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nyctoaerah · 20 days

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⋆♱⋆WISH GRANTED CH: 1

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS In which, you, a workaholic grade A detective has been investigating about multiple murder cases, found out that your boyfriend has been seeing your best friend behind your back. And due to your anger, you accidentally wished for your ex boyfriend and ex best friend to die—and they did end up dying. her boyfriend and best friend was found dead and brutally killed. and the person who did it was the same serial killer she was looking for, and no matter what her wish is, he ends up granting it in the most twisted way possible

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS Infidelity, Death, Yandere Behaviors (duh) Other triggering stuff.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS Yandere! Eyeless Jack x Fem! Detective! Reader

⋆♱⋆NOTE Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3.

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

TAKING OUT A PICTURE of someone who was reported missing from your briefcase, you smoothly placed it on the table. With a quick movement, you grabbed a red marker from your briefcase and decisively drew a bold ‘x’ across the person’s face.

“Another missing person that got killed,”

You let out a weary sigh as your eyes remained focused on Jhenicca, your closest confidant and fellow detective. Both of you were dedicated to solving crimes together, forming an inseparable partnership in the field. However, it was important to note that you held a higher rank and possessed more experience in comparison to your junior colleague, Jhenicca.

Jhenicca’s brows creased as her emerald green eyes bore into your [E/c] ones.

“Seriously? Another one?”

Jhenicca let out a deep, anguished groan expressing her displeasure at the fact that an increasing number of individuals were disappearing, only to be discovered lifeless later on.

“Yeah, seriously.” You uttered those words, your face devoid of any emotion.

“Ah, well, it doesn't really matter anyway.” Jhenicca uttered in a low voice, her eyes wandering aimlessly, diverting her attention from yours.

“Just give the damn information, [N/n]” Jhenicca asked for the necessary information and specifics during your conversation. You set the red marker down, signaling the start of a conversation that was about to take a somber turn.

“The victim was named Katarina Smith. She vanished four days ago after entering a forrest. Her lifeless body was discovered in an abandoned building inside the forrest,"

You revealed the information. As an exceptional and highly skilled investigator, you were entrusted with leading the inquiry into the mysterious disappearances, wherein the victims were consistently discovered with horrifying injuries or their vital organs, such as the kidneys, inexplicably gone. This disturbing pattern of events has persisted over the course of the last four months, leaving you feeling increasingly weary and overwhelmed due to the sheer volume of cases being assigned to you.

“We can go to the crime scene later and look for some evidence.”

You suggested and jhenicca nodded solemnly.

“So what do we know about the previous victims?” Jhenicca questioned you as her brows knitted, obviously disturbed.

You reached into your briefcase once again and pulled out a file containing the information you had gathered so far.

“There have been fifteen victims before Katarina,”

You began, flipping through the pages. “All of them went missing under similar circumstances—last seen entering a forrest, and then found dead on different sides of the Forrest.”

“Fifteen.”

Jhenicca breathed out and slammed her fist on your table, creating a loud banging sound and you sighed in exasperation, placing your hand on your forehead as your brows creased and your jaw locked.

“I know, i know.”

You mumbled, exasperated.

“Fifteen fucking people have been going missing for about 4 months now and we still can’t fucking get a single trace or clue about the perpetrator!”

Jhennica’s seethed with anger, clearly expressing her deep disappointment regarding the sluggishness of your progress. However, it is hard to deny her feelings, as you yourself are also disappointed with the current situation.

“Calm down.”

You tried to calm her down.

“What do you mean calm down?”

Jhenicca glared at you, running a hand through her blond locks.

“[Name]! We can’t go around relaxing when people are going missing and dying!”

Jhenicca exclaimed, causing you to feel increasingly frustrated. However, despite your annoyance, you made an effort to maintain your composure. Deep down, you acknowledged that Jhenicca had a valid point. It wasn’t as if you were idly lounging around; in reality, you had been pushing yourself to the limit, tirelessly working nonstop in order to achieve any sort of progress—And you were tired, so fucking tired.

Feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, you let out a heavy sigh, massaging your temples with your fingertips to alleviate the mounting tension.

“I know, i know” You spoke incoherently and indistinctly, barely making any audible sounds. “However, it is essential for you to regain composure initially, for it will enable us to thoroughly evaluate the circumstances at hand and make an accurate assessment."”

With a slightly narrowed gaze and furrowed brows, you expressed to her, causing Jhenicca to let out an exasperated huff and divert her gaze from you.

“Calm down my ass,”

She mumbles.

You experienced a sudden involuntary contraction in your eye, causing it to twitch.

“Cease behaving in such an immature and obstinate manner, don’t be a fucking brat” Feeling exasperated by her obnoxious behavior, you let out a disapproving sound while your level of professionalism momentarily dissipates. Jhenicca, in response, disdainfully looks away, disregarding your reaction.

“Fuck you.”

She glared at you.

“Fuck you too.”

Jhenicca releases a sarcastic laugh, displaying her annoyance towards the unexpected and abrupt eruption of emotions from you.

“Okay, whatever, but we still need to find any pattern or connection between these victims,”

Jhenicca made a suggestion, her voice hinting at a lingering annoyance. In response, you scornfully chuckled, casting your gaze downwards.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you took in a deep breath before quietly uttering a small apology for your earlier outburst.

However, Jhenicca breezed past your apology, choosing to disregard it completely as she proceeded with her speech.

“Do you think it could provide us with valuable clues regarding the murderer's identity? Is there anything notable connecting all of the victims that you've observed?” she asked.

Once you regained a sense of inner tranquility, you visibly expressed your agreement by giving a reassuring nod. Resting your hand gently upon your chin, you directed your gaze towards Jhenicca, deep in thought.

