#six likes to write all over arcade’s notes. he won’t write on top of them cus he doesn’t wanna actually mess them up-

[archersartcorner]

REPORT START.

DATE: January 21, 2282

COURSER UNIT: Q3-31

Dr. [INSERT ACTING HEAD OF SRB HERE.],

Exploring the ruins of Las Vegas (currently called “New Vegas”) and the surrounding Mojave Desert, I was able to find evidence of the missing synth, V4-16. Included in this report is a medical file made on his behalf by the “Followers of the Apocalypse.” The doctor under his supervision, a man named Arcade Gannon, appears to have taken on a paternal role towards V4-16, and assumes he originated from a Vault due to his lack of scarring. V4-16 seems to have no recollection of his time in the Institute, and has amassed an impressive amount of power in the short time he has been away. For some reason, recalling does not seem to work - the recall component in his brain was either damaged, or removed. I was under immediate suspicion by Dr. Gannon during my attempt to reclaim him, and upon the reclamation not working, I was simply stared at, and asked, “What is wrong with you?” I retreated immediately and requested to be recalled back.

REPORT END.

Additional Notes: We’ll keep an eye on V4-16 for now. Having an influence as far as the Mojave, while we may be unable to directly control it, is still beneficial. Under no circumstances should Bela be made aware of V4-16’s survival - simply maintain the truth that it’s chip has been offline since October.

- Dr. Ayo

—

Made a similar thing to this a while ago here, and wanted to make another version, with some additional context ;-)

And a bonus:

[river-bottom-nightmare]

I am incapable of writing ANYTHING BUT ANGST. but really this is all elle’s fault, she asked for the fic, I provided. it’s under the cut, have fun with it. it’s on ao3 here.

tag list: @anothertimdrakestan @comicsandhoney @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @astroherogirl @birdy-bat-writes @thebatsandbirdsofgotham​ @subtleappreciation​

Tim had never been afraid of his mind. His ruthlessness was sharper than blade and his detective skills were keener than a bullet. He wasn’t some sort of super-genius, but he didn’t have to be. He was enough.

Sure, sometimes the wide, disbelieving eyes of his teammates made him a bit uncomfortable. But at the end of the day, he was keeping them safe, wasn’t he? Their comfort was a small price for their lives.

And now? Now he was damn grateful.  

“Cloning attempt forty-five unsuccessful. Samples discarded.” The cool voice cut through the greenish-gloom, cold and mechanical. At times, Tim wished the voice held at least an ounce of warmth. He’d take any bit he could get, and wrap it around himself like a tattered blanket, just willing it to do its job and keep him safe. Other times, Tim was glad the robotic voice was frigid, impersonal. He couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t break down at the first sign of kindness.

“Diagnostic,” Tim said, bent over a computer.

“Protein link breakdown at twenty-three hours and thirty-seven minutes. Full destruction at twenty-four hours and twenty-eight minutes.”

“Solutions?”

“Suggested stabilizer: trehalose.”

“Run it, next trial.”

“Cloning attempt forty-six initiated.”

                                                      _________

“Tim, come on! Cut me some slack!” Kon was trying to pout, but one look at Tim’s raised eyebrows caused him to double over laughing. “It’s not fair!”

“It’s totally fair. You just suck at this.” Tim was straightened up from Street Fighter II, arching his back like a pleased cat.

“You’re not supposed to use your superhero name on this,” Kon said, looking at the blinking line of text that said Robin at the top of all the scores.

Tim scoffed. “Why don’t you say that a little louder, Superboy? ” Kon’s own name was fourth, blinking a little less vibrantly.

“Whatever. I’m hungry,” Kon announced.

“Oh, so now you’re hungry? After losing for the billionth time, you finally want to get some food- hey! ” Tim let out a choked gasp as Kon grabbed him under his elbow, ruffling his head roughly.

“Perfect timing, huh?”

