#random unknown guard number one

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

I honestly wasn’t really planning a villain POV for this but inspiration struck and I couldn’t, like…not write it (>.<) so here we are, in another another POV — enjoy!!

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

“Damn it!” Olivia threw her goggles onto the sand, glaring unhappily at the empty place where the cave had initially been. She was several miles outside of the kingdom, several very long miles outside of it, in fact, and her one hope had been dashed against the very rocks she was now pouting at. The cave had collapsed in on itself for the moment, not to be attempted again just now, leaving just Olivia and one of her scientists with her as the only people to stare at the empty space where it had been just several minutes prior.

Damn it.

“Well. That was a bust.” She said plainly, packing her stuff back into her bag. Olivia groaned again, running her hands through her hair and yanking on the ends of it twice before letting it go. Her scientist looked unamused with her antics, too used to her boss’s weird moods to really care, and threw her bag into the back of the vehicle they’d taken.

“We’ll just have to try again.” Olivia picked her goggles up again, dusting off the sand as she did so. “We tried some of the harder criminals already, but there’s simply too many.”

“A lot of them just aren’t willing to do this.” Her scientist added. She adjusted her own glasses, flicking through the one tablet that still got service all the way out here — Olivia was willing to bet she had some kind of transportable signal with her, there was no other way it worked otherwise — as she went through the system Miguel insisted on keeping. “Especially since nobody’s ever come back. Makes it difficult amongst the ones who’ve been there the longest.”

“So, new route.” Olivia sighed heavily through her mouth, pursing her lips as she thought. “What if we manage someone newer, someone more gullible? Someone who hasn’t been with the rest of the criminal population long enough to hear rumors about this…little outing?”

“That could work.” Her scientist mused as they started the drive back to the castle. “If we caught them early enough, I suppose. But aren’t there criteria that need to be met? In order to even access the cave, we’d need someone who’s rough but kind, idealistic with a basis in reality, flighty yet dependable…that’s a lot to be looking for in criminals, I think.”

“Ah, that’s what it says,” Olivia waved her hand dismissively as they entered the castle gates, “but, I mean…I don’t think anyone I’ve sent down there so far has had any of those qualities. Maybe they’re not as important as we think they are.”

“I suppose not.” The scientist hopped out of the vehicle, leaning through the open window as she did so. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, ma’am.”

“See you in a bit.” Olivia ran her hand over her face again, sighing in frustration.

Wilson was likely to have her head on a pike, if he could manage it in this day and age; he was growing ever more and more irritated with her failures, though she suspected it was for different reasons than her own irritation. He was…incredibly short-sighted, Wilson was, and Olivia couldn’t really fault him that when it was giving her so many opportunities to further her own researches on the side.

Hell, she’d told him, point blank to his face, that he didn’t need to rely on magic and hearsay; if he’d give her people the chance, they could probably build something that could bring his family back (and honestly, it’s been over twenty years…Olivia would’ve thought the man would’ve moved on by now, but…again, funding for research. He was, inexplicably, one of they very, very few counties in the country making any sort of money. The amount of money he was giving her for research meant that she would help him with this project if it meant reviving the childhood dog he’d had for three days if he wanted it, with absolutely no complaint and a smile on her face.)

Anyway, now she needed to go though the criminal population again, just to see if she could get one of those —

She slammed right into Miguel and one of his guards, who were walking quietly as they walked, making them both drop the papers in their hands. Miguel glowered at her, and she narrowed her own eyes back mockingly before all three of them dropped to their knees and began picking stuff up.

Olivia had just picked up a paper with a picture on it — Hobart Brown, the top of it read in Miguel’s very untidy scrawl — when she got a good look at the picture underneath it.

The piercings, the glower on his bruised face, the way his head was tilted away from the camera in order to shine light on the bruises and cuts on his face while still maintaining eye contact with the photographer…

Olivia almost couldn’t breathe. He looked…

He looked perfect.

“Hey! Octavius!” Her head snapped up, eyes wide, at the guard’s hand waving impatiently in her face. She met her eyes, watching as she lifted a brow and, with a teasing tone to her voice, said, “you, uh…planning on handing it back or what?”

“Sorry, sorry, I just — ” She stood up quickly, brandishing the paper at both of them; she held both edges in her hands, displaying the picture prominently as if it wasn’t Miguel’s paper to begin with, as if he didn’t know exactly what was on it. “Who is this?”

“Just some lowlife punk giving the guards issues in the city.” Miguel snapped, snatching the paper from her hand. The guard sighed, sounding disappointed as she rubbed at her temples, but Miguel ignored her. “What do you care, Octavius?” Olivia felt her lips purse as she thought, mind going through different angles as to why she cared without spilling the plan out for everyone to see, but — “Octavius, I’m warning you…”

“I thought I saw him!” She burst out, and they were all stunned into silence. While she had the upper hand, Olivia followed through. “Here, on the castle grounds. Well, outside it, really, but you know, close enough — ”

“You saw him?” Miguel cut her off, showing her the slightly crumpled paper now. Hobart Brown glared at her from the paper, and Olivia followed him with her eyes. He really did look like the ideal candidate, just from the image alone, and she was so excited — “Him? Here — dammit, you scientists — when?”

“I’m pretty sure it was him, yep? Yep! Definitely him.” Olivia felt her head move up and down quickly. She was practically vibrating, she was so excited right now, she just had to — “recognize the-the hair, you know, that hair is very memorable, big, wild, all over — ”

“Olivia, when?” The guard was the one who pressed this time, and Olivia’s eyes darted her way now. She glanced to the side for a moment, arm crossed over her stomach as she pressed a finger to her cheek and thought hard.

“It was…the other day? A couple of days ago?” She made a face, like she couldn’t really remember accurately, “maybe like…a week? Ago? Time tends to move quickly, you know, days all blend together for me! So it was definitely recently, I think, but I don’t know exactly how — ”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” She said, frowning to herself now. “Hobie doesn’t come near the castle, not usually. Why on earth would he — ”

“The Prince.” Miguel said darkly. “He got fed up with the measures he was taking to fight the guards, and stepped up his game to make the king and queen listen.”

“But Hobie wouldn’t — ”

“Whether he did or not, we need to bring him in now.” Miguel snapped, and she looked annoyed that he cut her off. She looked even more upset when he turned on his heel and marched back the way they’d both come from, hand holding tightly to the paper with Hobie’s picture on it. She followed after him though, still trying to convince him that maybe it was all a misunderstanding, but Olivia barely paid it any mind.

She turned and went the opposite way, sending a message to her scientist about another trip out to the cave. Wilson was still likely to be mad at her about her failure, but she couldn’t wait to tell him about the success rate for this last trip.

She had…a really, really good feeling about it.

[sadistic-kiss]

Masked Menace (GhostFace!Sukuna x Reader)

PICTURE IS NOT MINE! IT BELONGS TO THIS BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING GO FOLLOW THEM~

@AnotherDeadBody on Pinterest and @john_vmpre on Instagram.

Summary:

You get a call from a random stranger that leads to your demise…

Or~

For your anniversary you and Sukuna play out the popular scream scene and live out you wildest slasher fantasy. (In a safe space)

GhostFace!Sukuna x Reader

Anime: JJK Universe: AU Pairing: Ghostface!SukunaxReader

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Smuttt 

Kink: CNC, Knifeplay, slight blood play (licking a wound), Mask kink, Strength kink, Choking, Dacryphilia, Degradation

*ingredients given by( AKA Commision by): Starlightaqua ~

Chef Note: It's a bit rough mentally but milk + cookies and a warm blanket is given at the end. (Angsty but not gege <3)

***********************************************************

You lay on your king-size bed, lazily kicking your feet back and forth while watching TV. Ouija origins of evil, playing right before your very eyes.

 “Oh-“ You gasp at the jump scare, nearly flinching out of your skin. You weren’t afraid but it did give you chills watching it alone in your big house at night- where was your silly husband? He should have already been home. You pause the movie bouncing off your bed while you snatch your cell phone. Sticking your feet into your fuzzy pink bunny slippers you padded out of the room and downstairs, texting on your phone.

~❤️Beloved❤️~

Me: Hey where are you? 

❤️Beloved❤️: I’m wrapping things up

Your lips twist as you pout. Maybe you can send him a little motivation. You pose for your picture taking a quick snap of your frilly pink nightgown

Me: *IMAGE SENT*

Me: Get here soon ~

❤️Beloved❤️: MOMMY?! SORRY! MOMMY?!!!? SORRY! 

You let out a boisterous laugh as you set your phone on the counter. Humming to yourself you open your cabinets, bouncing your hip as you look for a snack. “…Tell me what you want what you really really want~ imma tell ya want I want what I-“

*RING RING*

Your eyes drift to your phone as it plays your ringtone. Reaching for your device you looked at the screen, eyebrows furrowed.

Unknown

“Who… the fuck…” You toss your hair answering the phone. “Hello?” 

-“Hello?” A deep velvety voice speaks into your ear.

Your eyes widen at the sexy tone- catching you off guard but for a split second, quickly you screw your head back. You are married! 

“Hi, who is this?”

-“Who is this?” 

You release a snort, “You called me.”

-“Wait…” The deep voice pauses, “…What number is this?” 

You shake your head with a playful tone, “Dude are you high?”

-“I don’t know…” The man chuckles, “…Maybe.”

“Well~.” You say with a little sass. “I think you have the wrong number sir.”

-“Mm, do I?”

“Don’t worry, it happens. Take care.” You pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. ‘His voice was so hot.’ You let out a little laugh as you put your phone down and return to your earlier adventures. As soon as you took one step your phone rang again. You sigh as you see…

Unknown 

Picking up the phone you answer it with a drawled out, “Hellllo?”

-“I’m sorry sweetheart, I guess I dialed the wrong number…”

You roll your eyes putting your hand on your hip. “Sooo~ why did you dial it again?”

-“I just… wanted to apologize.”

“Okay, well I forgive you bye now-“

-“Wait wait-“ The man spoke almost urgently making you pause your thumb on the end call. “-Don’t hang up…”

You try not to smile too much, this guy just had this tone that had your heart stutter. You should hang up. You have a husband after all, but you were curious why he was trying to talk to you. So you humor yourself a little, and ask…

“Why?”

-“I want to talk to you for a second… you gotta cute voice.” Just by the play of his tone, you could tell he was smirking. 

You bite your lip but shake your head, looking at the Diamond ring that caught the light. “They have numbers for that, sorry I have to go now.” You quickly hang up not allowing him to sway you with his tempting voice. You let out a deep sigh, staring at your phone. You expected it to ring again but it didn’t. 

“Well, that’s that.” You whisper to yourself. 

You decide to have popcorn for your movie snack. Getting the box out you grab a pack and toss the empty container in the trash. Opening the microwave you stick the snack inside and shut it, hitting the popcorn button it buzzed to life. 

Dancing your nails on the counter you wait, looking at nothing in particular as you space out. 

*RING RING* 

You flinch from the unexpected noise breaking your peaceful silence. “Gaaaaah.” You stomp to your phone, and what do you know? It’s unknown again! You skip hello and go straight to. “What?”

The man hisses like he has been hurt, or he was smoking something. 

-“Why don’t you want to talk to me, sweetheart?” He exhales letting you know it was the latter. 

You cross your arms leaning against your counter. “Who is this?” 

-“You tell me your name… and I’ll tell you mine.”

You let out a sharp laugh, “Ha! Not gonna happen.”

There’s a little pause as the man smokes whatever it is he’s puffing on. Within that time your microwave beeps and you pop it open grabbing the buttery bag. Ugh, it’s not even fully done. You frown shaking the bag as you toss it back in and slam the door. Pushing the popcorn button two times for option two.

-“Whacha makin'?”

“Popcorn.” You say pushing start. 

-“Popcorn?” He almost sounded surprised. 

“Yah.”

-“I only eat popcorn at the movies.”

“Well… I’m watching a movie now.”

-“Really? Whatcha watching Barbie?”

“Haha because I’m a girl?” 

He snickers as you follow suit with a little bite of your lip walking around your kitchen. Why you were even entertaining this, you don’t even know but for some reason, you may not mind talking to this man. It’s not like you would do anything with him. He’s some random guy probably from a whole different state. Besides, you’re just talking, there’s no harm in that.

-“So? What are you watching?”

 “Ouija the origin of evil, with the little girls.”

-“Huh, a scary movie?”

“Yup, I like scary movies.” You lean on your counter eyeing the expensive knives your husband loves to buy. 

-“They don’t scare you?”

“Nu-uh.”

-“Ooo… a big girl. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Favorite? Hmm…” You hum playing with the biggest knife. “I liked… Split, i know it's not technically a scary movie but it was a cool thriller. James McAvoy killed that role."

-“Ah the guy with the multiple personalities?”

“Yeah, that one…what’s yours?”

-“Mm~ Guess.”

“Uuuum~.” You lick your lips, squinting your eyes as you try to imagine what a guy like this would like. You pop up excitedly shoving the knife back in place, “Strangers!” 

-“Ah~ I see what you did there.”

You chuckle a bit hearing his pleased tone at your little joke. “Hey that movie was kind of freaky, especially that part where it’s like ‘why are you doing this to us ’ and they say-“

-“Because you were home.”

“YES! Aaah! That’s sooo creepy!”

-“Haha yeah I like that movie it was scary…”

“Yeah, the first one but the rest weren’t as great.” You move around your house swaying as you walk, a playful bounce in your step. Gosh, it was like you were back in high school talking to your crush on the phone. There’s something about his voice that keeps you hooked. 

-"My favorite scary movie is Jeepers Creepers."

"Nooo~" You laugh playfully. "I love that movie too!"

-"Yeah? Sing the tune for me."

"Jeepers~ Creepers~"

-"Where'd ya get those sneakers~"

The two of you duet together as you do a little sway, and once it ends you giggle. "Ah~ I love a good horror movie with spooky tunes."

-"Yeeeah me too. Love that burnt fucker with the knives tune too."

You bite your nail playfulling, dragging it over your lip as you think about what you are doing. The girlie butterflies and everything were fine but... you should end this call, your husband will be home any second now. You opened your lips to say your goodbyes but then he asked-

-“Soooo does an Angel like you got a boyfriend?”

You pause mouth falling open, Angel!? Like you? This man was giving you butterflies without even trying! You let out a girlish giggle, “Whyy~ do you want to ask me out on a date or somethin’?” You pick up some mail busying yourself while talking on the phone. 

-“What if I do…?”

You separate what’s yours, fanning yourself with the magazines. “What if I do?”

-“Do you?”

“No.” 

Technically- you weren’t lying. You had a husband. 

-“Good…good…hey, you never did tell me your name…I would really like to know it.”

You toss the mail into their respectable baskets, as you flirt with Mr. Unknown. “Why do you want to know my name?”

-“Because I want to know who I’m checking out.”

Your eyes blink quickly, and your stomach drops. Did he just- “Wh-what did you say?” Your head swivels around quickly. 

-“I… want to know whose sweet voice this is.”

You feel a cold chill run up your spine as you start walking around locking your doors and windows. “Stop it! Th-that’s not what you said!”

-“What do you think I said?”

You gulp hard peeking out of your window, searching for anyone that shouldn’t be there. All you see are dark woods and grassy land that stretches for miles. 

-“Angel?…Hello?”

You pull your curtains closed shaking your head, you don’t like this anymore. This just turned extra creepy. “I-I gotta go.”

-“What? I thought we were going to go out?”

“No, thank you.”

-“Wait-! don’t you dare hang up on me-“

You were already in motion hanging up the phone as you walked swiftly down your hall checking every corner with panicky orbs. 

*RING RING RING*

The sudden noise makes your chest tight, and seeing UNKNOWN on your screen constricts it even more. Someone has to be playing a joke on you! That’s the only logical thing here, right?

You answer the phone, “Who is this!”

-“I told you not to hang up on me.” The man sounded almost irritated with you but you didn’t care.

“This isn’t funny anymore! I don’t know who is pranking me but I’m over this!”

-“What? No no~ this isn’t a prank sweetheart, I just want to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you!” You quickly

hang up marching to the kitchen. 

*Ring Ring*

You grit your teeth picking up the phone, “LISTEN ASSHOLE-“

-“NO YOU LISTEN YOU LITTLE BITCH, YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN AND I’LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH AND EAT YOU! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

You had frozen in fear listening to his sadistic words. Chest rising and falling quickly as you began to freak out. 

-“DO YOU UNDERSTAND!”

He shouted at you again making you flinch. Quickly you uttered a “Yes-“ your voice cracking at the end of it.

- “Yeah…much better.” The unknown man chuckled.

You had to fight back tears as you spoke, “Is…Is this some kind of sick joke…”

-“No… think of it more like a game. Can you handle playing a game with me…pinky?”

You gasped running out into your hall as you duck down low, the only safe place where there was no way anyone could see you. Crawling to your window you peeked out with searching eyes. 

-“Can you see me?”

You swallow harshly, trying to catch your frantic breathing, “You better leave me alone or I’m calling the police!”

-He clicks his tongue, “See you live in the middle of bum fuck nowhere ill be done with you waaaay before they could get here.”

You slide down the side of your wall, holding a shakey hand to your lips, “Wh-what do you want!”

-“To fuck your stupid little brains out.” 

You gasped at the vulgarity pulling the phone away from you as you hung up, tears streaming down your cheeks as you held your knees to your chest trying your best not to panic. 

*DING DONG DING DONG!*

You scream throwing yourself away from the door, crawling down your hall as you quickly get up and clutch your phone to your chest. “Who’s there!” Your voice quivers in terror, but no one answers. “WHO’S THERE!” You shake your head looking at your phone. “I’M CALLING THE POLICE!” 