“The victims share several similarities among themselves. Firstly, they all belong to the young adult age group, specifically individuals in their twenties. Secondly, they had a common habit of visiting and spending time in the same forest. Lastly, their disappearances occurred exclusively during the weekends, further emphasizing this pattern of occurrence.” You provided a clear explanation.

“Based on the autopsy reports, it seems that their kidneys were removed post-mortem, suggesting a potential organ trafficking angle. However, the brutality of the killings indicates a possibly cannibalistic tendencies as well.”

You have provided an explanation regarding the reason behind those individuals having their organs removed. It is feasible to consider the possibility of a cannibal being involved, particularly since you had previously delved into the topic through various cannibal documentaries during your college years.

“We need to gather more evidence and dig deeper into the victims' backgrounds.”

You said, tapping on your chin.

“We need to find any connections they might have had, both among themselves and with potential suspects. We’ll also increase surveillance on houses that are close in that forrest, for they frequented in the hope of catching any suspicious activities.”

You informed and you were taken aback when, out of nowhere, the entrance to your workspace abruptly swung ajar, unveiling the presence of your beloved partner, Earl.

Earl is also a skilled investigator who happens to be employed within the same institution as you. He had a pile of papers held in one hand while balancing some cups of refreshing iced coffee in his other hand.

“Good morning, Love”he greeted with a pleasant tone, his words carrying warmth and friendliness. With a gleeful expression, he curved his lips upward, directing his gaze towards Jhenicca with the intention of acknowledging her presence as he nodded approvingly.

“Good morning to you too!”Jhenicca extended a warm welcome. You let out a frustrated breath and directed your gaze towards Earl.

“Kindly knock on the door to gain permission before stepping inside the room.” Shaking your head in dismay, you expressed your disapproval through scolding, while Earl nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, revealing his indifference.

“* apologize for the interruption, but I have something of utmost significance to share,” your partner apologized politely, presenting you with a substantial collection of documents and carefully arranging them on the surface of your desk.

“Really?” Jhenicca’s eyelids fluttered momentarily, as a reflexive response to stimuli.

“What is the matter?”

You inquired, fixating your gaze directly into the deep, mahogany irises of Earl.

“There has been an increase in the number of individuals who have disappeared, and upon closer examination, it is evident that the specifics align with the characteristics observed in the previous instances.”

As your eyes briefly skimmed across the pile of documents placed right in front of you, a complex blend of unease and exasperation manifested on your face.

The news you were presently receiving was far from ideal, pushing against your desire for a different outcome, particularly since you and your diligent team had invested an immense amount of time and effort into probing the perplexing string of disappearances that had preceded this moment. Jhenicca, noticing the identical emotional response on her own countenance, mirrored your sentiments precisely upon digesting the given information.

“Anyways, i brought some coffee for you, love,” As you observed, Earl gently placed the refreshing iced coffee onto your desk, and a sense of appreciation washed over you, causing a grateful smile to adorn your face while simultaneously feeling a soothing wave of relaxation engulfing your being.

“Thanks love—”

You initiated speaking, however, Jhenicca interjected, causing you to immediately cease speaking and keeping your lips sealed.

“No coffee for me? I’m feeling left out you know?” Jhenicca’s eyebrow arched in amusement as she voiced her playful disappointment regarding the lack of coffee being offered to her. As you observed the situation, a flicker of surprise crossed your face, signaling that you were starting to grasp the peculiarly close bond between Jhenicca and your boyfriend. A peculiar sense of discomfort started to take hold of you, yet you struggled to identify the exact source of this unease.

‘Since where were they this close?’

You pondered quietly as you watched the two interact.

Earl couldn’t help but chuckle in response to Jhenicca’s witty remark, as he placed yet another refreshing iced coffee on the desk, hoping to soothe her slight disappointment expressed through her adorable pouting expression.

With a wide smile, he uttered,

“Here, don’t sulk.” Jhenicca beamed with happiness as she conveyed her appreciation. Earl emitted a light-hearted laughter, brushing off the situation, which left you with an indescribable sense of being left out, lingering persistently within you. Earl comfortably took his place on the nearby chair, gently resting his head on your shoulder as he curiously asked,

“Anyway, love, Can you provide an update on the current status of the situation? Have there been any advancements in identifying and apprehending the person responsible for the incident?”

He asked and as you were preparing to articulate a response, Jhenicca abruptly interjected once more, causing a subtle expression of displeasure to form on your face. It became increasingly apparent that since Earl’s arrival, Jhenicca had consistently been interrupting your attempts to contribute to the conversation.

“Welllll”

Jhenicca said, making sure to stretch the word.

“Nope!”

Jhenicca’s wide grin appeared on her face, attempting to portray an endearing demeanor that caused you to cringe internally; she resembled someone who was seeking attention—a fucking pick me.

It would have been more appropriate for her to exhibit a serious demeanor, considering the gravity of the topic at hand. It perplexed you how she could switch from being angered to acting as cheerful as a ray of sunshine. The sudden shift in her behavior left you contemplating whether to request her to remain silent and allow you to express yourself, but you opted to restrain from doing so.

“Unfortunately, we’ve been giving it our all, but we haven’t found any leads,”

You finally explained with a sigh and Earl frowned once he heard that information, he felt disappointed.

You then took a deep breath.

“However, I do have a theory. It’s possible that the serial killer is also a cannibal.”

Earl blinked in disbelief, but he considered the idea.

“Really? That’s quite an unexpected twist.”

Before you could elaborate and explain all the details about your theory, jhenicca interjected once more so you just chose to remain silent, a tinge of annoyance crossed your expression but it quickly disappeared.

“I agree! I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Jhenicca said.

“Ah right! Do you know that there are similarities between the victims?”

Jhenicca began to converse with your boyfriend and as you sipped on your refreshing iced coffee, Earl glanced in your direction, expressing his acknowledgement through a subtle nod. Soon after, the two individuals initiated a conversation which took a meandering path, encompassing diverse topics.

