROM YOU WHERE READER DOES SMTH STUPID DURING A MISSION OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT?

JUST SOMETHING UNTIL THE NEW FIC COMES OUT

<3 i keep getting carried away with this guy, whoops-

you knew better than to go against your orders - direct orders.

Leon Scott Kennedy was the captain of your squad of five. Each one of your teammates had a specific job to do; one was in charge of scooping out the area. Two had his hands on the strongest of weapons, and mostly explosions. The third and fourth were on Leon's side, guns drawn with attentive eyes - leaving you the fifth; in charge of keeping watch on any oncoming enemy.

"Do not engage. You alert us and we can handle it from there - you understand?"

And you did - but why not engage?

You six were sent to a rural city in Russia, Dargavs Village - balls deep in the winter season. The weather was freezing your tits off but you had to stay put for the sake of the mission. You had gotten a tip that a possible virus was in the making, early stages and whatnot, right underground.

Leon and the rest of your squad went inside the building, leaving you alone with nothing but a flaregun. Your captain could've provided something to keep you warm but no, all you had was a hot pack - that had long gone cold - and your lukewarm coffee in your hydro flask.

It happened all too fast. One second you were keeping an eye out when you noticed numerous snowmobiles stop by the little house, and the next was you alerting your captain frantically. He was alarmed by your tone and told you they were moving out - and judging by his tone, you knew he needed more time to find the research files.

You wished you were the one with heavy ammunition. Your flaregun was for emergencies and you only had three bullets. You picked up the giant duffle bag next to you; it was for your partner - the one with the firearms. When you zipped it open, your eyes widened in glee at the rocket launcher.

You barely voiced your plan to Leon who was instantly against it.

"You keep gathering information - I got this."

"No, Y/N! Do not engage!"

"This is our only shot, Leon! They're too many, they'd wipe you all out!"

"And you can take them out?! This is a direct order - you will get yourself killed!"

"Tell Johnny I'll pay him back for the RPG."

That was the last thing Leon heard before loud rumblings shook the ground. The speed at which he ran out left his squad panting when he reached the open air only to see a massive wave of snow toppling down the mountain. The houses were sturdy enough, made of bricks and cement so he was safe.

How in the fuck did you cause an avalanche?

In the distance, he saw snowmobiles speeding after a white specific mobile - it was you. He ordered your squad to stay inside one of the tallest buildings before sprinting down to hide behind a wall and take down the three masked men, stealing one of the snowmobiles and going after you.

It was one of the most horrible moments with it happening in less than five minutes but seemingly lasting an eternity. When the avalanche had settled down, having taken out most of those minions, Leon was growing concerned by the second, yelling out your name as his eyes scanned the aftermath. Several snowmobiles were poking through the heavy rug of white and something churned in his stomach.

Then there it was; a red bullet flying into the air.

Leon found you hiding behind one of the many trees in the forest, breathing heavily at the adrenaline. You were unscathed. At first, Leon was utterly relieved to see you were okay, the next though...

Well, it led you to this very moment in the confines of the warm hotel room.

To say you were overstimulated was an understatement. Your lips were swollen from your attempts to not be too loud at the merciless rutting of his hips. Your hands were gripping the sheets of your bed, mewling helplessly.

Leon was behind you, having you in a standing doggy position, as he fucked you harshly. You really should've known better than to piss your own captain off - your husband. One of his hands was wrapped around your throat and the other was pressed flat to your back to keep you arched, making you feel every inch of his cock.

"Every goddamn mission," Leon snarled, throttling himself deeper, "You always gotta go against orders, don't you?"

He was mad, you knew that. You fully believed it was valid but then again, you managed to save your team and get the information needed for the assignment. You gave yourself a pat on the back for this and Leon chose to teach you a lesson instead. You weren't entirely refusing it, though.

"Leo- oh, fuck!" You moaned, your arms beginning to shake at the intense pounding. Your poor cunt was quivering at this point, having edged to hit cloud nine god knows how many times. You were never the type to keep count.

"Mmh," Leon muffled his groan, hungry eyes trailing down to the way your pussy swallowed him whole, "Your body listens to me more than you - look at you taking all of me, fuck..."

"I don't think you even deserve to cum," A dark chuckle, "At least not with my cock."

"Please!" You pleaded, eyes snapping wide open with a gasp when a slap left your ass cheek stinging.

Leon sent another smack, the sound echoing in the room, as his thrusts did not relent nor falter. You were up in the clouds, biting your tongue to hold back your shrieks. The action sent you gushing more around him, and he hissed when your walls clenched and contracted his dick.

"So fucking messy..." He chastised, squeezing a handful of your cheek to soothe the burn and he looked up at you, releasing your neck to tug on your hair.

Your moan died up in your throat when he towered over you, sinking himself to the hilt. His eyes bore into yours intently.

"You sure know how to keep me on edge, huh?" He snapped lowly, "How do you think I'd feel if my own wife was along those bastards that died in the snow?"

"It was to, ah, keep you," You whimpered, closing your eyes for a moment, "To keep you safe. I led them away, to save you."

"Isn't that what you taught me and the rest of the team?"

A whisper.

Leon's eyes softened but remained in their sharp icy nature, voice heavy with concern masked with frustration.

"You shouldn't have done that, either way. I'm your captain, you listen to direct orders."

"Yeah," You managed to nod, looking up at him, "But you're also my goddamn husband."

The DSO agent's rage shook, tipping over like a volcano. You were always so stubborn - and he loved that about you. It saved him and deemed the mission a success. He could've lost you that day, making him grow anxious at the mere thought of ever not having you by his side anymore.

You may not have known as you were in the shower, but he was seriously about to tear up. When you had gotten out and only joked about how you almost became like the Winter Soldier from the Marvel comics, that thread of restraint snapped.

"Damn it," Leon's cock resumed pulsing into your starving cunt and letting go of your hair to grip your hips with both hands, "You're a fucking menace."

Your body shook with each thrust, moaning into the air with little to no care about any other hotel room. Warmth was starting to bubble within you, alerting you of your upcoming orgasm. Your legs shook to keep you standing.

Leon grunted through gritted teeth, feeling your walls tightening around him and he quickly slipped himself out right before you came.

"No! Please, let me cu-" You cried out, believing he was denying you yet another high but his lith middle and ring fingers replaced his cock.

"Oh shit! Leon~!" You squeaked as he finger fucked you noisily. His other hand stayed on your lower back to keep you still, pumping in and out purposefully that sent stars flashing in front of your eyes.

The pleasure that hit you was massive - exactly like that avalanche. Except it was searingly hot and shook you to the core. You gushed and gushed, cum dripping to the floor as the clear texture splashed and coated his hand and your inner thighs.

Your arms gave out and your legs nearly followed if it weren't for Leon to pull out and push the back of your thighs so you were on your chest and knees on the mattress.

You breathed heavily, audibly whining at the lingering climax. All that edging might as well blinded you but you soon found out your eyes were only closed.

"Happy?" Leon hummed, a smirk on his lips as he lathered his dripping hand over his rock-hard cock, pumping himself a couple of times.

Your gasp hitched in your throat when you felt that delicious stretch of his giant cock slid right back inside with long and deep strokes. His chest pressed down on your back, his dry hand finding its place around your neck right under your jaw, as he hovered over you.

Leon tilted your head up, diving himself deeper till his heavy sack brushed the inside of your thighs. Your hooded eyes were hazy, faint moans escaping through your lips.

"Did you learn your lesson, baby?" Leon's voice sent shivers down your spine and that loving glint in his eyes was more apparent than ever.

A smile itched the corner of your lips, giggling breathlessly, "I don't know - I wasn't listening."

"Oh, you cheeky..." His chuckles rumbled through his chest, shaking his head as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, "Guess I have to go from the top, huh?"

"Guess you have to."

You shouldn't have gone against direct orders - but for nights like this, you'd go against the President himself.

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Days 17 "Brain Fog/Spaced Out" and 22: "You didn't use my cup, did you?"

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Woozi, Jun, ??

Caregiver(s): Seventeen

Word Count: 1,433

Notes: Coming in late on the 22nd with a double-hit Sicktember fill! There's less exposition here, which feels weird to me, but I think it's a good exercise for me to tell a story without belaboring every little detail. Let me know if you agree/disagree! Also, this scene is an elaboration of a one-off comment made in a longer Seventeen piece I have in the works.

To say that Jihoon didn’t feel good was actually a gross misrepresentation of the facts. Jihoon felt horrible. His throat was on fire, his head was pounding, his limbs were heavy and achy and he wanted to separate them from his body until they could get their act together. But deadlines couldn’t wait for his immune system to throw a bitch fit. 

“Jihoon, I think you might have strep,” Seungcheol said, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. This was the third time the leader had interrupted him in the past hour, and Jihoon was personally over it. 

“Sucks.” Jihoon continued to click around on his computer. Admittedly, he wasn’t doing anything: his head had started hurting god knows how long ago, and he hadn’t been able to write or compose anything of substance. But Seungcheol didn’t need to know that. 

“Hyung, come on.” When had Vernon arrived?! “You’re not weaseling out of this. Channie and I could hear you coughing all night.”

“Jihoon, you need to go with a manager to get tested for strep and other things cause if you do have that and stay here and infect us all, the comeback will be postponed,” Seungcheol added. Jihoon snapped his chair around to face them. Did his best not to fall over from the dizziness that resulted from such a dramatic choice. 

“Fine.” Jihoon spun back around, clicked the necessary ‘save’ buttons, and powered off his computer. The third spin back towards his members was what he would later say did him in, when in fact it was the combination of all the spins, lack of water, and the fever. 

As he stood up, Jihoon stumbled forward. Vernon caught him instantly. Could the kid teleport now? When the fuck did he get so close? 

“You good?”

“I’m just… I feel…”

Vernon smirked. “Woozy?” His lips pressed tightly together to hold back a laugh at his own joke, especially when under the scrutiny of Jihoon’s sharpest glare. 

“Be nice, Nonie,” Seunghceol chided, but his smile said otherwise. Jihoon suddenly wished he wasn’t already wearing a mask to potentially infect both of them with this demon virus and wipe those stupid smirks off of their faces. But almost as instantly as he’d had that thought, he realized just how mean it was, and nearly apologized aloud to Seungcheol and Vernon as the two of them so kindly gathered up his things and accompanied him to the company van. Maybe this really was a demon virus… 

Tests at the hospital revealed it was, in fact, strep throat. 

Seungcheol smirked at his phone when Jihoon texted him immediately upon receiving the results: “I am setting a timer and will be back in the studio exactly 24 hours after I take that first dose of medication.” 

“I would expect nothing less,” the leader texted back. He then set about quickly alerting the members to Jihoon’s condition, warning them to leave the producer alone (partially to avoid contagion, mostly to protect them from the wrath of a Jihoon barred from his work). 

*

Jihoon was not back in the studio 24 hours later. Even though he technically wasn’t contagious anymore, he still felt terrible. His fever didn’t budge for two days despite the antibiotics and the attempted ministrations of the members. He was dizzy, disoriented, and breathless from coughing so much. The sore throat was the worst, though, too painful for him to even speak the day after his diagnosis. Jihoon had spent a good part of that day in tears, unable to explain anything or ask for help, both of which he hated on a regular basis. 

But on the third day, something clicked. His body finally got its shit together, and by day four, he was up and about, ready to return to his regularly scheduled programming, albeit with eleven worried pairs of eyes constantly checking up on him. 