Tim could hear the laughter in Kon’s voice, so he elbowed Kon in the gut, roughly. “Mhmm, it really is.”

“I’m dying, Tim. Dying. You killed me.” Kon was still bent over, arm over his stomach.

Tim grabbed Kon’s other hand and laced their fingers together, thinking nothing of it, tugging to get Kon walking to the food court. “Yeah yeah, complain about it to Cassie. C’mon, I want nacho fries.”

Instead of responding with a laugh and a jibe about Tim’s taste, Kon just started coughing. And coughing and coughing and coughing before he was on the ground.

Suddenly, they weren’t in the arcade anymore. It was a field, calm and peaceful and quiet and Tim was about to throw up because he knew this field.

Kon was lying ahead, staring listlessly to the side with dead eyes.

“No, no no no no, ” Tim rushed over to him, too late, always too late. But the field kept stretching out longer and longer, and Tim couldn’t reach Kon. He made one desperate leap for him, and hit the ground hard.

There was blood all over his hands, Kon’s blood. Seeping into his skin until his fingers had turned dark crimson, spreading down to his palms, his wrists, his arms. He scrubbed at the colour desperately, trying to get it off. Itching and scratching and God why won’t the blood just go away.

Tim let out a desperate, wordless shriek, and the world tilted, turning on its axis and throwing Tim into the air. He woke up gasping, fresh tear tracks on his face.

                                                     _________

Tim was sitting in a rolling chair in front of his computer, cross-legged. His eyes were drooping, but he forced them open. He’d caught a lead in his search for Bruce, somewhere in north Chile. He’d take a week, poke around, then come back here.

Sighing, he turned his chair, back still bent in an awful crouch. There was a glass case right next to him, a black and red T-shirt displayed proudly. He had a couple, but they were all back in his room at the manor. This specific one was the softest, and his favourite. But he couldn’t bring himself to take it out of the case, bundle it up in his arms, and bring it close to himself like he so desperately wanted to. Taking it out of the case made it real.

“Cloning attempt sixty-two unsuccessful.”

Tim let out a near-uncontrollable cry, swinging his arms out wildly in a rare fit of anger. His fist flew towards the computer, and he managed to direct the hit to the wall next to it. The sting of pain brought him back to his senses, and he stared down at his hand, shocked.

Taking in a deep breath, he shook his hand out and shoved his hands through his hair, ignoring the flashing Trial Failed sign on the screen.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. He always knew that he’d lose Kon eventually. Everyone he knew, everyone he loved always left him, voluntarily or not. He didn’t know why he played a losing game.

You know why, his brain told him. You’re selfish. So, so selfish. You just a part of him for as long as he could give it. But it was never going to be enough.

“No,” Tim said aloud to the empty room. “He’s not gone, he’s not .”

“Unknown command,” the automated voice system responded.

Tim held back another fit of rage, then bit out, “Diagnostic.”

“DNA synthesis failure at forty-eight minutes. DNA structural collapse at fifty-nine minutes.”

“Solutions?”

“Retry experiment. New strand of DNA recommended.”

“Run it.”

“Cloning attempt sixty-three initiated.”

                                                     _________

“Tim, come on! Cut me some slack!” Kon was trying to pout, but one look at Tim’s raised eyebrows caused him to double over laughing. “It’s not fair!”

“It’s totally fair. You just suck at this.” Tim was straightened up from Street Fighter II, arching his back like a pleased cat.

“You’re not supposed to use your superhero name on this,” Kon said, looking at the blinking line of text that said Robin at the top of all the scores.

Tim scoffed. “Why don’t you say that a little louder, Superboy? ” Kon’s own name was fourth, blinking a little less vibrantly.

“Whatever. I’m hungry,” Kon announced.

“Oh, so now you’re hungry? After losing for the billionth time, you finally want to get some food- hey! ” Tim let out a choked gasp as Kon grabbed him under his elbow, ruffling his head roughly.

“Perfect timing, huh?”