*RING RING * 

“AH!” You scream fumbling your phone as you quickly answer it. “WHAT!”

-“You should never say ‘whose there’ don’t you watch scary movies- it’s a damn death wish. Your dumbass might as well come out and investigate a straaange noise or something.”

You suck in a heavy breath slowly backing away from your front door. “Look… you had your f-fun now!"

-"Are you crying? You trying to flirt with me or something? That shit turns me on."

" Y-you better leave me alone right now or else!" Your voice was trembling as much as your body was. 

-“Ooor else what?” He taunts. 

“O-or else my husband will be-be here any minute now and he will be pissed!”

-“Aw~ I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?”  

“I have a husband, not a boyfriend! -hiccup- he will be here so you-you BETTER leave!”

-“Suure~ sure…”

You shook your head not liking his condescending tone, “I-I swear! You-hiccup- better be gone! My husband is a fighter and-hiccup- he’s the fucking strongest!”

-“The strongest? Would he beat me in a match~?”

“YES! HE WOULD WIN! HE’D BEAT YOUR ASS!”

-“Oooh~ I’m really shaking in my boots now…” 

You hold your chest with a flat hand, the pain becoming too unbearable. Your words were causing no fear to this cocky bastard, but still you double down. “HE WOULD WIN HE WOULD WIN- SO… s-so-hiccup- you better just leave…!”

-“His name wouldn’t happen to be…Gojo Satoru…would it?”

You inhaled sharply, “H-how do you…how do you know his name…?”

-“Turn on the patio lights…”

You didn’t know what you expected to see and you hoped to the high heavens it wasn’t your husband. And if it was, you hoped that he and his friends would be out there and yell surprise- telling you it was all a prank. Gojo loved pranks. This one was a terrible- terrible- one but you’d forgive him because you’d be so happy that this wasn’t real. You would be relieved. So so-relieved. 

Your shakey hand raises as you walk toward the back sliding doors. Flicking the light on. As soon as you did it illuminated Gojo tied to a chair with blood on his head and tape on his mouth. His blue eyes widen in fear when they meet your own. 

“HM!” His screams were muffled as he tried to wiggle out of the restraints. 

“SATORU!” You cried as you quickly opened the door, but a masked figure came out of nowhere and slammed it shut. 

You seized in shock- face to face with a morphed ghost mask. The man wore an all-black outfit. Tight black t-shirt, black combat pants, black combat boots, and black tactical gloves to finish the look. His muscles were huge- bulging out of his shirt with black tattoos on his arms. Just the sight of him both frightened and compelled you at the same time.

The tip of a very sharp knife tapped the glass shaking you out of whatever spell you were locked in. 

"Hey! Pay attention, sweetheart, I almost lost you there."

"What do you want!" You scream at him.

He shook his head in disbelief. 

"I just told you, what are you deaf? We're going to have a little fun alright? Now turn off the lights and get back on the phone."

Your eyes dart behind him to your beaten-up husband, "Don't hurt hi-"

"TURN OFF THE LIGHTS"

You let out a soft whine as you slide toward the light, fingers shaking as you flick it off. You could no longer see Gojo and the man disappeared into the darkness. Shakily raising the phone to your ear you stare into the abyss of darkness. 

-"Now...as I was saying. Let's make things... interesting. I want to play a game. Some scary movie trivia. If you guess right your husband lives, guess wrong, and... well he dies. Simple right? The first question... I just quoted a movie, what movie is it from?"

You were so zapped, the mental exhaustion taking a toll on you. You heard the man speak but his words lagged in your mind, having a hard time processing everything. Yet you knew he was toying with you, putting Gojo's life in your hands. You sniffled with a painful expression. "I-I don't w-want t-to please-"

-"Aww~ Come on sweetheart you can do it~. I just gave you an easy one. 'I want to play a game'... what movie is that from."

You rub at your eyes, they itched from all your crying, "Uh...It's...it's saw..."

-"Ding ding~ You got it! See that wasn't so hard..."

You felt slight relief but then he said-

-"Last question."

"Noooo!" You groaned in despair, the game was still not over and you didn't think this sick bastard was going to play fair.

-"Alright, who's the killer in Split?"

You jolted up, "Kevin Wendell Crumb! His name is Kevin Wendell Crumb!" 

-"EEEEEH- Wrong!"

"Wait what! Yes! That was his actual name! It's Kevin I've seen the movie a thousand times!"

-"Then you should know the true killer is the beast one of the many split personalities inside Kevin! Say goodbye to your husband!"

He fucking tricked you! 

"NO!" You slapped the light on but you were too late. Gojo had a knife sticking in his stomach as he steadily choked on blood gasping for air. "NOOOOO!" You screamed hitting the glass in frustration.

-"Alright next question."

"I'M NOT PLAYING YOUR STUPID GAMES!"

-"Tch- suit yourself-"

*CRASH*

You screamed as the man crashed into the window like a freight train. Within a flash, you were running, gunning it up your steps. You bust into your room with a gasp throwing yourself on the floor as you slide under your bed. You slapped a hand over your mouth as you heard the heavy boots drum up your steps and plant in your hallway.

 "Oh~" The man drawls, "If you wanted to play hide and seek why didn't you say so? I like this game too..."

 You quickly hang up your phone realizing you are still on the line with the stranger. With your hand suffocating your mouth- trying to trap any sounds from escaping, you shakily unlock your phone.

The man's boots thudded into the room, your eyes widened as you watched them prowl across the floor like a hunting lion. He stopped abruptly, a pair of your pink panties on the floor. "You really like pink doll face." He bent down to pick them up, knees bent as he crouched. You scooted a bit over just in case he looked this way. You heard him inhale deeply- was he smelling your underwear? He let out a pleased sigh, standing up to his full length. "One... two i'm coming for- you!" He kicked in your closet door open the wood cracking loudly with a loud bang.

You quickly began to scroll for your friend's number, she was the closest to you and she and her husband were hunters. Your fingers could barely function as you began to text her. Your nails get in the way or make a loud tapping noise when it thuds on the screen. You grit your teeth wanting to rip them off.

 "Three four you better lock the- door!"

You jolted as he kicked open your bathroom door. Splinters hitting the floor.

*Best Bitch Ever*

Me: Helo helo

Me:Help help

Me:someine is trying to kill me

She had your location, she knew where you were.

"Five six grab your crucifix!"

He was in your bathroom now tearing down your shower curtain. Slowly you started inching toward the door. You froze when he came back into the room singing.

"Seven eight you better stay awake!" he threw off your many pillows, stuffed toys, and blankets. The bed squeaked due to his weight.

You paused in fear, there was only one more spot for him to check. You were practically on the other side of the bed opposite of him. You were getting ready to roll out and run like hell

"Nine ten never sleep...-"

*Ding* Best Bitch Ever Notification!

You froze in horror not realizing your phone was not in silent mode. Everything went still. You didn't dare breathe.

Within the next second, his Ghostface popped down next to you, "There you are ya little bitch!"

A terrifying scream scratched your throat as you crawled to the other side. A gloved hand gripped your ankle as he dragged you out from underneath the bed.

"Never hide under the bad! Another horror 101!" He growled as you screamed kicking your feet wild as your bunny flippers fly off. "Fuck-" He tripped over the pillows, his grip letting up just enough for you to wiggle free and jump up. 

You ran out of the room nearly hitting the wall. Tumbling forward you made a sharp turn to jog down the stairs but in your haste, you tripped on your feet and tumbled the rest of the way. One moment you were fine and the next moment flashed before your eyes and then you were groaning laid out on your back at the bottom of the steps. Your vision was hazy as you rolled your head to look at the dark figure standing at the top of the steps.

His head slowly clocked to the side as he clicked his tongue while tapping his knife against his pants. "Tsk Tsk tsk- carelessly falling down the steps too? My sweet angel, now you're just begging for it." The man began to descend. The sound of his boots dropping heavy with each step had your heart picking up.

A low groan left your lips, your mind trying to come back together as your blurry vision adjusted. Your body aching but begging you to get up. Your double vision adjusted and you were able to slowly get up on your elbows and start to crawl back. "N-no... please-" You beg as he got closer. Your adrenaline rose as you started moving a bit quicker, but not fast enough.

 He was upon you, feet planted on both sides of your frame as you whimpered looking up at this monster of a man. Trembling as you shed more tears begging him over and over again, "Please please please..."

"Aw~" He coos. "Now I know you are flirting with me." He adjusts his hard-on as he lets out a twisted moan. "What would your husband think? Oh wait-"

"Noooohooo ah-!" You cry using your last bit of strength to quickly scurry backward but the man is upon you, dropping his weight on you so he can pin you down.

You scream and thrash and kick and slap and punch and do all you can but the man is an absolute unit. Your fighting doing absolutely nothing to him, but tiring yourself out. 

The man stabs the wood floor right next to your face making you scream in terror. He grabbed your flailing arms and pinned you down by your wrist making you twist and turn, trying to wiggle out. He sat on your hips, your legs kicking wildly behind him. The knife taunting you, right by your very face. You could see your reflection in it as you cried in defeat, settling down. The man was much too strong for you to even do anything. He was sitting on you without breaking a sweat. Watching you with sick fascination. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel it.

"Ya done?" The man chuckled above you.

You say nothing as you pant heavily, staring at the very weapon that just may end your life.

"I asked you a question. Don't you know it's rude to ignore people?"

You gulp down the need to point out the pure hypocrisy of his words. Slowly you nod your head.

"Good." He gives you a light squeeze to your wrist as a warning to his next words, "Now stay still..." He drifts off yanking the knife out of the floor.

You shook your head resuming your fighting, "No no please don't kill me!"

He grabs you by the neck and presses the flat end of the knife against your collarbone. Your head hikes up, afraid to be cut. The message was loud and clear, but he repeated it for you just for clarification.

 "Stay. Still."

You blink up at the black sockets of his mask, hoping he could see your pleading gaze. Hoping it would pull on his heartstrings and he'd show you mercy, but deep down you felt it only truly turned him on more.

He leaned his head as he followed his blade. Guiding it smoothly over your skin. He teased you like a lover would, slipping the tip underneath the thin straps of your skimpy pink gown. 

He jerked his hand-

The sudden movement made you flinch. Your chest quivers as he moves to the other strap to repeat the same movement, but this time you hissed as your flesh stings. A red beading line appears right above your tit.

"Oops..." He breathes, not a hint of remorse in his voice. He leans down, pulling his mask up a bit as he licks at your breast.

"Nh-" You watched his tongue collect the blood greedily. You could see hints of tattoos on his face but then he pulled back adjusting his mask back in place. 

He shifts lifting up as he drags the knife up your thigh. You whimper when you feel it pass by your panties and up further underneath your dress. You suck in your stomach squeezing your eyes shut in fear. The knife glides up in between your breasts, and then he flips it, yanking back as he cuts off your bra and dress. 

You let out a cry as you become exposed. You quickly cover yourself, as the man slides the knife into your panties. He cuts your thigh in the process making you whine.

"Sorry~ Looks like I did it again. Your blood is...soo~ beautiful." He groans swiping his knife through your panties like butter.

You received another cut on your other thigh. "AH-" That one stung. 

You heard a deep growl, as he watched the blood spill a bit. Quickly he pulls back and tosses up your legs by your thighs. With the knife tight in his grip he bends down to again lick at your leg like a dog. He moaned as he switched to your other thigh sucking on the flesh.

You had to hold in a moan, he was so close to your most intimate spot. You could see a bit more of his masculine chin, and something compelled you to reach down and snatch his mask off. You pulled back with a gasp as he looked up at you with red lustful eyes, licking his bloody lips. You couldn't believe how unbelievably handsome he was. Tattoos lined his jawline and even peaked out from his neck. He also had a weird tattoo on his forehead. Pinkish black hair spiked up with an undershave. The devil shouldn't be this beautiful.

 He flashes you a devilish smirk. "Now who told you to do that?" He questions slipping his mask away from you with delicate aggression. "Imma have to punish you for that..." He lifts his knife and licks it. He sounds animalistic- lost in the bloodlust. Excitement sparkles in his eyes as he presses the knife on your stomach, ready to cut.

"Y-You know it's- it's-it's my birthday..." You sniffle weakly.

His head leaned with a questioning cock to it, eyebrows raising. "Is it now?"

You nod slowly, "Mhm..."

"Well? Why didn't you say so sweetheart?" He chuckled sliding the knife in its placeholder around his thigh.

Hope struck you to the core, "A-are you going to let me go?"

He threw his head back in a mocking chuckle, biting the ends of the mask with his teeth as he pulled it back over his head and with one hand. Then he nodded his head. "Sure~... after I fuck your brains out."

You are fueled with frustration and terror as you begin to fight again. He laughs at your futile attempts. You kick off him, flipping over as you quickly try to get up on your feet but he climbs on your back, pushing you down on the ground. You whine and squirm, as he fishes out his cock. You felt him press into your surprisingly wet cunt. Your screams morph into a low moan as he has no trouble bullying his way into you.

"Fuck- are you always this wet angel?" He moans deeply into your ear as he rolls his hips. "Or is it just for me?" 

"Ah-~st-stop!" 

"Stop?" He questions as he does nothing of the sort. "Why would I stop when your pussy is begging for it? don't you hear it?"

You could hear exactly what he was referring to. You were so wet his dick was squelching inside of you, making lewd noises as he thrust in and out.

But you shook your head, "No no! I-It hurts! It hurts!" You were babbling about nonsense too dizzy on his cock to say anything else. 

He already proved his point but he wanted to nail this shit into the coffin. He grabbed your neck from behind, choking you as he pulled you up on your hands. He moved his phone in front of your face, the video recording your very wanton face.

"Look at yourself angel." He chuckled as he bounced you back and forth on his cock. Face maske pressed to your side with his gloved hand around your neck like a choker. "Now you tell me- if this looks like a bitch in pain?"

You looked at yourself with teary eyes, watching this masked man fuck you from behind. Tits swaying as your back arches for more. "N-ah~" You couldn't even speak your words of denial, your mind becoming hazy with it all. Your legs tremble as you feel your body flutter in euphoric flurries.

"Su-" Your vision spots for a split second. Your moans being choked out of you.

"Oh fuck-" The man growled letting you go. You gasped for air as he sat his phone against the wall so you could still watch yourself. Watch as he grabs your hips and abuses your pussy. 

"Fuck-fuck-" He curses as you wail in pleasure, orgasming overcoming you. "That's right bitch-cum on my cock-" 

Your eyes rolled as you came with a shout. The man went into a sort of frenzy. Bucking wildly as he chased his high. 

"Please ah-no! Don't cum in me! Take it out!" You scream in horror.

He let out a loud moan, flinching as he did exactly what you said not to do.

"Nooooh~" You whine feeling his cock twitch inside of you, filling you up with his seed. You drop your sweaty forehead to the ground, panting.

The man went soft inside you, yet he didn't pull out. Keeping you plugged up with his cum. You felt him shift forward, his knife coming around to sit on your neck as you gasped pitifully. "Why-why me?"

He chuckled in your ear, "Because... you were home..."

You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you slowly raised your hands into a triangle shape. "Domain expansion: Safespace~"

Right after you said that both of you laughed.

"Did you like that?" Sukuna pulled off his mask as you looked back at him with loving eyes. 

"I~ Set it up for you, what else were you going to say?"

"Don't be sassy with me."

You giggle as he pulled back, sharing a sweet kiss followed by multiple pecks. Then he was pulling out of you, tucking himself away. Helping you up. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine." You smile as he bends down to scoop you up in one arm.

"I didn't cut you too bad? You used our soft safeword." He questions you earnestly, walking you into the kitchen as he sets you down on the marble counter.

Yes- It's my birthday- was your 'soft' safeword. It was used in a way to not completely take you guys out of role play but to shift whatever was going on. At that moment you were nervous about getting cut more. "I know~ How much you want to carve your name into me Sukuna." You look at him with a playful glint in your eye.

He chuckles, "If you aren't ready for it it's fine baby, I just want to make sure you are okay. I don't want to push you to something you aren't ready for. I mean, I got three cuts off before you called it." He speaks while grabbing the first aid kit and tending to your wounds. 

You twist your lips feeling as though you failed him by using your soft safeword. Guilt tickles your stomach.

"Aye." Sukun taps your chin with two fingers, "What's with the face? That's one more cut from last time?"

You shrug. "I guess... i just feel like i ruined it... ya know?"

He grabs your face between his hands, so you can't look away, "I can do without the cutting, it doesn't matter. I enjoyed this entire night baby. Did you?"

You give him a little laugh, "I mean could you not tell by how wet I was?"

He nodded his head with a sly lick of his lips, "Yeah, you were hella wet. I heard you almost said my name."

"I know! You should've given me your name so I could have said it! Ugh!"

Sukuna gives you an evil laugh knowing just how much you love to say his name during sex. "Thought it be fun if I were nameless." He gives you a quick peck going back to your cuts.

You roll your eyes with a huff, "So mean to me~Also! For the record that fall downstairs was not planned!"

"I know I was waiting for you to say the safeword so I went a bit slower."

"I know~ Thank you~." You throw your arms around his neck as he slots between your legs. "I love you so much~"

"I love you too... happy anniversary."

He circles his arms around you as he leans in to kiss you deeply. 

There was a loud bang separating the two of you.

Soon Shoko ran in holding a shotgun toward the two of you, "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU SICK-"

"Domain expansion safe space."

"Oh." Shoko stands up straight laying her gun on her shoulder. 

The three of you chuckle as Shoko looks around the house, "Damn Sukuna you fucked this place up."

"He busted through the window!" 

Sukuna nods his head, "I always wanted to do that- but I'll fix everything-"

Getou came running in on the other side of the kitchen, "GET AWAY FROM HER-"

"Domain expansion safe space!"

