#roach needs an agent

[roach-works]

There is word going around that tumblr is moving to be a legacy project and will eventually be sunsetted. Ive been following your work for probably close to a decade, and id hate to lose track of you if tumblr goes down eventually. Is there anywhere else i can continue to follow and support you?

the sky has been falling on tumblr since forever, and yet i stick around. i don't know where else i'd actually enjoy, and im not interested in having a flood of people pitch me new alternatives. i know what i like, and i like tumblr, so ill probably ride this bizarre hellsite to the very last stop.

i might get a bluesky or a pillowfort eventually--if i do, i'll announce it. im finally going to have more time for creative work this winter, so it's possible i'll finally haul myself bitching and moaning on to instagram.

the boat boys series is getting another novel-length installment; in fact, the sequel to after the storm turned out to be three novels long, and so now the focus is on editing book two act one into publishing shape. it's probably going to be published like After the Storm, as a wordpress serial.

i've also recently finished the rough draft of my first solo novel, a coming of age superhero romcom. it's been pretty funny watching everyone start nano just as i typed The End on a story that took me a year and a half. anyway my goal this winter is to get the manuscript into decent shape and then hunt down an agent. if any agents have also been following my tumblr for a decade, hi, i love you, please save me.

after all that, im thinking ill either learn rug tufting or get really into furry porn. possibly both! gigantic neon monster penis could be a very fun subject for throw rugs.

anyway, i have a lot of cool stuff in motion im very excited to share, and ill find a way to let people know about it. thanks for sticking around!

[phantom-vs-agents]

Scuttle groaned as he heard the rapping at his door signifying that someone was there. With a grumble, but still keeping his blanket around him, he slowly opened it. Face tired, bags under his eyes, and blanket tightly wrapped around him, he let out a croaky: “Yeah?”

[bodydoublegame]

hello! it's amy! if you follow my personal account, you'd already know what this is. body double is a side project that i do for fun inbetween infamous, just for when i need to refresh my brain! i decided to make a blog for it so i don't flood my personal account with this game lol.

This game is a side project that I do when I need inspiration for Infamous. That means development on it will be sloooow. Infamous is my main priority right now!

Body Double is a an interactive story that takes place in a cyberpunk inspired world where top secret operatives of an elusive Cypress Industries have the unique ability to jump bodies.

Agent Sawyer is the best Agent in the business, tasked with protecting Cypress Industries and all of its assets.

Until three weeks ago.

Framed for the president's murder and in a last-ditch effort to save their ass, they switch bodies with our regular, ordinary IT-tech MC...who is now walking in the body of a suspect the entire city is looking for. Stuck in a citywide manhunt, MC is now on the run with a pesky Agent who refuses to tell them where their body is. To make matters worse, Agent Sawyer's subconcious is stuck in their head, speaking to them like a pest MC can't shake off.

Wonderful.

With a help of a host of characters from Sawyer's past and MC's present, MC will have to throw themself in a conspiracy to clear Sawyer's name and get back to normal. Relatively. No pressure.

The usual IF stuff: customize your mc from personality to appearance. Unsurprisingly from me, BODY DOUBLE is a character driven story with a focus on relationship dynamics, angst and drama...but this time with action.

Mold Sawyer in the prologue and be stuck with them in your head for the rest of the story. Are they humorous? Stoic? Vulgar? Emotional? Arrogant? You decide.

Romance characters like Sawyer's ex (messy) or the human-mech hybrid trying to kill you (messy) or your measly IT tech friend who has no idea what the hell is going on but they're a trooper. Or an AI. Your call.

Try to uncover a conspiracy and solve a murder in a cyberpunk setting.

Don't die?

SAWYER [RO][customizable]: the agent accused of murder. The wires get crossed when they switch bodies with you, and somehow you have their subconcious in your head. They refuse to switch back until you help clear their name even though you're in their body, which means people are after you now. Asshole move, really.

ROACH: Sawyer's twin brother and perpetual hermit. As a hacker, he has eyes all over the city. He also misses his sibling, so he's determined to see it through.

AGENT BECK [f or m] [RO]: A cool and intimidating fellow Agent of Cypress Industries...and Sawyer's ex partner. Sawyer dumped them, broke their heart, and since then, ghosted them (as one does.) With that said, Beck is determined to help you. And them. Just make sure to try to ignore the longing looks they send your way. It's not towards you, of course.

CAI [RO] [f, m or nb models] : Cypress AI or CAI is Sawyer's former field partner. Honest, cold and emotionless, you can't believe CAI is actually helping you. It must be going against their every makeup to go against Cypress, but having someone like them on your side is beneficial, at least.

HAWKE [m][RO]: the mech-human hybrid tasked with hunting you down. Well, hunting Sawyer down. Their one mission is to see you (Sawyer) dead, which poses a problem so as long as you're in this body. So there's that.

SOLANA [f][RO]: the elusive club owner...and the last person to see the president alive. You can't tell if Solana is an ally or an enemy, but you do know the one thing that drives her is power. Good to keep an eye on her, anyway.

AXL [nb] [RO]: the wealthy child of the now dead president and new heir of Cypress Industries. They hate your (Sawyer's) guts. They have hired all the best operatives and assassins to take you (Sawyer) down, and will stop and nothing to get their justice. If only you could convince them otherwise...

MAV [f or m] [RO]: your best friend and fellow IT employee. A trooper, who decides to be your sidekick on this weird...journey. No biggie. Make sure they don't die.

As usual, BD is 18+ for adult themes, explicit language, suggestive situations, violence and more! <3

[ciaomarie]

Waiting on my AO3 invite. Here's a one shot Sydcarmy story. Canon compliant. Post season 2. Please excuse the grammar/spelling mistakes. I need season 3 to get here quickly!

Title: Won't You Be My Neighbor

It was her break and for the 89th time in the last three days Sydney reassessed the apartments within 15 minutes walking distance from The Bear. As CDC she no longer wanted to depend on the train should there be some kind of accident, strike, or weather event. There were three that she could afford on her own and many more options if she were willing to become a roommate. She wasn't. If inspiration for a recipe struck her at 2am she wanted to get up and cook if she wanted. She loved the freedom of walking around naked after a shower, picking out her clothes or getting a snack. Most of all she missed turning up her music and dancing like an inflatable tube man in private.

She had sent a message to each leasing office to schedule an appointment next Monday and two of the three had confirmed a 10a and 11a showing. It had been more than 48 hours since she messaged the third so she called. The leasing agent informed her that the specific unit she wanted was no longer available, but they had a gorgeous 2 bedroom for $3800 a month if she was interested. "Okay, now that's just two options" Sydney muttered after getting off the phone.

"Hey mija, what you looking at?" Tina asked sitting down to eat lunch.

"Just apartments. I finally have the funds to move" Sydney answered with a sigh.

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to be getting out on your own?"

"Oh, yeah for sure. It's just I'm really picky"

"Well, it doesn't have to be forever. Just make sure to read the reviews. You don't want roaches or bed bugs".

"Oh, I can't stand bugs! My dad still has to kill them for me, but I better get a fly swatter and spray now that I'll be on my own soon."

Break was over and Sydney stood up to resume her duties. First she needed to talk to Natalie about the upcoming private party. A celebrity had reserved the entire restaurant next Thursday evening. The names of all staff members on duty that night had to be submitted ahead of time with signed NDAs. It was all happening so fast and The Bear's debt was likely to be paid less than a year after opening. First there had been a Grio article about her being a rising black chef. That led to Keith Lee, the TikTok restaurant reviewer, raving about his to-go order that included the T-Bone and the Michael cannoli. It went viral and suddenly, they were booked for the next three months with a waiting list. She was working harder than ever, getting paid pretty well, and she deserved a place of her own.

After talking to Natalie, she found Carmy working on her prep.

"Hey, thanks! I can take over that now if you want"

"Actually….it's done. I wanted to take you somewhere for like 30 minutes" he said finishing up and cleaning the station.

Sydney folded her arms, her eyebrows raised high.

"Okay, where are we going?"

"I know you've been looking for a place and I think know the perfect apartment for you. Just a 10 minute walk from here. The landlord gave me the key so I could show you today" Carmy said trying to sound casual, but a deep pink flush rose in his cheeks.

"Why is he being weird?" Sydney thought but simply said "Okay, that's dope."

The Chicago air was soft and warm, the clean sunlight making everything look new. Summer afternoons like this made you forgive the brutal winters here. Carmy directed Sydney when to turn left and right, but refused to tell her where exactly they were going. Soon they were standing in front of his building.

The reason for his weirdness was now perfectly clear to Sydney and she felt so flattered that she had to avoid looking at Carmy when she said "So, there's an open unit in your building?"

"Uh, yeah. The people who lived just above me moved and I, uh, thought you might want to see it".

The apartment was on the fourth floor. Carmy unlocked the door and let Sydney go in first. The walls were freshly painted in "Cloud White" and the oak hardwood floors creaked comfortably under their feet. The layout was the same as Carmy's apartment with plenty of windows to let in natural light and a shockingly large kitchen for a 1 bedroom place in Chicago. As Sydney inspected the appliances and bathroom, she decided that if the rent was going to eat up even half of her check it was worth it. She had always admired Carmy's spacious apartment and with her sense of style she could make hers, a cozy bohemian oasis filled with plants, wall art, and actual furniture (eventually).