Tim could hear the laughter in Kon’s voice, so he elbowed Kon in the gut, roughly. “Mhmm, it really is.”

“I’m dying, Tim. Dying. You killed me.” Kon was still bent over, arm over his stomach.

Tim grabbed Kon’s other hand and laced their fingers together, thinking nothing of it, tugging Kon to get him walking to the food court. “Yeah yeah, complain about it to Cassie. C’mon, I want nacho fries.”

“No,” Kon was straightening up now, shoving Tim away.

“Kon?” Tim asked, a little confused and a little hurt.

“You killed me. You killed me.” There was a venom in his voice that Tim had rarely ever heard, and never directed at him.

“I, I didn’t mean to,” Tim was stumbling back now, wide eyed, as Kon advanced on him.

“Yes you did. You know what happens to people you loved, and you loved me anyway.”

Tim shook his head desperately. “I never said I loved you.”

Kon’s laugh was humorless. “You never had to. I knew. You really thought you could hide this from me?”

Kon was backing him against a wall now, arms on either side, effectively trapping him. Tim could get out, of course he could. But he couldn’t make his feet move, no matter how hard he tried.

“Don’t, please don’t,” Tim begged when Kon leaned closer. “Kon wouldn’t, not if I didn’t want to.”

This Conner, one with a cruel, angry glint in his eyes, tipped Tim’s chin up with his finger. “Well it’s a good thing I’m not your Kon then, isn’t it?” His lips were brushing Tim’s now. “Besides, you always had a penchant for torturing yourself.”

Then Kon was devouring Tim’s mouth, and it was everything Tim had ever wanted, and everything Tim hated. Kon was possessive, passionate, biting his lips with a hunger that took Tim by surprise before licking into his mouth hungrily. His fingers were gripping Tim’s jaw, rough and firm, tilting his head to get a better angle. Tim had melted into it, letting Kon take and take and take.

It was wrong. It was all wrong.

Because Kon would have been gentle. He would have cradled Tim’s face in his fingers like he was something precious. His first kiss would have been tentative but sure, letting Tim know much he meant to him. He would have pulled back and smiled at the wonder in Tim’s eyes before ducking down to give him another soft kiss, chaste and oh-so-loving.

Kon had just drawn back to sink his teeth into Tim’s collarbone when Tim woke up with a sob, out of breath and heaving.

He fell out of bed and ran towards the main room, ignoring the flashing light that noted the progress of the latest cloning attempt. He kept running and running until he reached the glass case, where he brought his fist back and slammed it into the glass as hard as he could.

It didn’t even crack. Of course it didn’t, it was reinforced. Tim threw another couple of punches, before spotting a spare piece of piping lying on the ground. He grabbed it and swung, with every mite of strength left in his body, and crashed it into the case.

The glass splintered. He hit it again and again, until shards rained down around Tim, leaving small cuts in his wake. He grabbed the T-shirt, yanking it out of its stand and bringing it close to him, hugging it the way he’d wanted to for so long.

Tim bent over the ground, letting his tears seep into the fabric.

He wanted everyone back. His parents, Steph, Bart, Bruce, Kon. He wanted them all back.

“I’m close,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the T-shirt. “I swear it, I’m close.” He didn’t know if he was talking about finding Bruce or cloning something close enough to Kon. One of them would happen, and it would be enough. He’d stop losing at this rigged puzzle that was his life, he’d stop trying to play this losing game, and it would be enough.

                                                     _________

“Cloning attempt eighty-nine unsuccessful.”

Tim was wearing the Superboy T-shirt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten out of it. His fingers played along the hem, twitching. His attention darted around from one screen to the next, taking in a map of Norway one second, and reading over the cloning file in the next.

“Diagnosis?” He prided himself on how steady his voice sounded.

“Proteins from Subject: Lex Luthor failed to fully integrate into Subject: Clark Kent, Kal-el. Possible problem: invulnerability of kryptonian genes.”