However, a significant portion of their discussion revolved around the various homicide cases you had been diligently investigating. As you attentively observed Jhenicca and Earl engrossed in their dialogue, it became apparent that a strong connection existed between them. Unexpectedly, the serenity of the moment was abruptly disturbed by the sound of your phone ringing, breaking the tranquility in the air. Jhenicca’s eyes blinked, briefly closing and opening again.

“I thought you had your phone on do not disturb?”Jhenicca inquired, and you shook your head.

“Not quite. As a detective, every call or text holds significance, you should be aware of that,” you responded, slightly exasperated. Setting your coffee aside, you retrieved your phone from your pocket, and your eyes widened as you read the message. your eyes suddenly lit up and a faint smile made its way to your face.

Finally, an evidence, after four fucking months, there was finally an evidence.

“Ouch, so harsh.”

Jhenicca's expression turned into a pout at your stern words.

Your eye twitched in annoyance, caused by the tone she adopted. Normally, she spoke to you in a different manner, but this time it was almost childlike, which bothered you without any clear explanation as to why she was behaving that way.

Earl curiously asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s the headquarters. They’ve discovered some evidence at the crime scene,” you informed, and Earl hummed thoughtfully.

“That’s wonderful.”

Earl said with a smile.

“Really? That’s an excellent news!” Jhenicca beamed

“Yes, I’m glad too”

You replied with a closed eyed smile

Then suddenly, a phone call interrupted,you looked at your phone to see who called and it was the headquarters, perhaps they had something important to say and you couldn’t risk missing it.

“The headquarters is on the line,” you announced.

“Oh.”

Earl seemed disappointed since he wanted to talk to you more while jhenicca didn't have a reaction.

“I need to have a private conversation with them, so I’ll leave you two here,” you informed, gently shifting Earl’s head from your shoulder before standing up.

You planted a tender kiss on Earl's cheek, eliciting a smile from him.

“I won’t take long, don’t worry.”

You reassured him because you saw his disappointed face and Earl’s face lit up from your words.

“Alright, Stay safe,” Earl said, returning your smile as you made your way towards the office exit.

However, from the corner of your eye, you caught Earl discreetly wiping off the kiss, causing a frown to form on your face. And the way Jhenicca glanced at your boyfriend was different, stirring a sense of unease within you.

Your intuition was telling you that something was wrong.

Tension pervaded the atmosphere within your office, akin to an unuttered secret that lingered ever since your departure to answer the call from the headquarters. Earl’s face carried the weight of guilt, mirroring the guilty conscience that resided within him, while Jhenicca appeared unbothered, portraying an effortless and carefree demeanor that juxtaposed the tension.

It was astonishing to earl that he and jhenicca had embarked on this path. The hidden relationship between him and Jhenicca had been going on clandestinely for a significant period of nine months. Initially, it had been a mere coincidence, encounter in a bar where their paths crossed unexpectedly. However, as fate would have it, the influence of alcohol led them to hook up that night. From that moment, their connection deepened, and it evolved into an ongoing affair, causing Earl to experience overwhelming guilt for cheating on you.

“We are truly betraying [Name] by engaging in secret meetings,” Earl whispered, causing Jhenicca to recline comfortably in her chair, propping her feet up on the desk without a care, even if it meant potentially crushing important documents beneath her soles.

With a piercing gaze, she interrogated, “Between the two of us—Me and [Name], whom do you love more? Me or her?"

Feeling his throat tighten, Earl mustered the courage to respond, “You.”

Jhenicca let out an exasperated sigh, her frustration apparent as she exclaimed,

“Then what’s the big deal? We love each other, don’t we? Don’t worry, [Name] will never find out.”

...

As their conversation fell upon your ears, tears began to well up in your eyes, their meaning hitting you with full force. Suddenly, everything started to make sense. Their closeness, the way Jhenicca gazed at Earl with adoration, it was all clear now. They had been hiding their secret involvement from you, deceiving you right under your nose. The pain that came rushing over you was nearly unbearable, as the person you once loved and cherished had betrayed you with none other than your best friend. The mere thought of Jhenicca turning out to be a backstabber had never even crossed your mind. Clenching your fists tightly, you fought against the overwhelming urge to burst into the room, confront them both, and scream at them.

In that moment, your heart seemed to shatter into innumerable fragments, completely consumed by an uncontrollable whirlwind of emotions—anger, sadness, and most of all, a profound feeling of betrayal.

As you clutched your chest, your face contorted with pain, the weight of their conversation pierced your heart like a sharp knife. Earlier, you had received a brief call from headquarters, urgently instructing you to gather important documents and return to your office. Obediently, you started making your way back, determined to fulfill your responsibilities. However, fate had different plans for you that day. Along the corridor, their familiar voices reached your ears, luring you in with an irresistible curiosity. Against your better judgment, you couldn’t resist the urge to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Little did you know, the words exchanged between them would shatter your heart into countless irreparable shards.

The shock and disbelief hit you like a ton of brick. Anger immediately surged within you, a fiery mix of self-blame for not recognizing the signs sooner and directed towards those who had so callously betrayed you. It was all becoming too much to bear.

Overwhelmed with a whirlwind of emotions, tears welled up in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably. The pain you felt was indescribable, as if your entire world had come crashing down in an instant. Without a second thought, you hastily abandoned the familiar surroundings of the police station, leaving your colleagues behind. Although they called out to you with genuine concern, their voices only seemed like distant echoes in your ears.

Racing through the chaos of your own thoughts and emotions, you let instinct guide your trembling steps. The city streets blurred into a haze as you hurriedly made your way through the crowd. Every footfall was a desperate attempt to escape the anguish that threatened to consume you entirely. People glanced in your direction, their curious gazes fleeting, yet you were oblivious to their existence. All that mattered at that moment was finding solace.