Said worried eyes were the reason he wasn’t dancing today. The vocal and hip hop units were gathered together in the main practice room, the performance unit called early to clarify some choreography notes in a smaller studio before joining them. Seungcheol had insisted that Jihoon not push himself too hard yet, take at least a day to simply watch, observe, and critique the new routines they’d been working on. Jihoon hadn’t complained; dancing tired him out on a good day, and he certainly didn’t want to risk the brain fog making a comeback. So here he was, sat on a chair, legs crossed as he watched his members’ tomfoolery. 

Jihoon’s vantage point from the front of the room also meant he saw the performance unit members before the rest. Which meant that he saw Junhei before Seungcheol. Which meant that Jihoon’s stomach dropped to the floor in a way that had nothing to do with his prior illness. 

It was Joshua would noticed the performance unit next, clocking the mask and tired eyes the eldest dancer was sporting. “Junnie, you good?” All eyes moved towards the doorway. 

Jun shrunk a bit from the attention, but he smiled disarmingly. Minghao’s hand rubbed soothingly at his lower back. “Yeah, just have a bit of a sore throat. Could be overuse or just a one off thing, but I know Jihoonie just had strep so… we’re wearing the mask and chilling to the side, and I’ll tell you the second it gets worse.” 

Soonyoung clapped the dancer on the back, and pointed dramatically at him, eyes locked on Jihoon. “Now that’s what you call responsible.” Jihoon rolled his eyes. With a quick look at Seungcheol and Jeonghan, Joshua stood and pressed a gentle hand to Jun’s forehead. Worry etched on his face, Joshua’s hands moved to Jun’s neck, softly probing his lymph nodes. 

“Yeah, they’re swollen, alright,” the older man commented, lips pouting sympathetically. “I’m definitely not a doctor, but I think it’s safe to assume strep.”

“You didn’t use Woozi’s cup, did you?” Jeonghan asked. “Cause… how on earth could he have even gotten you sick?” Junhei shrugged, looking slightly just as lost as the rest of them. “We’ve had Jihoonie quarantined for like, four days. I mean, except for the bathroom, I guess, but we were so diligent about cleaning…”

“Right, he hasn’t been anywhere near you this-“ Seungcheol was cut off by an apocalyptic gasp from Jihoon. “What?!”

The leader had never seen Jihoon’s eyes so wide. “That wasn’t my toothbrush.” 

“What?”

“I was super dizzy the other night.” He pinched the spot between his eyes. “It was so late, I turned on the wrong light. I just grabbed the first green toothbrush I saw. It wasn’t my fucking toothbrush. It was Junhei’s.” 

Seungcheol felt his entire body deflate as his mind ran in several conflicting circles. His confusion wasn’t helped when Mingyu burst out laughing. And then Vernon. And then Seungcheol couldn’t tell who, cause several members were falling into hysterics. 

“Guys, this isn’t funny!” the leader exclaimed. 

“Actually, hyung, this is comedy gold,” Soonyoung replied, wiping a tear from his eye. “Like… this would only happen to us.”

“Contagion by toothbrush? I mean, come on!” Seungkwan shook his head. “That’s a sitcom scene right there. How is this our real life?”

“It would only happen to us, that’s for sure,” Minghao nodded. His hand hadn’t left Junhei’s back this entire time, and he now shifted so that that arm was around the older dancer’s shoulders. “I’m sorry it’s at your expense though…”

Jun shrugged. “Honestly, I’m just happy to have provided you all some joy today.”

“Stop!” Jihoon cried from across the room. He hid his face in his hands for a moment before glaring up at Jun. “Don’t be all cute and fine with this. Be angry with me.”

Jun shook his head. “I’m not mad at you, Jihoonie-ah. It was an accident, and antibiotics and popsicles exist, so I’m not super worried about that, but…”

“You should yell at him for the fun of it, though,” Soonyoung interrupted. 

“Yeah, I’d rather not yell at all.” Jun’s fingers touched at the base of his throat. “But, I do feel it’s important to say that… umm, my toothbrush was in the wrong spot again this morning.”

“Wait… what?” Minghao blinked, along with the rest of the members. They could see Jun blushing behind his mask. 

“My toothbrush was in the wrong spot again this morning,” he repeated cautiously. 

“Well, who else has a green toothbrush?” Jihoon asked, eyes darting around the room. 

Mingyu, who’d been sitting on the floor, flung himself onto his back, hands pressed over his eyes. “OH FUCK!” 

[jam-showtoonz]

Moon! (My AU)

Moon sometimes unintentionally acts rather cold towards his siblings- mostly to Sun -after Solar ‘died’. He always apologies, sometimes he doesn’t realise though. Earth and Lunar always point it out when he does this whilst Sun just laughs it off and dwells on it later.

His left eye started glitching after his talk with the old Moon, it’s been pointed out to him but he just dismisses and ignores it. Sun believes it’s connected to why Moon is being a lot more distant.

Sun is fully aware Moon is up to something, he just doesn’t know what. He is slightly convinced things are going back to how they used to be before Moon got his memories wiped. It scares him.

Probably around the time Ruin had come back Moon found a purple gem on the floor where Solar disappeared from. He’s sure it means something but any time he’s tried testing it he just gets a bunch of errors or incepted messages. He has found out that it’s sending alerts somewhere though.

On that note- C been getting notifications that someone is messing with a Catalyst Gem or Void Gem as they are also called. They aren’t necessarily dangerous unless someone uses them in ways they shouldn’t be. C set their computer to track where the signature came from- which takes up to 3 days -whilst they decide to show both Solar and Astro the closes dimension to them- the human one.

(Ngl I might draw some stuff to do with Solar seeing the human dimension- this would include a human Solar drawing)

(Sorry this took so long- I have no clue how to write or draw Moon and as of later I’m not sure if he’s just losing it, his KillCode is coming back, or if he’s infected himself with the Ruin Virus and not told anyone.)

(Also can I just point out that he has literally broken his promise to Sun- ya know- the one about talking to him before doing crap- I’m going to beat Moon over the head istg)

(Also doing a digital drawing of the drawing in the corner. It’ll be done at some point if I don’t lose motivation on it.)

[johannestevans]

currently miserable bc i have some sort of cold or virus, and it's hit me JUST as my last joint flare-up was clearing up, so it's rendered me unable to go anywhere when i was finally feeling ready to be cheerfully going places again and socialising out of the house

the thing is it's genuinely so mild. it's a sore throat and a cough and a bit of joint pain, but not nearly as bad as other little bugs have been inflammatory - obviously not something i want to run about town passing about to people, but nothing extreme in terms of symptoms for me at home

EXCEPT

that fuck me, is it hitting my brain. my sinuses are bad and i've just had pretty mild but CONSTANT and throbbing headaches, and it's just completely shot my ability to concentrate on anything remotely complex for any length of time, my short term memory is even more disastrous than usual, and so on

and so i'm not feeling fatigued, i'm not very tired, i'm sort of active and alert, but i can't do 80% of my household tasks without fucking them up several times, writing is agonising when it's not clumsy and mostly it IS clumsy and difficult

so i'm just bouncing off the walls between coughs

[blogthebooklover]

My Theories/Takes On The Next Two Movies In The "Noa" Trilogy.

I'm mainly focusing on the current "Noa" trilogy (hopefully) for the reboot Planet of the Apes franchise. There are also some takes/theories I would like to see happen in the next two movies, or being inspired from other films. I mentioned some of these scenes on discord, and I'm including other ones as well. Keep in mind, this is all just for fun.

Noa Gets Captured a la King Kong Style

If the second movie focuses on mostly Mae's arc after the end of Kingdom, I imagine a scene similar to King Kong 2005 (didn't Owen Teague also mention this is one of his favorite movies?) Maybe Noa is trying to get Mae back for whatever reason, however, her colony sets up a trap for him and Mae tries all that she can to not see him get hurt, and this time by her human companions.

And maybe a following scene where Mae meets Noa a la Disney's Pocahontas.

2. Mae and Noa Reunion

I imagine a scene similar to Spirited Away when Mae and Noa reunite in the second (or maybe third) movie. Whether this happens before or after Noa gets captured, I'm not sure, but I digress. Plus, didn't Wes Ball mention he's also a fan of Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli movies?

3. Mae and/or Noa Gets Hurt/Saved

Okay, for this one I imagine three or four different scenes.

First: a scene similar to the ending of James Cameron's Avatar; when Neytiri saves Jake's human form in the trailer. I imagine this can work vice versa between Mae and Noa, and maybe at the end of third movie. Most likely to be closer to this version.

Second: a scene similar to the ending of Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. Specifically the scene where Ben/Kylo saves Rey with the use of his force. I imagine a scene like this happening in the third movie as well.

Third: a scene similar to Peter Pan 2003. Specifically the final fight scene. Once again, more likely to happen in the third movie.

Fourth, and saved this one for the last part in this section: a scene similar to The Fox and the Hound, and yes, THAT SCENE! Once again, this could work vice versa (Mae stepping in to protect Noa, and/or Noa stepping in to protect Mae). I can imagine a scene like this happening in either the very end of the second film, or perhaps the third.

4. Noa Has a Whole Monologue Moment

SPOILER ALERT: this is from Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, and imho this is SUPERB A+++ WRITING AND ACTING from Roddy McDowall, Harry Rhodes, and screenwriter Paul Dehn (Owen Teague has to show OFF his acting abilities). I imagine a scene of Noa giving a monologue about protecting his kind, maybe at the end of the second movie.

Side Note: I also highly recommend buying the Blu Ray compilation pack of the OG franchise, it has some great behind-the-scenes features/documentaries, and I especially recommend watching the one about Conquest.

5. Noa, Anaya, Soona & Mae Find A Recording of Will Rodman

This was in my head for a while now, I mentioned this on a discord server, and this is something I can totally see happening maybe at the end of the sequel or some time in the third movie. The trio and Mae find a video recording of Will (James Franco) confessing that HE was the one that caused the Simian virus, that it was originally supposed to be a cure for dementia/Alzheimer's. While he was taking care of both his father Charles (John Lithgow) who was sick from Alzheimer's, and eventually his adoptive son Caesar (Andy Serkis) who was born with the ALZ112 in his system due to his mother being one of the test subjects for the cure; Will reveals he became determined to continue working on the medicine to help eradicate Alzheimer's altogether.

He was working on something that was supposed to help society, not destroy it and cause the downfall of humankind. And because he couldn't take it any longer of seeing his own father regressing further into his illness.

After everything that happened in Rise, to the beginnings of the Simian pandemic, and eventually Caroline's death during the full swing of the virus, he sets up his video camera system on his computer and gives his last confession before either dying of the virus himself; or perhaps (TW) taking his own life (possibly off-camera).

And after the recording is finished playing, the quartet are stunned in complete and utter shock of this revelation. Now obviously, Mae knew about the virus, however, she had absolutely no idea about its true origins until this point; or her authority figures from the bunker KNEW, but kept it as restricted knowledge for only the higher ups to access, while the rest of the surviving humans only know what they were taught from their history lessons (sound familiar?). Meanwhile, this information is once again obviously, A LOT to take in for the ape trio; especially for Noa.

I'm not entirely sure if Noa would distant himself from the others, or become standoffish, (at least according to the deleted scenes) my poor boy is going through the process of an enlightened mind. On the other hand though, I do see him becoming slightly standoffish, considering his reaction to the picture book from the vault.

Will Rodman (James Franco) is probably the only other human character I imagine returning, from the Caesar trilogy.

6. Mae's Story Arc

If Kingdom ended with both Mae and Noa, since the beginning is very heavily focused on Noa's story (to be fair, it IS the classic Hero's Journey). I think the second movie might lean in to Mae's storyline/arc just a little bit more. I do think she's going to remain an antihero/heroine, maybe sharing similarities to how Caesar (not entirely, maybe a sprinkling here and there) was in Dawn, but I don't think she'll go down the path that Koba eventually did.