"Oh- you couldn't have texted us before we got here?"

"We like just finished!" Sukuna took off his shirt so you could pull it over your nude body.

Getou sighs dejectedly, "Man I really wanted to shoot you this time."

Sukuna rolls his eyes, "Maybe next time."

The couple wished you guys a happy anniversary one last time before they said their goodbyes, and departed.

Crawling into bed together, you snuggled up next to Sukuna with a satisfied hum, "Just for the record I did know that the beast was the killer in the movie." You pop your lips making your husband chuckle. 

"Sure you did~"

"You know that's my favorite movie-"

"HELLO~ what's the safeword again?! my arms are killing me and I have to piss!"

Both of you pause as you hear a voice from outside.

"Did we leave Gojo tied up?"

"Eh~ Let's leave him out there till the morning."

You heard a sound click as the sprinklers turned on followed by a pitiful scream.

"PINEAPPLE! JUSTIN BEIBER- AH JENNIFER LAWRENCE?! WHAT'S THE DAMN SAFEWORD!?

You sigh as you pick up your phone, "I'll call Shoko."

~~~~~~

[kewrnage]

revival of hearts.

synopsis. ever since jason formed the outlaws, he thought his love for you slowly slipped away, especially in artemis' presence, but then he realized something that's because of you.

꒰ pairing ꒱ — jason todd x fem! reader.

꒰ genre ꒱ — angst with a happy ending.

Should you truly act as if everything is fine? You genuinely don't know. 

Those many months he spent apart from you felt like ages, since it had almost been a year for him without your touch. It lingers, the way his thumb would brush against the back of your hand so delicately. You missed it, dearly.

You couldn't utter his name without disbelief. Only his face, with some long-lasting war scars. Jason, it merely comes an expression of incredulity, just like the day he told you you were trapped in another's loving hand. 

Until now, your heart had been unable to bear the weight of the anguish struck in your chest, caught in the liberation of a broken heart, that he had found another, just right when he had said it right to your face on that meet up. He did fine without you. Artemis must've been a great company to him.

Is he actually to blame? He is, after all, a vigilante, which means he gets a lot of chances to meet fresh faces. You'd always assumed that the two of you shouldn't be in proximity, that a vigilante and a regular citizen couldn't prevail, and the uncomfortable truth became a reality. 

It had been a year since you haven't seen him, though such a thought would linger in the most random moments. Since you failed to let him escape your mind— his image still haunts you, his name still spoken amongst the stories from the underworld and in the dark alleyways.

Because you blocked his number, the plethora of missed calls and text messages couldn't reach you, blinded by your pride and anguish, you didn't know. and he merely abandoned what the two of you shared.

Though, toward the end of Jason's journey with the Outlaws, an unconfirmed connection he had with Artemis, eventually came to a finality too. Their hearts were linked, but for a brief time, they thought everything about them was platonic.

Artemis bid goodbye to Jason with an epiphany realization of their tie on the eve of their departure, imploring him to return to you no matter what, telling him that perhaps his true home was in your psyche. They parted ways after that. It is unknown when fate will bring them back together.

But, for the time being, Jason allowed himself to bask in the afterglow with his erstwhile comrades before attempting to discover and stand in your path once more.

He spent a week separating himself from you and gathered ideas for ways to get you in touch with him again.

As the sun shone brightly, you stood out among the golden daytime crowd, with strands of light falling on your hair and eyes. A few feet away, he had seen you with both of his eyes and was suddenly caught by the actualization that he too missed you.

He was drawing nearer to you gradually as you followed closely behind the crowd. His feet were betraying him; he isn't quite ready yet, but this will be the turning point.

A hand abruptly made contact with your shoulder, causing you to be frozen in your steps. Your curiosity was piqued by the lovely parole of your name, prompting you to turn around as your eyes met those softened gazes of piercing pupils cast in your way, which was a bit close to you.

You stayed motionless for a nanosecond until you recognized the person in front of you—the one who was there in your voyage of amorous reverie, which you thought had ended. It caught you off guard since your heart was bursting out of your throat and dropping out of your chest at the same time.

In front of you, he stood tall yet his heart was weak. "I'm sorry for all those months I couldn't get to you," he continued, regretting in tone and eyes that he never returned. He can imagine the content look on your face when there hasn't been conflict between the two of you in those earlier times.

Despite the fact that it failed to convince you to forgive, doubts still remained as evident in your trembling voice when you questioned, "and I waited for nothing. Were you happy with her?" Your uneasy sigh accompanied the inquiry.   Witnessing you in such a state, where your heart visibly sank due to the distressing memory of his departure, caused him distress as well.  

He hesitated upon being asked that question sincerely. Despite the lingering emotions within him, Jason felt compelled to respond truthfully, confessing that he still holds deep affection for you. "Yeah," he murmured softly. Anxious, you await his subsequent answers, desperately attempting to prevent tears from blurring your vision.  

"But I realized," he mused wistfully, tugging at his lips with a hint of bitterness, as he delved into memories of his encounters with Artemis. Despite the passing of several months, thoughts of you lingered in his mind, yet articulating them seemed unattainable at present; the elusive words he sought eluded him still. 

"She was just a companion, a friend, a sister..." He let out a long breath, acknowledging his defeat with a firm expression. With deeper exhalation, he confessed, "Even if I was with her, I still think about you." His words continued to reveal the truth, and the heavy feeling on his chest disspated, providing a slight sense of comfort, albeit he remained conscious of your startled response. He knows, it was a lot for you to take in.

You stayed hesitant, both of you fortifying for yourself against your apparent sudden outbursts. "I know I made a mistake but will you give me a chance to make it up to you?" This question, you've yearned to listen to, although your gaze betrayed you as tears of warmth streamed down your cheeks, you quietly sniffed. You were still angry with him, but you couldn't reject the fact that your affection for Jason still existed.  

He feels pain witnessing your current state, especially when he is the cause of your tears. Unsure of how to help, he scooped you into his arms tenderly while you continue to weep, releasing all your whirl of emotions with each teardrop. He remains steadfast, ensuring that you won't slip from his warm and safe grasp.  

Jason displayed patience as he awaited your calmness, gently stroking your back in an attempt to bring you comfort.   His heartache for you slightly diminished when the tears in your eyes dried off.  

"Are you okay?" Was all he could manage was to witness your attempt at regaining composure, yet you remained entangled in a state of fragility, you hastily nodded. He sighed in a slight relief. 

"I promise, I'll make it up to you no matter what." He added, as he hadn't allowed his arms branch out, but was still securely curled about you, as you buried your face in his chest, allowing yourself to be alleviated by his tender touch. This causes his lips to curve into a contented smile, and because you seek solace in his touch, he is more than happy to oblige.

[positivelyprime]

I think I found some interesting fun mathematical problem, and I could not find any literature on it.

Ok so I was thinking about the two guards riddle where one always tells the truth (guard T) and the other always lies (guard F). These guards protect a crossroads where one road is correct and lets you live and the other leads to death (or at least, wasted time). The worst part: you only have one yes-no question to ask.

The (or at least a) correct answer to this riddle is no doubt familiar with several of you: Ask one guard "If I asked which road leads to freedom to the other guard, what would he say?". This works as follows:

- Asking this question to T will lead to them saying the wrong road, as that is what F would say.

- Asking this question to F will lead them to lie about the correct road T would point to, saying the wrong road.

In either case you get the wrong road, so you simply pick the other option.

Now here is where it gets interesting, how can we generalize this problem? One way to do this is to increase the number of guards as follows:

Suppose we have k guards, with n truth-guards T and m false-guards F (n,m > 0 unknown) guarding two roads. Can we find the correct road with one yes-no question?

The main trick employed in the 2-guard problem cannot be used as it relies on there being exactly one guard of each type. However, if you ask two random guards there is now a possibility they are a TT or FF pair, in which case they will point to the right road instead.

I tried finding some kind of nested question ("if I ask the guard on your right: if I ask the guard on your right what road leads to freedom") but couldn't quite put my finger a good question to ask. Another promising method would be to incorporate some kind of boolean operators (such as AND and OR) to make a perfect question, however this turned out to be hard to do for arbitrary k.

I would love the input of anyone reading this who found textwall this interesting!

[mikhailwrites]

Waiting for Connection 13 / Ghost x Soap

Ghost is retired and plays milsim videogame. Soap is still in the force and sometimes plays that same videogame...

Disclaimer: I've played a lot of Ghost Recon Wildlands this past weekend (damn, I almost forgot how much I love that game) and it shows :D

Previous chapter | AO3

Ghost plays much less in the following days. Instead, he spends the majority of his time in the mission editor. The new mission is going to be much bigger and more complex. Ghost raked his memory until he came up with a perfect scenario for a fire team of five. It’s an amalgam of several missions he’s done. Hostage rescue from a heavily fortified base with little to no intel. Difficult terrain, lots of guards, unknown layout of the compound.

He builds the base meticulously on a rocky hill overseeing a valley, with watchtowers and unclimbable walls with coils of razor wire on top. Oh, and there are cameras along the perimeter wall, too—absolutely the worst tactical situation.

Ghost places the A. I. controlled enemies throughout the base. Some walk in pairs, some go solo, and others oversee the situation from a vantage point. Most of them have visibility on another patrol at any given time, and their paths cross here and there. They have good weapons on them, but the base also has some pretty nasty surprises.

As a cherry on top, the hostages are civilians, so he adjusts their stamina to be lower than the default setting for the soldiers. He also can’t forget about the exfil, placing checkpoints and random patrols along the way. The mission won’t be over until they manage not only to free the hostages but also to cover some distance so the extraction helo will be able to land safely.

Frankly, if Ghost had been given this mission back in the day, he would have told his CO that it could not be done. The only way would be to wait for the enemy to transfer the hostages and intercept them. In this instance, however, they’re going to tackle it head-on. He’s done his fair share of miracles and impossible missions, but this right here? That is absurd, which is why it’s going to be so much fun.

Especially since there’s only one way for him to play it with all the knowledge he has: he’s going to be on the other team. The defending one. And with a little luck, he’s going to have a teammate, too, apart from the AI.

It takes him a week to fine-tune it to perfection. Or, well, as close as he can get with AI guards. There are a lot of them, but they wouldn’t pose all that much of a threat to a well-trained and professional unit. He’s so immersed in the preparation that he even turns down John’s numerous offers to play together. As much as he’s sorry and misses his voice and stupid jokes a little, this is going to be so much better.

Right now, he only needs to confirm one last thing—the piece de la resistance. Ghost takes his phone and dials the number. Honestly, Soap is doing wonders for his social life. Simon knows that Kyle will call him out on it soon, but it doesn’t matter. If it goes smoothly, the payback will be very much worth any and all ridicule from his former Sergeant.

The call is actually not very long at all. Because Kyle always has been and always will be up for some good old fun. Especially on the account of men under his command. He accepts Ghost’s offer for a 2v4 match under one condition: the boys can’t know it’s him. Simon happily agrees.

Finally, the day comes. Simon joins the voice chat and receives a warm welcome.

“Almost thought you’d fallen from the face of the Earth,” Soap jokes, yet his voice is slightly serious. Maybe Simon wasn’t the only one who missed the other’s voice and jokes.

“No, but I’ve been working on another mission,” Simon says as casually as he’s able.

There’s an excited “ooooh,” from Rudy, who, apparently, managed to get a new headset in the meantime.

“Don’t leave us hanging, mate,” Roach joins in, albeit keeping his cool, at least for now.

“This one is a bit different. Here’s the briefing,” Ghost uploads several files. It’s a briefing stack, alright. Map of the area, outline of the mission, and all the details the non-existent command has on the mission. Which is not much, really. Also, photos of the hostages and some bullshit story about them having information on a local drug cartel. He waits until the first person gets to the part of the brief where it says that there will be four operators.

“Wait… four?” Soap asks, audibly confused. “But there’s five of us?”

“I’m relieved you can count to five, Johnny,” Simon smirks. “That’s correct. I won’t be joining you. It would hardly be fair since I created the mission, no?”

“Uhm… I guess? But… why design a mission if you’re not going to play it?”

“I didn’t say I’m not going to play it. I said I won’t be joining you. See you in the lobby,” Simon says cheerily before he disconnects from their voice chat. He is going to have his own, after all.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Gaz greets him, his grin audible in his voice. “Ready to kick some ass, Ghost?”

Simon closes his eyes for a moment and feels the corners of his mouth lift in a smile. God, so many memories. And it feels pleasant and warm, this years-old familiarity. They saved each other’s lives many times, shared so many pints, so much banter, and some hurt and misery, too.

“Let’s show them how it’s done,” Simon agrees as he joins the lobby along with Gaz, who has a completely inconspicuous nickname of GhillieMan854. As soon as he sees all six of the players in the lobby, he starts the game.

Ghost didn’t spend the week just tweaking the mission; he was also easing Gaz into the game. Luckily, the Lieutenant was always good at picking up technology-related skills, so it was a fairly quick process. They also discussed the strategy and their roles. Both of them can efficiently work alone, and that is what they’re going to do. Lure the unit in, let them think they have everything under control.

Just a few minutes after the start of the mission, it starts to rain. Just as planned. It’s not just any rain, too. A downpour bad enough to lower visibility to shit. Ghost slips out of the base and disappears into the jungle just behind the walls. Kyle might have a “Ghillie” in his nickname, but it’s Ghost who’s wearing a ghillie suit. As he takes the position on a small hill hidden in the forest but with good visibility of the base despite the weather, he becomes pretty much invisible. Thermal vision would be the only way someone could spot him; too bad it’s raining hard enough to render thermal useless.

Now he waits. Just like Gaz waits, hidden somewhere inside the base, silent and deadly. They have the comms, but it would be stupid to talk shit now. They need to listen closely.

For the next thirty minutes, nothing happens. Ghost is sure the unit is scoping the area and studying the guards' routes, who are not too keen to stay in the rain. The rain, that is gradually losing intensity until it morphs into a mere drizzle. Ghost remembers how miserable he’d been years ago, alone in the Bolivian jungle. Drenched to the bone, cold and tired. That’s the undeniable magic of video games; you can do whatever you want while sitting in the comfort of your home. That, and you probably won’t die playing them.

Ghost looks through the scope, carefully checking all probable points of breach he can see from his position. Then he hears a faint rustle to his left. He freezes. Another rustle. A little bit closer. If they have a thermal on them, he’s fucked. If not… Simon smiles but stays completely still.

Soon enough, one man enters his field of view. It’s hard to say who it is, but Ghost is more concerned about the number rather than identity. Did they actually split up instead of creating two teams of two people, like the brief suggested? That would be either very stupid or very clever. They would play Ghost’s expectations, but at the same time, they would be much more vulnerable. It could also be a trap. The bloke in front of Ghost could be bait, with a partner waiting nearby. If Ghost makes a move, he could either take the man down or be killed before he gets to him.

Ghost opts for patience. But he can’t resist taking a screenshot. He loves the feeling of having an advantage. The moment right before he seizes the opportunity, knowing with absolute certainty he’s going to prevail. This is what he feels now. Yet he’s careful. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody turned the tables on him. The man moves forward, looking cautiously around him. He can’t hope to see Ghost. Not a chance.

However, Ghost is now reasonably sure he’s alone. Good. Painfully slowly, he lowers his head to the scope. Slower still, he turns the silenced, foliage-covered rifle a little bit to the left. Strictly speaking, he could do that shot without the scope; the bloke is close enough. Better not risk anything, though.

Ghost caresses the trigger, taking a breath, holding it.

The sound of a silenced shot is lost in the sounds of the jungle: one down, three to go. And Ghost needs to change position.

When Ghost chimes in, Gaz is sitting in the control room, looking at the monitors with camera feeds. “Got one. Seems they split up.”

“Bold,” Gaz grins, fully aware that Ghost and he are doing exactly the same thing. Three highly trained operatives? Could be anywhere. Gaz takes his SMG and goes on a patrol. It would actually be hilarious if they mistook him for an AI. Gaz wishes they would. He would’ve given them so much hell.

The guards are on the same team as he and Ghost, so they ignore him, and Gaz does his best to imitate the lifeless guards. The rain has let up, but the dusk has fallen. Strong lights come to aid, illuminating the base with white light.

Gaz is vigilant but not overly so. That could tip them off. He makes a round and starts back to the main building where the hostages are held. He sees one of the guards on the right stop. The AI-controlled body hesitates before the programming commands him to investigate whatever seems suspicious. Gaz also remembers his plan and stops, pausing and following the guard. Could be nothing.

Unless… there! A movement behind a tent. Time to play. Gaz drops lower and slowly makes his way around, SMG poised to shoot anything that sticks its head out.

He seems to be in luck. As he rounds the corner of the tent, sure enough, there’s a soldier there. With his back turned to Gaz. What a treat. Now, Kyle could make it fast and painless, but that would also mean loud since he doesn’t have a silencer on his weapon – that would set him apart from the bots. So, instead, he whips out a knife and presses the key for the slowest, quietest movement possible. He’s barely breathing, staring at the display, clutching the mouse way too tight as he crosses those last feet.

The bloke turns in the last second. Kyle can see the jolt of surprise in the movement, but this is a very skilled operator he’s dealing with. The rifle comes up, Gaz immediately dives forward. The knife finds the target, slashing the leg. A burst of gunfire misses Gaz narrowly. He won’t be so lucky next time. Switching back to the SMG, he doesn’t even have time to aim; he just pulls the trigger, sprays and prays.

The soldier staggers and tries to disengage. Gaz is not going to allow that. Rolling on his back, he aims upside down, and another salvo hits. The man is done for. A second later, a bunch of bot-guards show up. “Thanks for the help,” Kyle mutters, then informs Ghost. “Got one, too.”

“Good, they’ve managed to take out the lights by the back entrance, probably some of the bots, too. Might be close to the hostages now.”