Filled with a potent blend of frustration and exasperation, you hastily made your way towards the vast expanse of the parking lot, an irrefutable reflection of your inner turmoil. As your trembling hands grasped tightly onto the cold metal of your car keys, a surge of determination propelled you to forcefully insert the key into the lock, unleashing a resounding ‘click.’

Seeking solace within the confined space, you were driven to hastily enter your vehicle, forcefully slamming the door shut with an air of finality. Unchecked tears cascaded down your face, a poignant manifestation of the amalgamation of anger and heartbreak that tightly gripped your soul. “Can’t believe i’m so fucking dumb that i didn’t even get the hint,”

“I helped you, i was there for you, and this is your way of showing gratitude?” you exclaimed with sheer rage, your jaw clenched and your hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. The deluge of intense feelings engulfed every fiber of your being, causing your eyes to well up with tears as you were overcome by an inconsolable fit of sobbing.

“After two fucking years of our love story, you threw it all away as if it held no value or significance?” You were consumed with intense anger and frustration, directing all the blame towards jhenicca. Your anger escalated to such a level that it led you to harbor a desire for something that, upon reflection, you didn’t knew you would later deeply regret.

“I wish you two die in a painful way.”

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

You eventually drive away and returned home, consumed by anger, and unleashed your fury by destroying everything in sight: vases, picture frames, and the gifts Earl had given you. You smashed the vases, threw them on the ground and the wall, tore the pictures apart and ripped the gifts to shreds, you even trew your chair on the ground, and The room was now littered with shattered remnants of your rampage.

After four hours of relentless tears, your eyes were swollen and dry, leaving you devoid of any more tears to shed. Your throat felt parched, and fatigue washed over you, making you drowsy. Your break down caused too many destruction. And In the midst of this overwhelming exhaustion, your phone rang.

you grimaced.

“Probably that cheating bastards.” you muttered angrily, retrieving your phone and reluctantly opening it. The harsh light caused you to wince, but to your relief, it wasn't Jhenicca or Earl on the other end, but rather the headquarters.

With a mix of apprehension and frustration, you answered the call. A chill coursed down your spine as you listened to what they had to say.

“Your Boyfriend and Best friend was found dead.”

#ᯓ★Aerah’s works!#ᯓ★Y!EJ; Wish Granted #yandere x reader #yandere creepypasta #yandere eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta #yandere creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x you #dark themes #cw: gore #dark yandere

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opheliaintherushes · 3 months

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Love the theme of communication or lack thereof in last night's episode.

Croz's inability to connect with his wife, triggered with the sign-off on her letter, leads him to seek companionship with another woman who can get it. Rosie can't make the doctor understand anything about him: his need to stay fighting, and his need to stay fighting. Bucky is literally alone in hostile territory, and his first conversation is with a Luftwaffe interrogator playing the friend to use it against him - his only response can be name, rank, and serial number.

But Crosby is finally able to open up his suffocating guilt over Bubbles's death by sharing memories over a drink with a new friend. And the doctor finally reaches Rosie though his love of music - Gene Krupa can awe the crowd on his own, but his true talent is holding the band together. And in an episode that featured Bucky's descent into the heart of the darkness, beginning with the very Apocalypse Now-esque high grasses of the river sequence, he's finally reunited with Buck when someone calls out - "John Egan, your 2 o'clock" - the language of his people.

#Masters of the Air

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countessravengrey · 2 months

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I'm convinced that when Steve finds Bucky in the bowels of that factory, that he was convinced he was going to die, and while he recited his name, rank, and serial number, he was dreaming about being home with Steve...which would make the dissociation that much weirder when Steve shows up in a totally different body.

#stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #catfa

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sstormyskyess · 2 months

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uhh thinking about robot!ghost

Your profession was a rare one in the British SAS. There was a stark lack of automaton soldiers, due to the stigmatization that surrounded the group, and a majority of the ones that made their way into the ranks knew how to manage their own circuits. But for the ones that didn’t, that’s where you come in.

As an advanced automaton mechanic, you’re highly proficient in the field of robotics. Your level of skill is appreciated by the few that require your expertise, as few and far between as they may be, which is exactly the reason you’re here in a quiet little cafe waiting for your newest assignment to arrive. You were able to do some personal research about them, having been allowed some of their documents to look over.

When Station Chief Kate Laswell had gotten in contact with you, you knew that it must be serious business. You’d met her a few years prior to now and your previous CO had sung your praises up and down, but you could’ve never expected that she would even remember you, let alone call you up and request your services.

So here you are, flipping through the limited pages of your new temporary team. As far as you could tell, none of them were automatons, unless one of them was the extremely rare life-like ones that looked almost scarily similar to humans. The strangest file was the one with no picture at all. The name on the file was ‘Simon Riley,’ and his nickname was ‘Ghost.’ Kind of scary, you think.

Before you have any more time to dwell on it, the bell on the door rings and Laswell walks in. She scans the room for you and smiles once she meets your eyes. She waves as she approaches and you peek behind her to see four men, all of which you recognize from the files aside from one: the one who wore a black balaclava that covered the majority of his face excluding his eyes. Ghost, you assume.

You stand up and meet them halfway, putting on your standard business smile while she introduces you, giving your name and rank. The man you recognize as Captain Price steps forward and shakes your hand firmly with a charming smile accentuated by his mustache and beard. He goes down the line introducing the rest of his squad and once he gets to Ghost, he lets the taller man step forward.

One of his gloved hands pulls back the sleeve on his left arm, presenting the inside of his wrist to you. You’re able to see through the decals on his arm the serial number imprinted on the surface of his wrist. You recognize the number immediately, rendered speechless for only a moment as you realize just how rare his model is. You’ve never met someone like him before and to be face to face with one of the most rare specimens on the planet as you knew it had you starstruck.