I think she's still going to remain conflicted about where her loyalties lie between Noa, the grief of losing her team (possibly her entire family) from Proximus's apes, and the fate of whatever is leftover of humanity. To add to this, I also think Mae is going to have PTSD and develop some unhealthy coping mechanisms after everything that happened in Kingdom. I've seen someone on discord talk about the possibility of her becoming a double agent (again, to be fair, the context was a fanfiction AU, but I digress). I absolutely love the idea for Mae, kind of similar to how Jake Sully was in James Cameron's Avatar, before he eventually feels something more for the Na'vi and Neytiri.

While she acts as a double agent for the humans and apes, Mae begins to slowly heal from her trauma when she's with Noa and the rest of the Eagle Clan, and maybe a couple of human allies who also act as go-betweens.

And maybe when she's with the people from the bunker, she can only stay in the quarantine areas, and the only other human(s) she interacts with will probably be either a doctor or nurse (get it??? Shakespeare anybody???)

7. Noa's Story Arc

I'd like to see Noa still learning his role as a leader of his clan in the second movie, we see a bit of this during the flood in the bunker. However, he too is also conflicted about his new view of the world at large, after his alliance with Mae and the whole Proximus Caesar incident. Would he continue to learn about leadership within the confines of his village? Or would he want travel to new areas away from the Eagle Clan, to learn more about this post-apocalyptic world, and the various other ape clans; or underground human communities? Or would he be on the cusp of a dark path himself?

Personally, I have no problem with sweet and naive characters going down a dark path, however, as long as there's a new take on the trope. While it would be interesting to see how Noa's trauma from the events in Kingdom would play out in the next two movies; and maybe it could work as a reverse of Mae healing from her own trauma. However, at the same time, I really really don't want to see him become a thematically dark character.

Like Mae in the aforementioned, I think Noa might also develop PTSD after the events in Kingdom. Whether he finds his own way of healing from said trauma, or dive further into it; hence the darker path previously mentioned, it is up to the screenwriters for the next two movies where Noa's mindset will be. On the other hand though, I would like to see both Mae and Noa learn how to heal together from their traumas.

Hence, Raka's last words to them: Together Strong.

[sugolara]

Here with you

ft. Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki x Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

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Standing on a small hill, hiding behind trees and bushes, Shoto used the pair of binoculars that he'd grabbed from their captives to spy down on a camp. While he do so, Katsuki tied up the men by a tree, uncaring whether a rotter came by to eat them. Their deaths would be a distraction and to be fair, they didn't deserve to see another day.

On their way here, the men that lived in the camp had told Shoto and Katsuki everything. There were other camps, not nearby, but close enough to trade women of all ages for food. Not to mention, when the time came in which they had no food, they resorted to eating anything—including humans.

From what they know, the camp consisted of mostly mens. If their family member was a woman, they were allowed to stay under the condition that they belonged to other males in the community.

"Vehicle three, come in." Shoto glanced at the radio down by his feet. He then looked at Katsuki who looked down at the tied up males. "You vehicle three?"

When neither of them responded, Katsuki stepped on the driver's calf, "You going to answer or am I going to have to break your damn leg."

The driver only glared, which annoyed the blonde. Adding more pressure, he finally spoke, "Okay, yes! It's other people!"

"From your community?" Shoto asked, eyes still looking at the camp. He spotted the brick buildings with its letter on it. What he needed was for them to go into building C, where they store their weapons. D would be where the massacre started and A would be where they are held captive. Building B, is where they most definitely wanted to avoid, "Why three?"

"This is vehicle three, heading to first gate." The scar male moved his eyesight to where a gate with a few men was opening. Coming from the trees, a black vehicle was soon seen, slowing down until it came to a stop when it made it inside the camp.

"Give me your vehicle number." Katsuki demanded, ignoring the passenger who shook his head to his companion. If his mouth wasn't covered he would have shouted and alerted anybody nearby.

"Six." Mumbled the driver, eyes looking away from the passenger in shame.

"Six?" The blonde quietly asked himself. A feeling of nervousness washed over him as he stared at the vehicle that entered the camp. He didn't like where this was going. What could six cars mean? Well, what else could it mean, "There are other cars out there."

"...We look for other people." The driver mumbled out. Even he knew that what he had to do to stay in a shelter was terrible, but he was just keeping his brother, the one beside him, safe.

Katsuki scoffed as he glared at him, "You forgot to fucking mention that!"

"Keep it down." Shoto muttered as he continued to look at the vehicle. However, when the doors opened to see two men come out and reach for the trunk, his eyes widened. From where he crouched, he could see them pull out F/n who was tied from the hands to the feet. They carelessly dragged her out and let her hit the ground, having Shoto wince from the action. No doubt would she wake up with a mean headache.

It was hard to make out her appearance, but she seemed to be dirty from his eyes. One down, now where's Izuku, "I see F/n."

At the mention of her name, the blonde grabbed his binoculars, watching as they dragged her not so kindly to warehouse D, which did not go unnoticed by the males as they quickly gathered their stuff. The last thing they needed was for her to be beheaded before finding Izuku.

At their sudden movement, the driver moved from his tied position, face looking frantic, "Wait, what about us!?"

"Not our problem." Shoto said, grabbing the new supplies they had gathered from the vehicle.

"C'mon, man!" The driver pleaded, "I told you everything! You can't just leave us here to die!"

"You're on your own." The blonde said as he covered the driver's mouth before he and Shoto climbed down the hill, "Did you see any snipers?"

"No, they have a lot of open space so the areas pretty much unguarded." The scar male shook his head, "Two are guarding building D. The others are near the back hanging around."

When they reached the fence, Katuski pulled out a wire cutter and carefully began to cut to where they could fit in. He tried to not let the fence rattle as it would announce their position to the camp. "Don't use your gun, you'll draw noise."

He rolled his eyes at Shoto's comment, "I fucking know that."

For a moment, all Izuku could hear were bangs of metal being pounded onto. He could faintly hear whimpering from where they placed him when he woke up. He didn't know if he was alone as he had his mouth covered and it was too dark in the shed, but it sounded like he could hear someone moving in front of him. A split of light peeked through the middle of where the doors were placed, but it didn't help as much with the gloomy sky.

All he knew was that it wasn't a dead as he couldn't hear their moans. Choosing to ignore what was in front of him, he sat up from his tied position, listening in one what he could hear. With the walls being thin, he could he hear everything. He knew his safety was on the line and the chills crawling up his skin when he swore he heard a baby cry did not help him feel better.

From the sounds of it, this camp did not have anything good in store. A terrible gut feeling was drone on him when he heard the shed next door open with people chattering. He could hear whispers getting louder as men laughed with the door being slammed closed. It caused him to jump from where he stood and so did whoever was in front of him.

He once again stared ahead, hoping to make out the figure, but nothing could be seen. As thunder hit, so did the doors to his shed. Light shined through, blinding his vision as he tried to get it back, but with his distracted self he was yanked up. He was then dragged, the men held his feet while his back and tied hands scraped against the floor, his wound hurting at every movement. Doing his best to ignore the pain, he noticed the person behind him, the one in the same shed was a woman.

He felt sick to see her condition. Her beaten face pooled in tears and her floral dress, from the waist down, was bleeding heavily. Even her legs were coated in dried blood. He noticed the terrified look she gave him when she was being dragged in a different direction from him. The males who had been holding her up looked at her with a glint, which he found disgusting. His attention was then drifted to the warehouse doors.

Instead of continuing to drag him they pulled him up, letting his tied up feet drag further into the building before dropping him right on his face. He scrunched his face at the pain, his nose felt like it was being pounded on. Moving his head to the side, letting his freckled cheeks cool against the floor, he let his eyes take a look around and at the sight he did not like it.

A row of people were next to him. Some were unconscious, others were wide awake in fear. He understood their fear as the men just behind to the side chatted with aprons while holding a machete. Adding onto that, a large bin that's supposed to hold clothes was bloody and he could barely see a finger poking out.

The warehouse of the doors once again opened. From his position, he couldn't see who was entering, but the sound of footsteps reached his ears. On the other side of him, he could hear someone being droop, a muffle groan soon following and to his ears the groan sounded familiar.

When he turned to look, his eyes widened. Though surprised was what he felt, he felt dreaded to see F/n right next to him, face twisting in pain with nose bleeding. The blood dripped down absoring to the cloth around her lips. He was just glad that she was covered in dirt instead of injuries. To see her body breathing and see her face again was enough to relieve him of her safety.

Glancing away from the girl, he craned his neck to look at the men by the side still chatting away. He examined their appearance, looking for a sort of weapon, but they only held a machete. No gun could be seen, which was a disadvantage. However, if he had to pull any necessities that wasn't character of him to get them both out safe and sound then so be it. Lets just hope that all things go well.

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Ten

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

The small team is presented with a new kind of problem, and Leona investigates Riley's strange behavior.

Hello!

I don't have a specific Trigger Warning for today's chapter! But again, I'll probably have some in the next one! :D

Have fun!

I.M.L. - Infected mammalian lifeform. I.H.L. - An infected humanoid lifeform.

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Ten

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Under my eyelids, the whole body of the soldier lying on his hospital bed becomes a map interwoven with a complex network of blood vessels, and I search for injuries, so that when I reach to the broken ribs and bruised internal organs, I can help the tissues heal with a very nice little push of my energy. Ever since our little team got back, I've been working on patching up the surviving soldiers, while Riley disappeared along with MacTavish, who already looked a thousand times better, to alert their other two companions, because they had to hear the crap we went through, after which our little team returned crippled, beaten and reduced in numbers. Riley didn't have to say a word for me to begin acting on my benevolent role and escorting their wounded mortal comrades to the infirmary. Of course, I don't do this out of the goodness of my heart, but mostly because I suspect that Price would certainly not be happy if I would let these poor bastards meet their maker, just because I don't feel like straining my pretty little body with so many tasks in one night. Another more pressing reason is that while I fix the physical integrity of these guys, I still have time to reflect on what happened.

And the more I run through the whole series of events in my head, which destroyed the entire bombproof plan in the blink of an eye, the more I'm sure that it wasn't the virus that got to a magical evolutionary peak and helped to give birth to a completely new kind of humanoid mutant. Even if the development of the pathogen had been accelerated, it wouldn't take just a year and a half to go from a brainless idiot to a beast carrying out organized attacks and capable of planning tricks. And this explanation just stirs up more questions in my skull, because even though I worked in the field and studied the behavior of these assholes for years, I can't think of anything that could have caused this. Provided that someone didn't interfere with the order of nature intentionally. But who would be so idiotic to pronounce the death sentence on humanity with this? And although I know that people can be mean, evil, and most of all stupid, but not to this extent. No one can be this suicidal, because the fear of death and terror is a much greater motivational force to not delve into such dangerous games. Of course, if the chance of something happening is not zero, that will never be a factor that can be ruled out.

When the last broken bone has mended together and all the damaged organs have regenerated, I just silently step back from the man resting on the bed, who looks up at me and mutters a quite "thank you", but my brain is too far gone for that. Without any further comment, I head towards the door of the infirmary, so that I can finally go to the place where I can release the many hypotheses swirling in my head and discuss with those who, along with me, have experienced what kind of new hell can be unleashed on the world.  Because the fact that these bastards behave intelligently and are able to corner S-Class Hunters is more than worrisome. We've been lucky so far because these monsters have also learned that if they don't stray too close to the colonies, they can get away without the Hunters making mittens out of their flayed skin. Of course, this is also a fragile balance, where random attacks still could happen starting from the yellow zone, but it’s a system that has been operating for fifty years, and is mainly held together by the Holy Spirit. And although Hunters are always born, and there are a few idiots every year who join liquidation units as soldiers, still, the number of our defense and that of mutants is not even, to say the least. Moreover, in light of the new developments concerning humans, we have theorized that within a few years, we will be more and more outnumbered by the infected lifeforms. But this… this puts this very friendly prediction into a new perspective.