Carmy had let her roam around in silence for a few minutes, muttering and emitting tiny sounds of joy to herself. When she met him in the living room again, he said trying not to grin too widely, "If you like it, it's already yours."

"How? I know places like this are snatched up fast" Sydney said her eyes finally able to meet his again.

"The landlords, they're a couple, and their 20th wedding anniversary is coming up. They want reservations at The Bear." Carmy explained, desperately hoping to sound nonchalant about it.

"Oh, that's nice work, Carmy."

Then Sydney squealed and cried "This is just what I wanted!!" and she flung her arms around his shoulders in a wild hug. Carmy commanded his body not to shudder as he hugged her back. She was just wearing a t-shirt and without her usual layers of clothing he felt her delicate frame, her slim shoulder blades imprinting on his fingers.

In a moment Sydney pulled back shly and let her arms fall to her sides, her face burning. She made a mental note: Hugging Carmy. Not a safe activity for those who want to cook along side him using sharp objects or sleep peacefully at night dreaming innocent thoughts.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" Sydney said taking another step back and making another turn around the room.

Carmy nodded and concentrated on not melting into the floorboards.

"You're okay with this? We already spend 60+ hours together at the restaurant every week and now I'd be in your building! And literally living on top of you."

"Yeah, well, I want you to. You deserve everything you want, Syd."

"Then I'll take it! Just a warning though. If you hear someone belting out Kpop and an occasional thud, that's just my weekly one woman concert, which will be over no later than 10pm. I'm not being murdered."

Carm was no longer unable to contain the width of his smile. This girl is so cute, his body physically ached. How would he get through service tonight?

With a happy shake of his head, he replied, "Thank you, for the heads up!"

With that Sydney marched towards the door and exclaimed "Take me to your landlord!"

Carmy floated behind her.

Cue: Maxwell's "Whenever, Wherever, Whatever"

[wraithdance]

Earth signs and the torrid affair I have with you people 🙄

Disclaimer: astrology is not one sized fits all. it’s just a general overview of what traits you may have. Without the complete history of what experiences occurred in your life and made you who you came to be or the combination of signs in your chart, there’s no guarantee you’ll fit every tick on your sun sign.

Taurus: no one wants to know how much you spent on that one specific luxury you can’t let go of!!

Despite my better judgment I love Taurus’ yall are upfront about who you are and usually your stubborn nature leads to getting results. You like nice things a LOT! The sanctity of home and the quality of your things are super important to you. You’re comfortable acting with authority and your wit is out of this world.

The issue is when you neglect to do the internal work you’re a goddamn bully! If this were the titanic you’d throw the rest of us overboard for a second out of the freezing waters! It doesn’t have to be every man for themselves, you CAN believe that the people beside you want what’s best for you too! Also STOP OVERSPENDING!! Learn to budget for fucks sake you don’t need caviar or whatever we aren’t impressed!

I give you: a five week stay in a roach motel, maybe the experience will scare you straight (also sliding you my number because I like that bossy shit- a lot 🫡)

Virgo- messy boots. Shit stirrer. Also some how a creative genius

I can give respect where respect is due. Yall don’t half ass a single thing you’re into. True old souls and music connoisseurs! You’re not everyone’s cup of tea because you can be a bit bitchy just because you hold yourself to a standard that just comes naturally to you. You love a lil gossip, a lil bit of drama! If anyone wants to know what’s going on there’s a good chance you already have your ear to the ground. You’d make a great CIA agent tbh.

But that’s a deterrent to making genuine connections because no one likes to feel like they’re the butt of the joke. Especially if you’re also not offering more than a peek into your own lil world. Learn to relax you’re already so far ahead of the curve and there’s no need to drive yourself to the ground!

I give you: nothing you’ve already got Beyoncé be satisfied with that smfh

Capricorn: taking authority kinks to a new level smfh

You’re very serious about the brand of excellence you put out. You mean what you say 9/10 and like virgos you don’t like to half do anything. You’re probably business minded in some capacity and you really don’t play about your money. Maybe you’re someone who wraps a lot of their sense of self into being successful!

The second there’s nothing on your calendar there’s an itch beneath your skin and an eye twitch. Like Taurus’ when shit hits the fan for you you’re looking out for numero uno because you just can’t trust that anyone else gets the gravity of the situation. Do some internal work. The world won’t end if you rested!

I give you: a shiny penny I found, I’m sure you’ll love it you goddamn bridge troll!!

[starrrbakerrr]

is anyone else so excited for the book, but really dreading the movie?

olive-skinned haymitch/seam isn’t a want, it’s a need at this point, but as they are expanding the visual universe and continuing casting white people in every district, it’s making it less canon that katniss, gale, haymitch and the seam are brown and that the divide between seam and merchant is apparent and noticeable. because to them (casting agents, director, etc), besides jessup and a couple extras, BIPOC people only exist in D11, not even in D10 which is located where Central America is today.

and this is no hate to suzanne because i really love the series and i will always support it, i just hate the concept of writing the book and lionsgate making a shit ton of money capitalizing off the world and lessons suzanne is trying to warn audiences. because for some reason the general public spent a good two months thirsting over a dictator and excusing his actions and abuse. and now it’s trendy for people to call zendaya and law roach “katniss and cinna” like katniss’s fashionable moments weren’t occurring under tragic circumstances. these people are the capitol citizens and should be gatekept from them.

there is so much potential for the book though and im still very excited!

[crunchyroaches27]

pt2 of hybrid!Soap and owner!rescuer!Ghost

one of my first fanfics, I apologize beforehand 😔✊

ermm.. sorry I took like two years to post this

AU where soap and a couple other randos are half a different species bc of evil scientists!1!! Soap is half tiger.

GHOST’S POV

Gaz and Roach had agreed with Ghost to split up the responsibilities. They each chose three hybrids to examine. The three men all wished each other luck in their difficulties, and strutted off.

Ghost had ended up with the responsibility of analyzing Hector, a male eagle hybrid, Dimah, a female dog hybrid, and (after much convincing and persuading) Soap. The engrossing tiger hybrid.

The first hybrid was quite a challenge, many angry screeches and profanities coming out of the eagle in response. "Fuck off!" He'd caw. Ghost chucked a chunk of meat treated with a calming agent, and observed as the hybrid's temper soon died down as he ate it.

Everything soon went smoothly, and Ghost (clad in his most protective armor) started to examine the man. His eyes, mouth, etc. Ghost was no doctor, but he made sure to be diligent and meticulous.

The dog hybrid was a fairly simple task. The woman, at first glance, was skeptical of Ghost. She kept her distance. Realizing Ghost was no threat, she bounded up to him, eagerly hugging and greeting Ghost in Urdu.

She stood there, docile, patient, as Ghost prodded and explored her body, checking off little boxes after every examination. Ghost fed her a slab of raw venison for her good behavior.

Then, finally, came Soap.

Ghost first watched the tiger-man through the transparent wall of glass, as if to determine if Soap needed to be fed a piece of the calming meat. Yet Soap only gazed right back, his curiosity glinting conspicuously in his eyes.

SOAP’S POV

Soap flicked his tail inquisitively. It was the man in the skull mask. He still wasn't sure what it was for, so he ruminated for a while longer, staring into the blue orbs of the mysterious human before continuing to groom himself.

Soap heard the door of his enclosure click open with a high-pitched beep and a shocked, pronounced hiss was delivered from his maw. He jumped to his feet in surprise. Soap took Ghost's intruding of his space as a sign of hostility and he bristled.

"Calm down, mate," Ghost held his hands out in a manner that proved he was no harm. Tentatively, Soap settled back onto his side, ears twitching skeptically as Ghost approached with his checklist. Sounds British, noted Soap.

Soap watched with pupils as thin as hair as Ghost started to pull at his tail, pressing down on it and feeling the bone underneath. Peeved by the uncomfortable pressure on his tail, he sat up in a flash and batted at the side of Ghost’s head audaciously. "Stop that," Soap ordered.

Soap picked up on Ghost’s grumbly noise of frustration. He found that taunting the man was quite humorous. He was quite sardonic, the little prick. Soap sniggered and flicked his tail mischievously, as if inviting Ghost to examine him again. “I’ll let you examine me,” he purred. “Just, eh, tell me yer name.”

GHOST POV

The purr of mischief that came from the tiger was piquing Ghost, but he sighed and tried to melt his angry regards away. “My name is Simon. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.” He introduced himself, and gestured to Soap to part his mug. “Open your gob,” Ghost ordered, pinching a tongue depressor between his index and thumb.

“Ya didn’t say Simon says,” Soap cleverly quipped back, sitting up in his seat. Ghost, for once in his life, found a witty play of words humorous and his eyebrows rose in amusement. “Simon says open your greedy mouth,” he chuckled out, beguiled. “Fuckin’ brits,” Soap obediently carried out the order and parted his jaws, leaving Ghost a bit dumb when his carnivorous teeth revealed themselves. Ghost grunted and pressed down on Soap’s barbed tongue, shining a flashlight to bring light to the back of Soap’s gullet. Ghost scribbled a check mark of the paper.

A cheeky response at every examination was unavoidable.

Soap had stood up upon Ghost’s request, for an evaluation of his physical body. “How tall are you?” Ghost inquired, pen bouncing up and down repeatedly on the checklist. “I like to tell the ladies I’m six-five.” “What ladies?” Soap would then hiss offendedly at Ghost’s equally wicked reply.

Then, came the awkward questions.