“Solution?”

“Kryptonite injections suggested.”

“Do it. Run it.”

Tim’s own voice had become as robotic as the computers. It was hoarse, raspy. He’d forgotten the last time he’d truly spoken, barring instructions to the computer and the cries torn from his throat in the middle of a night. Concerned messages from Dick sat unread on his phone.

“Just, run it again. Run it again, try again.”

“Cloning attempt ninety initiated.”

                                                     _________

“Tim, come on! Cut me some slack!” Kon was trying to pout, but one look at Tim’s raised eyebrows caused him to double over laughing. “It’s not fair!”

“It’s totally fair. You just suck at this.” Tim was straightened up from Street Fighter II, arching his back like a pleased cat.

“You’re not supposed to use your superhero name on this,” Kon said, looking at the blinking line of text that said Robin at the top of all the scores.

Tim scoffed. “Why don’t you say that a little louder, Superboy? ” Kon’s own name was fourth, blinking a little less vibrantly.

“Whatever. I’m hungry,” Kon announced.

“Oh, so now you’re hungry? After losing for the billionth time, you finally want to get some food- hey! ” Tim let out a choked gasp as Kon grabbed him under his elbow, ruffling his head roughly.

“Perfect timing, huh?”

Tim could hear the laughter in Kon’s voice, so he elbowed Kon in the gut, roughly. “Mhmm, it really is.”

“I’m dying, Tim. Dying. You killed me.” Kon was still bent over, arm over his stomach.

Tim grabbed Kon’s other hand and laced their fingers together, thinking nothing of it, tugging to get Kon walking to the food court. “Yeah yeah, complain about it to Cassie. C’mon, I want nacho fries.”

“Wait,” Kon’s fingers tightened around his own.

“What?”

“You don’t need food right now, do you?” Kon tugged him towards a corner, partially hidden by a column and an arcade game.

“I sure would like some,” Tim raised his eyebrows.

In response, Kon let out a chuckle, small but warm, the edges of his eyes crinkling in the way that made people fawn over Superman but made Tim fall even further and further in love with Kon.

“Well yes I know that, but I was just wondering...”

“Wondering what?”

Kon bit his lips before catching Tim’s eyes. “Maybe you’d like to taste something else?”

Tim stared at him for a second, stunned silence between them, before collapsing into laughter. “ Kon, oh my god!”

Tim looked up to see lips turned out in an adorable little pout. “What! I’m being serious, and it was a good line.”

“It most certainly was not a good line.”

“Cut me some slack here, Tim.”

“You mean like at Street Fighter? The way I cut you slack then?”

“Oh shut up. You cheat. I don’t know how you do, but you cheat .”

And suddenly Tim found himself in Kon’s arms, leaning into the taller boy. Kon tightened his grip around Tim, fingers finding Tim’s waist, and cradling him gently.

“It may have been a terrible line,” Tim smiled up at Kon, “but it worked.”

He leaned forward, placing a kiss to Kon’s lips, delicate but not at all fragile. Kon looked awestruck for a minute, before swooping back down and capturing Tim’s lips again. Passive at first, Tim soon pressed back, letting the push-pull rhythm come naturally. They slowed down, came to a stop while resting their foreheads against each other, Kon bent over and Tim on his tip-toes and arched back, but not uncomfortable at all.

“Okay but did my line actually work?” Kon asked against Tim’s lips, biting his own nervously. “Can I do this again? Because I’d really like to do this again.”

Laughter bubbled out of Tim, easy as breathing, and he pulled back to catch the other boy’s eyes. “Yes. We can do this again. But nacho fries first. Food, then kisses.”

Kon nodded. “Food, then kisses.”

Tim blinked awake, still curled up under the thin covers and swallowed by the pillows. This time, he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes, and he let them fall. “Take me back,” he wasn't sure if he said that aloud, but then again, there was no one there to hear it. “I want to go back.”