My hasty steps thump loudly in the empty silence of the base, and I find it surprising that the commotion caused by our arrival didn't attract more attention from the busy little soldiers living here. Although I suspect that at this moment, the most advantageous thing to do is to remain quiet, since creating fear with insufficient information would be the stupidest thing we could do right now. Even if, with the available data, the subsequent events won’t be much better. And the sinister foreboding, fighting with sharp claws in my mind, keeps telling me that this little trifle is the result of some huge blunder, the consequence of which we will nobly bear now. And I secretly hope that Laswell and her omnipresent hand will make sure that the thousands of questions arising in me will be answered. Although I know that this is mostly a futile dream, because that is exactly why she sent us there, only to return with even more unclear circumstances and question marks.

I make my way to Price's office in the heart of the base as quickly as I have never done before, and I suspect that restlessness and the desire for knowledge make my steps so damn springy after the stress and adventures of the last few hours. And I could even muse about the fact, that it's quite irrational of me to be so interested in the new risk threatening the colonies, and I could even argue that in order to keep my peace, as a simple Healer, it's not my concern to worry about this. But rationality has always been stronger in me, and it alerts me that there is no corner of the world where I can escape to, if what we've experienced today develops into a worldwide problem. And this has the potential of becoming one. In any case, my renewed selfless soul wouldn't let its new little squad down. No matter how much the latest incidents promise new complications in addition to my life which is already full of excitement.

As soon as the door to Price's den appears in front of me at the end of the familiar corridor, I see the restless movement of several shadows in the light filtering under the doorstep, and it's clear from the muffled muttering, that they are just as excited by the thrills we encountered during the mission as I am. And as I get closer, I catch the worried grumble of the captain, as he surely tries to get more information from the two Hunters with enthusiastic questioning, and despite the fact that I can't see through the walls, I can still imagine the serious expression on the man's face. That's why I don't hesitate any longer, but after a soft knock as a courtesy, without waiting for an answer, I reveal the entrance to the office, only to be met almost immediately by five pairs of rather grim eyes, that settle on my approaching figure at the same time. And after I survey the people gathered in the dim room, my gaze almost instinctively finds MacTavish, who is resting in his chair next to the table, now wearing civilian clothes instead of his earlier tattered ones. There is now a significantly more human color to his face, even though his features are now dominated by an unusual sullenness, which softens just a shade when he turns his attention to me. The edge of his stubble-framed mouth moves upwards into a faint curve, and it almost physically hurts to see the gloom that settles over his entire being. And I can assess it quite well that this is for the failed campaign and our diminished team.

"Woods!" Price addresses me, when he snaps out of the surprise caused by my arrival, and as he scans over me quickly, a small smile appears on his face. "I'm glad you're in one piece." He adds, and the fact doesn't escape my attention that, regardless of his delight, he lingers on my rather battered person for a few long seconds, and it feels good for the hidden little corner of my soul as I catch the sparks of concern glimmering in those sky blue eyes. I almost find this paternal worry to be sweet, but now is not the time for this in the least, no matter how much my brain wants to go off on disgustingly sentimental tangents.

"Yeah, I almost ended up in several." I note rather darkly, and I also cruise over to the table with just a few quick steps, and driven by the bubbling tension under my skin, I don't even notice that for some reason I automatically arrive at Riley's side, who just silently turns his head towards at me as I appear next to him. Our gaze only meets for a fleeting moment, but that's enough for me to observe that in some magical way, he lacks the distance that has been a constant guest in those chocolate eyes. And this would even make my morbid little heart skip a beat with the honor, if his pious behavior didn't arouse suspicion in me, in light of how enthusiastically I disregarded his orders earlier.

"Ghost and Soap gave a broad outline of what happened." Laswell also joins the conversation, who seems to have been so interested in the outcome of the excitement she brought here that she stayed here to wait for the news. And from the line of her thinly pressed lips, it's clear that she the story she got was far off from what she wanted to hear. And the evil little voices in my brain warn me to watch every reaction of the woman carefully, because if my assumption is correct and this whole mess is the work of humans, then our informant was either honestly unsuspecting, or she's hiding it damn well that she was aware of the hornet's nest she was sending us into. And although I would like to believe that she was barking up the wrong tree as much as we did, it crosses my mind once again that what cannot be completely ruled out is still a potential possibility.

"We've had our fair share of excitement." I draw my mouth into a rather cynical smile, and I don't try to hide the sarcastic edge in my voice, because it wouldn't make any sense. I suspect that my mood is shared by Riley and his Scottish friend, whose dark eyebrows seem unable to separate from each other, because they hold the gloomy expression with unbroken enthusiasm that, according to my intuition, has been on his face since he regained consciousness. "Fortunately, you won't miss out on the experience either." I announce pointedly, and as I reach for the camera resting on my vest, suddenly all eyes are focuses on the gadget with intense curiosity, which my skillful fingers peel from the cavalcade of the many pockets with ease. And when the device is finally off of me, my free hand automatically searches for my communicator from my side pocket to prepare for the early morning movie screening. They're in for a real treat.

"How much did you manage to record?" Price turns to me again, and when the wry smile sitting on my lips softens into a single motionless line, he unspokenly understands the sheer ominous graveness emanating from my expression. And since he can guess that my sourness is not for our impromptu late-night slumber party, I know from the deep, troubled wrinkles appearing on his forehead that he understands how horrible the recording can be, which I have collected in such an artistic manner.

"Just enough." I state succinctly, and I don't even need to add more to the introduction of the documented material, because it perfectly sums up my feelings. Pulling out the connector on the side of the communicator, I insert it into the input of the camera, and everyone watches tensely as I conjure up the video with a few button presses, the existence of which may have been forgotten by everyone until I entered, but fortunately, my memory spins sharper than ever from the stress that still lingers in me.

And when the barren road marking the edge of the combat zone appears, looming with blue light, I place the gadget in the middle of the table and flick on the frozen image of the hologram to begin the presentation of the bedtime story. The first few minutes pass with almost disturbing uneventfulness, as our small team confidently moves forward towards the heart of the city that houses only rotting remains. But my attention doesn't waver, and my frustrated brain, demanding answers, focuses more intently than ever before, circling every square millimeter of the footage that is presented to me. Because now that it's finally not preoccupied with the rescuing of my fellow Scotsman, and not the horror of the mission turned into chaos dominates my mind, I have the free brainpower to wonder how long they could have been watching us. They outwitted the expertly hidden traps with such vileness and attacked our group in such close coordination, that it’s almost impossible that this was all just a random phenomenon committed out of an impulse. No. These bastards have been monitoring us from the very beginning.

The video cuts to our parting at the observation point, and even though I suddenly see only the uniforms of the two Hunters and all the equipment lined up on them, it still flashes in my mind with what high hopes and confidence MacTavish reassured me that this whole operation couldn't end badly.  How sad that after I continue to stroll to the overpass and take my place, we can admire up close how fast everything went awry. The room watches with tense concentration as the events take place in quick succession, and I still can't find anything wrong with the way the little soldiers skillfully set the traps intended for surprise with nimble movements. But, when the noise of the sound alarm slowly filters through the video with a muffled screech, the first unmistakable wrinkles of confusion and astonishment soon appear on everyone. Because the human-like creatures emerge, and even though they are much smaller than how I saw them through my binoculars due to the distance, I still manage to follow them perfectly as they throw themselves into the line of sensors first with jerky movements and then with frantic haste. That's when the first startled voice breaks out from Garrick, who watches with growing bewilderment as the mouth of the nest slowly begins to pour out hordes of mutants like an unstoppable flood. The pale moving flashes of the hologram are reflected in his dark eyes with a ghostly light, and this only emphasizes the disbelief that is held there even more.

And since I know that the best is yet to come, I direct my focus to the corner of the footage, because the star of the evening will make its impressive entrance within minutes, and I'm not willing to miss a single second of it. For an uncertain moment, it seems as if the smudge on the roof of the ruined building is just a speck of dust floating in the air, but I know that it is that dirtbag. Even I acknowledge this deformed lowlife, because it sneaks out of the ruins with such masterful invisibility that I still only notice its appearance a few fleeting seconds earlier than I did hours ago. And the possibility arises in my mind that maybe it could have avoided the position of the soldiers operating on the ground from another underpass, because there wasn't only one subway stop like that in a city. If these scumbags inhabited the entire subway network, they could have emerged from anywhere that hadn't yet degraded into a crumbling pile of garbage. And this means that we had no chance to surround them from the beginning, because they could have thrown themselves at us from literally anywhere.

Although the video doesn't fully reflect the reality, the mutant and its rider offer at least an unnatural sight as they did in real life, as they stop at the edge of the building and with noble simplicity direct their little buddies who are lying in wait towards MacTavish's team. And now that I have time to analyze the whole interaction more soberly, I notice how the I.H.L.s standing by on the ground look up to their leader with devoted attention, and they move as a team when, they carry out the silent order with almost blind obedience, as if they had been secretly practicing this for some time in their dirty little home. Which still doesn't sound much less unlikely.

"What the hell is going on?" The confused question breaks out from Garrick, and one of his fingers is points at the humanoid monster climbing down on the building, who starts its calm little walk towards the battlefield with such grace and pride, as if it had just gone on a peaceful evening sightseeing. I perfectly understand the Hunter's surprise, because even for the second time I can't find an explanation for the whole surreal event. And this only awakens impatient frustration in my mind, because instead of observing new details, I only find more incomprehensible puzzles.

"What is that?" Laswell fixes her bright eyes on me, and as I divert my searching gaze from the recording for a moment, I carefully study the expression hiding on her face. The troubled fine wrinkles that run between her eyebrows emerging from under her hair look sincere, and the concerned sparks that appear in her eyes don't seem to be the result of contrived acting. Although I have no illusions that this woman can play with her facial expressions as effectively as she can retrieve anything that comes out of our little mouth when needed, but I'm also well-versed in studying others to know when someone is trying to trick me. And now she urges me to answer with the genuine astonishment of the first shock. Based on this, she was kept in the dark at least as effectively as we were. In other words, there is still a corner of this world where the influence of the woman, unfortunately, doesn't reach, and this leads directly to the not-insignificant fact that if there is a human hand in this, then it will belong to one of the highly prestigious members of the higher authority.

"An I.H.L." I finally give the curt answer, and despite the fact that I don't indulge in further explanations, she still understands how terrible news this means for us. Because she snaps her head back to the unfathomable chaos unfolding on the recording with such speed that it makes even me dizzy.

The tension is palpable in the silence that slowly fills every corner of the office, and nothing else echoes from the white walls than my panting and pounding footsteps, which are filtered through the video, as I wander the deserted streets in search of MacTavish. And although the camera shakes wildly as it tosses and turns in the middle of my rush, it's still possible to follow my path perfectly to the location of the Hunter with the mohawk. And when I finally arrive, from the wall of the building that serves as my hiding place, only a part of the view that greeted me upon my arrival can be seen, but it's enough for me to catch on my periphery, how the Scotsman's fists are clenched with painful force in his lap, as a blood-soaked hand appears in the tumult of many feasting monsters. There's no doubt that he blames himself for his team's unfortunate end, and I'd love to give him a little of my selfishness to ease the paralyzing pain and disappointment in his eyes. Because even though I know that he isn't an innocent sheep either, he doesn't deserve to fall into despair like this because he couldn't avoid the slap that this unfortunate situation gave him.