Ghost prepared himself mentally, but casually querying about another man’s, no, creature’s shaft with its owner was something Ghost could not do without hours of mental prep. Sadly, he did not have prep.

“Okay, so, you got.. ahem, FIV?” Ghost chewed on his bottom lip; the silence seemed like a constant buzz in his ears. “No. Don’t think so,” Soap susurrated meekly, shifting his weight onto another foot. Soap’s long, round muscles rippled beneath his shirt and for a moment, Ghost was impressed.

Ghost cleared his throat before flipping over a page. “You dysfunctional?” “Er.. no,” Soap would reply once again in a shy intonation, yet there was a faint undertone of frustration. “Healthy swimmers?” “I- Uh, I don’t know.” “Any probl-“ “My dick is fine, Simon.” Soap hissed under his breath, clearly embarrassed to be having this sort of conversation.

“Of- of course.” Ghost suppressed a fat chortle, which made his the corners of his mouth twitch. He ticked off one more box and wrote a couple comments before speaking. “That’s all.” He finished, sauntering towards the exit of Soap’s enclosure.

SOAP’S POV

Soap chewed on his meat that had been chucked at him by Ghost as praise for his good work on his bodily exam. Sure, the last string of questions were awkward, as they were talking about Soap’s barbed dick, but his other owners had done worse. Like collect his semen non-consensually. They’d spritz the urine of a tigress in heat, drive him into a frenzy, then manually fetch his sperm while he was vulnerable for testing.

Soap shuddered at the memory, then at the feeling of pleasure he would gain from that experience. He, no doubt, had reveled in satisfaction when the fleshlight-like object coaxed him into cumming, the way the liquid warmth gratifyingly shot out of him. Soap felt his face flush. The blood in Soap’s rushed to other places other than his mug.

Soap noticed the tightening between his legs, and quickly scrambled to a new position that concealed his erection from the watching cameras. With bated breath, Soap went deeper into his foliaged habitat, thankful that the task force customized his enclosure to his natural environment.

He did his many deeds (as tigers can cum 50 times a day) behind the heavy lush and Soap struggled to stifle his yowls. Instinctually, Soap balled up his fist and pushed it onto his lips. He bit onto the soft tissue, as if it was the nape of a tigress.

GHOST’S POV

Ghost could swore he heard the pesky caterwauling Soap usually produced, but the sound seemed stifled, like if Soap was gagged. His fingers fidgeted uneasily with his belt. Ghost hurried to the camera room and flipped to Soap's channel.

At first tere was nothing unexpected, though. Soap was resting on his makeshift cot, his muscular back facing Ghost. Until he noticed the ragged manner in which Soap’s chest rose and fell, like if he had running in circles for the past two hours.

Ghost tapped on the transparent glass wall in an attempt to draw Soap’s attention. Promptly, Soap twisted to face Ghost, and quickly groomed his hair before sitting up. What? Ghost could see him mouth, not missing the tiny detail that Soap’s face was flushed.

Ghost mimed permission to enter Soap’s territory, prodding a finger at his own broad chest then pointing a finger to inside the foliaged room. Soap tentatively chewed on the bottom of his lip before nodding, shrugging his shoulders dismissively. He laid back down on his little mattress.

Ghost clicked the door open with a swipe of his personalized keycard. “You okay, mate?” He’d question, taking a couple more paces ahead until Soap was an tail’s length away. “Yeah,” Soap would reply back with a lazy meow. Ghost could practically hear the lump Soap just swallowed. “Why’re you looking so.. beat?”

To that, Soap did not reply. Ghost, worried that the hybrid might be homesick (why would he, he’d lived in a hellhole??), he crouched down to examine Soap’s face closer. “MacTavish,” Ghost growled at Soap’s uncharacteristically angsty demeanor; he was having post-nut clarity. Soap rumbled a snarl back in an irritated intonation.

“Wanker,” Ghost commented back silently. Soap snorted and turned his head to look at Ghost from the corner of his eye. “You alright? Hungry..? Sick?” Ghost listed, and for each possibility, Soap just nodded a no. His single, thick strip of hair was disheveled from his activities, and Ghost almost mechanically ran his fingers through the swathe of hair.

Unintentionally, Soap purred as the wordless interaction continued. His throaty vibrations involuntarily hypnotized Ghost into continuing the intimate gesture, with Soap taking it blissfully— his slit eyes slowly blinking. It felt so nice— how could Soap have such soft hair? Ghost dared to rub those cute ears.

SOAP’S POV

Soap mrrped, delightedly surprised with his ear being massaged. For a moment, his ponderous clarity vanished and he leaned into the touch of the mysterious skull-clad man. He gripped Ghost’s flanks, ensuring that the petting would continue. Soap felt a sense of repulsion; he was acting like a wee kitty pet. He loved it at the same time, feeling that soft flesh he so wanted to tear stroke him so deliberately...

”Stop and I’ll claw yer white arse to oblivion,” Soap hissed threateningly, leaning in even closer to Ghost’s touch. At one point, his scalp rubbed against Ghost’s broad shoulder. “Don’t stop,” he breathed once again, tail curling into itself. So, this was what it was like to be treated right? To have his own habitat adapted to his needs? To be able to catch and eat small prey; to be able act as a true tiger every now and then? Soap could get used to that, Lovingly, Soap toppled onto his newfoundedly decided ‘owner.’

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 7 thoughts

today was another awful day at work. trying to hope that it’s just the getting started part that makes this job awful and not that the job itself is awful, but i need my scully and mulder time again tonight. fetch me them. this instant.

let us begin. a man is in a hospital. someone won’t let this man- who we learn is a lieutenant colonel- hurt himself. he glances at a mirror.

oh, and he’s out of his hospital bed and breaking loose. into some boiling water? with weights in his pockets. oh nooooo. someone catches him and he says again that “he won’t let me die” HUH? what is going on???

man, i feel bad for this poor gentleman. idk who is tormenting him so. but i hope the “he” the lieutenant colonel spoke of leaves him alone. 

oh shoot, the agents are there three weeks later and he is in this sort of… facial gear stuff because of the burns. and his hands are wrapped up, too. i realize now i have almost no familiarity with the process of treating burns. i guess i’d never thought on it before.

scully’s taking notes while mulder asks about whoever this poor man sees when these awful things happen… he sees a solider standing at attention. a ghost? a real guy? a secret third thing?

oh! scully is not taking notes. she is passing them. she says it’s classic ptsd. her handwriting… it’s nice <3

the man says that whoever is tormenting him burned his wife and children alive???!?!? hello??!?!

someone pulls them out and asks them to suspend their investigation and scully is NOT having it. at all. putting her foot down. as she should. oh the general can’t talk “ask him to make himself available” okayyyy!!!! mulder looks pleased by this. but some guy delivering mail overheard what was going on and seems deeply troubled.

guy carrying mail goes down the hall and he seems to be crashing a group therapy session, where a man who has lost a leg is describing his recurring dream, which he calls “the walk”, running with his family, and it seems so real. he’s opening up! talking about his feelings! all good things to be doing in therapy!!

and some guy named leonard is being mean??? tearing down his happy dreams? saying they’re not “normal people”. and the walk dreamer says they ARE normal people, but leonard is like nope. no you are not.

leonard points out that he has no arms and no legs and that he prays god will come down and take away the dude leading the group’s arms and legs. oh. this seems unhealthy. then he gets wheeled out by the mail guy. who is named. roach.

roach is freaking out because the fbi agents are here, asking about the lieutenant commander. and he says “to hell with the feds”. so is this leonard the guy that burned his family alive??? is he torturing him?? or something??

now scully and mulder are being called into the general’s office. and the general, named callahan, is yelling at them for misconduct. i’m a little confused tbh but i guess they were supposed to go through him? um. okay. sounds like they’re trying to keep secrets and NOT the fun kind! 

scully is NOT letting this man go. and she shouldn’t! um why doesn’t his file mention his whole family died… yeah i’d be asking the same thing!! the general is like yeah it’s sad. but why are you here.

OH TEA??? ANOTHER person had their family die in a fire and had tried to hurt themselves but kept saying someone was stopping them… oh scully is PISSED today!!! she demands a stop to this nonsense and some answers.

she says she thinks it’s very clear what is going on here: she thinks the men killed their families, and the general is hiding that fact. OH! my brain didn’t go there. but i can see why she would think that. anyway they are sleuthing about. 

general looks stressed as hell. he tells the woman- captain draper- to go home. pulls some alcohol from under the desk. but then HE STARTS SEEING A SOLDIER saying “your time has come”!!! and there are spooky noises coming from a cassette tape!!!! 

draper is swimming. i knew something was about to go down, because we rarely see people swimming just for the fun of it, except that one time in season 2 where mulder was swimming about at the beginning of the episode. anyway, it’s very quiet and spooky. she seems to think she sees something. OH. and something does in fact grab her. and pulls her under?!!!! NOOOOOO 

scully at the scene as they pull the body out. general callahan is there too, and he seems surprised. there are bruises around her neck so it is not looking accidental. 

mulder says that if the pattern is consistent, the general’s family might be in danger. he seems offended by this but a pattern is a pattern. and mulder’s hair is messed up a lil aww. AND NEXT CUT ITS FIXED HAHA they must have spruced him up!!!! that is so funny

general seems to have taken the message to heart. talks about seeing a guy and the phone going wild. 

okay back at the general’s house… someone magically got through the door??? like the mail guy. oh it’s ROACH!! 