He squeezed his eyes shut in vain, trying to will himself back to sleep. Then, he remembered the little bottle sitting in the bathroom, sleeping pills Dick had given him once that he refused to use. He threw the covers back and found the thing resting on the sink. He tore it open and shook one, two, three, four pills into his hands. Tipping his head back, he swallowed them dry, then stumbled back into bed.

“The arcade,” he said to himself, burying his limbs under that T-shirt that still somehow smelled like Kon. “We were at the arcade.”

                                                     _________

“Cloning attempt ninety-seven unsuccessful.”

“Diagnostic.”

“Protein failure in link-”

“You know what? No. Forget it. I don’t want to know. Just run it again.”

“Suggested solution-”

“I don’t care! I don’t care, just try. Again.”

“Cloning attempt ninety-eight initiated.”

[l0vesickfangirl-blog]

Astral Land

Rating: G

Pairing: Promptis, undertones of Gladnis cause I can’t help myself

Summary: Noctis takes Prompto to astral Land for the first time, and the way Prompto’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store makes Noctis’ heart feel so warm.

Note: I know the word limit was like, 550 but I don’t write short fics well so heres this

Read On Ao3

For 4ssassin4hire

(It won’t let me tag :( )

#ffxvsmallsecretsanta

Noctis remembers Prompto saying he’d never been to Astral Land, a huge amusement park right on the edge of Insomnia that was themed all around the Six. Noctis was in disbelief, how had he NOT gone to Astral Land? Didn’t he go on the field trip back in grade school?

Noctis had full intentions to change this. So, upon much pestering to Ignis, who then had to get permission from the king, Noctis got the okay to take his blonde friend to the amusement park for the day, along with his advisor and shield who were told they could enjoy the festivities as well, so long as they kept close and kept an eye on Noctis.

Gladio seemed thrilled, Ignis not so much.

So here they were, standing in the center square of the huge park. Noctis grinned as he saw Prompto’s eyes seem to light up as they scanned the park.

“I’ve downloaded the map for the park on your Phone, Noctis.” Ignis noted, his own phone in his hand. “Do be careful not to get lost, and do not stray far from Gladio and I, please.”

“Yeah yeah Mom, whatever,” Noctis said, waving his hand as he grinned, scanning his own phone as he looked at all the rides. “Oh oh! This one’s new!” he said, standing shoulder to shoulder with Prompto as he showed him his screen, pointing to a ride called ‘Ifrits Hellfire’.

“That sounds terrifying,” Prompto said, looking up to Noctis who was entirely too close in normal public circumstances.

“Keep the romance to a minimum, lovebirds. Last thing we need is the two of you plastered on the front of The Insomnian Times.” Gladio said, nudging them apart.

Prompto flustered slightly and Noctis whined, but other than that neither complained too much.

The group split up, though Advisor and Shield were always closeby. Noctis dragged Prompto further into the park, and watched as Prompto looked around with eyes that held such wonder. Noctis couldn’t help but stare.

“So, Prompto. Where do you wanna start?” The Prince asked, phone open on the map. Prompto’s light eyes scanned the phone, reading all of the rides and attractions.

“If we ride Ifrits Hellfire, will you hold me when I get scared?” he asked, turning to Noctis with a faux pout. Noctis laughed and punched the others shoulder lightly.

“Duh. Screw the tabloids, they know we can shut them down if they post anything incriminating.” he said, grabbing the others hand for a moment, squeezing it, then releasing it. Best to not push it.

“Okay okay, but can we start with Flume de Leviathan? Pleeeease?” Prompto grinned, Noctis shook his head.

“If you don’t mind being soaking wet for a few hours, sure.” he snorted.

“YEAH but the other roller coasters will dry us off, right?” Prompto stated, and damn, those big puppy eyes…

“…Good enough logic for me, lets go!” he said, grabbing the others arm and leading the way. He knew this park like the back of his hand. He couldn’t wait to take Prompto on every single line.