“You going to greet them on their way out?”

“Already in position. I think that was their strategy: distract us and grab the prize.”

“Could be. Risky as hell, they lost two teammates, but if they were fast enough, might just work.”

“We will see,” Ghost muses, and he sounds like he’s really having fun. It’s nice to hear.

As a matter of fact, Soap and Alejandro are close to the hostages. So much so that they’re already leading them to the small hole in the perimeter wall. Ghost has placed several because this is supposed to be a bit of a run-down place in the middle of nowhere, not a high-tech prison.

Alejandro is taking the point as Soap ushers the package to walk faster and be quiet. They haven’t heard from Rudy or Roach, meaning they probably didn’t make it. It sucks, but it’s just a game, and they agreed that they will win this, no matter the cost. Who dares wins.

Soap is promptly reminded they’re far from safe as a bullet ricochets from the wall nearby. Sniper. Fuck! “Sniper!” he hisses into the comms, laying on the ground and taking the hostages with him.

“Where?”

“East, bearing one-ten-ish,” Soap makes an approximation.

“Okay, I’ll cover you; get to the jungle; we will lose them there. On my mark,” Alejandro hides behind a rock. “Now!” he gets up and fires somewhat blind in the direction Soap told him.

The Sergeant gets up, orders the hostages to do the same, and runs to the tree line. It’s not far, thank god for that.

“Fuck!” Ghost curses as he misses the soldier’s head. Stupid mistake. He prepares to change position the moment the second soldier opens fire in his direction. Ghost ducks, but a lucky bullet still finds him. It’s not fatal, but it’ll definitely hinder his movement. “Bloody hell… Gaz, get to the eastern wall. I’m hit, but we can still get them.”

“Rog,” Gaz confirms, easily slipping back to Ghost being in command. It’s how they served for many years, after all. Yet he knows who he can get away with. “Hold on for me, old man.”

Gaz arrives some two minutes later and patches Ghost up. Good thing he equipped the first-aid kit. “So, how do you want to play this?”

“Good old manhunt,” Simon smiles, shouldering the rifle.

“I’m up for that,” Gaz agrees. “Think they’ve changed the LZ?”

“No, the jungle is too dense elsewhere. Let’s go.”

Soap and Alejandro trudge through the jungle. It would be much less of an issue if the bloody civilians could keep up. Damn Ghost and his attention to detail. The escape was exciting, Soap would even go as far as to say it really rattled him a little.

But now they just make their way through an endless sea of green. Well, it’s mostly black now since night has fallen. Luckily, they brought night vision. The jungle in the eerie greenish-white and black tones is almost ethereal. But they can’t stop. It’s still quite a long way to the extraction point and Soap seriously doubts that Ghost and his friend are going to let them win just like that.

Ghost’s friend. Hm. Soap finds himself thinking about the unknown variable. Well, he assumes it’s Ghost’s friend, but it could be anybody, really—even some random bloke. No, no way, Ghost wouldn’t invite a random to a custom-made game with his friends. Who the hell is it? Someone from Ghost’s past? A fellow retired soldier? If he has someone like that, why did he never mention them?

“Soap? Focus, hermano, you’re thinking too loud,” Alejandro chides him, and deservedly so.

“Aye, sorry,” Soap answers sheepishly.

Ghost and Gaz track their prey like professional hunters. They, too, have night vision on them. And they know the terrain better. They are quiet, brushing through the undergrowth, guns in their hands. Their great advantage is that they can move quickly and silently. The civilians the other group is dragging along are bound to make some noise.

And they do. Footsteps are easily discernable in the background noise of the jungle. Ghost signals to Gaz to stop. They listen, gauging distance and precise location. Ghost makes a decision, gesturing to Gaz to go around. They will flank the group.

Alejandro stops and looks around.

“What is it?” Soap asks, looking around as well. He can’t see anything. Anything but trees and undergrowth.

“Not sure,” Alejandro says. Then there’s a burst of bullets from SMG, tearing through the night like a disembodied terror. “Mierda!” Alejandro cries out as he’s hit.

Soap turns immediately, finger on the trigger. At the same moment, someone tackles him on the ground. The last thing he sees is a swirling mass of foliage very loosely resembly a man and then a glint of a knife.

Alejandro tries to stand but is immediately mowed down by the SMG.

That’s a game over for the rescuers.

Have a little bonus of totally-not-Soap from Wildlands :)

[callivich]

🎭 Gallavich Masquerade Event Prompts 🎭

Prompts for @gallavichthings Gallavich Masquerade Event!

Here are a selection of optional prompts that you can use for the Gallavich Masquerade Event! Interpret these however you like and feel free to use them as just a jumping off point, you don’t have to stick to the exact prompt!

Mickey comes out of juvie for the first time and feels more jealous that he realises. One glimpse of Ian just talking to Kash and Mickey knows he wants to take the next step. He decides to kiss Ian.

Despite the fact Mickey doesn’t want to move to the West Side, he adjusts to it surprisingly quicker than either of them would have imagined. Weirdly, Ian finds himself unhappy living there.

Sammi never reports Ian to the army. Instead of their date, Mickey suggests a trip. It’s nothing fancy - just a seedy motel - but it helps Ian all the same.

Ian doesn’t work at a regular club, it’s a club where everyone is in masks. But it doesn’t take Mickey long to track Ian down in the crowd, even if Ian wants to pretend he’s not who Mickey thinks he is.

Mickey and Ian have always been close friends as kids, when Mandy accuses Ian in s1 of messing with her, Mickey feels pressure to defend his sister but is there something else going on?

S6. Ian keeps getting random text messages from an unknown number who won’t give a name, but he’s feeling lonely so he responds. It’s strange but the texts remind him of Mickey. But Mickey’s in jail, he doesn’t have a phone. Or does he?

Fiona comes to stay with Ian and Mickey in their new West Side apartment. Ian goes through a bit of a depressive episode. Fiona gets an insight into how much Mickey cares for Ian and what married life looks like for them.

They don’t go through with the born free robbery because Lip and Mickey get in a car accident, Ian is angry that his husband is injured and that he could have been caught doing something illegal.

Early seasons - Ian’s been arrested for something he didn’t do. He was at a baseball game with Mickey, who still has their ticket stubs. But can Mickey bring himself to be Ian’s alibi? And will the cops even believe him?

Ian wants everything to go perfectly with Mickey once he gets out of jail in s10. He suggests they even hold off on the sex so they can have a few dates first. Mickey is sceptical but it turns out dating is kinda fun….

Post-finale, Mickey and Ian are contacted out of the blue via email to provide their security services to an up and coming company. They are very surprised when they show up for their first job and find that Svetlana is the manager.

S8. Ian gets involved with a rich, older man who offers to take him on a free trip to Mexico. He’s not going to turn down a free vacation, especially one to the same country Mickey is in. Obviously, Mexico’s a big place but it doesn’t stop Ian keeping an eye out….

Ian’s seen all different kinds of drunk Mickey over the years - angry, sleepy, loud, funny. But it turns out fancy cocktails on the West Side are bringing out a new drunk Mickey - flirty and sappy. Ian kinda loves it.

Mickey gets a deal instead of juvie - he has to complete summer school and accept tutoring. Ian manages to wrangle his way into being Mickey’s tutor. Ian is pleased to see just how smart Mickey is, while Mickey gets worried when he realises his feelings for Ian are deeper than he thought.

Early seasons - both of them secretly make a New Year’s resolution. What they don’t realise is that their resolutions have a lot of similarities…

The guard Mickey seduced to break out of jail the first time has discovered Ian and Mickey are married. She starts to send letters. Mickey brushes it off but Ian worries…has Mickey got a stalker?

When Ned dies, he leaves Ian some money in his will. Mickey thinks he should accept it, but Ian’s not so sure….

Ian injures himself during ROTC practice in the abandoned building, it’s up to Mickey to take care of him.

S4. Ian doesn’t want to be found but he can’t stop thinking about Mickey. So he’s sending anonymous letters every other day. Mickey knows the letters are from Ian but doesn’t know where he is. One day, Ian gives a PO Box address, Mickey writes back….

Ian and Mickey are both placed at Old Army. How long will it take for their coworkers to realise they’re in a relationship?

Operation Matchmaker a.k.a Ian and Mickey try to help Debbie and Sandy get back together. They may or may not be successful and they may or may not learn something about their own relationship in the process.

S11. It’s Ian who comes up with the idea of a prize for the winner of their stupid video game competitions but it’s Mickey who makes it interesting….

They get married at city hall. But Mickey’s acting weird….after some miscommunication, Ian figures out it’s because he wants a wedding.

Post-prison, s10. Ian notices Mickey is struggling adjust to finally being free.

Early seasons - It must be the great weed that Mickey had stolen from Iggy, that has to be the only reason he’s answering each and every stupid question Ian asks on a warm summer evening.

➡️ More Gallavich prompts here! 👀

[blushinggray]

change of plans: part 4

the fuckboi!sero saga continues…

sero hanta x fem!reader

part 4/? (part 3 | part 1)

This game of back and forth you keep accidentally playing with Sero is becoming a headache. You're running circles around yourself, so you wonder if you should just bite the bullet and give in.

cw // slight angst, denial of feelings, sero with piercings

—

He called you that very same night after you got home from Jirou's place.

"You know, it's still not too late to invite me over." He teased directly into your ear from the phone speaker. You could only hope he didn't hear you shudder from it.

"I'm going to bed, so I don’t think I’d be able to entertain you, Sero. Goodnight."

"Alright then.” He had chuckled, the rumble so close to your ear that you could almost feel it, “G'night, beautiful."

He said it sweetly, but something in your gut felt weird about it. Not in an excited, butterflies kind of way, either. You tried not to think much of it since you really did go to bed soon afterward anyway — one of your deepest sleeps ever — but the feeling started sinking deeper when he didn't actually call you the next day.

Actually, he didn't contact you at all for a good few days until you got a totally random text out of nowhere from an unknown number. You replied within the hour and had a little back and forth with him through text, but he stopped responding after a certain hour, leaving you to brew and marinate in your own thoughts and ruin the rest of your day.

Now, over a week later, it's safe to say that you are absolutely fucked over him. He’s inconsistent with his texts, you can’t get a whiff of pot without replaying that kiss in your mind, and you even get irritated seeing people with digital cameras because you suddenly wonder if that’s what Sero would look like when taking taking photos.

Not a day has passed without him occupying some part of your mind — both waking and dreaming — and you are sick of it! Why do you have to waste your time wondering if you did something to turn him off?? Thinking that maybe you just blueballed him one time too many and now he's over you?? Why should you fucking care???

This is exactly why you didn't want to get involved with that stupid, hot fuckboy in the first place. You should never have given him your number. Because now you're just constantly waiting for your phone to buzz, stuck in your head about whether or not he's lost interest in you now that you've finally shown a little bit of interest in him. Which you didn't! You just left an opening to see him again. But maybe the fact that he didn't leap at it past that first night means that he really was just in it for the chase.

You hate all this speculation, and you hate how your mind just constantly replays how he kissed you, or held you, or pulled your head down to shotgun you in front of everyone. It's like an addiction you can't shake yourself off of. Even when you try to keep yourself occupied, the second you get a moment to yourself, your eyes are always darting to your phone.

You hate this. You hate this!

You can’t even text him first because that would be doing the exact opposite of what you warned yourself about from the beginning. And You certainly can’t ask Ashido or anyone else about it because then you'd be admitting that you want to hear from him! Which you don't even know why you do! Do you even actually like him, or did you just enjoy the attention he gave you? Or the way he touched you enough to leave an imprint in your mind that haunted you even when you're asleep? Or the way his voice or smile changes for the smallest instances when he’s with you? Or the way he pulled away from your kiss just to look at you with this lazy awe before diving right back in...

Okay, so maybe you got it into your head that he was being a little soft or sincere at moments, and that mayyyybe that was a tiny sign that he liked you in a genuine way. Maybe he was just hiding behind his playboy facade to keep his guard up for whatever his own reasons are.

You have to admit, Sero is the most interesting when he’s being sincere. When he gives you a soft smile that holds no motive, just pure affection and interest. When he shows his disappointment and shyness that’s usually hidden by his charisma and smooth talk. When he laughs at something with his whole belly and tears in his eyes. It’s because you’ve seen all these things about him that you let your thoughts linger on who else he could be. Even beyond his nice hands and body.

And that’s what makes it all the more disappointing when you finally catch sight of him on campus one day, lying in the grass with his arm pillowing some pretty girl’s head beside him. Oh, and they’re having a grand old time, taking turns puffing from a vape as she laughs at whatever he’s saying. You spot Kirishima with him, thanks to his bright red hair, and a few other familiar faces. Since his friends are with him out there, this much be pretty normal for him...

You have no idea what’s going on over there, what their relationship is, if she’s already seen or even touched his body more (better?) than you have, but you can’t look at this for a second longer. Turning away, you hold your head high and keep on your original route, trying to figure out why this hurts so much.

You don’t know what you expected. He’s been flirty and smooth and funny with girls (and guys) way before you met him. He’s gotten so good at it that it was probably laughably easy to get you wrapped around his finger, despite your initial reaction. That’s who he fucking is, and you’re no different than that girl he’s got laying on his bicep right now, or whoever the fuck he’s probably slept with in the past week or two when you were beside yourself just waiting for a call. You’re just another one for him. There’s nothing special about you that would make him want to ‘change his ways’ or be real with you.

You knew all that, and yet this still happened to you. Fuck, you hate this.

You’re sulking for the rest of the week, hating yourself for letting some jerk get in your head this deep without even having slept with him! That’s the most pathetic part about all of this. You’re tossing and turning at night without even having seen his dick!! It’d be another thing if he actually rocked your world and gave you the most amazing night of your life, but all he’s really done is make out with you a few times! It's honestly embarrassing!

Maybe you should have invited him over that night after all. At least then you’d know for sure if he’s actually worth all these mental gymnastics you’re putting yourself through if you were gonna go through them anyway. That’s probably one of the reasons why you’re so wound up in the first place, you haven’t gotten laid while knowing he’s probably getting it in whenever he wants. Maybe it would do you some good to find some other dude to fuck, just to take off the edge.

You’re waiting in line to get a coffee at a shop in the student center, mulling over the different ways you could get some new guy to sleep with you, thinking about opening one of those dating apps you’ve left in some folder when your phone buzzes with a new notification. And your heart spikes when you see Sero’s name attached to it.

From: Sero Hanta [photo]

Tapping on the notification, you look at the photo in confusion until you realize… Wait, that’s you. In line. That’s you standing in line right now. It’s the same outfit and bag, and you’re hunched over your phone.

Immediately, you’re looking up and searching around like some lost ducking. Where the hell did he send this from? You don't see him anywhere.

To: Sero Hanta ?

"Hey," his voice inevitably pops up beside you in the line.

And when you look up at him, you're immediately filled with want. He's dressed in warm-looking layers that make you want to bury your hands into the flaps of his fuzzy inner jacket and cuddle up to his chest. You can see black barbell studs on his earlobes peeking out of the beanie he's wearing. And worst of all, there's a thin black hoop attached to his bottom lip.

Which??? Where did that even come from?? You've seen and made out with him several times, but you've never seen this piercing on him before?? It's honestly kind of unfair????

"How's it going?" He asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Couldn't you have just asked that first instead of taking creepy photos of people without them knowing?" You raise your phone to show him the evidence.

"My bad," he lets out a small laugh, "I thought it'd be funny."

"Hmm..." You say in lieu of a response. So now he's trying to be funny and charming like usual, as if he hasn't been dangling you like a yo-yo for the past two weeks?

Ugh, your desperation is coming through again. Gross. As much as you want to say something, you don't need him to know that you were beside yourself thinking about him.

"Anyway," you change the topic, looking up at him and touching a finger to your lip, "Have you always had that?"

His face brightens with a smile, "No, I just got it, actually. I've only had it for about a week."

"I see. Looks good." You nod in acknowledgement before turning away to move up in line, trying to look and sound as unaffected as possible.

"Yeah?" He says, following you along the line, "I feel like that's pretty high praise coming from you."

"You're welcome." You quip back without looking at him again. Who knows what that face is going to make you do if you stare at it for too long.

He laughs and makes small talk about how your day's looking, pausing when you reach the counter and give them your order. Sero jumps in to order something for himself as well — opportunistic bastard — and tries to pay for you both, but you quickly smack him away and hand over your card, using intense eye contact to pressure the cashier to take it before Sero tries to butt in again.

Luckily, they do, which makes you sigh internally in relief as you move over to wait for the drinks.

"You didn't have to do that. I just piggybacked your spot in line, after all." He smiles, which is a sight you refuse to look at for longer than necessary.

"Just think of it as payback for lunch last time." You say.

"Oh?" He sounds amused. Ugh. "Weren't you gonna treat me to lunch somewhere else?"

You cringe at the reminder of what you said last time you saw him when you left Jirou's place. It sounded smoother in your head at the time, but looking back now... Ugh. Though you did offer to treat him to lunch, it was... only under a certain condition.

"That was like two weeks ago, Sero." You say, "Offer's expired."

"Aw, you're kidding! I was so excited about it!" He laments with a lighthearted sigh, clearly unserious. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"Ah... me too. What a shame." You play along, copying his lighthearted tone.

He hums as he gently bumps you with his hip, "I don't suppose you could make an exception? After all, this piercing is still healing. I'm pretty sure I would've irritated it if I saw you again too soon."

Your heart jumps a little as an initial reaction because just thinking about the implication makes you a little warm. Plus, if he's telling the truth, then that could mean that he probably hasn't been kissing anyone else either. But after a moment, you also realize that it's a perfect excuse for putting you on hold without explanation.

The image of him cozying up to that hot girl in the grass the other day comes back and makes you huffy all over again. Because here you go again, jumping through all these mental hoops to justify this very fuckboyish behavior in hopes that you might still be on his mind when you're clearly not.

No, you need to stop this. Before you really embarrass yourself.