You’re quickly able to snap out of it so you don’t make yourself seem like a weirdo to people you just met and pull your hands away from where they were inspecting the engraved number. Ghost stays there, looking you up and down with a scrutinizing stare. “You ever worked with my model before?” His gruff voice takes you by surprise.

“Uh, no, actually. Mostly just standard models,” You explain, fiddling with the small bag of tools attached to your hip. “It’ll be interesting to work with you, lieutenant.”

And interesting it was.

You didn’t need to fix him up often; he was decent at getting out of scuffles unharmed and when he did get hit, his casing was strong enough to ward off most artillery aimed his way. Generally, you were performing simple check-ups after being out on the field, checking for damages and scuffing out minor scrapes.

The first time you had to get intensive with your repairs was a few months into your partnership with TF-141. He’d taken a bullet to the abdomen, just barely missing one of his core processors. He came back to your office barely functioning, the LEDs that constituted his eyes dim and flickering. It was a whole night ordeal fixing him, taking apart metal plates and working with deft fingers to take out malfunctioning parts and put in specially made replacements. By the time he was fully up and running, you’d been awake for seven hours straight with no breaks. You checked him over one last time and had passed out leaning on your workbench before he booted back up.

He wakes you up with a shake to your shoulders and you groan as you sit up, feeling the muscles in your neck and shoulders tensed up. You rub the sleep from your eyes and glance up at him, about to ask him what was wrong, but you’re cut off by the way his eyes peer down at you. You left his face plate on out of respect for his privacy, but now you were face to face with the naked circuits behind the sheet of metal previously covering them up.

But the reason it catches you off guard is the way they’re made up. Instead of the standard flat circuit board look an automaton’s true face had, Ghost’s face is much more… human. It’s almost organic, and if one didn’t know any better, they might assume he was just a human in a robot costume. And yet, his LED eyes still peer at you, a clear sign of his inorganic nature.

“Y’forgot to put my tag back in,” he says plainly, his voice echoing out from where his mouth would be.

Right. His tag. How did you forget that? It’s one of the most important things an automaton needs: something that keeps their identity straight when compared to other automatons. Looks like you made a great impression for your first time working on his body so intimately.

You clear your throat, looking away from his face and sliding your chair over to all your tools. You sift through everything cluttering the space and eventually find his tag, standing up to put it back in place in the junction between his neck and shoulder. All the while, his eyes were locked on you, making you squirm. Why did he always have to stare at you when you were working on him? It was starting to frustrate you, but you couldn’t focus on that when his bare face was threatening to distract you. God, you wanted to inspect him further.

He leaves when you finally get the tag back into its slot, granting you a quick ‘bye,’ before closing the door behind him. Well, if you weren’t already enamored by his one-of-a-kind model, you were certainly enamored by something else, now. Great.

idk where this one came from i just like sci-fi things i guess?

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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meidui · 6 months

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Robert Downey Jr on going off-book for Oppenheimer (2023, dir Christopher Nolan): "I obsessively went into a mode where I was name, rank, and serial number. If you woke me up in the middle of the night, I would know it."

#i didn't know he worked that hard for the iron man screen test!!#robert downey jr #mark ruffalo #rdjedit #robertdowneyjredit #markruffaloedit #variety actors on actors #*#gif*#edit*

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mercurygray · 1 month

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Apologies Owing

Well, they're finally here - the pilots, that is. The base's WACs have some opinions they'd like to share.

A follow up to this piece - and an announcement! I'll be trying to post all of Cord's drabbles on AO3 at Pavilioned In the Fields.

The talk over dinner was about nothing but the officers.

There was no consensus yet, it seemed, over who was the handsomest. Netta was stumping for Brady, the one who'd ridden his fort straight into a rut in the middle of the airfield and had walked away without a scratch, but Anita and Mary Dacre both wanted to speak of no one but DeMarco - or rather, the dog he'd brought with him, who had kindly consented to pets and treats and much crooning while his owner stood by and beamed at himself for the genius idea of getting the husky to find his Friday night dates for him. (Mae, too, seemed taken by the idea of the dog, though she was a little too world-wise to let the pup's gorgeous blue eyes win her over to his owner.)

"I liked the one that blew us a kiss," Nina said, almost loyally, still mooning into her soup about it nearly three hours later, elbow firmly planted on the table while she started wistfully into space. "What'd you say his name was, Phoebe?"

"Biddick," Phoebe said, wisely taking the middle road and saying nothing about anything apart from name, rank and serial number, reaching around Nina's elbow for the salt. "Curtis Biddick. Flies with Richard Snyder."

"The one who looks like Leslie Howard?" Becky looked like that was more her speed. "Now there's a man I'd let do a few close maneuvers."

"Curtis Biddick," Nina smiled dreamily, staring off into space obviously having heard nothing Becky had said. "It was so romantic."

"You gotta watch out for boys like that, Nina, they're usually more trouble than they're worth," Mae said, locking eyes with Phoebe across the table and exchanging abbreviated smiles.

"You all can have fun with the squaddies, but I feel like aiming a little higher," Ethel said with a cutthroat grin, inspecting the arch of her brow in the convex of her soup spoon. "That blonde who drove in with Major Egan looks like he really could be in pictures."

"Cleven," Phoebe supplied, before anyone could ask. "Major Gale Cleven. He's Egan's best friend, apparently. He came up to tower, didn't he, Cord? With Major Egan and Demarco?"

"He did," Cord said, non-committal while she wiped some sauce off the corner of her mouth and considered whether she wanted to try chasing down the last of her peas. "Seemed nice enough."

"Hmmm." Ethel looked unimpressed, and perhaps a little put out that Cord, of all people, had gotten an eye in to the main chance that she clearly couldn't appreciate properly. "Nice enough to have a girl at home?"