The time comes for my dramatic entrance, and the sight of the mangled bodies of dead mutants on the ground still fills me with morbid joy. But I don't have to wait long, because soon a completely new excitement occupies my attention, because the mutant-riding scum appears again in the alley, preparing to attack. Riley's body imperceptibly tenses up from the sight, and I only take a furtive glance at him. Every cell of him radiates pure rage, and I haven't been able to catch this reaction yet, even though I've tried quite enthusiastically to rile him up previously. His fingers, which are still covered in blood-soaked gloves, are squeezed around the thick table top, and when the large piece of furniture creaks from the fury directed at it, for a moment it feels as if he would want to tear the furnishing apart with his bare hands. And I have a suspicion, that although the helpless anger felt due to the injury of his comrade and the failure of the mission may also contribute to his sore mood, my keen little senses tell me that something else is going on here. Because it's only when he catches my searching gaze, that he manages to steer himself back into his usual cold indifference with great difficulty. My eyes just narrow cautiously as, unusually for him, instead of any kind of unfriendly remark he turns his attention back to the video, where he has now also made his brilliant appearance and sets off on the way back, hauling MacTavish on his shoulders. And from this strange reaction, I quite understandably come to the conclusion, that something is very fucking wrong with him.

As soon as the recorded material ends, the footage shown on the hologram freezes again, leaving behind nothing but confusion, anger, and sinister silence. It's no wonder, because countless things happened in this video that no one could have foreseen, not even in their wildest dreams. The mission, which started as a simple nest extermination, concluded in such an ugly massacre that ended with the death of a dozen soldiers, after which we returned home with their few survived, but tormented companions, without answers. And this will be a hard pill to swallow for everyone. Including me.

"What the hell was that?" Garrick finally speaks after digesting what he has seen for few tense moments, and his voice is filled with the same anxious temper that slowly appears in definite outlines on the faces of his captain and Laswell as well. And his look says that he wants to ask a thousand more questions, but after the information he received, which is shocking, to say the least, he can only formulate this one sentence, because suddenly he isn’t capable of doing more.

"I don't know, but it sure wasn't normal." I state immediately, and at this point, my brain feverishly begins to organize the data so that I can present all my grim observations and assumptions to the small team that have formed in me so far. And there are quite a few of them. "They carried out an organized attack. They bypassed the traps and followed orders. And that bastard used a specific strategy and a weapon." I summarize the essence briefly, emphasizing each word, and although I could list a whole bunch of other smart observations, it wouldn't change the fact that this damned monster surprised us all with something completely new.

"But how?" Garrick asks his next anxious question, and his mouth is pressed into an angry line that rarely surfaces on the man's face. A thick vein appears on his neck as his entire being begins to radiate wild waves of irritation, and it seems as if he's considering to reach through the footage and grab that infected piece of trash to end its little fun with his own two hands.

"I have no idea." I finally answer, and with a tired sigh I straighten up, browsing through all the knowledge I've acquired over the years to put together everything that started this whole sinister train of thought in me. "The virus also attacks the structures of the brain that enable a person to see cause-and-effect relationships and consequences, logical thinking ceases completely. The instinctual level remains, because this is beneficial to the virus. It drives the host to spread it and survive. An infected person is unable to follow orders because they cannot interpret verbal or advanced non-verbal communication codes." I explain, and the vast amount of research data that I have been lucky enough to come across over the years flashes before my mind's eye, based on which the leader of the small mutant team is such an incomprehensible and no less dangerous enigma, the solution to which must be found as soon as possible, if we want to enjoy our approximately peaceful life in the future. Because I'm sure that if there is one such individual, there are more, and it's only a matter of time before they decide to play soldier and attack the first colony that gets in their way.

"But they still followed I.H.L.'s." MacTavish breaks his silence for the first time, and the annoyed lines on his forehead deepen as he articulates his observation, and they continue to hold their position on the Hunter's face with almost inexorable stubbornness.

"That's exactly the problem." I confirm the essence perfectly captured by the man, because this is exactly what further complicates the already tangled events. "That I.H.L. showed intelligent behavior that contradicts everything we know so far. It took the I.M.L.s ten years to gather into hordes, and it took the infected humans only a year and a half to get further?" I formulate the problem that has been maturing in the depths of my brain since I first had the opportunity to look back a little and understand what I witnessed. And my suggestion seems to set off a spark of suspicion in the other members of the small group as well, because the anger on their faces softens and a completely new kind of gloom takes its place when they understand what I want to imply.

"It doesn't seem very likely." The captain agrees, directing his eyes back to me, and with this, he puts into words the uncertainity that is slowly but surely digging its sharp little claws into everyone's head. And I know that even without my little scientific lecture, they've seen enough mutants to realize that there's very little chance that there's just Mother Nature's graceful hand in this whole fucking upheaval.

"Because it's not."  I affirm their unspoken doubt, and with that, the dilemma is also put on the table, which has been settling on my consciousness like an oppressive ghost for some time, to further feed the frustration raging inside me. "The virus is still the same as it was fifty years ago. It has undergone a slight mutation, but the infection itself is the same. The same way of spreading, the same course, the same effect." I list the facts, pointing my index finger meaningfully at the still motionless recording emerging from the communicator. "This is not the work of nature here." I give the final push to my long-winded argument, thereby also cementing the friendly thought in them that this excitement is probably the gift to those who shove them from one dangerous action to another as their lapdogs.

"Are you sure? " Price asks, his deep voice ringing with a seriousness that leaves no room for any jokes or uncertainty. He also knows exactly that if this is true, then we are embarking on a complicated game that won't only be difficult to untangle, but also downright life-threatening, and not only because new kinds of monsters are lurking on us. Once someone starts pulling out the skeletons, there is a fear that the whole closet will topple over. If we go down this road, we may come across information that makes mutants not the only threat.

"Quite." I state firmly, and I keep the man's gaze unflinchingly, sending the message with every inch of me that I couldn't take my rather dangerous little accusations more seriously than this. And I know that they have enough experience with higher management to agree with me, as they have experienced firsthand what radical methods they are willing to resort to if the need calls for it.

"Woods is right. I've never seen anythin' like the bastard who tried to kill me." MacTavish joins in, thereby confirming the I.H.L.'s unusual nature. And I'm sure that in the couple of years he spent in the profession, he was lucky enough to meet enough monsters to know that our new little friend, who almost stabbed him to death, is a far cry from his usual playmates.

"We don't have enough information to know anything for sure." Price notes cautiously, and despite the tense edge appearing in his tone, he remains perfectly stern, as a true leader does. Although I know that he would rather break the neck of whoever is responsible for this whole fucking mess. "But it's certain that we got involved in the shit that someone else stirred." He adds, and smooths one of his large palms meaningfully on the top of his table, almost illustrating the pile of crap we stumbled upon. And I don’t doubt that everyone agrees with this observation, even if it's only indicated by a silent nod. Because it's more than shady that they send a private unit to an operation with such great urgency, which was selected precisely so that the small problem could be eliminated under the radar and with the greatest possible discretion. A government-run unit would also have been able to exterminate a nest, but since then there would have to be official reports, where the fact of our new mutant-rider friend would have appeared, and then the story would have been over.  And Shepherd didn't run this circle by chance. He's hiding something. And I'm really good at recognizing that, because I, myself, have done that for years myself.

"If this is the work of humans, then there is a trace left somewhere." Laswell joins in, who up until now had been shrouded in gloomy silence digesting the barrage of very steep assumptions and accusations that unfolded during the conversation. But it seems that now she too has found her determination again, and is springing into action with corresponding vehemence. "I'll look into it and let you know as soon as I find something. We have to get to the bottom of this." She states in a tone that excludes all doubts, and almost immediately gets to work as she reaches towards the camera to disconnect it from the communicator with a simple movement and puts it in the pocket of her vest. "Until then, stay alert. Nothing can get out of this." She issues her instructions for the last time, and then, when she receives a nod of agreement from Price, she rushes towards the door of the office and storms away with the same fervor with which she entered the base before our whole disastrous adventure. And I hope that this momentum will help her find something useful, because I have an intuition that we cannot sit on this topic for long, because it will soon escalate into such bloody consequences that could easily cost millions of lives. And although I didn't advance to sainthood either, my pretty ass is also included in these millions, and I specifically fear for my own safety.

"I think this much excitement will be enough for today."  A tired sigh leaves the captain's mouth, and he only strokes his bearded chin with his fingers, trying to pull himself together after the information-saturated discussion. For the first time, he seems really exhausted, and it occurs to me that he may have been awake all night waiting for us to return. "Go rest. Kate definitely won't be back for a while." He directs his words to our trio, who have just returned from the mission, and although I can feel the fatigue eating into my limbs, my brain is still as alert as if I had poured a bucket of coffee down my throat.

And as I look at MacTavish, I realize that I have to agree with the captain, because even if my still actively working brain is not interested in sleep, the Scotsman, despite my professional regeneration, would need to finally position himself horizontally. But what surprises me more is when Riley moves next to me with unexpected suddenness, and without any further comment, he strolls out of the office, as if he would have some desperately important business to attend to somewhere else. Although I could believe that the only reason he leaves this abruptly is because he is burning with the desire to check his surviving little soldiers, but since the beginning of the whole meeting he has been behaving so unusually that his hurries disappearance just deepens my suspicions even more. And I can't get rid of the thought that something is definitely not right with him.

But I can't dwell on this any further, because I feel a warm palm on me, whose strong fingers gently squeeze my shoulder, directing my attention from the doorstep back to the interior of the room. A sincere smile spreads across MacTavish's face, and even though the light eyes are still filled with sadness, they look at me with such warmth that even my rough little heart immediately begins to pay attention.

"Thank you for comin' for me." The man says, and his heavily accented voice is mixed with genuine thankfulness, and I have no doubt that he means it, because gratitude flows from his every fiber, which makes my dark little soul sensitive for no reason. I don't want to share with him what motivation the image of his bloody death in my head and later the sight of his mangled body gave me, because I'm afraid that I would reveal too much about how close he and his small team came to my heart. My pride still doesn't allow me to be emotional, but it's still nice to see him alive and together. Mainly because I'd hate it if my two-person cheerleading squad was down to one.

"Don't forget about your gratitude when it comes to my training." I utter with a rather cheeky undertone, and I let that faint, but no less superior, small smile appear on my face, to finally divert my attention from the memories of the Hunter's injuries, because I can almost feel the wet touch of the warm blood under my fingers even now. And I was never moved by either blood or violence, but the fact that something terrible happened to someone I'd rather see alive is a completely different matter.

"I can't promise anythin'! " He grins as his big hand slips off my shoulder, and it seems that life has returned to him for a minute because of my teasing, since the troubled wrinkles on his forehead are reduced a little, and with this, he regains his healthy glow. And this suits him much better than the mournful misery that dominated his expression not long ago, because it also awakened compassion and pity in a disgusting way in me.

"You were good." Garrick chimes in, who finally seems to have recovered from his stunned silence, and an appreciative light flashes in his dark eyes, which only further feeds the idiotic warmth inside me, for which, despite all my objections and denials, I could kill to continue to feel. Therefore, to gather myself, I straighten up and stretch my tired limbs, like a cat that has woken up from its pleasant afternoon siesta. And I suddenly feel the desperate need to take a shower, because even if I won't be able to sleep because of the hundreds of thoughts raging in my head, my aching muscles still deserve the caress of hot water.