"You really think you're worth such an exception?" You say.

"Well, I suppose that's not up to me." Sero hums, still standing close to you.

"Hm, suppose it's not." you simply parrot, sick of all this dribbling and passing. He's the one who started this whole game but he keeps throwing the ball back in your court. Maybe it's time to just call a time out.

Before he can say anything else, your number is called out so you pick up your drinks and quickly hand over his before walking off towards the exit of the building.

"Hey, is something wrong?" He asks, keeping pace with you.

Yes, obviously.

"No. Why?"

"I don't know. You just seem... a little different than usual. Are you upset about something?"

Yes. Quite.

"Hm. Probably nothing the coffee can't fix." You say to avoid elaborating, taking a quick sip as if to prove it.

"Okay... well where are you headed to? If you're not busy, maybe—"

While Sero is speaking, you notice someone tall and blonde waving in your direction. As you both take a few steps closer to one another, you realize you recognize him, "Oh! Aoyama!"

"Bonjour~!" He keeps waving as he walks up to you.

"Ça tombe bien!" You shout, catching his wrist in your hand, "Allons-y. Je veux quitter ce mec."

Good timing! Let's go. I want to ditch this guy.

"Hm?" Aoyama tilts his head at you, quickly darting his eyes at Sero, "Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?"

What's the matter?

"Je te le dirai plus tard. On y va, s’il te plait."

I'll tell you later. Let's go for now.

"Oui." He agrees easily enough, gesturing with his hand to another direction, "Shall we?"

"Oui! Merci." You smile, slightly relieved when you turn to Sero, "Oh, this is my friend Aoyama, by the way."

"Right... The guy you practice French with." Sero says, observing Aoyama with a certain caution that you haven't seen before. Usually, he's pretty friendly with everyone. "I'm Sero. Nice to meet you, dude."

"And you." Aoyama returns the greeting and accepts the handshake.

"I'm actually gonna take off with him for now. I'll see you later." You say, inching towards the blonde as if switching sides.

"Wait!" Sero stops you by catching your hand in his, and you have to tighten up your throat in order to keep your heart from jumping out, "Uh, are you busy this weekend? Kaminari's having another kickback. Said he's gonna stream the new episode of Heroes Rising. If you wanna come."

Heroes Rising? Damn, you're tempted. You actually love that show. And it would probably be fun to watch with a group of friends, eating and drinking, smoking a little, discussing the series universe...

But at the same time, it would probably be another opportunity for Sero to mess with your head should he try something there. And you really don't need to be filled with more hope or head games.

"I'll... think about it." You eventually say.

"Sure thing." He says, finally letting go of your hand, "I'll text you?"

"Sure you will." You snort a bit, accidentally letting the bitterness slip out of your voice for a moment. Oops. "Bye, Sero."

"See ya, [Name]."

There it is again. That small softness that defers from his usual flirty arrogance and actually tickles at your chest a bit. Why does he always slip into that voice when you least need it?

Holding in your sigh, you turn back to Aoyama, "Allons-y."

—

"So you like him." Aoyama says when you're both seated at a bench on another part of campus.

"I do not!" You deny fervently, "I'm just... confused by him."

"Oh~?" Your friend raises his eyebrows with a knowing grin on his face, "And what exactly are you confused about?"

You heave a frustrated sigh, "I don't know. He's such a textbook playboy, but sometimes..."

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes... there's more to him, I guess. And whenever he shows it, I think maybe he is worth liking. Or at least getting to know more."

"But?"

"But then he just goes back to that stupid playboy facade again, acting like he's interested in me when he's probably out using the same moves on everyone else." You wrinkle your nose at the image of him and that girl in the grass again.

Aoyama hums as he props his head in his palm, his arm leaning on the back of the bench, "So you want to be special to him."

"That's not what I said." You pout.

"Non?" Aoyama says, "Alors, qu'est-ce que tu veux dire ?"

You close your eyes with a sigh, wondering just what it is that you do want to say, or do for that matter. Are you really just going to keep running in circles like this?

"I'll ask again," Aoyama sits up, "Do you like him?"

Ugh, that's the ultimate question, isn't it? You still haven't completely figured it out for yourself. But since you think about him this much and enjoy kissing him and want to know more about him, that probably means one thing more than it means the other, doesn't it?

So begrudgingly, you mumble out, "... maybe. More yes than no."

"Is that something you cannot tell him?" Aoyama blinks, smiling yet still unreadable.

"Why would I?!" You protest, "I don't wanna go into it all serious just to get played. I'll look like an idiot."

"So you think he wouldn't be serious about you?"

"I know for a fact that he gets around. What would make me any different than any of the others?" You scoff.

Aoyama hums curiously, swinging the leg he's crossed over his other knee, "Well, I certainly don't know him, but I doubt he'd be so hostile towards me, someone he just met, if you were simply 'any of the others,' ma chère."

"What are you talking about?"

"Think about how it must have looked to him when I dazzlingly arrived on the scene;" He explains, "You completely turned your attention away from him to another radiantly handsome man, spoke with this beautiful stranger in a language that excluded him from the conversation, and all but ran off with the other man when he was trying to make plans to see you again. I mean, if I were him, I would surely be a little insecure about my own personal luster." He finishes with a giggle.

You can only raise your eyebrows at your friend in a deadpan look, because what?

"Aoyama..." You start slowly, "Are you implying that he saw you... you — with your knee-high boots and a shirt with ruffles — and thought there was something better us?"

Aoyama only smiles at you with his pretty but unreadable eyes, as if not confirming nor denying your words...

This is why Aoyama is so hilarious to you. Because while he's actually quite observant and knowledgeable about the world, he chooses to ignore all of the blinking signs of social norms and expectations in order to live in his own sparkly little world. Which you both respect and find ridiculous at times.

But you go along with it for now. It's not like you're not interested in his opinion on the situation.

"Alright, fine. Let's say, for a moment, that he disregarded all of the rainbows spewing out of you and thought I was interested in you. Maybe he was even a little jealous." You say, "Even if he was, that doesn't change the fact that he hasn't bothered to maintain contact with me. Or that he's still been flirting with others."

"That is curious." Aoyama agrees, "Perhaps he's used to thinking he has nothing to lose. Although that may have changed today."

"I doubt it." You roll your eyes, slouching against the bench with your arms crossed, "Honestly though, as much as I'd like to think he might like me, I also can't shake this feeling about him. Like I should still be careful around him."

"Careful with your heart? Or with your body?" Aoyama asks.

"Both, I suppose. It's not like one isn't connected to the other."

Aoyama makes a curious humming noise again, which prompts you to sigh, "What?"

"C'est rien. But to me, it sounds like he's already gotten to your heart."

You let out another sigh, because he's right. You hate that he's right and that Sero has already wired up so many circuits in your brain and body that he's got so many buttons to push.

At this point, what remedy do you even have? If he's already burrowed into your brain and your heart, should you just let him have your body too? Just for the sake of it? Would you be able to just get it out of your system and get over him?

"Should I go to the kickback?" You ask Aoyama, even though you feel like you already know the answer.

"Oui! You must! And don't forget to tell me everything afterwards." He says with a wink, making you shake your head and roll your eyes.

But you thank him regardless for coming to your rescue and listening to your woes before you send him off to class. Then you pull up your phone to text Kaminari.

To: Kaminari Denki what's this i hear about streaming the new heroes rising ep?

—

tbc

a/n: all my french is from google and youtube, pls be forgiving/kindly add corrections if you have them 🙏🇫🇷

edit: tysm to mia for helping me fix up the french a bit for this!!!

part 5

[bapple117]

Some RadioCotton Trivia 📻🐰❤️

Now that my first fic "If You Can't Say Somethin' Nice, Don't Say Nothin' At All" is finished, I thought I would share some behind-the-scenes trivia!

Some of this will contain minor spoilers for the plot, so read with caution if you've not finished the story - there will be no spoilers for part two (All That Grace). Okay let's go! This list is LONG so hold on y'all

The Bambi Thing

The name is a direct quote from Bambi; there's actually a LOT of Bambi references in the whole fic. The quote was actually the entire inspiration for the whole premise. Bambi is one of my favourite Disney movies and I couldn't help but notice a lot of shared themes between it and Alastor - and then I thought, what if a cute, wholesome rabbit demon came to Hell and taught him to be sweeter?

There's another direct script lift from Bambi later in the fic - when Alastor has the dream about his mother. 'Mother? MOTHER? Mother where are you?' Oh the pain.

Adam also calls Alastor "Bambi" and Verity "Thumper" at points, AND one of the chapters is called "Drip Drip Drop Little April Showers". The themes of them being a deer and a rabbit also crop up a lot, obviously.

The Music Thing

There are a LOT of references to songs, both when I put lyrics at the start of chapters and within the story itself. I am aggressively inspired by music and song lyrics, and have immensely eclectic taste, and can't help myself. Some songs would be the thematic influence for a chapter and I would literally listen to the song on repeat as I either planned or wrote the chapter. Something I'm still doing now while I write Bluest Monday!

At one point I spent about an hour trying to find the name of a music scale just so I could accurately describe it when Alastor and Verity play the piano. I am very meticulous with my research, I was determined to find it 😂

The Alastor Thing

The way I chose to write Alastor was influenced by a number of things. One, that "What just happened? Ffffffuck" line from the finale of Season 1 did a LOT of heavy lifting for me. It showed that he has a version of himself that's less guarded and raw - and I don't care what anyone says, it's NOT because his staff broke. He goes right back to the filter and accent immediately afterwards and the staff is still broken, so.

Two, I just really wanted to write him as someone that uses violence and a covered-up personalty as a coping mechanism for grief, which I don't think is too far from the canon. His eventual softening and ability to love was influenced by things like Mr Darcy, Kylo Ren (LOL), Astarion from BG3, etc etc. Traumatised bad boy is healed by the sunshine girl - we love to see it.

I also did a LOT of research on the canonical information thus far known about Alastor, including things Viv has said in streams. The only thing I got dead wrong was a chapter where he drinks tea - apparently he hates it. Everything else is either based on canon or a speculation based on lore that's been teased.

Other Random Facts

I chose to include Adam as a fleshed out character for a few reasons. One, he's hella fun to write. Two, I had the Vox-jealous-kidnap-and-rescue planned since the start, and I knew I needed a character who could help them. Adam is unknown to the Vees as a hotel resident at that point, and so he became a great choice. I needed to lay the ground work so it would be convincing that he'd help them, so he's there from the start. I ended up loving him so much that he's now one of the main characters in the sequel and is getting his own development arc. Go Adam!

Adam also breaks the fourth wall in the show (Ugly people? *looks at camera*) and so I felt inspired to make him quippy with pop culture references a la Deadpool. It was great fun and very helpful when I wanted to squeeze in a fitting reference.

There is a LOT of foreshadowing and wordplay in the fic. A LOT, so much I don't have time to list it all. For example, Verity drunkenly talks (in Chap 4) about how deer are territorial momma's boys - if that ain't Alastor idk what is. That info becomes very important in Chap 21.

There are references to stuff from Helluva Boss; Fizzerolli Cola, a Verosika music video plays, etc. A sign of more to come in P2 👀

Dramatic irony (where the audience knows something the character doesn't and it's either funny or tragic) is my absolute FAVOURITE Shakespearian trope, and I use it all the time.

I made myself laugh a lot coming up with the names for fake booze LOL

Husk was one of my favourite characters to write, as well as Alastor (ofc), Rosie and Adam.

My personal favourite chapters are 13 (Al drunk with Rosie) 19 (dream scene, fluff & first smut) and 23 (final chapter). I loved the image of Alastor laughing into his drink like a normal young man being silly and chapter 19 has a bit of everything - angst, fluff, smut, comedy. I loved writing that one so much.

The scene where Verity uses Alastor's power to manifest them away from the group cheekily and then Alastor likes it a lot and goes crazy kissing her is very inspired by this scene in Titanic (one of my all time fave movies) - especially where Rose swears and laughs as the lift is going up.

I myself have lost a parent, so I understand that loss very well. I poured a lot of that feeling into this fic, it was something I could actually inject into the story from my own experience.

I'm pretty sure we got the comments turned off on a video on youtube LOL. I linked this song at the end of Chap 19 (I listened to it on repeat while writing the love scene) and the next day the comments were disabled LMAO. That track will ALWAYS remind me of this fic now, arugh my heart

Verity

As much as Verity started as just a way for me to avoid using (Y/N) in a reader-insert fic (something I personally don't like) and a way for me to do the rabbit and deer theme, she became her own character over the course of the story. I made it reader-insert cause I figured no one would read it otherwise, but now the sequel is third person bc she's her own person.

Her name was also a deliberate choice - a V name meaning truth. She makes Alastor face his truth, yadda yadda blah blah blah you get it you get it 😂 Plus it just sounds like a rabbit name doesn't it?

Verity has a lot of traits from myself, but she is NOT self-insert for me, I'd hasten to add. I'm not completely delulu guys okay? ....Not entirely But she does have a lot of overlap with myself. You gotta write what you know, after all. I won't go into detail about the similarities between us - some of them are obvious, I think. But I'll leave that all ambiguous, more fun that way :)

Final Thoughts

There are honestly so many more things I could say but this is already veering into narcissistic self-indulgence land LOL so I feel compelled to stop here, but if anyone has any questions or things they'd like to know, pop them in my inbox!

That's all, folks!

[romiyaro]

𝙲𝙾𝙳𝙴 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 - 𝙰 𝙷𝚈𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙳 𝙹𝙹𝙺 𝙰𝚄

ᴄʜᴘ. 03

ᴛᴡ/ᴄᴡ: ʜʏʙʀɪᴅꜱ, ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ʙʀᴀᴛ ᴛᴀᴍᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴘ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʟɪɴᴋꜱ: ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ɴᴇxᴛ | ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.4ᴋ

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @pulchritxde @fayelvsu @that-one-wall @nanamis-wifey-reye @shaak-ti-s @lucyrocks86 @k-indie

ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ: @tokyometronetwork

The agency has been working overtime this past week. All hands are on deck as sightings of possible code reds and rogue code blues (more commonly referred to as code purples) in the streets are being reported. These sightings were often followed by cases of vandalized shops or destroyed public properties. 

Although there were no deaths, the cases that were reported were all kinds of gruesome. Men were beaten up, women raped, kids kidnapped and abused, all of that before being disposed off in random alleys of the slums where life was tough as it is.

Amidst all the chaos, it was the JJK Agency that the people looked up to for a solution. And the agency gracefully took helm of the mission that was to stop the ruffian code purples once and for all. The intel had already affirmed that these were all assaults orchestrated by The Crime Syndicate. So, the unknown head of the Agency had issued orders that you were to lead the mission, with all the resources of the Agency at your beck and call. 

You were running in overdrive. But so was everyone else. Agency troops patrolled almost 24/7 the major cities where attacks were most likely. Kaeya and Childe had contacted all their tech buddies to lend the Agency a hand during this busy period; in return for a handsome reward of course. Doctor Hirugami and Doctor Sugawara had their hands full at all times with the number of injured hybrids, good and bad, turning up at their doorstep daily. Nanami, Gojo, and Geto practically lived in the Agency, like most of the cop hybrids and tamers on duty. That was just how urgent the cases had become. The head of the Agency was pressurizing them to take action. And fast. Because if their suspicion was correct, the Crime Syndicate planned on using social unrest as a cover for their actual mission – world domination. 

It would sound like a child's dream. But with the amount of cases being reported, you had a feeling they were well on their way of world domination. All they needed was an invincible armor to help them face the tamers across the globe. And you knew they had found one. The only Code Black in existence – Ryomen Sukuna. 

That was why, regardless of the amount of places that called you for assists in hybrid taming, you would take time out to regularly go and check in on your Code Black, lest he broke the door and escaped, or worse, the Crime Syndicate picked on your door again to take him away. 

You shuddered at the thought of what would become of the world if the Code Black was set loose on it. 

Talking about the Code Black back in your home, Sukuna had turned from the ferocious hybrid king to a sulky little brat. He would laze around the house the whole day, maybe watch television (more like shade everything he saw on there), or follow you around the house taunting you and the entirety of the human race. 

If you weren’t sharp enough, you’d have thought Sukuna had already been tamed. But damn, you knew better. 

He thinks you don’t notice the malice overflowing from his eyes as he watches kids going to school every morning through the reinforced windows. He thinks you don’t feel his lecherous gaze on you every time you turn your back to him. He thinks you don’t hear his mumbled expletives towards the humans on the television, the malice in his words enough to bring tears to the eyes of the weak hearted. 

But Sukuna either didn’t know you noticed it all, or he just didn’t give a shit. And knowing the Code Black, you were inclined to believe the latter.

And hence, regardless of his relaxed demeanor around you, you never lowered your guards around him. With the toll of code purple attacks on a steady rise, you were justified to think Sukuna had some sort of card up his sleeve.

And boy were you right.

The day had been exhausting. You had helped subdue a total of 5 code reds today. But none cooperated during the interrogation. Torture techniques were of no use against code reds who had a high pain tolerance. And the agency discouraged extreme torture against hybrids, limiting you exponentially. “If they were the type to talk, they would have done so the moment we put them through our usual torture techniques. If they kept quiet through that, then they definitely won’t talk even if it cost them a limb.” Nanami had said.

Needless to say, you weren’t convinced. Moreover, the one code red who really got on your nerves was Mahito. He had laughed and mocked you through the entire interrogation, so much so that the interogation team requested you to leave him to them and step out.

That was a big dent to your ego.

“Welcome back home~” the familiar drawl greets you as you get rid of your shoes at the doorstep. A deep sigh leaves you as you take in the unharmed furniture in the hall and the sexy, topless, muscular pink-haired man spread over your couch. “I miss those days when you used to be passionate about killing me. You have mellowed out, hybrid king.” you spat the last part condescendingly, hoping to rile him up enough to get him talking. 

Sukuna chuckles, head falling back to look at you. Even with his head upside down, his eyes linger all over your body, pausing at certain areas. “Say the word if you are bored, puppy. I can show you my undying passion in a million other ways.”