But no one ventured an answer for her - the half of the table that was facing the doorway all clammed up at same time as the man himself approached the table, uniform immaculate and blond hair swept just so over his very handsome face. The table stood up as one, Nina accidentally flinging her spoon into her bowl with a clatter.

"Ladies. Was wondering if I might have a word alone with Lieutenant Callaway." His voice was all gravitas and gravel, and Ethel looked like she'd die of envy the way she was glaring across the table at her lieutenant.

Mae's eyes, on the other hand, flashed with delight, and Cord looked around the table to see that nearly everyone else was smiling the way girls smiled when they thought you had something to keep a secret about. She felt hot with betrayal. Now just what do you all think - "I think we're all finished, Major, we can leave," Mae offered, gesturing to the rest of the table to get going. "We'll catch you up, Cord." Mae promised, beaming back at her friend, following the rest of the group out the door and back to barracks.

Cord took a breath and studied her shoes for a moment, hoping that none of that heat had made it to her face, and Cleven hadn't seen any of their hinting smiles - or heard what Ethel had just said. She waited until the crowd cleared the door to speak. "Sir?"

"Seems I owe you an apology, Lieutenant."

Whatever she'd been expecting him to say ...wasn't that. "…What for, sir?"

Cleven's gaze was patient, though it looked like that patience was being tested a little at the moment. "Whatever John's done here for the last month."

It took Cord more than a moment to realize he was talking about Bucky Egan. She'd plumb forgotten his first name was John, if she'd ever known it at all. He introduced himself to everyone as Bucky. "…that's very kind of you, Major Cleven, but I'm not sure that's your apology to make, sir."

"Well, a fellow can try." He smiled - a brief thing - and Cord realized why Ethel thought he'd do well in movies. Underneath those baby blue eyes ran some very, very still waters. Well, they'd have to be, to have Egan for a friend. "He - he means well, usually. He's just not…real good at thinking things through sometimes."

You can say that again. "That's…not a quality one looks for in an executive officer, if you don't mind me saying, sir."

Cleven chuckled - a sound Cord was getting the impression most people didn't hear very often. "No, it most certainly is not. But he has others - a damn fine flyer, a good man to have with you in a fight, and a - a good friend."

The quiet fortitude was growing on her - a strong contrast to Egan's boisterous take-all-comers antics. And he'd come here, when he didn't have to, when nothing said he even needed to, to apologize, on the sole basis of one meeting this morning where she'd stood her ground and been short with his friend. He noticed things, Major Cleven did - and that counted for something. "He must be, to have you making apologies for him on your first day here."

Again, the smallest of smiles. "He'd do the same, if it had been me that had stepped wrong. I'm just trying to…pay the favor forward." He took a breath, and looked at his shoes. "He, ah - he mentioned you were from Ohio."

"Dayton," Cord supplied, wondering when this had turned from an apology into an interview.

"Pretty prime flying country out there at Wright-Patterson," Cleven said quietly, glancing at her with softly curious eyes.

"Yes, sir, it is. I practically grew up there - my dad worked on the base, as an engineer. Worked pretty close with the test pilots."

"Is that how you got into the tower?"

"More or less, sir."

"Heard Brady say you were the calmest voice alive, talking him in today."

The 'for a woman' that had doubtless followed the original comment went unsaid, and Cord measured out her own smile. "Well, there's two types of pilots, sir - those who've had a belly landing, and -"

"-those who will." Cleven finished the old chestnut with a smile. "They teach you a lot about belly landings in Dayton, Lieutenant?"

Cord took a deep breath, remembering the rumbling, skating feeling of the plane underneath her, the nameless terror that the brakes no longer worked and her steering was in God's hands, waiting endlessly while the machine skidded heavily to a halt and she planned her exits, preparing to make a run for it. "A fair bit, sir."

"Hopefully we won't give you any more." He caught her gaze and held it. "Let me know, if he gives you any more trouble? We can't have our controller off her game."

She looked him in the eye and knew, instinctively, that he meant that, and if she said something, he would take her at her word - something not too many men on this base would do. That counted for something, too. "You'll be the first person I tell, Major."

He nodded, glad to be heard and understood, and turned to leave, before thinking of one last thing. "And maybe you'll let your friend know the girl at home is named Marge?" His smile was nearly imperceptible, and Cord almost laughed to see it. So he had heard. That's a very dry sense of humor you have there, sir. "Wouldn't want anyone …getting the wrong idea."

She nodded, happy that there was something here she could do for him. Oh, we're going to get along so well. "Of course, sir." Well, Ethel, serves you right. She could just see the other woman's face when she told her that Cleven was definitely off the market.

The understanding, it seemed, was mutual - Cleven gave a little nod and put his hand in his pocket. "Enjoy your evening, Lieutenant."

"And you, Major."

He went back outside, and Cord's eye followed him through the windows to the group of pilots joking and laughing in the road outside, probably getting ready to go into town. What reason could he have given for stopping in the mess hall? Or maybe he didn't need one. Egan hooked his arm around his friend's shoulders, and Cord caught a glimpse, again, of Cleven's fleeting smile - wider now, laughing with his friends as they set off for the village and the pub. And they're best friends? Well, they do say opposites attract.

Cord tidied her seat and exited the mess, surprised to see Mae was sitting on the bench outside the mess, apparently waiting. She got up as Cord stepped outside, grinning from ear to ear. "A word alone with Lieutenant Callaway, huh? You got something you want to share with the class, Cord?"

"Oh, buzz off, Mae. He just wanted to -" She paused, feeling, suddenly, that the apology was not for public consumption. "To thank me, for helping Brady land."

Mae nodded, a little impressed with the new Major. "The way she's going, I think Netta's gonna thank you too."

You can read more of Cord here on tumblr at her tag.