(i thought that later in the episode we would get an explanation as to how he sort of just clipped into the house but. it was never revealed)

fbi at the house. playing the spooky audio from the phone message. mulder is pondering. scully is looking around. she is always looking around and i love that about her. SHE SAW SOMEONE IN THE YARD!!! queen of spotting things.

ohhh leonard is at the doctor’s. and roach is approaching. he is bringing something from the callahan’s house TO leonard. and he says he doesn’t want to do it anymore but leonard says he wouldn’t be in the wheelchair if it wasn’t for him, so he owes him. oh that’s not how that works i don’t think…

he says “the enemy must be defeated” um is the enemy your boss? i have had some bosses that are enemies. but he’s speaking as someone who was sent to war and their erroneous decisions put him in peril. so very different context.

the earlier burn victim lieutenant colonel is being wheeled down to the doctors/nurses and he seems really freaked out to see leonard. i wonder if he can sense who it was…

(scully walks in to find mulder replaying the same cassette again and again) “find anything?” “no, but i’m really beginning to like the tape :)” AUGH i paused here to type down that line and he has the BIGGEST nerdiest smile it’s priceless :) need to find this screenshot so i can just look at it when i’m down

but scully says we found some fingerprints!!! and they go to roach’s place and arrest him. mulder is looking about a very nasty kitchen. and in a cupboard he finds mail stolen from all the targeted people!!!!

the general’s son sees a soldier but he’s not worried about it so maybe it’s a guy they know?? or someone guarding them since they might be in danger. but then he gets BURIED IN A SANDBOX??? and the soldier tries to dig him up. 

NO!!! THE BOY DIED!!!! 

this is really sad.

roach, in custody, identifies himself as “rappo’s mailmail” so it turns out rappo is leonard. same guy. and now he’s a suspect. scully thinks roach lied but we can’t rule anything out i know this tv program.

so leonard is dreaming. and roach is saying he knows this place, that he isn’t safe here, that he’s going to be killed. so is it in his dreams that leonard can go about and murder people?

for some reason mulder has been carrying around dental x-ray plates and she’s like “i know, you’ve had them the whole time” so i’m glad they’re at a point in their relationship where they don’t feel the need to ask, “hey, why are you carrying around stuff from the dentist” there is just that implicit trust 

oh, mulder is saying it is a case of astral projection, and that this leaves behind radiation. and maybe he needed a piece of their mail to form a connection. and then he plays the cassette backwards and it says “your time has come, killer” ohhh!!

so they go to question him and mulder jumps straight in with the “why did you kill him and also why can you leave your body” 

OH LEONARD SAYS SOMETHING NASTY TO SCULLY this is a good way to make mulder very angry. but leonard screams in his face about him not knowing war, or what it’s like, and he is INSISTANT that he is astral projecting

the callahans are putting away the boy’s toys nooo it’s so sad :( they’re both crying and he’s pouring a drink when he sees leonard in full gear and then his wife dead on the ground!!! and the phone rings while he pulls out a gun. 

the general has his gun and brings it to the lieutenant colonel. and he says the same guy won’t let them die. and the lieutenant colonel knows who it is!!!

callahan is confronting leonard, who says he killed his wife and his son. he fired like a million bullets. but none of them hit, just went right in the wall. agents roll up just as leonard enters some kind of trance. and callahan gets in the elevator, having refused to kill leonard like he’d hoped for!!!!

the general goes to a bottom floor, where pipes are exploding and the voice is talking about how his time has come.

enter mulder, who finds him on the floor, but also the astral projecting leonard is decking him.

and the colonel goes in there and smothers leonard!!!

scully is mad because she was trying to save leonard from what she thought was a seizure but she was interrupted and instead watched a murder go down. not a great feeling, i’m sure.

episode wrap up. no physical evidence that leonard committed the murders. but he meant to keep his victims alive and suffering. and as mulder talks about the case, the lieutenant colonel walks in and hands the general some stuff. and he walks away pushing a cart, while mulder ponders what can destroy the human nature.

well. that sure was a dark one. 

it turns out i’m not big into episodes where children die. just ruins the whole tone.

i think there were some interesting concepts being explored here, on who suffers the most in war, the ordinary men being sent out to fight and be fought while others give the orders from relative safety. and the resentment that dichotomy causes. as well as the weaponization of survivor’s guilt in the form of roach just going along with the evil schemes. that is interesting. 

but all things considered, it was a bit too dark for me. it was lacking in whimsy or jokes, which i like to keep going at an even pace. i liked to see a very determined scully, and a mulder who was smiling happily on his cassette tape streaming endeavors, but other than that, this was a real bummer.

i will say, it did mostly successfully distract from my garbage day, though, so i do not take this for granted. it just would have distracted me a whole lot MORE had there been a higher number of stolen glances and grasping hands and brushing fingers through each other’s hair or cradling of injured bodies. these are really balm to the wounded soul.

[hirik0]

Catch me if you can part 1

Ghost/Roach | Celebrity AU

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson on Tiktok know simply as 🪳Bugboy 🪳 has one of the biggest fan edit accounts for popular actor Simon Riley best know for his roll as 'the Ghost' in a action movie the first project he worked on after his long child actor career. It was quite a change seeing him going from being the love intressted in teenage movies to a wanted CIA agent that got dropped by the agency. Roach liked both versions what maybe is related to the celebrity crush he has since he is 12. Earlier this year Simon Roley returned to the popular cop show 'The new Sherlock Holmes' he left to film a movie trilogie where he was a Knight fighting in a medieval war. Being the well beloved leader of the SWAT team, Martin Jackson, from new Scotland Yard. It honestly was a hugh suprise he returned but he told in interviews its a fun project while he looks for other interesting projects.

"Stalking Rileys social media again, Gary?", Rodolfo his colleague and best friend asks amused. Having a steaming mug with coffee in on and and an appel in the other. He places the appel on Roaches desk. Roach shakes his head, he is in fact working, staring at the grafic hes making for the past 20 minutes, trying to figure out how to make it that dont causes him to have remake it again in something way worse then what he has.

"As if you dont do the same with Alejandro Vargas", Roach retorts amused, trying to think like the higher-ups, how a social media of a sports team should look like. He knows how to run a successful account, has even a degree in it, but the higer-ups have very diffrent views. So everything has to be done 3 times till they found a compromise, so they are always 3 weeks behind trends, having to prove a trendy audio will give them engagement. God if he finds the person that put such a short leach on the marketing team, he will murder them. They work for a very old and traditional Cricket Club, emphasis on old some of the higher ups probaly where alive when the club was founded.

"Do you rember the teribel joke Mr. Henderson told last week? I need it for a post, asking people to share their own bad jokes for engagement bait." Rudy gives him do you really want to do this look. Nobody laughed about that joke, not even the old men at the top.

"Honestly my brain has a filter for his jokes so no." Roach groans dramatically, throwing his hands in the air, mumbling a I can't work like that. Bitting in the appel in frustration. Now he has to ask the man what will lead to him needing 20 minutes explaining how engagement on social media works and why it's so important. Already hearin Hendersons back in my day peopel listened over radio an we needed no silly dances on the internet, back in his day the steam maschie wasn't invented yet. Taking another bite from the appel, not liking its taste, the free fruits had better quality ones.

"Just tell him it's so good he needs to share is with the fans." Roach gives him a sceptical look, because that won't work right? It can't be that easy. Roach is ready to leave the office, when Rudy is winking him over. Rudy is curently frowning over an e-mail he got. He start reading it crossing his arms in front of his chest a cooperaton with another firm. Rudy is scrolling down to read the rest of the mail. Roach is resting his read on the back rest if Rudys chair looking over his right shoulder. Flying over the opening to were the mouse pointer is.

As i mentioned above I work at a for hire PR-Firm and are mainly know for work at Galas, Award cerominies and other red carpet events, but recently get the chance to work in other areas. We will mangaging the official Tiktok and Instagram for the hit TV show "The New Sherlock Holmes" for the up comming season and for the entiere UK and rest of Europe tour for a K-pop band. We would really love to work with your Tiktok and Instagram team to learn how they are making the short videos. We offer helping your Team for big gala events of the Club to get better resultes.

with warm regards

Valeria Graza

"Did she ask us for help and then insulted or work?", Roach is asking frowning. Finishing up the fruit.

"She sure did", Rudy say while forwarding the E-mail to their boss Kate Laswell, in the end its her choice and not theirs. Roach signs there is no more time to stall to get this stupid joke from Mr. Henderson.

"Better get the joke." He says before leaving the office to go to the elevators.

"Dont get stucked in the 1850s, while you there", Rudy is shouting after him. Rudy reads over the mail again, his eyes falling on to the name of the TV show, the chance for Roach to meet his celebrity crush, sometimes live is unfair.

[darth-mortem]

This is a second chapter of my COD fic "At the Crossroads of the Worlds" translated by @g8se.

Task force "141" was sent to clean up a secret laboratory, the research of which was financed by states recognized as sponsors of terrorism. The soldiers broke into a bunker located in the Caucasus Mountains on the Russian-Georgian border. At first, everything went according to plan, but after the fighters split up, Ghost came across a strange room, the door of which locked automatically the moment he was inside. Without knowing it, Simon Riley had set off an experiment that had been brewing here for years, and now he would have to be very strong to finally return home.

Chapter 2 of 6. 2431 words. You can read first chapter here.