"I know." I reply lightly and without any modesty, but it occurs to me again that if the masked Hunter doesn't jump in so kindly to help, then I wouldn't be able to think about my relaxing bath right now. And this suddenly reawakens my restlessness caused by his behavior, and I don't even understand why I should be so interested in the fact that he acts even more rigidly than usual. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that, due to my observations that turned into a hobby, it became a habit to analyze him, and every new tidbit he shows appears to me as another puzzle waiting to be solved. And this is just a bone for my overworked brain to chew on. And at this point, I decide that maybe it's time to step down before I can weave this fucking cavalcade any longer. "That's why I'm leaving now. That's enough for one evening." I declare, and now I don't even try to hide the exhaustion in my voice, which is pulling at every fiber of my body like heavy weights. This gives me enough momentum, and guided by this, I set off with one last wave to my other three little friends, already standing under the warm stream of water in my imagination.

"Get some rest." Price calls out after me, and as I turn back and meet his gaze for a moment, I find the unspoken message in his eyes, which conveys to me that I should take advantage of the rest now, because I won't have the opportunity for this luxury, if Laswell returns with the intel. And I can fully agree with this intuition, so without any further comments I say goodbye to the small group with a curt nod, and then go on my way down the deserted corridor bathed in neon light.

And as I get farther and farther away from the captain's office with my sluggish steps, and the empty silence of the base engulfs me, my thoughts return to the events of the evening. And interestingly enough, now my nerves are not obsessing over the new mutant threat, but rather Riley appears in my brain once more, as he towers above me in the dark street, staring down at me with his wild eyes glowing in red. And I can still feel the uncontrollable power emanating from him, which awakened the tingling sensation in my stomach, that appears in some inexplicable way near him. I can't pinpoint what it is, but it keeps drawing my attention back to the man, as if his whole being would be a magnet that my mind can't resist. I could justify this by saying that the relationship between the two of us is far from peachy, and that is why I dedicate so much time to studying him, but a small voice in the hidden recesses of my subconscious tells me that there is more to it than that. And even if I bend and break, I can't articulate what this motivation is that pushes me towards him, apart from my pettiness and my morbid curiosity.

My boots echo with a muffled pounding on the walls of the lifeless base, and by now those who came to help our returning defeated group after our arrival have also disappeared. And I'm a little sorry that I can now make my way to my room alone, because that way there is nothing to distract me from my train of thought, which is quite irritatingly focuses on the masked Hunter. And as the road leading to my little room appears in front of me, I stop dead in my tracks for a second. Because to the left of me stretches the corridor, at the end of which Riley's door is located, with a dull light filtering under the threshold, which makes it clear that even though he was running away so enthusiastically earlier, he still couldn't rest. So I was right to guess that he didn't rush off in such a hurry because he was worried about his men, which begs the question of what could make the always stoic man act with such unusual urgency. Because normally, he would have long since started an enthusiastic discussion with Price or thrown himself into work, but now he was gone with a haste that is rarely seen. And when the rather recent memory of his fingers closing with terrible force around the top of Price's large desk flashes through my mind, my legs almost automatically change direction and carry me forward toward the man's door, even though I know it's probably an even dumber idea than playing a one-person rescue squad. Still, the desire to calm my uncertainty is stronger than the warning voices in my skull, and the doubt inside me gives me the impetus to gallop through the dark walls with unbroken determination.

And when I arrive at the door, without thinking, one of my hands goes up knocks softly. Unmoving silence greets me for a fleeting moment, and it occurs to me that I may have misjudged the situation, and perhaps the man really left earlier because of some urgent plan he couldn't postpone. But then the sound of heavy footsteps hits my sharp little ears, and a second later the entrance to the apartment opens before me. And I raise my eyebrows in confusion as I catch a glimpse of the pair of glowing crimson eyes fixed on me, and the man's previous strange behavior immediately makes sense. Because the fact flashes in my mind that since my arrival I've been lucky enough to recharge all of his little friends, except for him, thanks to which I can now enjoy every threatening wave of hot energy flowing from him. Although I know that S-class Hunters, and perhaps he even more so, are able to reserve their small stores for a long time, especially if they don't use their ability often, but this is a game that cannot be dragged on indefinitely. Tonight's party seems to have pushed him over the edge, in a direction that has the potential to turn him into a raging lunatic. And a fierce spark of rage awakens in me when I understand that he would rather drive himself to madness than let my evil little hands help him. Why else would he have dragged this shit until now?

"What are you doin’ here?" The legitimate question comes from him, and his deep voice sounds more hoarse than usual, as if he would have to force himself to pronounce this simple sentence calmly and humanely enough. And it's undoubtedly true, because he hasn't regenerated for two and a half months, and even professionals like him suffer from it. No matter how strong he is, it doesn't matter if he is capable of taking down an entire colony with his two hands, he cannot escape the curse of his kind, which sooner or later drives every Hunter close to a Healer. He is no exception to this, even if it hurts both of us to admit it.

"You look like shit." I remark simply, and although I’m able to suppress the anger that is growing in me, I cannot push the mockery out of my voice, which infuses my words like poison. I'd like to think we've gotten over this animosity, but I'm not naive, I know I'm not the favorite person of this tough guy, but he can't be so stupid as to put his little comrades' safety in jeopardy. And although I understand why he tries so vehemently to push me away, because I suspect that despite my saint-like behavior so far, he still very much remembers how our little relationship started, but now even I admit that in this situation we both need to get rid of our pride.

"Go back to your room." He cuts the conversation short, or at least tries to settle the matter quickly, but unfortunately he still can't deter me with his grumpiness, because he hasn't achieved any lasting change in my charming personality with this attitude so far either. For the second time tonight, it seems, the time has come when I must remind him that, although I have been somewhat tamed by the grace shown by his team, my self-esteem and determination are still stronger than his intimidating aura, which he tries to project at me with every cell of his being.

"I always forget how much better you think you are." I reply to him and, tilting my head to the side, I hold the stare of his vivid red eyes, which shine with such unnatural sharpness in the dull light escaping through the opening of the door, as if he weren't from this world, but rather some kind of demon released from hell. And I reluctantly have to admit to myself that instead of fear, a completely different kind of tingling wells up under my skin from his flaming gaze. "But maybe you could let go of your pride now. Unless, by the morning, you want someone else to be blamed for the reduced team besides the mutants." I suggest cynically, highlighting the simple but unpleasantly probable fact with deliberate cruelty, that his stubbornness doesn't protect anyone, especially not the members of the base's tight-knit family. With this whole tug-of-war, he risks snapping the last string of his sanity and slaughtering those whom he tried to protect until now with his own hands.

And it seems that my little comment hits its target, because even though I don't break off our stare-down duel even for a minute, I can see in my periphery how his fingers clench irritatedly around the door, and when the wood creaks under his hand with a low scream, then I take a brave but simple step closer, and he follows my movements with narrowed eyes. Even though I can't see him fully, I can still feel the burning heat of the angry force emanating from him, but that doesn't distract me from my goal. Because although I hide this deeply even from my rational self, it's not just my doubts about my safety that urge me to lend a helping hand. But also that unknown pull that draws my attention to him, as the light of a lamp lures the unsuspecting moth.

"It's amazing how tough you are. But you’re only screwing yourself over. And the others." I note, pressing the last few words significantly, highlighting the fact that not only his pride is at stake here, but also the lives of those he will crush when the blinds come down in front of his brain after he runs out of the energy. "Let me help you." I  plead with him, and the nasty edge that has been residing in my voice softens, trying to make it known that, for once, I only want to support him without any ulterior motives or malice. Which would be my job anyway, but in light of the fact that he saved my life, maybe I even owe him that much.

It seems that I might have succeeded in making him come around, because after a nerve-wracking second of silent hesitation, he steps back and opens the entrance to his room wider in front of me, offering me the way in. And I, without any wait, venture into the realm of his modest home, ignoring the smoldering gaze that follows me unceasingly, the heat of which almost burns my back, as I slowly invade the lonely silence of his quarters. And although I try with every fiber of my being to impose a nonchalant calm on myself, it's impossible to forget how the whole room is filled with the fiery temper that rolls off of him in steady wawes. Therefore, in order to reinforce my confident indifference, I scan through every little corner of the room with my curious eyes. It's only a fraction bigger than my humble abode, yet despite the neat order, it radiates a homeliness that makes me want to question whether the Hunter I know for his unfriendliness and coldness even lives here. And although the furniture is quite simple, I still discover one or two personal relics and some pictures taken with an old camera. In most of them, he is posing with his friends, but there is one photo that stands out from the rest, and even though I can only make out the blurred figures of a few people from this distance, I still capture an older woman, whose face, adorned with a warm smile, almost radiates something quite intimate, which only the close family members can show to each other. And I have to forcefully divert my searching gaze from there, because I know that I'm poking my nose into a corner of the man's life that I have nothing to do with in the slightest. Not even if the curiosity awakened in me eagerly demands to know who the relative he holds in such high esteem could be.

However, I can't survey the surroundings any longer, because I hear the thumping of his heavy boots as he approaches me, after the door closes with a soft click, and as he walks past me and heads towards the bed resting at the end of the room, I follow his path intently. He's still wearing his uniform stained with dark blood, but he's already gotten rid of the tactical gear, and for some reason, without the many supports and straps, the restrained aggression that dominates his body becomes even more noticeable, as he throws himself into the soft comfort of his bed with measured movements. And as soon as he has settled down, he focuses his expectant stare on me, which, despite the fact that his insides are probably torn apart by irritated impatience and pain, is still filled with indifference. And his ability to protect his image and self-respect, even when he certainly feels as good as washed out shit, is worthy of recognition.

And I don't waste my time, but amble closer cautiously so that I can join the man sprawled out on the bed with deceptive relaxation. He follows my every move with keen attention as I crouch down next to him, as if he would suspect that at any moment I will attempt something evil against him after allowing me into the intimate recesses of his quarters. And although the idea of getting into someone's personal space and later using the knowledge gained in this way against them is not completely foreign to me, this is not what drives me now. The dark bedding rustles and crumples under me as I turn towards him and hold out one of my pretty little hands so that we can finally get down to what the ugly little voice in my subconscious brought me here for. His crimson eyes settle on my hand with suspicion, as if it alone could commit unimaginable horrors. Which in itself is a flawless truth, but it's also true for him, and I'm guessing that his hands have seen a lot more violence than mine, and unfortunately, because of that, none of us are innocent enough for this charade.

"I'm going to need skin contact, Riley." I inform him with my tone spiced with a drop of sarcasm, because I doubt that he is not aware that he will have to allow my ugly little hands to touch him in order to recharge him. Even if I can understand how this fact fills him with resentment, unfortunately now he will be forced to let me get close so that I can do my job.

He casts one last unfriendly look at me, then quickly frees himself from one of his gloves, and a strong hand appears from under the textile decorated with a skeleton pattern, with dark veins stretching under the unnaturally pale skin, through which the traces of the many scars left from the past run with faint lines, only silently testifying to the excitements in which he undoubtedly took a part in. He reluctantly offers me his hand, and my fingers firmly wrap around his large palm almost immediately, and I'm surprised for a moment by the burning heat emanating from it, which slowly creeps along my skin following his touch. And this small interaction is enough for me to gauge how close he has strayed to his limits even without the help of my ability, and it gives me enough motivation to close my eyes and begin the regeneration, before I can dwell on how surprisingly pleasant his long fingers tightening around mine feel.