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #tds cinematic universe #cordelia callaway #masters of the air x oc #masters of the air fanfic #john egan x oc #stop the presses everyone i have written gale cleven

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fortune-fool02 · 1 year

Text

A Father’s Sacrifice

Dad Leon Kennedy x daughter, female reader

Summary: A father will do anything to ensure the safety of his child. Even at the cost of his own humanity.

Warnings: Angst. Blood. Light body horror. Parental-Child love. Violence.

Taglist; @multi-fandom-imagine

This was based on a dream I mentioned a bit ago with some other bits added.

Please enjoy!

Something tugged at the back of Leon’s mind, a whisper in his thoughts that would not be silenced. His handgun gripped tightly in his hand, his breathing calm and collected. A steady breath in, and steady breath out. Beside him, a young woman stood in her early twenties. Still a child in his eyes. His child.

A part of Leon hated how this had come to be. His daughter standing as his partner in the D.S.O. He never wanted her to have a life like he did, he wanted her to branch off to explore something else, another passion. Something safe. But, much to his dismay, she trained and rose the ranks as he did. Many people often said how proud he must be of her. And he was, every little accomplishment of hers, he valued, he celebrated. Every failure, he was there to offer comfort.

He could not have asked for a finer daughter than his precious [Name].

She stayed by his side, waiting for his order. The team they had supposed to meet were slaughtered by an unknown B.O.W, something powerful. It tore through their men, splattering blood all over the corridors, limbs left behind feet away from their bodies. Fear and horror etched into the faces of dead men. It made Leon’s stomach churn that he had to bring his daughter into this. That one day, it may be her face on the floor, etched with such fear over empty, lifeless eyes.

Leon would ensure that it would never come to that. As long as he still had breath in his lungs and blood in his veins, he would protect her at all costs. Even if it meant putting himself in the firing line. He promised himself that the moment he first held her in his arms, when those eyes looked up at him and he saw such light in them that even the sun itself could be jealous of.

Shaking his head a little, Leon peered through the archway of a door and felt his breath hitch a little. Inside the room were containers secured to the wall ahead of them, filled with vials, each labelled with a serial number and a letter. These were viruses. Each and every one of them.

“Oh my God...” [Name] spoke softly, her eyes wide with disbelief as they both walked inside carefully. Her eyes trying to process just how many vials there were there. “If any of these get into the streets...” Her voice trailed off, the idea of these viruses being released to the public made her shudder. How many would die? Even with every ounce of help, there was not a chance this could be stopped. Looking around, [Name] wasted no time in rushing over to the computer system, looking over the information. Whatever manufacturer this was, there was a chance there must be an way to destroy the samples here.

Her fingers dancing along the keyboard, searching for anything of use before getting ready to destroy the samples, Leon staying close to cover her as she did. This all felt too.... easy. That irritating worry gnawed away more now,

“Okay, I think I got it.” A low whirring hum of machinery was made as a series of mechanical arms began to move, row, by row, the samples were destroyed. [Name] turned to face her father, a warm smile on her lips, a sense of pride in her eyes. Leon’s lips twitched to mirror that smile until he heard something. A clicking sound. It was soft at first, like a clock ticking.

Leon’s eyes widened in horror, realising the source of the ticking. Before he could even get a word out, a booming explosion burst forward, pulsing through the room with a powerful force, sending them flying into opposite directions. Leon crashed into a wall with a painful thud, his head smacking the wall hard and everything went black for a moment.

The sun spilled through the curtains of the hospital room, pouring over one bed and one bed only. Anxiety knotted away at Leon as he slowly approached, the doctor closing the door behind him, giving Leon some space. His wife sat there, a bright yet tired smile on her face, small beads of sweat trickling down her skin but she didn’t care.

In her arms was a bundled blanket, wrapped around the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes upon. Their daughter.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” His wife asked, looking between him and their baby. Leon was speechless. No words could pass his lips as he simply looked at their baby. He sat down beside the bed. In all his life, he never imagined he would be a father. All the horror in his life, all the terrors he has witnessed and overcome, each a trial in its own way. All for this moment here.

“She’s more than that.” He finally spoke, his voice so soft he almost didn’t recognise it himself. Slowly, his wife held the bundle towards him, and he almost refused. Worried that if he touched her, he might hurt her. The mere idea of anything awful befalling her made his chest tighten.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, [Name]. I swear it.” He whispered, pressing his lips on her forehead gently.

Thick smoke and the walls seemed to mix together for him for a moment, making it difficult to determine where he was looking. The back of his head felt slightly damp, with a shaky hand, he reached over and touched it, wincing at the shot of pain that came from the contact. Blood. All sounds around him were distant, far away as if he was underwater. There was something beeping somewhere, a vibrant red-light flashing but was clouded by the smoke. That must have been from the machine.

Turning his head upwards a bit, he blinked the stars from his vision away to see the containment unit of the virus destroyed. Vials scattered about. Some shattered while some remained intact. Before his mind could wander elsewhere, a heavy thudding sound was heard, like footsteps, though they weren’t coming in his direction. They were moving away from him.

Soft, pained sobbing caught his attention, sending a sharp shard of panic through his body, lighting up every fibre of his being. Beyond a fallen piece of machinery, Leon could just see [Name]’s hair, her body seeming to be trapped under a large piece of rubble. Panic surged through his body, gathering what little strength he had left as he tried to push himself up. He had to protect her.

His legs were weak, shaky, but he moved forward. Adrenaline pumping through his veins as he grabbed his gun, his eyes locked on the thing approaching his daughter. The B.O.W. A large, hulking form twice the size of him, dark purple veins covering its entire body as they seemed to glow almost, its body twisted to a point it was almost unrecognisable as one being human.

It tore the rubble off her like nothing, staring down at [Name]’s body as she tried to move back, tried to crawl away from him. The metal shard in her leg kept her in place, blood seeping below her.