They got in line for the Flume, and they waited about four different flumes before it was their turn. Right up front, too.

Perfect.

They got in, front row and  Noctis was glad cause if you sat up front, you didn’t get as wet cause the water went right up over your head. Usually.

He loved Prompto, but he did not wanna sit in wet clothes for a few hours.

The Leviathan shaped flume floated away from the loading area and made the loop around to the hill, the clinking of the chains tugging them up the incline to the top where there was a stone looking tunnel that resembled the aqueducts in Altissia.

Prompto was grinning ear to ear. “Ah, I wish i had my camera but I didn’t wanna risk dropping it or ruining it.” he pouted.

“Its okay, We can buy a picture at the Kiosk when we get off the ride. Wanna do a funny pose?” Noctis asked, and Prompto seemed to think it over.

“Or I could kiss you,” He suggested, and Prompto squeaked.

“Woah woah, I’m pretty sure that’s the exact opposite of what Ignis advised.” he laughed, but smiled. “But I wouldn’t mind that, yeah.”

They reached the top and made the final round, and they were coming up to the drop. As much as Prompto wanted to throw his hands in the air, he was looking forward to the kiss.

Prompto was afraid of heights, but they weren’t as high up as he had thought, but the look down still made his stomach clench.

As they dropped, Noctis leaned over to grab his face, cupping it gently as he placed a (somehow) graceful kiss to his lips. Prompto smiled and shut his eyes, breaking the kiss as they reached the bottom, watching the water fly up over them, some of it falling onto them, but not soaking them.

He laughed, grinning ear to ear. “Wow that was amazing, can we do it again?” he asked, turning to Noctis.

The raven haired male chuckled. “Lets try out a few more rides, then we can come back here.” he said, ruffling the others damp hair.

“Not my hair.” Prompto whined.

“Don’t worry, the roller coasters will respike it for ya.” he teased, grinning as they got off the ride.

Noctis took him over to the kiosk and purchased two of the photos of them kissing. It was a cute picture, really. Even if they were in a blue, Leviathan shaped log flume.

It was perfect, actually.

–

They spent the rest of the day riding the different rides. Noctis stayed true to his word and held Prompto when they rode Ifrits Hellfire, a roller coaster based off jump scares.

It took Prompto forever to convince Noctis to ride the Judgement bolt, a coaster that shoots you off immediately at 72 miles per hour. But they had done it, and although Noctis screamed like a little girl (to which he would deny) They enjoyed it.

Gladio had even convinced Ignis to ride it. He’d never forget Ignis’ shriek as the ride took off.

It was the end of the night and they had ridden everything twice. They had forgone a second time on the flume to play some games at the arcade.

Noctis won a ring toss and got a HUGE plush Leviathan for Prompto., who clutched the plushy tightly, face burrowed into it.

Prompto had won a shooting game and won Noctis a Plushie of a blue fox with a horn on its head. Noctis seemed startled by the plush at first, and Prompto was unsure why, but he accepted it happily.

They met up with Ignis and Gladio then, and Ignis was slightly red in the face holding a rather large plush of a can of ebony. When questioned, he noted that Gladio had won it for him at the ‘Titan’s Strength’ game.

“How hard can you hit the target with a hammer? Have they met me? I coulda done double the scale they had.” Gladio scoffed. He was holding a moogle plushie that he intended to give to Iris when he returned home.

Once back in the car, Prompto curled into Noctis’ side, both of them holding their plushies. Noctis had an arm around the other, and placed a kiss to the top of his forehead.

“I hope you had fun today,”

“I had a blast, Noct! Thank you so much,” Prompto said, wrapping his arms around the other tightly, pressing a kiss into his neck before nuzzling into it.

“I’m glad. Love you, Prom.”

“Love you too, Noct.”

“Gross. Get a room.” Gladio groaned from the front seat.

“Indeed.” Ignis agreed.