When my energy carefully stretches out towards him, I get lightheaded for a minute from the demanding, aggressive pull, with which the power raging in the man clings to me almost instantly, like a starving wild animal that has finally found a tasty morsel. And I have to concentrate more than I would normally to not give in to this violent pull, because an SSS-class big boy is able to suck all the energy out of me in a careless moment, before I even have a chance to recover from the attack. The complicated system of blood vessels running through the Hunter's body is revealed in my mind's eye, and only a few areas peppered with dark spots show that he didn't get through the night without minor injuries and bruises. Although he is undoubtedly a human killing machine in terms of his abilities, today's events caught him by surprise, and I can guess that he got these passing bruises when he was trying to protect his men from the monsters that was attacking them. And with that, the mission filled with pointless death appears in mind for the hundredth time since our arrival, which I don't think I'll be able to get past any time soon. It would be foolish to forget this whole parade, because it delighted me with new experiences, the fruits of which we will soon reap if we don't get more information. But the little conversation I had with Riley before rescuing our Scottish friend comes to my mind, perhaps with even more enthusiasm. Although he now sits next to me with an almost eerie immobility, and lets my cunning little gift soften the furious flames of the power that simmers in him in slow waves, I can't get over the fact that he hasn't yet punished me for my disobedience. I don't feel any particular desire to remind him of my reckless opposition, but I'm still curious to see how he will retaliate for my little rebellion.

I break out of my concentration for a moment, and I raise my searching gaze to his face again, only to meet his closed eyes emerging from under the mask. And I take advantage of this stolen moment to observe his features as closely as I haven't had the chance to before. In the yellow light of the lamp on the bedside table, his eyelashes look golden, and they cast shadows on the skin covered with blurred dark paint as they flutter when the cooling waves of my energy wash through his body. The sharp line of his nose can be seen under the black fabric, and as I peer down and recognize the shape of his lips parting in relief, I feel the burning tremble that has appeared with disturbing frequency around him lately. But I can't tear myself away from him, because my eyes slide on his chin, then on his textile-covered neck, and when his Adam's apple moves, when he swallows after a barely audible sigh, my mouth dries up with maddening speed. I feel like it's time to finally occupy my mind which drifted on a dangerous path, before the warmth in the pit of my stomach has time to get cheeky. Because I don't understand at all what is happening to me, and it annoys me more than anything that I feel the control of my brain slipping out of my hands.

"You won’t punish me?" The question that occupies my mind breaks out of me, because although I'm not afraid that he will snap my neck because of this, I can rightly assume that he will honor my little indulgence with some kind of retribution. Of course, this may seem like an almost masochistic move on my part, but it's still a safer and more predictable area than the series of thoughts buzzing in my head caused by just observing his face hidden under the mask.

His eyelids open slowly, as if I had just disturbed him from his peaceful slumber, and when his usual brown eyes are focused on me again, the lazy sparks dancing in them almost take my breath away. It seems as if heavy weights have been lifted from him, and as the tension ready to jump disappears from his muscles, and his body relaxes, his aura becomes quite human. As if sitting next to me wasn't the fearless, grim, and always terrifying Hunter, but the man who calls MacTavish Johnny, who sometimes disappears into Price's office and reappears with the scent of whiskey and tobacco smoke trailing after him, and who responds with a low snort to one of Garrick's lame jokes. He almost becomes a different person, and this makes me wonder why he allows me, exactly ME, to see this side of him. I doubt he is aware of how carefully I have observed him so far, but he certainly knows the dubious messages he is sending with this. It might make me believe that he doesn't hate me nearly as much as I had assumed.

"Theres no need to." He states finally, and his voice now rings with a much healthier depth, indicating that my little trick is slowly starting to reach its goal and pull him back from the edge of the abyss, where he voluntarily danced close to. But this answer is far from enough for me, because again it's just a short sentence that scratches the surface of the problem. I know that he is comfortable with settling the matter with that much, but it never was my strong suit to settle for speculation, so I decide to keep pushing.

"I thought disobeying orders was a serious offense." I vocalize this tiny detail, raising one of my arched eyebrows, conveying perfect disinterest with my whole being. Although I appreciate that, contrary to my previous experiences, he is not coming up with some vile and mean comment to let me know his dislike, but now I'm curious about more than just his curtness. Mainly because my disobedience has annoyed him terribly so far, and I doubt that this current transgression of mine would leave him unfazed, which could have ended much uglier if he hadn't decided to show up.

"It is." Comes another rather informative answer, and when I'm about to open my mouth to tell him how talkative he's become in the wee hours of the morning, his fingers tighten around my hand, almost warning me that he hasn't finished yet. "I thought about leaving you there." He says dispassionately, and with this tiny little sentence, he lets me know exactly what I was already aware of. And when I left the overpass, I departed with this knowledge, because I never even considered that he would come after me. But nevertheless, he stepped in when he was most needed.

"Yet you came after us." I emphasize the obvious, because in the end, despite the fact that I managed to save the Hunter with the mohawk from an early and brutal death with my suicidal action, he had to intervene so that I wouldn't end up dying together with his Scottish friend. And I'm not so naive as to believe that it was his concern for me that led him to the dead-end alley. "MacTavish is lucky to have such a loyal partner. I might even envy him." I note, and I curve the beginnings of a mean little smile on my lips, because that way it might be easier to silence the evil little voices that arise in me, which whisper that Riley would have left me to my fate with the greatest peace of mind, if MacTavish's life had not depended on his appearance. There is such a close bond between the two Hunters, the origin of which I don't know, but I'm aware that they would put their hands in the fire for each other, which is why it's perhaps understandable why he can let go of my punishment so easily. Because I suspect that if he hadn't been almost neck-deep in the remains of the mutants, he would have intervened at the start of the chaos at the beginning of the combat zone.

But before I could delve deeper into the mass of dark little thoughts born in my own brain, mocking me for having the faint and silly idea even for a minute, that maybe he didn't just come to the party of my private rescue mission for his friend's sake, the man's body moves towards me in a rather surprising manner, and I freeze instantly. Every part of me is prepared for the counterattack by the instinctive reflex of defense, and my nervous system is almost automatically attuned to forming a blood clot in the snaking vascular network of one of Riley's vital organs instead of friendly regeneration if the need arises. However, when the brutal attack I expect doesn't arrive even after a few nerve-wracking seconds, I shift my confused eyes to his face. It's only a few centimeters with which he brings his broad shoulders closer as he leans down to me, but even this tiny movement is enough to make me unsteady and focus on the Hunter's body language with every nerve. And when I don't find anything in his mannerisms that would indicate that he wants to kill me, I only stare with growing puzzlement into the pair of brown eyes in which golden sparks swim from the lamplight.

"I didn't go there just because of Soap." He declares, and there is such a significant weight in his voice that I feel that my heart, which is hammering in confusion, skips a beat. Because with this simple expression, he drives away all the clouds of gloomy theories fighting in my head, so that nothing else remains after it, but honest surprise, which I'm unable to stop before it also appears on my face. And I must give a comical sight as I stare at him with slightly parted lips and eyes wide with astonishment, but despite this, he doesn't let my gaze wander and maintains eye contact with unbroken determination, as if he hadn't just made the most benign comment that he has ever said to me. If it weren't for the pull of the smoldering power inside of him, interlocking with my energy, I would quite simply think of this whole absurd scenario as a dream image created by my brain. But it's real, just like the bitter smell of blood and gunpowder emanating from the man and the fiery touch of his skin under my palm.

It takes me a few seconds to snap out of my shock-induced stiffness, and when my gray matter manages to grasp what Riley just said to me, I straighten up in my seat with an amused sigh. For this one confession amounts to a peace treaty, which he nobly offers me, no doubt as a reward for saving his Scottish friend. But I don't care why he had the motivation to tell me this, it doesn't take away from its importance.

"Just be careful, Riley." I utter with a mock warning in my voice, as I regain my confidence and lean forward a hair's breadth, boldly reaching closer to him. And as interest flashes in his eyes, a cheeky smile appears on my lips. "You might end up liking me." I cock my head to de side with sassiness, and when neither anger nor contempt follows my little comment, I know that maybe he wouldn't mind so much if that happened.

And although silence reigns in the room again, and only our shadows dancing on the wall in the warm light break the immobility, this peace doesn't weigh on me suffocatingly. I turn my attention back to the visible network of blood vessels beneath my closed eyelids, letting the waves of the now-calmed power of the Hunter lick at every fiber of my body. For the first time, I feel that neither of us is in a hurry to get rid of the other's company, which lays the hundreds of thoughts in my head to rest. And for a little while, the sounds of exhaustion that are slowly growing inside me are silenced, allowing me to enjoy this idyllic moment.

⃰

My body shakes with another wild wave, as the torturous claw of hunger digs into my stomach again, pulling my insides with such force as if an elephant was trying to press down on my chest. I angrily kick off the blanket that is clinging to my skin drenched in cold sweat, because every square centimeter of the textile that touches me pricks me with the sharpness of a thousand needles. As if I were in a torture chamber where everything wants to make me suffer, instead of lying in the comfort of my soft bed. The air flows into my lungs with moist heat, and with each breath, I get more and more dizzy, because I feel my trachea sticking together from the sticky, disgusting dampness that settles in the silence between the walls of the room.

Of course, my brain, hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, knows that everything is exactly as normal as it was before this hell started, when I returned to my room and after a nice shower, I threw myself on my bed and fell asleep. Because maybe I managed to sleep for a few hours, when with the first rays of the sun, that well-known pain woke up in me, which didn't mean anything good at all. Although it's not surprising that the unrelenting feeling of hunger appeared in me, because I actively worked for my energy to be drained sufficiently. MacTavish's healing and regeneration, Riley's recharging, and the recovery of the other little soldiers meant just enough stress for my little ability, which even though I started the mission with a full stomach, my body couldn't tolerate. And now I get to enjoy the aftermath of this, since Laswell isn't here to give me the only thing that could help this damn situation. The woman is now digging and researching for information somewhere within the walls of the colony, and she will most certainly not come back because I whine because of my rumbling stomach. And since only the all-knowing boss of the base knows the code to that fucking door that stands between me and my snack, I'm forced to wait here writhing until she gets back.

My canines sting with a sharp pain as I think, that I actually have dozens of opportunities to alleviate this suffering, but even my dulled mind is aware that I shouldn't betray the team's trust in me. And even in my current state, I find it quite ridiculous that my instincts can be crushed by the image of the Hunters, because before I arrived here I would have quenched my thirst behind a club with the help of an unsuspecting idiot a long time ago. There would be plenty of such silly little fools here, and all I would have to do would be to lure one of them into a dark corner, stun them, and that's it. They wouldn't even feel it. They wouldn't even know about it. No trace would be left.

And as another torturous spasm twists my insides, I hiss weakly and grip the skin of my stomach, because it feels as if an iron fist would try to tear my intestines apart. My nails tear at the skin of my belly with desperate force, as if that would ease the torture. Although the aching caused by my own abuse doesn't reach my senses, the sweet smell of the blood coming out after my fresh wounds is even more so. Its seductive aroma snakes into my nose, and I impatiently raise my hand to my mouth to clean the crimson liquid off with my tongue. But that doesn't help one bit, and the couple of small bites I stole from myself only push the claws of hunger that stab into me like knives even deeper.

Time crawls forward on leaden feet, and I might even lose consciousness for a while, because by the time I regain awareness, and the fever has subsided from my brain enough to be able to perceive the outside world again, then I become aware that the darkness of the night has engulfed my small room. And it occurs to me that if no one has tried to find me until now, then the woman probably hasn't magically appeared since then either. But the impatient hunger is now demandingly straining inside me, and keeps shouting in my head to go and find something that will finally make this pain go away. And nothing seems like a better idea to my confused mind, which eagerly urges me to move and look for food.