Past character death, angst, action, secret lab, experiment, parallel worlds

August 15, 2016. Georgian-Russian border. Caucasus Mountains. Coordinates classified. Experiment status: Two hours after successful equipment launch. Experiment No. 16/3 successful. The object has been transported. Reality LW414/2016.

Captain Riley sat by the campfire, holding a cigarette between his fingers, trying to make sense of everything that had happened today. Next to him sat a young man in a balaclava with a skull print. Across from them were the two individuals they had met near the helicopter. The wounded soldier lay in a tent, bandaged and medicated with supplies from Ghost's first aid kit. The condition of this soldier was severe, but based on Riley's experience, he believed the man would survive and eventually return to duty.

Simon stared into the fire with a motionless gaze, but the moment when he leaped out of the helicopter still lingered in his mind.

The landing had been difficult. They were running out of fuel and Riley managed to land literally on its last drops. Opening the cargo compartment, he shut off the engine and unbuckled from his seat. People who had come to meet them were already nearby, and as Simon jumped out of the cabin, ready to help with the wounded, he suddenly saw who was approaching him.

The captain's eyes darkened instantly. His breath caught, and a piercing and unpleasant feeling stabbed him in the chest. He leaned heavily against the helicopter, feeling his legs giving way.

Before Simon there stood Johnny. He was older, had a scar over one eye, wore some outdated gear, but it was undeniably him, without any doubts.

“Hey, what's with you?” through the haze that filled Riley's eyes, the face of this Johnny appeared, and then strong hands grabbed him. “Are ye injured? Mate, look at me! Hey, who’s he, anyway?”

This was said somewhat to the side. The guy in the balaclava also approached, shifting his gaze from Simon to Johnny, and then shrugged.

“I thought you sent him,” he said and also peered into Captain Riley's face. “He got shot, but he's in armour, so he should be fine. Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Simon rasped, shook his head, and straightened up. “Solid.”

“Well, he's clearly not our enemy,” the third man intervened, who had managed to peek into the cargo compartment and was now standing a little further away. “So we'll talk later. We need to move Roach to our camp. Ghost, come on, help!”

“Yes, sir!” the guy in the balaclava and Captain Riley replied in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.

They all were soldiers, so, setting aside their amazement and confusion, they carried the wounded man to a small camp. The first aid kits of these four were half-empty and outdated, so Captain Riley pulled out his own. He used up all the haemostatic agents and stimulants, but he managed to stop the bleeding and stabilize the condition of the wounded man. They bandaged him and settled him in one of the two tents. After that, a soldier resembling Johnny lit a fire, and all four finally sat around, able to talk.

“Well, friend, let's get to know each other now,” said the man in the hat, lighting a cigare. “I'm Captain John Price. This is Captain John MacTavish and Lieutenant Simon Riley. The guy in the tent is Sergeant Gary Sanderson. And who are you?”

“I’m... Captain Simon Riley,” Ghost said, feeling his head starting to spin again. “Call sign - Ghost. I'm the commander of the Task Force 141.”

Now it was time for these three to exchange glances and lose their ability to speak. The guy in the balaclava froze, staring at Simon. Captain MacTavish coughed, choking on the smoke from his cigarette. Captain Price stared at Ghost for a few seconds, then spoke slowly:

“But we are the 141. And we don't know you.”

“But I know you,” Ghost replied and shook his head. “I mean, not you, but someone very much like you, and... I don't understand.”

“We too,” the lieutenant said. “I’m Ghost! Here are my dog tags!”

Captain Riley looked at his dog tags and pulled out his own. Two simple silver rings - wedding rings he had bought, planning to propose to his Johnny - hung on the same chain with them. He had hesitated for a long time, although he knew that Soap loved him, and then... then it was already too late.

Captain Riley's dog tags changed hands. All three examined them, and then Price handed them to the owner and rubbed at his temples.

“Okay,” he said in a completely bewildered tone. “Tell us how you ended up here. With all possible details.”

Simon lifted the edge of his mask, lit a cigarette, and deeply pondered, staring into the fire. They didn’t rush him, probably trying to make sense of everything on their own and maybe find some explanations. Lieutenant Riley, on the other hand, looked at him with wide-open eyes, mechanically rubbing his balaclava around his mouth, where Captain Riley had a scar that split his lips.

“On August 14, 2030, Major Price and I received data on a new mission for our 141,” Ghost finally spoke.

“What d’ye say?” MacTavish immediately interrupted him. “2030?! That's...”

“Son,” Captain Price put his hand on his shoulder, “let him tell everything. We'll ask questions later.”

“Okay,” Soap nodded, rubbed his temples, and looked at Captain Riley. “Sorry. Go on.”

“Intelligence uncovered an illegal laboratory funded by countries sponsoring terrorism,” Simon continued. “My unit was supposed to infiltrate the bunker where the lab was located, conduct clean-up, and find out what they were actually working on. We reached the destination on August 15. The combat groups of Major Price, Lieutenant Garrick, and Lieutenant Sanderson engaged with the facility's security. I went down to the lower level, took some scientists hostage, and then found myself in... probably the main lab. There was a strange room behind the sturdy airlock doors. I entered in, and the exit locked automatically. Then something started happening. Everything around electrified, there were sensors and indicators, a countdown, and then...”

Ghost paused, trying to recall the details, but they slipped from his memory, and he rubbed at his temples, furrowing his brow.

“Then I came to my senses where the bunker was, but on the surface,” he continued. “I saw... Lieutenant Riley and Sergeant Sanderson, General Shepard was about to kill them. The same Shepard that Price shot seven years ago, in 2023. Even then, I realized that something was off, but there was no time to hesitate, so...”

Captain Riley fell silent, glanced at Lieutenant Riley, and pulled out another cigarette from the pack. After a second of thought, he handed the pack to the other Ghost, who took it and lifted the edge of his balaclava. Simon saw that he had the exact same scar, splitting his lips.

“Ye mentioned Lieutenant Garrick,” MacTavish broke the silence. “Kyle “Gaz” Garrick?”

“Exactly,” Riley nodded.

The three soldiers exchanged glances again. Captain MacTavish started to look saddened. Captain Price shook his head.

“For a moment, I thought I was beginning to understand something,” he said, “but this fact changes everything. Captain, it's now August 15, 2016. There are no bunkers or labs here. We, 141, came here to find some information and clear our names. We've been set up, and now we're wanted. We trusted Shepard, but he was behind all of this.”

“And he would have killed me and Roach if you haven't showed up,” Lieutenant Riley added.

“I thought maybe you were from the future,” Price continued, “but our Gaz is dead. And we're at war here. With Russia.”

“What about me?” Captain MacTavish suddenly asked with interest. “Am I in yer unit?”

“Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish was killed by the Russian terrorist Makarov in 2023,” Ghost replied bluntly, then stood up. “I'm sorry.”

He walked away from the campfire, away from the tents, disappearing into the evening shadows. He didn't see Lieutenant Riley stretch and kick Captain MacTavish with his foot, giving him a meaningful look in the eyes. Price sighed heavily, tossed the stub of his cigarette into the fire, and also got up.

“Okay, Soap,” he said. “I think we could all use a little snack. Let's check our supplies and organize us some evening grub, and Ghost, go and bring Captain Riley back.”

The lieutenant nodded and went to where his... double had disappeared a few minutes earlier. Simon couldn't find answers to the question; he only understood that he was literally drawn to the other Riley. Therefore, he easily found him among the trees and rocks. The lieutenant moved silently, but the captain still heard him and turned his head, exhaling smoke from another cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” the lieutenant approached, but stopped at a distance, ready to leave if the older and clearly more massive Ghost said he was not allowed.

“Go ahead,” nevertheless, the captain replied in a broken and very tired voice.

The lieutenant came closer and sat down next to the fallen tree trunk. There was only one cigarette in his pack, and he sighed, lifted the edge of his balaclava, and lit it.

“You loved him, didn't you?” he asked quietly, unable to look at his double. “Johnny...”

“No,” Ghost shook his head. “I didn't love him. I still do, and that's my problem.”

“So those rings on your dog tags...” the lieutenant finally glanced at the captain, and he noticed that his eyes were suspiciously shining, as if from tears.

“Yes,” Riley nodded. “I dreamed of marrying him. Retiring together. Growing old together. That's why when I saw your MacTavish, I felt sick.”

The lieutenant fell silent, looking at the captain with wide-open eyes, and then impulsively moved forward and hugged him. Riley was stunned, but then cautiously placed his hand on the shoulders of his younger and much smaller double, bringing him closer. He didn't ask any questions about Captain MacTavish; he simply enjoyed moments of warmth and peace in this absolutely astounding and terrifying situation he found himself in.

“Shall we go back?” Lieutenant Riley suggested when they both finished their cigarettes. “The captains have probably cooked us food by now. You could use some dinner and rest.”

“Yeah, you're right,” the captain sighed, squeezed the shoulder of his younger double, and got up with difficulty. “And we need to check on your Roach too.”

When both Ghosts returned to the camp, Price and MacTavish were sitting by the fire, a pot was hanging over it. A familiar smell of field food wafted from the pot and Captain Riley even smiled a little under his mask, sitting back in his place.

“Simon,” MacTavish began, and both Ghosts looked at him. “Damn, we need tae come up with something so that ye two understand who we're talking tae.”

“Call me Ghost,” Captain Riley said. “Him – Simon. So what did you want to say?”