You shiver, his voice is so low and magnetic that he might as well have said that right into your ear.

“Look at you,” he snorts. “And you say I am the one who has mellowed out?” 

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring his words because ouch– they were true. And combined with the memories of Mahito degrading you, your mood drops even lower. And in a move fuelled by the distress you have been feeling lately, you try to tackle Sukuna. 

But seconds after, as he reverse tackles you, your senses return and you regret it. But it’s too late. HE is too close. Sukuna laughs in your face, his hands pinning yours to the ground, and his legs keeping yours in check as he sits on your torso. 

“Mmmmm…” he groans, tracing the vein on your neck with the tip of his nose. “Like I said before, you smell addictive, cupcake.” 

You struggle half assedly, due to the exhaustion of the day setting in and because you know he won’t kill you. He needs you. That much you are sure of. He needs you alive for some twisted agenda of his. Otherwise, there’s no reason he’s left you alive and kicking. Yes, you never dropped your guard against him. 

But he had dropped his. 

Like he had given up on taking your life and was planning to relax until the right time comes. And it was troubling you more than you would like to admit.

Above you Sukuna suddenly jerks, his eyes snapping towards one of your wrists. His eyes squint at the bruise on your wrist, so tiny within his palm. Bringing the wrist to his nose, he sniffs. You raise your brow at him, all struggle forgotten as you stare hard at him, “What are you, a dog?”

Sukuna’s nostrils flare, eyes turning slightly bloodshot as he turns to look at you, “Who.”

“Huh?”

“Who did this?” he asks, shaking your hand in his. “Which mutt was it that dared lay a finger on my property?”

You scoff, “Whose property?” Untangling your legs from his, you easily tackle him again, quickly maneuvering yourself above him. You grab his throat, squeezing slightly. Sukuna chuckles as his palms come to your hips. “My property. And I can see this go one delicious way, cupcake.” You squirm when his thumb rubs circles into your waist. 

“I’m nobody’s property, you monster.” You lean in, ensuring to be confident and firm as you gaze into his eyes. “And the only way this goes is you going out like a bulb.” you punctuate. With another solid punch to his face. 

And as the Code Black hybrid blacks out yet again, you feel your ego restored. You don’t even feel the pain anymore, fist getting used to punching the daylights out of the hybrid. Your eyes go from your fist to your bruised wrist and you sigh, mumbling to yourself “Mahito did this when I was helping the tamers capture him. I'm surprised you didn't recognize his scent.”

“I knew it. I'm gonna kill him.” 

The whispered words startle you as you look down, meeting eyes with a smug Sukuna with a quickly bruising left eye. Instinctually you punch him again, this time knocking him out cold for real.

ᴀ/ɴ: ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴋ! ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ/ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴅɴɪ!!! ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʙʏ @jotatetsuken <333

© ʀᴏᴍɪʏᴀʀᴏ 2022 - ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴍᴏᴅɪꜰʏ, ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ

[whump-a-la-mode]

Armistice - Part One

Oops random burst of inspiration

Summary: A team of agents investigate a secret weapons lab and find something unexpected.

Contains: Living weapon, scientist whumpers, inhuman whumpee, lab whump, secret agents

Warnings: Dehumanization, cages, military themes, guns, pet whump, living weapon, gunshot wounds

Start Transmission

“I fail to see how this level of security is necessary.” Colonel Blaire, a tense man who had spent too much time in the sun, commented. 

“I assure you, Sir, this is very necessary.” Doctor Cecil, walking right at the Colonel’s side, replied. “We would not be going through these procedures if there was any doubt.”

The two traversed a short stretch of hallway. They had just passed through a large, steel door, affixed with a mechanical lock and key. Another door was up ahead. Doctor Cecil removed an oversized brass keyring from her lab coat, taking the next key-- they were numbered, of course-- and inserting it into the proper hole. The door opened.

“Whatever this thing is, you’re certain it has military usage? Much more of this rigamarole and I’ll have you fired for wasting my time.”

“Most certainly.”

Another key. Another lock. Another key.

“And at what point do you intend on telling me what this thing is?”

“I do not intend on telling you, Colonel. I intend on showing you. I guarantee, it will be well worth the wait, and worth your trouble.”

The colonel only grunted in reply.

The last door required a physical key, a keypad code, as well as remote permission given by someone, somewhere, sitting at a computer. Beyond said door was a room that most would consider unremarkable. The walls had been reinforced first with steel, then with a covering of rubber. 

At the center of it all was a cage, covered in a black tarp.

From beneath the tarp came a snarl.

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“How far out are we?” 

Agent Alces leaned over the shoulder of her team’s pilot, Agent Puda, who didn’t seem all too pleased with the incursion.

“Less than 1000 klicks. Under an hour.”

“How long till we need to batten down the hatches?”

“30 minutes. The crew should be in their seats in 45.”

“Got it.”

The pilot expected that to be the end of it. However, to his surprise, his superior sat down in the empty co-pilot’s seat next to him.

Puda knew exactly what that meant.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course I’m worried.” Alces muttered. 

She fidgeted with her watch. Half of her body had already been put on, excluding her helmet-- as well-engineered as those things were, they were notoriously uncomfortable for long-term wear. That left her short hair, the color of wheat, free to flow. 

“There’s a hell of a lot to be worried about.” She continued. “This isn’t going to be an easy op.”

“Is there such a thing as an easy op?”

“There’s easier ops than this one.” Alces sighed. “We’re going after an unknown object at an unknown facility, guarded by unknown forces. We don’t know what kind of weapons they have. That’s not to mention the American military is rumored to be going after the same thing.”

“Yeah.” Puda grimaced. “We’ve sure had easier ops. You’re sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s our mission. They wouldn’t send us on a mission if they thought we couldn’t manage it.”

“Sure.” The pilot had always been a bit skeptical about their employer.

In a sense, their employers were the whole human race. In a more realistic sense, their employer was an internationally-funded law enforcement agency known as SABRE. 

It was the job of SABRE to maintain international law, mostly in the areas of human rights. Small jobs went to local authorities. Big jobs went to Interpol. Unwieldy, dangerous, stupid jobs went to SABRE.

Who do you think keeps cleaning up after all the UFOs?

“What do we know, then?” Puda questioned.

“Didn’t you come to the briefing?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And did you… Listen?”

Puda didn’t respond to that one, focusing instead on the radars and dashboards of the cockpit.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Alces rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t unused to this particular behavior from her pilot. She was lucky that he was working at all. 

“Alright.” She started. “SABRE’s intelligence sources have been indicating that a lab in Nevada has been working with an unknown weapon. Whatever this weapon is, the lab is absolutely refusing to cooperate with international weapons testing and regulation requirements.

For all we know, they could have the next Manhattan project in there, and the American brass has already caught the scent. We need to figure out what they’re doing.”

“So, we don’t even know if what they have is dangerous?”

“Not necessarily, but the half-meter thick steel walls around the facility would implicate as such. Officially, we’re only going down there to make sure that they start complying with international regulations.”

“And what are we doing unofficially?”

“Figuring out what they’re doing, figuring out if it’s illegal, and, if it is, putting a stop to it.”

“Do they know we’re coming?”

“Of course not. That’s the whole point of a surprise attack.”

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After an absurdly lavish dinner, complete with wine bottles that, for most, would cost an entire year’s salary, Colonel Blaire was being treated to a show.

Alongside Doctor Cecil and a cohort of her white-coated compatriots, the colonel now stood behind a panel of one-way glass, several inches thick.

After so much buildup, their project was overdue for a demonstration.

The room beyond the glass was large, rectangular, and outfitted with padded mats along the wall, similar to those one might see in a wrestling gym. The center of the room was occupied by a ballistics dummy, the kind made of a clear resin, meant to demonstrate how something would penetrate the human body. On one side of the room, a closed gate led to another chamber.

“You have already heard about this weapon’s hardiness.” Doctor Cecil began. “Forget about supply lines, this thing can traverse extreme climates for days on end, requiring only minimal supplies. With extraordinary navigational senses, it does not rely on radar or radio signals. This weapon could travel deep into any enemy warzone, undetected.

And, when it gets there…”

The lights in the chamber beyond the glass brightened. The gate began to rumble open.

Before it opened all the way, something scrabbled underneath, managing to escape into the chamber beyond. 

It took exactly 3.78 seconds for the ballistics dummy to be turned to a pile of resin scraps.

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SABRE Team C landed in a clearing in the forest.

For all his nonsense, there was a reason that Alces put up with Puda: The man could land their plane damn near anywhere and not so much as scratch the paint.

Alces, along with the rest of her team, were seated in the cockpit in their individual seats. Once the landing gear steadied, she took off her seatbelt. 

All in all, there were six of them. Puda, of course, was seated at the front, nearest to the controls. The rest were arranged in a semi-circle, with Alces in the center.

Doctor Kuhli was on the far right, a brown-skinned woman with her black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. For all her nagging, everyone on the team understood full-well that she was the main thing keeping them alive. She was their doctor. She was also the one who usually kept Doctor Munty from eating the chemicals from his lab.

Doctor Munty, of course, was the team’s science officer. One might be surprised to learn that a field team would have any need of a science officer, but he had justified his usefulness time and time again. With how many unknown compounds and chemicals they encountered, it was good to have a genius with a lab. He was seated on the far left.

The other two spaces, between Alces and the doctors, were filled by the team’s two field agents: Agent Reeves and Agent Savini. At the moment, both of them looked nearly identical, wearing black uniforms and helmets. If their visors weren’t raised, Alces would’ve had a hard time telling the difference. With their faces visible, however, the differences between the two were stark. 

Agent Reeves was a short woman, chronically underestimated for her size and blonde hair (it wasn’t that color naturally, but SABRE continuously refused to allow her to dye it pink, so they compromised.) Her bangs were a mess under her helmet. It was almost odd to see her without her usual collection of barrettes and scrunchies, but, quite obviously, those didn’t work with a tight-fitting carbon fiber helmet. 

Agent Savini, on the other hand, was tall, muscular, and more than a little standoffish. He was the dream of any SABRE recruiter: Strong, disciplined, smart, and unflappable. Alces didn’t know if she had ever seen him smile, but he had never failed to carry out a single of her orders. His only flaw was a small dependance on whiskey and smokes, but Alces could hardly complain. 

She had a damn good team behind her. They could do this. They would do this, and they would all make it out alive.

She just had to lead them through it.

Lights on the dashboard turned off one by one as the plane settled into a resting state. Meanwhile, Alces moved to the front of the room, addressing the rest of her team with her pilot close at hand.

“Alright.” She began, clearing her throat. “This isn’t going to be an easy op. I want everyone at their best. We’re going to stay together. We don’t know what we’re going to find in there. That makes extraction hard. There’s a chance we won’t be bringing anything out of there at all. We may also be seizing the next advancement in lethal military technology.

Puda.” The pilot turned to listen. “You’re going to drive me, Reeves, and Savini in the UTV as far as you can. Meanwhile, Munty, you’re going to fly the drones out ahead of us. We’ll stay in contact while you find us an entrance. If they won’t open it for us, then we’re going to breach it.

Kuhli, I want you preparing a secure facility back here, ready to contain whatever we find, if anything. You might have some patients, if any weapons are fired.

Does everyone understand?”

Everyone nodded, muttering their acknowledgement. Damn, Alces loved her team.

“Let’s move out!”

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“I hope you liked what you saw.” Doctor Cecil folded her hands in front of herself, seated across a boardroom from Colonel Blaire.

The Colonel’s expression was as firm as ever. However, his earlier anger had melted away, leaving only stoicism behind.

“You have fulfilled your promise. You have quite the weapon.”

“Do you think it will be enough for what you desire?”

“Enough? Yes, yes, more than enough.” He drummed his fingers. “But there is only the one.”

“Only the one, for now. We believe that we can acquire more. We simply require additional funding.”

“More funding. You must understand the risk of bringing this information to my superiors. Laws will need to be changed. But… I will talk to them. I will let you know if you can have your funding.

Until then, I want more data. More tests. This thing needs to be proven six ways to Sunday.”

Doctor Cecil was clearly less than pleased with the answer. She most certainly wasn’t pleased when the door to the boardroom burst open.

Her heart jumped right to her throat at the appearance of three strangers in military garb. Their faces were concealed beneath black helmets and tinted visors. The rest of their bodies were equally concealed beneath vests and carbon fiber elbow pads.Their weapons were clearly intended to intimidate.

Dammit. Dammit! Doctor Cecil leapt to her feet, knocking over the chair she had been sitting in. The colonel across from her did the same.

“Woah, there.” The three strangers were arranged in a triangular formation, with one at the front and two slightly behind, one on either side. It was their presumed leader, at the front, who spoke. “No need to get spooked.”

“Who are you?” Doctor Cecil growled.

“You have no authorization to be here.” Colonel Blair added.

“We do, actually.” The leader of the incursion reached into a specially-placed pocket, revealing a badge. 

SABRE. Of course it had to be SABRE, of course it had to be now.

“We’re here to enforce Chapter 89, Article 3, Subsection B of the international SABRE weapons treaty. All military research facilities are required to register, undergo international third-party inspection, and disclose all weapons possessed. That’s along with Subsection C-- All experiments with potential deadly weapons must be pre-approved.

This is an unauthorized, unsupervised, illegal weapons research facility. So, you’re going to give us the grand tour, then you’re going to shut down until you comply with national and international law.

Is that understood?”

Beneath that visor, Doctor Cecil just knew there was a sly smile.

She knew, of course, the illegality of her operation. She had just been hoping to change the law before that was revealed.

“I understand.” She replied, evenly. 

Reaching a hand into a pocket, she pressed a button, calling for emergency security assistance. With backup on the way, she pulled out a handgun.

“But I don’t think you understand exactly how much danger you’re in.” She continued, coldly.

Given what her operation involved, she had cut no corners on security. As the intruders hesitated on their next move, footsteps pounded down the hallway.

Gunfire filled the hallway.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the smoke cleared, Alces checked her troops. Both Reeves and Savini were still on their feet, even as they gasped for air a bit.

It had been a harsh shootout.

Looking around, she spotted four guards on the ground. All breathing. SABRE didn’t train their agents to kill if there was another option. Still, they were wounded, and would need a hospital sooner rather than later. 

Alces took a step forward. Her field agents took one in turn. She was damn lucky to have the agents that she did.

She hoped that her show of force would work to intimidate the woman in a lab coat in front of her.

“Alright. No more of that.” Alces did her best to keep her voice calm. No one had to get angry, here. “By the way, you are definitely under arrest now. 

You have a weapon. You are going to show us where it is.”

The lab-coated woman’s eyes shifted back and forth. Alces knew what that meant.

She was ready for the woman to run, but didn’t have time to react. The doorway was too wide. Before she knew it, the doctor had burst out of the room, right past her and her agents.

“Dammit!” Alces exclaimed. “Reeves, you stay with him.” 

She pointed at the man in the boardroom. He was definitely military. 

“Don’t let him go anywhere, and take his gun. Savini, you’re with me.”

“Got it, boss!” Reeves gave a big thumbs-up, before pointing a big gun at the big military man.

With a tilt of her head, Alces indicated for Savini to follow her as she moved out in the hallway.

Time to chase down a scientist.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Doctor Cecil whipped around a corner, her own hot breath rushing back in her face. Stupid SABRE, stupid stupid stupid! Of all days, why did this have to happen today?!

Little did they know, they had no clue what they were up against. They thought they were dealing with a gun, or a gas, or a bioweapon.

Stupid agents.

She could hear their footsteps pounding behind her. They would catch up to her, that much was inevitable. She just had to get to the containment unit before they did.

She skidded to a stop in front of one of the many doors in this highway. All at once, she regretted the security measures she herself had mandated. There was nothing to be done for it now, though. At least she had practice in getting the key from her pocket, putting it in the lock.

Once Doctor Cecil was through the door, she slammed it closed. It wouldn’t lock automatically, but it would slow her pursuers down, ever so slightly. She had a head start, and she wasn’t being weighed down by god knows how many pounds of military-issue.

One door after another. They finally arrived at the final one. She had never typed in her keycode so fast, and she had never before been more glad that she kept someone always stationed in the security chair. If she was lucky, the rest of the guards would be here soon.

Not that she would need them.

Doctor Cecil swung open the last door, revealing the same room as she had formerly to Colonel Blair. The weapon had been returned to its cage, covered again by its tarp.

She couldn’t wait to see those SABRE pencil pushers torn to shreds. Pulling out one last key, she raced to the cage, tore away the tarp, and undid the padlock.

The door swung open.

The weapon leapt free.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Alces and Savini skidded to a stop soon after the scientist did. 

This had to be it. This was the weapon. Of course, the scientist would attempt to use her own deadly creation against her attackers.

Alces held out an arm to prevent Savini from getting any closer. Whatever this thing was, it shouldn’t be able to harm them. Their helmets acted as respirators, their bodies covered from head to toe in the best gear any currency could buy. Any chemical, any bioweapon, they could handle it.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as the scientist swung open a cage of some sort. 

The person that lurched from the cage was thin, but muscular, shaggy blonde hair raggedly cut. Muscly bulk rippled beneath their neck as they snarled. Their body was covered only by a cotton undershirt and a pair of shorts.

A person.

The weapon wasn’t a contagion. It wasn’t a gun. It wasn’t a chemical.

It was a person.

“Go!” The scientist snapped.

The person charged. 

Agent Savini discharged his weapon.

[disasterghaster]

Millennium City

[Click Image for High Res]

Millennium City is a collaborative RP Location associated with Devang as well small groups of fellow RPers past and present.