With hasty movements, I peel myself from the tangled fabrics of my sheets and rush to the door with my newfound momentum to tear open the entrance to my room. And as soon as I step out to the hallway, I shiver from the cool breeze that caresses my feverish skin that emerges from under my t-shirt and shorts. I set off almost automatically through the deserted corridors of the base, as if an invisible leash was guiding me towards my goal, promising that at the end of my journey, I would find something that would finally be able to free me from the pain piercing through all my limbs. And for a fleeting moment, it crosses my mind how eerily empty the entire base is, but I can't do anything with this information. Maybe it's better this way, because even my twisted brain understands that if I saw an unsuspecting victim, I wouldn't be able to control myself. I would throw myself on them, sink my teeth into them, and drink from them until the last memory of the hunger tearing at my stomach vanished.

Those few minutes seem like millennia until I finally find my final destination, wandering through the maze of uninhabited corridors, and when the door of the infirmary finally appears in front of my eyes, an almost aggressive temper takes over me. Food is within arm's reach, and nothing can stop the angry voices raging in my skull. This vehement impulse takes me to the threshold of the medical room, and I have no capacity to understand why the door is open, when I almost tear it from its socket and open it, and it obeys my aggressive attack with a loud creak. Without thinking, I enter the noiseless, empty space of the room, and in an instant, my nose senses the faint remains of the scent of blood even through the smell of the disinfectants. And I feel like a wild animal looking for its prey as I catch sight of the beds resting against the walls, ready to pounce on them as soon as I find the source of the delicacy. My clever little nose leads me all the way through the dark room to an abandoned, neatly prepared bed, and I reach for the white bedclothes with impatient haste to pull them from their peaceful position. Although only the dull light of the buttons of the many machines shines in the blackness of the night, it's not a problem for my eyes to discover the few small, brown spots that rest on the mattress laughing at me. If I had an ounce of self-respect left in me right now, I'd find it pathetic that I messed up a fucking hospital bed just because I sensed that the unfortunate injured soldier had left behind a little crumb of that delicacy for which every nerve in me screams with ever-increasing despair. But now I have no self-respect left, only hunger.

The disappointment that settles into my consciousness stops me for a fleeting second, and when I realize that it wasn't my dinner that greeted me under the sheet, then a thick, red fog descends on my brain. Every part of me fills with the heat of this smoldering passion, and it moves my body almost automatically to action, which carries me all the way to the fucking password-protected door. As soon as that damned thick metallic thing appears in front of me, I don't even try the panel, because I know that my fingers wouldn't be capable of the fine motor movements required to press the buttons. On the other hand, the fury in me warns me that there is another way to get in, I just have to try hard enough. And with the keen senses of a hunted beast, I look around the infirmary, so that when my eyes stop on the chair resting next to the doctor's table, I can cross the distance between me and my improvised weapon without hesitation. The heavy piece of furniture seems as light as a feather as I pick it up, and I know that the strength I have when I storm back to the door with the chair is due to the blessed effect of the stress hormones working in my muscles. Without any delay, I raise the seat up, and as I slam it down, the plastic squeaks between my hands. I strike again and again, and with each blow, I only get angrier, and the infirmary's quiet peace is filled with a series of furious snaps and cracks. I feel my mouth contort into a snarl as I methodically destroy the furniture, and the irritation bubbling up inside me doesn't let up until my weapon is shattered into pieces, and I'm left with nothing but the mutilated legs of the chair in my painfully clenched grip.

It takes me a few seconds to realize that I can't continue my assault against the door any longer, and then carelessly tossing aside the shattered pieces of the furniture, I move closer to see if I managed to damage the goddamn metal. But it still looks back at me unscathed, laughing at the miserable and pitiful way I tried to break through it, and I know I never had and never will have the chance to tear down. Only one or two faint scratches are visible on it, and nothing else shows how indignant I attacked it. And that gives me enough motivation to charge at this damned garbage with my bare hands. My fist collides with the door with a dull thud, and not a single spark of the pain radiating from my hand reaches my brain, I just beat the entrance to the storage room with increasing distress, becoming more and more anguished with each passing minute at the sight of my failure. And when the suffering rips into me again, and another agonizing wave of hunger grips my stomach, I fall to the ground along the cold steel with a tortured whimper. My attempted break-in resulted in nothing other than the rapid deterioration of my already poor condition. My pulse is pounding in my ears, and with each heartbeat, the violent grasp that holds my insides in an iron fist becomes more and more suffocating. Fuck….

Suddenly, the rhythmic noise of my panting is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and I break out of my paralyzed self-pity to turn my head towards the gaping entrance of the infirmary in a daze. Although my brain is still not on top of the situation and is slowed down by the dull confusion left behind by the disappearing poisonous fog, I would recognize the outline of the tall figure I see stopping at the doorstep out of a thousand. Riley stands there in the embrace of the darkness behind him, like a spirit freed from the underworld, and as I weakly lift my eyes to him, I can only focus on the skull that glows with eerie vivacity, and I remember that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he snapped my neck.

[absolutely-normal-about-x]

OKAY MY TURN NOW: drop the headcanon deets. What's living rent-free in your head right this moment 👀

HOLY SHIT GOT SHOT BACK- LANDKSBDKAHDKAND

But alright!! There’s so many (Aside from Legends Reborn)

I mostly keep this shit in my head and I can make a huge list of it but dawg most of mine involves my silly interpretations- plus I seen people

It’s kinda a mess to think about but I’ll go to my personal favorites

X being chunky always gives me some feels for me, like he would fucking rock it. He’s actually more tanky then Zero while he’s sorta at times a glass canon (Mf Died like multiple times and X died Once). It derives from the idea of why he chose a thicker body, because the area of his stomach was pierced by Sigma like twice. So basically it gives him extra defense. Despite the it he’s just a Flexible as ever but a bit more slower.

Meaning that his “Stomach” area is incredibly sensitive and he will smack you on instinct if you touch it. He suffers phantom pains occasionally. It's a massive bitch but he got used to it.

(Aka I believe Burly/chunky X supremacy)

X has a soft spot for children okay, since he’s very approachable to children, he would even let them draw on his armor. Babies are a definite weakness of his their tiny hands will make him cry so hard

So it would make sense that he would be a parent but he would rather settle down to start a Family in peace times and after he himself healed and rested.

Zero is kinda a low key creature, in the sense that he actually has retractable claws and can run on fours but only for extremely rare occasions. That's because he’s not only the ultimate war but also the ultimate predator. Aka he’s fucking lion coded

One of the reasons why X and Zero are always different compared to other Androids and shit is because they were made from Alien tech/Energy stuff. You can’t fucking tell that Dr Light didn’t used the material that Duo left to include that while making X right? And Zero…We all know Wily was on some crack (I’m always a believer that He used evil energy to create Roboenza and what could eventually become the Maverick Virus). And no one knew about the whole fiasco with Duo aside from Megaman and the others. So it makes sense that Light and wily (Possible Cossack knew something about it) Used it for their final creations.

Marty (From the MMX manga that I’m absolutely so normal about) has so much knowledge of Marine life and the ocean, Rescue worker regulations and information is insane. How the flying shit did a marine rescue worker end up as an infamous Pirate Queen is a mystery to anyone.

She's also tall and muscular and is absolutely more “Beast-like” (Having scales, fangs and retractable webbed claws) to give off a more intimidating impression to keep folks away from her and her crew.

Speaking of her Crew they are all composed of other marine Rescue types, a couple Human Cyborgs (and a few non cyborgs) and a few Repliforce defectors. (A small fun fact in my silly XxMarty Valentine manatee oneshot, Marty brought up Gale Albatross who’s actually a former Repliforce soldier that defected as soon as they declared independence not wanting to be apart of it but is untrusting towards the hunters).

She may not look like but she genuinely cares for everyone in her crew and would do anything to protect them. She also courted her hair after her fight with Byte back at X3 manga. She has matured over the years but still holds her mischievous/prideful personality.

Contrary to what it's led to believe her crew aren’t like…bad or act like actual pirates. It’s more like they are more of an independent group. Since that they deal with poaching, taking out criminals out of sea, providing relief for coastal communities that were strongly affected by war, etc…They just Red Alert if they weren’t Bounty hunters.

Axl is absolutely a Streamer and a bit of a meme master. He’s a deadly actor and trickster so watch out he fucking glad that he’s a goober!!

Since I’m on a Legends kick

Legends is underrated as shit I mean the potential is great! It’s so fucking expansive Idk where to start-

WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH CARBONS??

LIKE NO ONE IS MAKING HEADCANONS OF THEM AND ITS A CRIME!

I’ll probably do some of mine at somepoint how they are Biomechanical creatures and how they diversified and evolved (The master basically granted them access to things that were lost that belonged to their Reploid ancestors.)

Or how the Ruins can be function as Mystery Dungeons and the different between an Official Digger and a independent Digger and so much wkrbekeheiba)

There’s are what I have but dawg so many in my little critter brain of mine

[fanartalchemist]

back at it again with the #planet m0nd02019 au characters. We got a father and his son, and a drone that can do a lot of tricks, except for speaking. more story below (and a Terrifying surprise art at the end)

Pop & Cub:

Mime:

Things to know about Pop & Cub:

Pop is the only Parent in town, caring for a single infant drone named Cub. Pop would go to the farthest planet in the solar system and back just to protect his only child. His wife died of an unknown cause. He is a Decent father if he is not easily distracted and uses better judgment. Being a parent on their planet is hard, but not as hard as one of his worst Incidents when he had to make a drastic decision.

Before that story, let's get to know his son better. Cub Is the youngest member in town. He likes to be a firefighter when he grows up. he enjoys video games and exploring wherever his dad goes. Mutch like Flippy and Splendid, he has an Active Solver that makes him survive even the biggest accidents that could usually kill him. Cub mostly uses his Solver to move around by spinning his propeller hat and to play with whatever he can get his "hands" on. there are some occasions where his powers have greater potential, but there was only one record where he lost control of his solver.

Pop usually likes downloading different stories to entertain his son with before bed, but one day he had found a USB that contained a Free "story" to download. Little did he know that it was a virus that would corrupt the solver, but it was too late. By the time it was morning, his son was acting strange. He hired Mime to take care of his son since he had plans to head out. while Mime checked on Cub in the kitchen, Petunia was also at his door. She was selling cookies and was hoping Cub and Pop would like some too. Both of them head to the kitchen, only to find his possessed son, mutated into some sort of Tentacle Demon that Tore Mime's head off his body. it grabbed Petunia, but she slipped out of its grasp. Both hid from the possessed child, while Pop called Serial Designation L for help. Sadly, Petunia was found and Was Mauled to death. L finally arrived with the patch and fought the demonic entity. During the fight, Pop saw his cub's face and saw that he was in pain. He came to realize that his son was aware but had no control. Afraid that his son would have to live with the memories of what he had done, Pop had to make his toughest decision. After L removed the thing from Cub with the patch, Pop used that chance To put his son out. Cub came back through regeneration, but he couldn't remember what had happened. Pop had a hard time moving on from that incident, but eventually, has has gotten better. Because of the planet's Curse, everyone who was disassembled is brought to life with no recollection of the incident, except for the witnesses. What happened to the USB with the virus, we may never know. It was never seen since Pop had gotten rid of it and removed memories of where he hid the USB. Hopefully, nobody has to use that Virus ever again.

Things to know about Mime:

Mime Is Considered a great artist on the planet. With the Permanently damaged speech synthesis, he can only communicate by other means like signing, visor text, sound effects, and Mime stuff. He enjoys making people around him smile, whenever he is in a workplace or in public. there are times where he isnt lucky tho, especially when it comes to actually comunicating. for example, he would be the most quietest victim to kill without alerting other drones in the group. that, and he cant warn others about the danger in time unless they payed attention to what he is saying. Being the quiet one is rather difficult.