“Well, we talked with Price,” Soap paused, clearly unsure how to express his thoughts. “In short, it may sound strange, but maybe in tha’ lab ye were clearing, they were researching parallel worlds and ways to travel between ‘em? Yeah, I know it sounds like a comic book plot, but if we simplify it, this option seems the most true tae life.”

“Maybe,” Ghost replied, shrugging. “At least it’s some explanation.”

“Alright, boys,” Price interrupted. “None of us understand any of these things, so let's solve the problems step by step. Tomorrow morning, our pilot will arrive and take us to our temporary safehouse. I think, Ghost, you should come with us.”

“As you say, sir,” Captain Riley complied, lowering his head. “Probably, that's my only option.”

“Hey,” Lieutenant Riley sat down next to his older double and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can't even imagine what you're feeling, but let's try not to think about it right now. We all need to eat and rest, okay?”

“Yes,” Ghost looked gratefully at the younger Simon. “Yes, you're right.”

“Great,” MacTavish rubbed his hands together, then scooped a portion of porridge with canned meat onto an aluminium plate and handed it to Captain Riley. “Price ‘n’ I will take the first shift, so ye and Simon eat up and go tae sleep. We've already checked on Roach; he’s fine, as much as he can be in his condition.”

“Understood,” Ghost nodded, handing his plate to his younger double and taking the one MacTavish offered. “Thank you for all this. For believing.”

“We still don't know what to believe in,” Captain Price shook his head. “But you saved two soldiers from our task force and took down a traitor. So, we trust you. Now eat.”

Nodding, Simon took a folding spoon from his gear pocket and dove into his meal. Only now did he realize how hungry and tired he was. Finishing his portion, he immediately went to the other empty tent, not even waiting for his younger double. However, he quickly joined him. For a few minutes, they both fidgeted, trying to arrange themselves so that they were warm and comfortable. Finally, they froze, closing their eyes and diving into sleep. The older Simon embraced the younger one from behind, and he had no objections. Their equipment lay nearby, and Lieutenant Riley pressed his back against the chest of his muscular older counterpart, realizing that this warmth was much more comforting than the thin blanket they both covered themselves with.

“Simon?” the lieutenant called quietly, feeling the captain's hand on his heart.

“Mmm,” the older Ghost responded drowsily.

“I believe you,” continued the younger Ghost. “I don't know how to explain it, but I feel something common between you and me. You're different – so big, strong, and self-assured, but still...”

“Yes,” Ghost shifted, pressing the lieutenant closer to him. “I feel it too. Simon?”

“Yes?” the younger one tilted his head slightly to look at his older double.

“You may not be as big as I am, but I'm sure you're very strong too,” Captain Riley spoke and smiled, causing his eyes to narrow slightly in the openings of his mask. “Let's go to sleep.”

“Yes,” the lieutenant settled back down and relaxed, feeling absolute trust and peace toward this visitor from a parallel universe.

Captain Riley had the same scar that cut across the lips. Perhaps his other scars matched those of the lieutenant? Maybe in his world, he experienced the same horrors? Maybe he could understand Simon?

All of this troubled the young lieutenant, but drowsiness was stronger, and feeling the captain's steady heartbeat and his hand on his chest, he fell into such a peaceful sleep that he hadn't experienced since Shepard, the traitor, took him from the scorching fire of Manuel Roba’s base.

[krissneedsleep]

Hanahaki part 2

(Soap- Purple, Simon- Red, Gary- Blue, Makarov- green, Price- Pink, Kyle- Orange)

"You kill him, I'll kill you." Soap told the man behind Price's back.

"Oh Ivanka. You are better than these humans." Makarov turns the safety off. "Come with me instead."

Soap hung the phone back. He went away from the window, got to the stairs and got out of the building, Gun pointed at Makarov's back.

"Price, take your gun out." Soap told him now near them both.

Makarov raises his hands and dropped his gun while Price took his out and grabs the fallen weapon. 

"Give up Makarov." Price pointed both guns at him. "Call off everything and surrender."

"Never." He smiles as a gunshot was heard.

All Price felt before hitting the ground was a sharp pain in his back. Johnny shot a bullet into Makarov's shoulder while the man moved away.

Makarov ran. Johnny went to Price not giving two fucks about his dad.

"Price. Price stay with me!" He said holding the wound closed and turned him to his side. "You're going to be fine."

"G-get Nik." Price told him before passing out.

"Medic and Evac! Now!" He ordered in his comms. "Capt'n Price got hit!"

Johnny knew that they had to leave the street and hide from others. He wrapped up the bloody wound as best he could, got Price on his back and started walking to the safehouse they got in the forest away from the town.

Nickolai heard the call and started the engine. He called upon a friend, who's a medic to his location with shit that can deal with a bullet wound. Once the friend got there he flew them both to the town.

Roach, Gaz, Ghost and Laswell weren't able to hear any as they're in a dead zone.

"All packed up." Gaz informed them. "She'll be fine. For now." He looks up at them.

"... She need to go to a hospital." Ghost spoke, cleaning his hands with bottles of water.

"Hand me one." Gaz stretches his blood stained hand. Ghost gave him two and Roach took 2 to clean up the mess.

They heard outside solders searching for them 4. They came closer to the door they blocked. "Sargent Roach, Agent Laswell. This is Agent Bishop."

Non of them replied.

"Ivanka and Price are at the safehouse. Nik went to pick them up. I got Rose Trisha with me." Agent Bishop informed them.

Ghost recognizes Rose's name as Johnny spoke a lot about them. So he spoke. "Which town they're from?"

"Trisha is from Moscow. So is Johnny." Bishop replied.

"... That's true." Ghost muttered. "Got medic on standby?" He asks the Agent.

"We do. Now open this door and let us help you." Miss Bishop tells them.

"Ghost! We can't trust them!" Gaz whispered. " They could be from them."

"Gaz. You said it yourself that Laswell need to go to the hospital." Ghost replied "we need her alive."

Roach stood up, he walks towards the door and takes stuff away from it.

"B-bisho- Bishop?" Kate tries to speak. "Sh-she'-s w-with u-us."Gaz lifts Kate's head.

"No. No don't speak take it easy." Gaz tells her, " the medics here soon." Ghost left to help Roach.

Bishop got in with the medics who rushed to Laswell and help her onto the gurney.

"Half of the base is damaged and some of them are still here." Bishop informs them. "One of you can go with Kate."

"I'll stay." Roach tells them. "I haven't been on a mission for a while."

"Guess I'll go with laws." Gaz walked away with Kate to the transport to the hospital.

Ghost took Roach to the helipad leaving the taking over the base back to Agent Bishop.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Tunguska (4x08)

Rats are survivors. Natural born killers who do the work of destructors; by no means impervious, but they’ll attack the weak, anything that stands in their way. They adapt and survive.

Alex Krycek respects that. Maybe it’s why Mulder’s “insult” had felt like a compliment. 

Yeah, he’s learned to live like the rats. 

And yeah, Mulder. He’s had little trouble adapting. 

The relentless agent sits across from him now in this miserable cell, picking at the underside of his boot. Conversation doesn’t really work for them. They’ve been through enough shit together; you’d think he’s earned an iota of trust.

“So,” Alex ventures. “We gonna die here?”

Mulder glowers. “If we ever do get out, I’m gonna kill you myself, Krycek.”

Alex smirks. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Oh, no?”

“You’ve had a hundred opportunities. You haven’t taken any of them.”

Mulder’s eyes narrow. He says nothing. Spooky Mulder would never deny the truth.

They sit, the faint scratching of roaches and vermin echoing around the cell. Perhaps silence is preferable, but Alex can’t help himself. He wants the upper hand. He needs the upper hand. 

And he knows exactly how to get it.

“Whaddya think Scully’s up to?” he asks. Mulder’s eyes dart towards him, then away again. Here we go. As expected, Agent Scully is his trigger. Adapt, Alex. 

“Scully, Scully, Scully,” he purrs. “I remember when I met her. She could barely look at me. Like our partnership personally offended her.” He looks at Mulder, trying to make eye contact. “Most agents get a partner or two in their career. Maybe it works out, maybe it doesn’t. They move on. Not you two, though.”

His cellmate remains silent, but now wears  a searing glare. 

“We’re gonna die here anyway, Mulder, so you may as well confess. What’s she like, you know… in the sack? Carpet match the drapes?”

If looks could kill, Alex would be a dead man. He thrives off this, off making Mulder squirm. It’s just so fucking easy.

Sometimes he wonders how things would be if he’d just join forces with Mulder. He’s the obvious choice for an ally, morality-wise. But morality isn’t the medium with which Alex paints. He isn’t like Mulder. And anyway, there’s something he relishes more than his admiration of the man: the power Alex wields over him. 

Like right now.

Mulder clenches his jaw and looks away, unable to meet Alex’s eye. Once again, his honesty betrays him.

“Are you serious?” Alex’s eyes go wide. He was absolutely certain they were sleeping together. Talk about an X-File. “Shit. You two really had me fooled.”

His incredulity aside, this approach isn’t working. He needs to take a different route to get a rise out of Mulder. Something worse. 

“You know,” Alex says, lowering his voice. “Back when she was abducted, I suggested just… killing her.” Mulder bristles. “They underestimated your determination, but I never did. I warned them you’d never stop. They didn’t listen.”

A loud clang comes from somewhere in the gulag. A horrific scream. 