The city is on a leyline knot (a concept like the magical lifeblood of the Earth in this lore) making it a receptive location for both supernatural activity and unusual dimensional activity. The history of the city is heavily mingled with organized crime and highly localized unnatural disasters.

The city is fashioned after an ambiguous portion of Northern California. It is on no standard map and does not show up on conventional satellite imaging. It is it’s own place-time and frequently is only found by those actively looking after having heard of it in someway. It is unknown how the city manages to protect itself in this way, but people that are not at least open to the idea of unnatural occurrences are not likely to find it.

Common modes of purposefully entering and leaving the city are either by subway, underground tunnel roads, or stumbling in from the surrounding inexplicable desert that rims the oasis of Millennium itself.

Accidental is much more random rips, slips, jumps, stumbles, gates, portals, and catapults through time-space to it’s location.

The city has two main historical epochs; Old Millennium and New Millennium. Distinguished by long-time inhabitants such as Devang/Sid and literally no one else. (A separation of RP related events which Devang or others that had been involved may or may not divulge.)

The city is very self-aware of supernaturals, criminal activity, and the delicate balance therein. The news is open and actively involved in warning systems for unusual instances of danger and general events. The city also has a city wide response for invasions, enhanced natural disasters, and other large scale disasters which include evacuation procedures to specially designed shelter buildings throughout the city. As well as mobilization of trained armed forces that forms a self-defense militia from police, voluntary citizens, and combined mobster forces. The city is familiar with city-wide attacks and while it is inwardly fractious like a gaggle of violent siblings it will unit into a formidable force in response to outside threats.

Landmarks

The Hill; The Hill is a geographical location that includes more than one notable location. It is the longest standing feature of Millennium City from Old Millennium. The primary feature is Asagi Mansion which is home to the Asagi Familia and associates. They boast the largest number of organized crime members and have had the most longstanding power and influence over the rest of the city. At one time, at the start of New Millennium, Devang was active Dona and rebuilt the city into what it is today. She has since stepped away long before current semi-retirement. She still considers herself heavily connected, but it runs itself without her.

Asagi’s Mansion; Large residential housing of three stories and six basement levels. Current Don lives here and operates the syndicate from this location.

Pops Lake; A small lake cared for by Asagi Familia that features a a few buildings for repose and fishing. The lake is considered private to The Hill.

Asagi Graveyard; A large graveyard that is kept fur burial of individuals of the familia that wish to be buried there or have no predetermined wishes for burial.

Alan Devang’s Cabin; Residence of Alan Devang, brother to the better known Devang. An individual with no deeper association with Asagi Familia.

Knowledge Tree Park; The park is home to a metaphysical tree only seen by those with some form of Sight. It is impossibly large, when Seen, and covers at least 80% of the city with branches adequately high enough to do so without disrupting buildings. The tree is a foreign entity that grew some years ago. The nature of the tree is ambiguous, but heavily guarded. Those without Sight would only see one residential building in a massive field of fenced off greenery. Two people live there, but are rarely seen unless the fence is crossed. The fence features signage ever ten feet that states: “!!!DANGER!!!: Entry At Own Risk. City not liable to personal death or damage if perimeter is crossed without Governing Approval.”

Sunrock Lake; This lake is unique in that it is well lit by a proliferation of ‘sun crystals’ which absorb sunlight in the daylight and emit the same light and rays at night. This makes it a beautiful local attraction. Unless you are sensitive to sunlight...

Century Isle; This island is home to a small nature preserve rimmed in luxury beaches and businesses. Many use it as a local vacation location. To no one’s surprise. It also has, of course, a small docking and warehouse area to support the commerce there.

Notable Locations

Darkside Bar; This is a multi-dimensional establishment that has multiple time-space locations, but one internal building. Leading it to have a diverse clientele. It is owned by Scott Holt who is sometimes and sometimes not a purple star in the sky.

Police Station; The police station doubles as a type of militia force. It must be to contend with internal and external city threats. They do not adhere to US common law and it is not always just. Many positions of power are corrupt at worst and aware that working strictly within a concrete framework is not applicable to a city like Millennium. They are, however, a formidable group aside from the local mobs. Rufus Stone is the current Chief.

Millennium Tower; This is the in-city-limits base of power for the Asagi Familia. It is the tallest tower in the city. It is practically a phallic symbol to the other families in the city vying for power. It is also a symbol to regular citizens of non-political if morally questionable power and protection for the city.

Devang’s Millennium Residence; Devang’s primary residence in the city. A two story with a basement. It’s not very large nor impressive. She has neighbors with a thick tree line between them. Not unlike her New Jersey residence.

Patch’s Pizza; The original opening location of her pizza chain. It hosts a number of supernatural and regular people and the menu is corresponding. She takes some pride in the place.

Gearom Gunn’s Shop; If you need something that bangs, flashes, or slashes, this is the place to go in the city.

Morning Star Shipping & Acquiring; One of several locations throughout the country including New York, Millennium, Las Vegas, New Orleans, and Chicago. It has global branches. It is run by Lucifer and deals in the finding and sale of unusual and unique, otherwise un-acquirable, merchandise. 

Ptah’s Gentleman Club; Owned by a vampire of the name Abydos Cordis. The Club is salacious and frequent party location for the city. Though one of many, it is known for a special and difficult to find drug that offers quite the experience in tandem with the club itself.

The city is somewhat malleable due to it’s RP based nature so this is by no means the start and stop of the city’s contents.

[finalshaper]

fuck this i wanna infodump here's some random things abt my fic thingy.

Dark Cacao

-- trans male, gay, he/him pronouns. pv is his silly husband that he loves a lot that fusses over him a bit too much sometimes. old man yaoi every day all day.

-- somehow got top surgery. literally left and came back and Titties Were Gone. probably some magic or shit like that because this was before said surgeries were developed. he has tattoos over the scars he has from the procedure too, which implies that it's not entirely magic, which could very well have been the case. he has a very "that's for me to know and you to find out" responce.

-- i advocate for seahorse dad cacao rights so he was actually the one who went through The Process when it comes to choco (and subsequently custard too)

-- He doesn't look like it or act like it (frankly he strikes me as someone who would listen to black metal and almost exclusively black metal) but his guilty pleasure when it comes to music is pop music. he is obsessed with it. only the other Ancients and his sons know. His favourite of all the musicians he listens to is that of Parfait, but you wouldn't catch him dead at one of her concerts. Yet when he met her he WAS silently fanboying like an idiot but didn't want to disclose how huge of a fan he was of her.

-- He named his sword Skysplitter after the battle with the two dragons that led to the establishment of his Kingdom. Their battle was so great that it was as if the very heavens were shaking in awe.

-- His voice is, rather than Patrick Seitz, Christopher Judge. Christopher Judge, who played Kratos in God of War 2018 and God of War Ragnarok.

Affogato

-- genderfluid, possibly also on the bisexual/pansexual/etc spectrum, doesn't really think too much of it. she/her and he/him interchangeably, but she doesn't really give too much of a shit abt what pronouns you use to refer to him. masculine, neuter and feminine terms interchangeably. not picky at all when it comes to how she's addressed.

-- she is espresso's biological aunt on his mother's side.

-- He does not serve as an antagonist in my fics!

-- Rather than having a soft spot for sweets, she has a deep love for savoury foods instead, even though he treats it more like a guilty pleasure, right alongside things that are super simple rather than extravagant and decadent.

Caramel Arrow

-- she/her, just general overall queer and doesn't really identify with any particular labels.

-- She's a dragon!! Her role in my fics is that of the divine guardian and custodian to Dark Cacao's heavenly throne and mortal throne, protecting and serving him in both the heavens and the mortal world. After Dark Cacao entered a four-thousand-year slumber, she took to wandering the mountains in her dragon form in silence akin to the dragons from BOTW/TOTK. It's unknown why she didn't just return to the heavens but rather stayed hanging around. Some theorize that it's because she's guarding not only the location of her King's tomb but also the location of his aforementioned sacred sword, Skysplitter.

-- It's believed that Caramel's origins is that she is the daughter of the Light and Dark dragons or at least somehow connected to them, albeit this hasn't been confirmed and has only been considered local folklore.

-- She serves sort of as Dark Choco's godmother, and believes that is part of her holy mission given to her by her King to help care for his son. After Choco's corruption, she believes that she failed this duty, and this is a possible motivation for her distancing in the mountains.

-- Brown sugar boba is in fact her second favourite, her number one favourite is matcha. Even though you'd never get that out of her.

[angelasscribbles]

Heir Apparent Chapter 16: Breaking News

Series: Heir Apparent.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Liam x Riley (past)

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes

Word Count: 2,183

A/N: This is my submission for the @choicesprompts, it wasn't planned but once I started writing, I was like oh shit, here is the next chapter of Heir Apparent!

Find the prompt here

Everything else: Master List.

“Holy crap, we’re gonna be late!” Riley yelped when her eyes glanced up at the decorative wall clock. “Turn that off!” she ordered in a cross tone to her companion, who was still watching the streaming show.

“Late? For what?” The question was asked in a tone that was both confused and distracted.

“The THING!”

Her companion finally pulled his eyes away from the 60-inch screen, brows furrowed. “I know of no THING,” he protested.

She heaved a huge sigh of exasperation. “It’s on your calendar! Now, stop talking and start moving!” She gently slapped his forearm in light admonishment. “I’m done with the conversation now!”

She turned away to plump her pillows.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she felt arms wrap around her waist and pads of thumbs press into her hips. Her body was a feather as it was pulled back onto the bed.

“Sit back down!” her companion ordered.

The woman frowned at him before her eyes found the television screen again.

What the...? Is that …? WHAT is he doing?

“I’m sat!” Riley informed him as she plunked down onto the mattress next to him.

Drake had stopped the episode of Top Chef he’d been watching, and the news had come up on the regular cable channel it was now tuned to. Liam’s face was plastered all over the screen. But it wasn’t Liam giving a news conference like she had first thought. It was old footage of him accompanying a breaking story.

The scrawl across the bottom of the screen made her heart sink, “Oh, no.” She breathed out in a quiet panic, their dinner with the Valtorian council forgotten.

“I’m so sorry, babe.” Drake told her, his eyes full of concern as they traced her face.

“Turn it up please.”

“Are you sure?”

She simply nodded. He pointed the remote at the sixty inch flat screen and pushed the volume button.

“A confidential source tells us that Cordonia will soon have its heir despite the king’s relationship status as a confirmed bachelor.” The female reporter with short cropped brunette hair spoke to the camera.

“So how does that work?” The middle aged male anchor asked her.

“Well, there is some precedence in our history. The father of Queen Kenna’s children is unknown as she chose another woman as her life partner, but it never mattered because Kenna was the one who carried the Rys blood. It’s a little tricker when the male parent to the out of wedlock child is the one in the line of succession, but there is still plenty of precedence for it. There have been illegitimate children named as heir before when the monarch had no true born children. King Fabian, for example, his biological children were conceived with his mistress, not his wife. He simply had to claim and legitimize them. Unlike a hundred years ago, we now have DNA testing, so confirming paternity is really a simple matter and my source tells me that this testing has already been done. The child in question has allegedly been confirmed as the biological child of King Liam Rys.”

“Do we know who the alleged mother is?” The anchor asked.

Riley’s hand landed on Drake’s arm, her fingers pressing into him. He scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her. This was exactly what they were hoping to avoid. They had wanted to make the announcement themselves, in order to better control the narrative. The last thing he wanted was to have his pregnant wife blindsided by a hoard of rabid reporters on a random Tuesday when she was trying to shop or attend a council meeting.

He had increased the number of guards on her detail. With Liam’s consent and full support, he had quickly thrown together a new guard until that basically amounted to a queen’s guard. They just didn’t call it that, because she wasn’t the queen. She was the duchess of Valtoria, and she was his wife, not Liam’s.

But she was still carrying the heir to the throne.

“No, Tomas, we don’t have confirmation on the mother yet, but rumors are circulating about several different women the king has been connected to in the past.”

“In the past?” The anchorman asked, “Is the king not connected to anyone right now?”

“If he is, he’s keeping it a secret.” The reporter answered, “King Liam has not been publicly linked to or seen with a woman since he broke his engagement to Madeleine Amaranth. We have reached out to the Countess of Fydelia for comment and she has issued an official statement that she is not pregnant with the king’s baby, or anyone else’s. The countess denies having ever had a physical relationship with the king.”

The camera cut back to the anchorman, “I remember at the time their engagement ended, there were rumors that the break was caused by the king’s feelings for another woman.”

“Yes, Tomas, those rumors were never substantiated, but the woman in question was Riley Brooks, Cordonia’s Every Woman and the current Duchess of Valtoria who married the king’s best friend, Drake Walker in a private, intimate ceremony earlier this year.”

Tomas raised his eyebrows as he insinuated things. “And is there any precedence for the king conceiving an heir with a woman who is married to another man?”

“Yes and no. King Tiberius, the great great grandfather of King Liam had three children with the married Duchess of Krona, Brinn Albright. But those children were never considered for succession because he had children with his wife as well. He never publicly acknowledged those children, and the Duke of Krona apparently turned a blind eye and raised them as his own. Subsequent DNA testing of descendants have since proven what was known as an open secret at court at the time.”

“Wow. Well, this is going to be history in the making if the mother is married to another man and king claims this alleged heir and inserts them into the line of succession.”

“Yes, Tomas, but it would also serve to strengthen his position by securing the Rys line and calm the pressure from factions that are clamoring for him to marry and produce an heir. If this information is true, then Cordonia has an heir, and the king will not be under pressure to marry any time soon.”

“Well thank you, Merina. It will be interesting to see how this plays out.” Tomas turned away from the screen with Merina on it and faced the camera, “and now all of Cordonia is wondering, who is the mystery woman carrying our future and why hasn’t the king made an official announcement? We’ll be back with Robert Somerson, political analyst, tenured professor of political science at Cordonia University and author of ‘Kings and Queens of Cordonia: A History’ for discussion and some possible answers, right after this break. Please stay with us.”

“Turn it off!” Riley said, barely contained emotion tainting her words.

Drake clicked the television off and took her fully into his arms. His hands ran down her back, stroked through her hair and glided over her shoulders as his mouth trailed through her hair, “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok. I’m here, I’m right here.”

They had known this day would come; they had just hoped for more time. At least the press hadn’t figured out that Riley was the pregnant woman in question, but they would. It was only a matter of time.

“I’m ok.” She wiped at her eyes before staring up into his, “I love you; you understand that right?”

He tightened his grasp around her body. “I do understand that Riley, I’m not running away again, I promise.”

“And I’m not leaving you for Liam, you know that too, right?”

“I know.” He hugged her even tighter. They had already been through hell, their marriage almost torn apart by insecurities, misunderstandings, and lack of communication. He wasn’t making any of those mistakes again.

“You have been nothing short of amazing through all of this and some days I don’t think I deserve you.” She told him.

“Whatever.” He scoffed, “I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you and the whole world knows it.”

“Do you think….should we call Liam?”

Drake sighed as he considered the question. “Not right now. Reporters will be circling him like the vultures they are. Let’s wait. If anyone catches wind that we called him right after that story broke, it could point them in your direction.”

“I think they already are.”

He shook his head, “Nah. You’re just one of several possibilities at this point.”

“It’s going to become obvious soon.” She told him.

His eyes slid down her body. She was right. She was already wearing looser clothes to accommodate her growing belly. It wouldn’t be long before the curve of her once flat stomach was noticeable to the public at large and not just to him. They had hoped to wait until after the baby was born to make an official announcement, but with the press already scenting blood in the water, Liam’s most recent ex walking around Cordonia with a baby bump was going to cause much more than a splash. It was going to set off a feeding frenzy.

And he still hadn’t told his mother or sister.

“We need get out ahead of this and make a statement before they figure it out on their own.” He told her, “But first we need to warn our friends and family because when they can’t get to us, they will fall on people like Hana and Max. Bertrand can handle himself with the press, but my sister needs a heads up and my mom-“

Riley nodded. Hana, Olivia and Max already knew but that was it. She was dreading having to explain the situation to her husband’s family, “Drake, I’m sorry, it’s my fault that-“

“Shhhhh. Don’t start that again. This is part and parcel of the royal lifestyle. The press will always be obsessed with every little thing you do. Your friends and family will always be fair game to them. Max, Bert, Hana, they understand this.”

Riley sniffed as tears threatened to spill down her face, “A lifestyle you never wanted.”

“What?” He drew back to look directly into her eyes, “I know I talk a lot of shit about the nobility, but I’m used to it too, and somehow all the people I love most are part of it. You, Liam, Leo, Savannah now that she’s a Beaumont. Hana. Hell, even Max, and don’t you dare tell him I said that!”

Laughter broke through her tears, “No promises, Walker. The fact that he made that list would send Max over the moon and you know it!”

“Yeah. That’s precisely why he can never know.” Drake chuckled as he wiped at the errant tear that escaped and trickled down her cheek. 

“Ok.” Riley drew away from him and stood up, “We’ll get everyone together in the next day or two. Meanwhile, we still have to get to that council dinner I was trying to tell you about. Nothing can look amiss and we’re already late!”

“Ok, you’re right.” He stood and stretched, “But I still maintain that I had no prior knowledge of this thing, as you called it.”

“Yes, Drake, it’s on your calendar, I put it there myself!” She told him indignantly as she reached for his phone.