“Guess there’s still time,” Alex shrugs. “They don’t make the same mistake twice.”

That does it. Mulder lurches across the cell and wraps his hands around Alex’s neck for the second time today. There’s rage in his eyes, a primal savagery. And Alex likes it. He isn’t even sure why he does this, why he wants it. Maybe it’s the kind of thing he needs to feel alive. To feel like he isn't alone in the dark.

Like he does on occasion, he thinks of the missile silo. Mulder would probably like that story. But he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for talk. His arm is jammed beneath Alex’s chin, pinning him against the wall. He can feel his airway closing, but he knows it won’t last. Mulder will let him go. 

“Don’t ever say her name to me again,” Mulder seethes. For a wild moment it feels like they might kiss, and it’s not the first time he’s felt that way. There's an undeniable energy between them. Maybe it’s the knowledge there’s no one on the planet he hates more. Maybe Mulder’s passion is contagious. 

Maybe they’re both just animals.

As expected, Mulder lets him go with a ceaseless penetrating glare. Their little game is over for now; at least, until they play another one. 

They sit on opposite sides of the cell for hours until dinner is served. He and Mulder spit out the roach-infested soup in temporary camaraderie, but then a guard makes his way inside, and Alex takes his shot. He’s got one play left and he’s going to use it, no matter the cost.

The guard hesitates. Mulder asks for a translation, understandably concerned. Alex replies honestly: “That I want to see his supervisor.”

If he doesn’t want to see you, you’ll be accountable, the guard replies in Russian. He appears taken aback, unaccustomed to a prisoner's authoritative tone. 

I’ll be accountable, Alex insists. Mulder dumbly looks back and forth between them. 

The guard acquiesces, and opens the door. Freedom lies ahead if he can play this correctly, if he can just find one more dark pipeline to squeeze through. Maybe he’ll get out of this shithole alive after all. 

He’s brought before the head honcho and sings like a canary. The Americans are working on their own vaccine; he’s even got the name of the head doctor. He mentions an old comrade, Vasily Peskow. That gets their attention. 

Alex Krycek has been no stranger to loyalty. But as he betrays the country he genuinely loves, he realizes the truth: his loyalty is only to himself. 

As he’s escorted from the gulag, he’s taken past Mulder’s cell again. He peers inside where his adversary awaits whatever fate Alex’s defection has unleashed. There’s a slight twinge of regret inside him, but it quickly passes. 

He steps outside as the chilled air of Tunguska slaps him in the face. Beneath him, a rat scampers by, disappearing into the woodwork.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own

@admiralty-xfd

[cookinary]

Hey guys, if you want some music

I've been putting together a playlist of what my AUs' themes would be

I'll be making a list under the cut of which song matches which AU (so don't check it out if you wanna figure it out for yourself!)

Da OG boi: Banana Man - Tally Hall

Android: Robot Rock - Daft Punk

Backrooms: H A L L S - CG5

Basically Villain: Gangsta's Paradise - Coolio

Beyblade: Beyblade Metal Fusion French opening

Brothers in Arms: Turn the Lights Off - Tally Hall

Cartoon: Duck Sauce - Barbra Streisand

Clone: I think I'm a clone now - Weird Al

Cyberpunk: Organic Self - Noisecream

Demon Banana: Demons - Imagine Dragons / Phoenix - ft.Cailin Russo and Chrissy Costanza

Dragon Pilot: Dragon Pilot Hisone to Masotan outro

Escaped Experiment: Monster - dodie

Explosive Personality: MINECRAFT CREEPER RAP - Dan Bull

Ghost: Ghost - Confetti

Godhunter: Godhunter - Aviators

Honey I shrunk the kid: So What - Three Days Grace

It's just a game: Losing My Mind - Mystery Skulls

Mad Guy Dead: MAD RAT HEART from the Mad Rat Dead OST

Mad Switch: Fuck You - Lily Allen

Magic: Dementia - Owl City ft. Mark Hoppus / ROACHES - Luluyam (I picked these songs because Mage is psychotic because of everything he went through)

Mountains: Les bronzés font du ski

Murder Drones: Disassembly Required - Liam Vickers

Mutant: Captive Normal from the Hi-Fi Rush OST (PLEASE CHECK THIS GAME OUT) / I'm My Own Master Now (Platinum Mix) from the Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance OST

Nyankees: meow - lvusm

Pacific Rim: Pacific Rim main theme

Phoenix: Phoenix - Netrum & Halvorsen

Pokemon: The Journey Starts Today - Walk off the Earth

Portal: Who I am - CG5

Post-Apocalypse: Survive - SOARA / Wasteland Outlaw - MAJESTY

Radioactive: Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

Reaper: The Man Comes Around - Johnny Cash

Sailing Seas: The Seven Seas - F-777

Sea Monster: Ocean Man - Ween

Simulation Collapsing: ECHO [Cover] - Alfakyun

Space: Starman - David Bowie

Spare: I Can't Decide - Scissors Sisters

Supers: Speed of Light - Joe Satriani

Swap: Sweet About Me - Gabrielle Cilmi

Tanuki: Heisei era Tanuki War (Spirited Season) from the Pompoko OST

Therianthropy: Wild Slide - Jules Gaia / T-Rex - K.Flay

Time Agent: This Time - PXL

Time God: Temporal Tower from the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Sky OST

Time Loop: Stuck in a Timeloop - Animadrop

Totally Spies: Here We Go - Totally Spies season 1 opening

Turning Red: Pandas Unite/Nobody Like U from the Turning Red OST

Unaware Eldritch God: God - Jake Daniels

Untitled Friend Game: Goose Goose Revolution - TheLivingTombstone

Werewolf: Animal In Me - Solence

Witch Vampire: Happy Halloween Rap ver. - nqrse

Zombie: Macabre Rotting Girl - Kathy-Chan / Stay Alive - FFM ft. Felix Bushe / INFECTED - STARSET

Junkyard King: Junkyard King - Navie D

Rookie Mistake (AU where my sona is present): Idontgivea***k - Rabbit Junk

And EMPIRES by Electric Swing Circus isn't for an AU but I thought it was a good fit for vanilla Ophelia

[muldermuse]

what about jealousy the other way around? like Fox getting close to someone they're working a case with (kinda like the roach episode) I love your fics by the way!!!!

Thank you so much for sending this through!!!! I went a different way with it but I hope you like it my love <3 <3 <3

I wrote this really quickly so it is def not 100% but pls allow it - it was fun to write. Reader and Mulder are in an established relationship in this fic!

If you have a fic idea, or hc, or Fox thoughts (or thots) pls send them through!!

Fox’s new case has introduced you to a new colleague, a woman who you’ve watched from afar before, Agent Brenda Wilson. There’s something about her you are unsure of, call it intuition or call it your ability to overthink most things in your life. Around the building, day to day, you never really see her. You don’t say hi if you do, you don’t know her and she doesn’t know you. You’re sure she’s never noticed you and you hope that she never does. That is, until, Scully gets assigned to a case that takes her away and Agent Wilson has to step in for additional support for the X Files. Mulder is trying to keep on Skinner’s good side so despite being certain that he does not need a glorified babysitter; he stays quiet about Wilson's brief transfer to the basement.

Each day this week when you’ve gone down to drop off his post-lunch coffee, she’s been there, perched on his desk. She eyes you as soon as you enter the artificially lit room and you feel tiny. It's as if she's a predator and your prey, innocently meandering into the Lion's den with a Starbucks for you and your boyfriend. You try and swallow down whatever disgusting jealous feeling is rising in your throat as you slide his coffee across the desk to him.

Apart from stilted greetings, she never really speaks to you but she must know about you and Fox; that’s what you reason. There’s nothing malicious happening, especially on the side of Fox, who has told you at length how there is no one else for him but you.

“You know, Agent” she maintains her eye contact with you for longer than she ever has, “I’m starting to feel a bit left out! You never bring a coffee down for me. I have to watch this guy drink his coffee and there’s nothing for me.” Her giggle fills the room which is otherwise full of awkward energy.

“This guy,” she reaches her hand across the desk to touch Fox’s clenched fist, “always offers to go and get me one in the morning. Isn’t he a sweetheart?”. You swear you see the dark glint cross her eyes, you swear you see her eyebrow cock slightly and you swear; you see red.

“Actually, I just came to steal this sweetheart from you for 2 minutes. Fox- I need to speak to you outside” You chirp, trying to stop yourself from physically shaking from pure anger and adrenaline. Fox knows the smile plastered across your face is fake, he has to bite his cheek from the inside to stop himself outwardly laughing. He nods politely at Wilson as he walks over to you, just before you both leave her sight; you interlink his hand with yours.

“Kiss me”

Before he gets chance to speak, you push your lips against his and your tongue runs against his lower lip. He opens his mouth languidly as your noses bump against each other. Your hands slide down his back as his move up to your face to hold it. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, you feel hazy from the touch of his lips, the taste of his tongue, and the feel of his strong hands holding your hips. As he pulls away, you move to press tender kisses to his neck; he stifles a moan at the contact. 

“You better not be jealous of her”. You feel his nails begin to dig into your hips, “she’s nothing compared to you.” He brings his face close to yours, a quick peck to your lips, and smiles as he takes in your dazed eyes. He loves kissing you, it's as if you get drunk off the feeling of his lips and he always wants more.

“I’ll show you tonight, okay?” You nod as you listen to him, attempting to wipe your gloss off his lips with your fingers, “I think I need to remind you how much I love you.” He holds your hand as he presses your fingers to his lips, “I’ll spend all night proving it if I have to”.

[wtfgaylittlezooid]

AAAAAAAAAH I absolutely loved your Bug!Vicagent tidbit!!!

... did Vic hear Agent, in the end?? Bc it would be so cute yet angsty if Vic did hear him and that his voice and promise was something that helped Vic

But that's just me musing lol

TYY!!!! I think about this little plot way too fucking much

Vic also doesn’t because at that point he’s completely gone. Only thing left was fungus instinct. He does know how much Agent cares though, since throughout that battle his sense of self does slip in a few times, though he only takes advantage of that to order Agent to just kill him at that point. Agent ain’t doing that tho because he needs Victim. That’s why Agent apologizes for not following Victims orders lol

Fun fact about zombie Victim: very good way to gauge how much time he has left is by listening to what he’s saying. He does NOT shut up once he is constantly talking during the entire fight, usually just mumbling/droning to himself without though. If he’s talking about magic or getting you to leave that’s the instinct talking. If he’s talking about control or whatever vic tends to talk about, then it’s still pulling snippets from his memories which means he’s there just buried. and if it’s nothing but gibberish aka the roach language for a prolonged amount of time then he’s gone 👍

[film-bro-hotch]

Queen of Nothing (Hotch x Reader) – Chapter One

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a Hotch fic, but I am super excited to see how this one goes! I’ll probably keep this up just for my own satisfaction, but I am a full-time college student, so updates will be slow. Also chapter names are probably going to be from songs/poems, so feel free to give them a listen or read. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Warnings: murder (mostly alluded to, no details)

WC: 1.7k

Synopsis: Reader is an ex-BAU agent. There was only so much work profiling could do, and it was something you and your boss, Aaron Hotchner, seemed to clash over. So you decided to take justice into your own hands, hunting down those who had evaded justice. You have been traveling around the country for the last 5 years serving your own form of justice, that is until you end up back in northern Virginia. You run into your old boss and ex-boyfriend, Aaron. He invites you to dinner, and you can’t say no, but you also can’t stop the work you’ve been doing for the past 5 years. You were a profiler, you can evade the FBI, right? Anything for love.

“Rats and roaches live by competition under the laws of supply and demand; it is the privilege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy.” ― Wendell Berry

You think he knew that day you left the BAU that you wouldn’t be back. You only had a few things from your desk, it was only supposed to be temporary. You remember the look on his face when you set that request for leave on his desk. The two of you had been arguing a lot more lately, about your relationship, about your differences in opinion at work. You told him it was getting harder watching some of these unsubs go because they didn’t have enough evidence for a court, but you knew they were guilty. Aaron had told you that sometimes that happened, that you would get used to it, that you hadn’t been working in the field long enough. So you requested leave, two weeks, and agreed to a psych eval upon your return. 

“I just need a little air between me and the BAU,” you had said in his office.

He swiftly signed the paper. “Enjoy your two weeks, Agent L/N.” His words were dry like normal, but you could see the hint of pain in his eyes, the little extra crease at the end of his brow and the way it tilted up just a little more than usual.

Part of you wished he called for you as you left his office. The other part didn’t let you feel a thing as you walked through the door, gave simple half goodbyes, the ones you give to a friend after hanging out but are sure to see them again. Hotch was right. You never came back to the BAU. 

No, now you were in the middle of nowhere town on the coast somewhere between Louisiana and Mississippi and a little too close to New Orleans. You usually brought your justice to larger cities if you could. With so many people coming in and out, no one was sure to notice you as you didn’t stay anywhere for long. You never killed in the same place twice. At least not for a long while. You had to stop in the little halfway town to get some rest before making the drive to your next destination - which you still had to figure out.

You had burned your clothes an hour before, scattered the ashes into the bay. The man you had brought to justice was a little messier than you would normally go for, but he was much more aggressive than the men you usually take care of. This one required a sawed-off shotgun. Untraceable, but blood managed to get on your clothes, and you would rather not risk it, so you burned a pair of jeans you really didn’t want to get rid of. 

In that motel bathroom, you scrubbed your fingernails with a small toothbrush, a part of paranoia making you do so even though you had worn gloves. You tried not to look up at the mirror, see just how tired you were. You didn’t like the way you looked after a crime. You hated to even consider it a crime. You were doing more than you had ever gotten done at the BAU. Justice the legal system couldn’t provide.

You scrubbed until the hot water ran out, splashing your face in hopes to wake yourself up a bit. You still had to decide where to go next. One more rub of the face, a deep breath, and you left the bathroom, only sparing yourself a partial glance. 

To ensure that your destinations were truly random, truly untraceable, you let dice decide. One triangular die with four points would determine the first number of the latitude while a ten-sided die would determine the second number for the latitude. Longitude would be determined by a twenty-sided die and another ten-sided die. The numbers would hopefully keep you in the parameters of the United States, though if you needed to, you would reroll.

The crumpled map you tore out of an atlas was scribbled with red, places you had already been and tried to stay away from, but you didn’t want to influence the roll too much. Somehow someone like Reid would find a connection if you didn’t keep it completely randomly generated. Pulling the dice out of your bag, you gave them a quick kiss and rolled the first set. 

3 and 9.

So 39N. The line that seemed to run right through the middle of the country. You could end up anywhere. “Let’s hope west coast. This humidity is a bitch,” you mutter. You gently pick up the other two, rolling them in your hand for just a moment before letting them fall onto the map in front of you.

7 and 7.

77 W. You trace your finger along the lines on the map and feel your chest constrict as they meet. Fairfax, Virginia. Too close to Quantico. Too close to D.C. Too close to all those people you left behind. In all 5 years of this, you hadn’t even landed in Virginia. And now you were to go into the belly of the beast. 

What are you even afraid of? So many of your coworkers could have moved on, gone to different departments, you thought. Maybe they don’t even live in Fairfax. Besides, you’ll be out of there in no time if you stay focused and don’t do anything stupid.

You grabbed the dice from the map, shoving them back into your backpack and haphazardly folding it. It seems you had a long drive ahead of you, and you were going to need to get some sleep so you didn’t psych yourself out on the drive. It’s what the dice said, so it will be fine, you kept repeating to yourself as you pleaded for sleep to take you.

--

            Most of the drive was coming up with ways that made you feel only slightly better about the move. You knew the area decently well considering you had lived there for some time, but not well enough to be considered a local if any authorities began to suspect you. Even if they did, you hadn’t lived in the area for five years. As far as anyone knew, you didn’t live there anymore. The more you thought about it, the more confident you felt. You couldn’t do your job worrying about little things.

            Once you reached Fairfax County, you found the cheapest motel you could, the one that probably looked the most rundown and maybe wasn’t the safest, but that’s why you were there. In your experience, the people who ran these didn’t ask questions. 

            There was a woman behind the counter, blonde curly hair that was more frizz than curl. She had a stocky build and wore an old shirt from some county fair. In one hand she had a lit cigarette, the other held some cheap tabloid. She didn’t look up when you entered, though she undoubtedly heard the bell at the door.

            “Any vacancies?”

            She didn’t look up at you, but she did put the tabloid and look at what seemed to be an old appointment book. “How long?” she asked in a voice that made it clear she had been smoking for years. 

            “Two weeks,” you settle with, pulling cash out of your bag to pay. She seemed to raise a brow for just a moment, but took it without another word, handing you the keys to one of the rooms. 

            “Room 8, outside and to your left. Checkout is at 11:00,” she says, scribbling your stay down in the book, not asking for a name before going back to her tabloid. 

            Like you figured, the room was run down and shitty, but it would help you keep a low profile. It smelled like cigarette smoke the moment you walked in, but the sheets seemed relatively clean, so you would take what you could get. There was no television, but you had grown accustomed to living without one. Doing your routine checks of the place, you gave yourself just a moment to relax. 

            It was then that you realized not only just how late it was, but how hungry you were. You didn’t make many stops on the way for food, only when you needed more gas. Most places you stayed didn’t have a minifridge or anything, but you usually kept a cooler in the car so you could have some meat and cheese for sandwiches. Not the best, but you got by well enough. That seemed to be the theme for your life the past five years. So like every usual move, you were tired after the drive but reluctantly got up and drove to the nearest grocery store to grab just the necessities. 

            By that time in the night, it was a little after 10:00, and there was hardly anyone else in the place besides the few workers that seemed to mill about. The fluorescent lights made your eyes ache a little, but that could also be due to straining them driving all day. You were trying to be quick, just wanting some food so you could go to bed. You had to be well rested to start your research for the next case.

You had grabbed what looked to be the cheapest bread and was around the corner when your cart hit something else metal, a loud metallic sound rang in your ears a bit. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. You must have been a lot more tired than you originally thought if you clipped the shelf.

            “Y/N?”

            Oh. You didn’t hit the shelf taking a turn a little too sharp. You hit another cart, and you would have apologized if you hadn’t known that voice. That fucking voice that still hunted you every now and again and you prayed would go away. You hoped that this instance was one of those hauntings, that you hadn’t spent the past 16 hours in a car driving back to the place you fled. You would wake up in that little town outside of New Orleans and your dice would roll something else. But you weren’t that lucky.

            You could never be that lucky because the person standing in front of you was the last person from the BAU you ever saw. Right in front of you was Aaron Hotchner.

Chapter Two