He let her pull it out of his pocket and watched as she scrolled through it. Her face lit up triumphantly as she opened his calendar app then immediately fell, her brows creasing as she scrolled back and forth through it. “What? Shit. No, no, I know I put it on here!”

“Are you sure you didn’t just think about putting it in there?” He laughed as he reached for his phone.

“Yeah, maybe.” She muttered sheepishly as she handed it back, “Fucking pregnancy brain!”

“It’s ok babe. I got it. I’ll call and let them know we’re running late while you go pee. I know you need to, and probably grab a snack to eat on the way as well.”

“I don’t need a snack on the way to dinner, Drake!” She said indignantly.

He gave her a look.

She flushed, “Fine, ok, I could use a granola bar. Shut up!”

He held his arms up as he laughed, “I didn’t say anything!”

He watched her scurrying around the room getting ready and he felt like his heart might explode. Despite everything that had happened, here they were, together, happy, in love.

He knew all hell was about to break loose, but he also knew that come what may, they could handle it. Because he could handle anything as long as he had her by his side and in his corner. He didn’t even care that she kept forgetting to inform him about council meetings until the last minute. He didn’t care that marrying her had made him a duke. All he cared about was that he was hers and she was his and they were happy.

[sound-of-god]

"Echoes of Gotham: The Enigma Unraveled"

Part one

[Disclaimer:English is not my first language]

Amidst the bustling cityscape, Number Five, his demeanor serious and focused, traverses the urban labyrinth with calculated steps. His keen eyes catch sight of a peculiar anomaly, a swirling vortex pulsating against the worn brick of a secluded alleyway. Instantly recognizing the potential danger, Five's mind races with hypotheses as to the anomaly's origin and purpose.

Pausing in his tracks, brows furrowed in concentration

'An unexpected disruption in the fabric of reality... But why here? And more importantly, who or what could have caused it?'

Approaching the anomaly cautiously, Five's analytical mind sifts through a myriad of possibilities. He considers the ramifications of tampering with the delicate balance of space-time, his thoughts weighed down by the gravity of the situation.

Number Five whisperd with concern: 'This isn't just some random occurrence. Someone or something must have triggered this anomaly intentionally. But for what purpose?'

As he cautiously approaches the vortex, a sense of urgency grips Five. He understands the potential consequences of allowing such a disturbance to go unchecked, and his sense of duty compels him to investigate further despite the risks involved.

He thinks muttering to himself

'If I'm going to figure this out, I need to gather more information. But I must proceed with caution. Whatever lies beyond that portal could pose a threat not just to me but to the entire city.'

Determined and resolute, Number Five inches closer to the anomaly, his senses on high alert. But just as he reaches out to examine it, a sudden surge of energy erupts from the vortex, pulling him into its shimmering depths with irresistible force. With a startled cry, Five disappears into the swirling abyss, leaving behind only echoes of his determination and a lingering sense of foreboding in the empty alleyway.

The chaotic whirl of the vortex thrusts Number Five through the fabric of reality, depositing him unceremoniously onto cold, unforgiving pavement. As he regains his bearings, his sharp mind instantly kicks into overdrive, analyzing his surroundings with meticulous precision.

Number Five thought to himself, his thoughts echoing in the disorienting silence 'where am I? This location doesn't match any of the coordinates in my database.'

Surveying the dilapidated alleyway, Five's keen eyes caught the flicker of distant streetlights and the echoing cacophony of urban life. Despite the disorientation of his sudden arrival, his demeanor remained composed, his every movement deliberate and measured.

<An unexpected displacement event, likely triggered by the temporal anomaly I encountered earlier.> He thought, his mind already racing ahead to formulate a plan of action.

As the distant sounds of chaos drew nearer, Five remained unfazed, his analytical mind already considering potential escape routes and strategic vantage points.

Urban landscape, signs of decay, and heightened levels of ambient noise, he observed, his thoughts a calm counterpoint to the impending chaos. All indicators point to a densely populated metropolitan area, but one I've never encountered before.

Suddenly, the distant sounds of shouting and screeching tires grew louder, signaling the approach of unknown forces. Without missing a beat, Five calculated his next move, weighing the risks and benefits with cool detachment.

'I may be out of my element, but I refuse to be caught off guard, he resolved silently, his mind a whirlwind of calculations and contingencies. It is time to gather intelligence and assess the situation before making any hasty decisions.' He grits in between his teeth

With practiced precision, Number Five disappeared into the shadows of the alleyway, his senses attuned to the unfamiliar terrain. In this strange new world, he knew that adaptability and strategic thinking would be his greatest assets, guiding him through the challenges that lay ahead.

As Number Five navigates the unfamiliar alleyway, his mind continues to churn with thoughts and memories, seeking patterns and connections amidst the chaos. Suddenly, a fragment of his past surfaces in his consciousness, a memory from a mission long ago.

In the depths of his mind, Five recalls the familiar sting of adrenaline as he once again finds himself on the precipice of danger. He remembers the directives of the organization that had sent him, the urgency of the mission, and the weight of responsibility that had always rested upon his young shoulders.

Number Five's thoughts drift back to countless instances where he had been thrust into perilous situations, his training and instincts honed to perfection by years of rigorous preparation. He remembers the importance of remaining calm and composed, of assessing every variable with unyielding precision.

With a sense of familiarity, Five acknowledges the parallels between his current predicament and those he had faced before. He knows that now, as then, he must rely on his intellect and resourcefulness to navigate the challenges ahead.

Drawing upon the lessons of his past, Five steadies himself, his resolve unwavering. He knows that panic is a luxury he cannot afford, and that in the face of uncertainty, clarity of thought is his greatest ally.

Armed with this newfound resolve, Number Five presses forward, his steps purposeful and deliberate. Though the road ahead may be fraught with danger and uncertainty, he is undaunted, for he knows that in the crucible of adversity, true strength is forged.

As Number Five continues to navigate the unfamiliar terrain of the alleyway, his sharp eyes catch sight of a crumpled object lying amidst the debris on the ground. Curiosity piqued, he stoops to examine it, his little fingers gingerly unfurling the weathered pages of an old newspaper.

Number Five's brow furrows in confusion as he takes in the faded print and torn edges of the discarded publication. Most of the text is illegible, blurred by time and neglect, but one phrase stands out with stark clarity: "Gotham News."

He reads the words again, his mind racing to make sense of this unexpected discovery. Gotham? The name triggers a flicker of recognition in his memory, a distant echo of something familiar yet elusive.

Number Five's confusion deepens as he struggles to reconcile the evidence before him with the fragmented recollections swirling in his mind. Where exactly is Gotham, and how did he come to find himself here?

With a sense of urgency, Five scans the surrounding area, seeking further clues that might shed light on his current predicament. But the alleyway remains silent and devoid of answers, the only sound the distant hum of the city beyond.

Frustration gnaws at the edges of his resolve as Number Five grapples with the mysteries of his newfound surroundings. Though the newspaper offers tantalizing hints, it only serves to deepen the enigma of his situation.

Determined to unravel the truth, Number Five pockets the tattered newspaper, a tangible reminder of the puzzle that now confronts him. With each step forward, he knows that he draws closer to uncovering the secrets that lie hidden within the labyrinthine depths of Gotham City.

And so, with the weight of uncertainty pressing upon his shoulders, Number Five sets forth into the unknown, his indomitable spirit driving him ever forward towards the next chapter of his extraordinary journey. For in the shadows of Gotham, amidst the chaos and intrigue of a city shrouded in mystery, Number Five will discover truths beyond his wildest imagination, and face challenges that will test the limits of his strength and cunning. But one thing remains certain: he will not rest until the enigma of Gotham is unraveled, and the secrets of his own past are laid bare before him.

[So lately, I've been obsessed with number Five from 'Umbrella academy' and the Gotham city FYP tiktoks, so here I am fighting against my writer's block and creating a new series instead of posting König fanfics...]

[slythepuffle]

Pastaverse Drabbles

The Pastaverse Drabbles are random headcanons or world-building lore I've made for my version of the Creepypasta universe. Other fandoms I'm in will also get similar types of blurbs. This blurb contains terms I use in the verse, inspired by things I've seen in fanfiction, fanart, or other types of projects.

Pasta: The general umbrella term for all non-human (or formerly human) creatures. It is considered somewhat of a slang word among them, having only popped up due to the internet horror stories based off of them known as “Creepypastas”.

Operator: An ancient, eldritch entity of great power. They can manipulate the reality around them, making it hard for them to be found unless they wish to be found, and create Realms to live in away from the human eye. Electronics react badly in their presence unless modified to withstand them. They command large groups of Proxies, who do their bidding and are sent on missions for their masters.

Proxy (Plural Proxies): Servants of Operators, a mix of monsters, ghosts, and serial killers. They are made to do whatever their Operator is asked of them and are usually sent out on missions to the human world. They cannot be harmed by human weapons nor harm Proxies that serve the same master. Proxies under other Operators are free game though.

Neutrals: Creatures who can wander between the different realms and the human world, unclaimed by an Operator. They live by themselves among the humans, or within Pockets made as a side effect of the creation of Realms. The most common and populated Pocket where Neutrals reside is known as Tartarus.

Marked: Creatures or humans that are under the protection of an Operator. It makes it so that the Proxies of the Operator are dissuaded from harming them, and warns against other Operators and their Proxy from attacking them. One may consider them to be “blessed” (or cursed in some perspectives).

Spawn: “Children”, connected by either blood or other means, of Operators. Most end up as Proxy, serving their parent as any loyal children would do. Some Proxy can even elevate themselves to the level of Spawn, if their master so decides it. One Operator is known for having the most Spawn, creating the subcategory of Zalgospawn.

Episodes: An act caused by a Trekken. This only affects Pastas who were originally something or someone else before. They will fall into a sort of trance and begin on a Spree, unable to be calmed or stopped until the Episode ends. They will have no recollection of what they did during the Spree. It has been reported that, while having an Episode, the Pasta sees and hears nothing but static.

Trekken: The trigger of Episodes. This is a memory, or memories, that are taken from Pastas who were originally something or someone else before. They will not be aware of what this memory is, only being met with a headache if they try to recall it. Should a Pasta be reminded or told of the memory, they will fly into an Episode. Once the Episode is finished, they will have forgotten the memory again.

Sprees: The result of an Episode. Blind, senseless slaughter done in distress due to the trauma of the memory forgotten. It is usually reported as a mass murder with an unknown cause and culprit, with a terrifyingly high number of victims. Afterward, Pastas are left extremely exhausted and will often collapse.

Realm: A dimension made by Operators for them and their Proxies to live in. The original spot that they were spawned from is guarded by a sort of field, so that humans who happen to approach are deterred from continuing. Other Pasta, whether Proxies or Neutrals, are not allowed to enter another Realm without permission from the Operator who made it. Pockets are made as a side effect of the creation of a Realm.

Pocket: A smaller Realm, in a sense. They are created as a side effect of an Operator creating a Realm. The creation of a Realm can spawn two or three Pockets. The most populated Pocket is known as Tartarus, where many Neutrals make their home.

[aetherin21]

Sudden growth spurt after 150 years seems tough

Pairing: Choso x Reincarnated!reader

Genre: fluff, angst (kinda slow burn)

Notes: Try to get my writing juice back :))

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Chapter 4:

No wonder he's got dark circles, give the man some sleep!

November 1, 2018

3: 10 AM

Unknown

Like the colorful assorted wrappers, their bodies littered beside the makeshift bonfire. The night had been awfully long and it finally found its way into the homes of their bones. Taking pity on their battered forms, the flickering flame gently rocked them in their seats as peace sang her lullaby. Choso reveled in such a blissful serenade sitting in the middle of a heartwarming performance. Closing his eyes, he let himself join his two companions in their deep slumber. There they all drift back and forth from the sweet warmth of oranges and fresh coolness of blackness. As if their minds seemed to have clasped each other's hands in agreement, that this momentary reprieve is what they all needed. For what awaits their tomorrow may be filled with arduous trials and —

Tap. 

Tap. 

Tap.

Only a minute into eternity, the sound of three consecutive clicking knocked on the eldest's consciousness causing him to stir from his short rest. It was nice while it lasted, he annoyingly thought. 

Slowly opening his tired eyes, the noise had brought the brunette to another plane. A place where cicadas and rustling leaves rejoiced as the heat haze held everything together. Streaks of assorted yellows and reds enter the room without invitation, splashing everything with its palette. Along its lines within the familiar landscape, a lone girl sat idly. Her hand weakly fans away the stroke of sweat while babbling nonsense to no one in particular. It was a perfect visage of a painted summer and it had greeted him kindly.

“Are you listening…?” She said, clearly bored in the fortress of paper talismans and prayer beads. Humming to the wind, her usual chattering came to a halt. Instead, she bounced her head playfully side to side as if trying to catch his attention. She seemed eager to converse with him and Choso finds it rather odd. Usually she would continuously fill his and his siblings’ glass abode with profound ideas and dumb philosophies. Not thinking nor caring if they could hear her or not but right now, it seems it isn’t the case. 

Puffing her cherry lips in feign annoyance, shiny marbles glare intensely at his glass cage. Still waiting for his response while permanently imprinting his image in the free space of her brain. There he saw for a moment his repulsive view that was reflected on its surface change its shape. As if his mind was playing tricks on him, he felt that she was directly addressing him. Not his embryonic self stuck in a cold test tube but the man Choso had become and it caught him off guard. He could only stare at her dumbfoundedly. Was this… not a memory?

He already knew she was eccentric in her own ways. Always yammering about random things, preparing meals for each of his numbered siblings like tributes and sometimes even tucking them to sleep in a room specially prepared for them. She was unbothered by their unsightly appearance and because of that he felt a sense of comfort, a sense of normality in her presence. It was a nice feeling, a sensation he wished would last forever.

“Yes. I am listening.” he answered in small jest. If this was a memory within a dream, it was a rather pleasant one. 

Finally hearing his response, she chuckled in satisfaction. “Good. Took you long enough to answer.” Continuing where she left off with a content sigh. “You know. Siblings need to rely on each other.” Eyes now downcasted as her arms lay on top of the table. Her earlier attempts to quell the humid terrain had become rather futile. Not even refreshing afternoon snacks can soothe the burning ache of her skin. Resting her little head on her arms and letting her lashes flutter shut in defeat. The only thing she could do was prostrate herself to Amaterasu’s feet. After all, to resist the goddess’ passion is unworthy of the charity of the seasons to come. Well that's what she said, anyway.

“There’s no one in the world who would truly understand you better than them and vice versa.” 

The young Curse at that time had no choice but to heed her words as his all seeing eye absorbed her vulnerable being. He noticed the small strands that were once carefully tucked away behind the shell of her ear began to fall one by one, further framing her delicate features like a halo. “After all they are your family and blood is thicker than water.” she said with a gracious smile.

“Choso.”

Jolting back to the crackling verses of reality, his eyes looked at Yuji with utmost worry. Remembering the horrors of what had happened just a few hours ago, her words now felt like daggers that weighed deep into his palms. Reminding him once again of his bound duty. He had already failed to protect his two brothers and now all that remained was what was in front of him and what was left hidden in that cold storage room. Silently, he could only pray to the watchers above for a sliver of compassion to his family. But knowing how cruel the world works, he could only fight through its unyielding fate. 

The pink haired boy on the other hand simply snored his exhaustion away as if without a care in the world unknowing of his elder's anxiety. It was a sight to see, really, comical even and it had somewhat calmed his turbulent mind. Legs and arms were like tentacles as he lay on the ground. The blanket that they had brought was strewn across his body like shedded skin. Standing up from his spot, Choso made his way to his younger brother dragging the cloth over to his chin and carefully ruffling his hair good night as the child slept blissfully. One day he'll call me big brother.

Looking in the other direction, his second companion curled her body in a cocoon-like state. Seemingly protecting herself from the world before her very opposite of the boy before him. Head craned in an awful manner, the discomfort was evident. Choso couldn’t help but frown at the sight of her pitiful state. Hastily, he took his own blanket and folded it to make a makeshift pillow. Slowly lifting her up with his slender fingers, he placed it underneath her. Successfully not waking her from her dreamland, the twisted expression had faded as a soft snore left her lips causing the edge of his own rose buds to lift up to his cheeks. 

Admiring his work, pride swells deep within him as both of his companions lay in serenity. It was Choso’s cue to go back to his own spot and catch all the Zs he could get before the sunrise. Turning around on his heel, a sudden tug could be felt at the edge of his sleeve. Eyeing the source, the culprit was none other than the sleeping girl. Gripping on to him unconsciously, she probably mistook his robes as an extension of her blanket. Without a sound, he placed his hand on hers, prying each of her delicate appendages off of him. But for some reason such fragile fists seem to hold an unusual strength, stubbornly hanging onto him. Why won't she let go? Trying once more, he bit his bottom lip as a tiny crystal of sweat traveled across his cheek. Tenderly, he increased the strength on his fingertips. She's not budging at all. 

With the fading moon looming over him, time was not on his side. No choice but to resign to fate, he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Choso gave up. 

Now laying beside her, he observed the girl’s features for the nth time of the day. Drinking every little detail he had missed before. Imprinting them in his memory. The creases of fear and worry had faded along with the tears that stained on her cheek.  All of it washed by the steady calmness of her breath and the drool that fought at the corner of her parted lips. Choso couldn't help but yawn with content at her silly little expression. Finally, brushing the fallen strands of her hair away, he whispered a soft —

“Good night.”