“Get the fuck away from my daughter!” Leon shouted, unleashing a flurry of bullets at the bioweapon, rage boiling within him, scorching his veins. The bullets seemed to almost bounce off the bioweapon’s thick skin, as it turned its head away from her and looked at Leon. Still, he held his ground, even as the bioweapon charged at him, raising its arm and striking his side, sending him flying through the air and crashing into the wall. A sharp snap was heard and a searing pain burned his back. His vision spun lightly, his mind processing the pulsing agony in his spine.

“D-Dad!” [Name]’s voice was off to the side somewhere, thick with fear and concern that made his heart twist with discomfort. But he couldn’t move. His legs refused to obey him, his muscles heavy as he laid there, panting shallow breaths. His right hand still twitched, still responded to some degree. A vial, undamaged, rolled off the shelf and towards him. Leon looked at it, he watched the blackened liquid inside it swill and flow lightly, his mind focusing on one thought only. Carefully, his fingers reached out towards it, the tips brushing against the cold casing before he was able to grab it and pull it into his hand properly.

He made a vow that day that he would do anything to protect his daughter. Even if it cost him everything.

[Name] coughed, trying to push herself up again as she winced, looking up towards the bioweapon as it stood in front of her. Its eyes gazing down at her like she was nothing, an ant to be crushed beneath its foot. Tears welled in her eyes and she couldn��t help but tremble as a small, scared sob left her lips. It smiled at her before it took another step towards her but stopped.

A strong force shook the ground below them before something pierced through the bioweapon from behind, latching a powerful grip enough to lift the creature into the air and slam it into the ground, making the floor crackle widely. Among the smoke and flames, [Name] saw something pinning the bioweapon down, a large, thick bladed tail swinging around the creature as it yanked the end from the bioweapon. Savage, twisted snarls left its throat as it slammed the monster into the ground again, a sickening split heard as the skull split open, spilling the contents of its head out onto the floor. But that didn’t stop it. It slammed the head again, and again, and again until there was nothing left but a mess of gore and piece of bones.

Once satisfied with its carnage, the creature tossed the carcass aside before it turned to her. Fear coursed through her as she saw it approach her, yet, it was quickly snuffed out and replaced with a suffocating dread as light finally hit its face. Her eyes widened as more small tears trickled down her cheeks.

“Dad...?” Among the blood on its face, beyond the grotesque mutations that corrupted its body, twisting it to almost beyond recognition, she saw those eyes. The locks of hair that still remained in place, if not damp by blood. A low chitter was heard, mandibles on the sides of its jaws opening up slowly, dripping with saliva as it looked at the girl. The savageness in those eyes shimmered violently and yet there was something else behind it, some flicker of humanity that was fighting to remain present, to not be overcome and consumed by the virus.

“[Na....me]....” The vocals chords shifted, trying to form the word as if it was alien to it. But the eyes gave it away. Carefully, she shifted around to face it- no, her father- more and tried to stand up, ignoring the burning pain in her leg.

“Y-Yeah, it’s me.... dad.” Her hand reached out slowly towards him, a light tremble shaking it as she did despite her best efforts. He looked at her hand before another rumble left his throat, the tail shaking lightly as it came back into view, the end twisted like a scorpion's sting almost. The sight of it dripping in blood and gore made her stomach churn but she pushed it down, keeping her eyes on her father. Slowly, her arms rose up and she wrapped them around his neck, pulling herself against him in a hug.

“I-It’s okay, dad... I-It’s going to be okay.”

In truth, [Name] was not sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

#leon kennedy #infected leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #monster leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #infinite darkness leon #leon kennedy infected #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #resident evil vendetta #dad leon kennedy

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sweaterkittensahoy · 3 months

Note

Hello!

Just saw your post about prompts… 👀

If you’re interested, I’ve been dying for a very particular Buck/Bucky fic, where, during the interrogation scene, the officer has Gale brought in to try and get answers out of Buck ✨

Im a sucker for the extreme angsty stuff, but other than that, I’ll leave the prompt broad and up to your interpretation!

Thank you! ♥️

(This went more "two Steve McQueens fight a couple nazis" and less "oh god why must I watch you be hurt" but I hope you enjoy! Personally, I think Buck's likely the shithouse crazy one of them when it comes down to it, and Bucky just tags along when it happens.)

[cw: blood mention]

After several minutes of going back and forth, the interrogator questioning and Bucky replying over and over with his name, rank, and serial number, the interrogator pauses, then says, "Well, let us try something else."

Bucky expects the man to stand up and threaten him. Instead, he pushes a button on his desk. There's a buzzing outside the office.

Bucky expects guards and guns, maybe a fight. He keeps his seat even as the door opens, ready to spring up if needed but trying to hold himself in check.

There's two sets of footsteps, and then Bucky looks to his left where they stop.

It's a guard, all right. And next to him, still in his uniform, is Buck. He's bruised and busted, though not as badly as Bucky. He's standing at ease, like he's not shocked to see Bucky.

But Buck looks not shocked to people who don't know him a lot of the time. Bucky, though, he can read that face like his favorite book. And Buck's face is stoic, but there's mayhem in his eyes.

"John Egan," Buck says, and Bucky leans forward, ready to go, "What took you so long?"

"Well, I had to come back from London, you know," Bucky replies. "Told you you should have come with."

"Maybe next time I will," Buck says. He licks the corner of his mouth where there's a spot of blood. He looks at the interrogator. "I suppose I'm here for a reason."

The interrogator smiles thinly. He rests on his desk and waves at the guard, who takes two steps back.

Stupid, Bucky thinks. Absolutely and fantastically stupid.

"Major Egan is not being forthcoming," the interrogator says. "And you have also not been forthcoming, Major Cleven."

"Attaboy," Bucky says in his most obnoxious drawl. It makes the interrogator glare at him. Perfect.

"If you think showing me Egan's alive is going to be make me cooperate with you, you're wrong," Buck says, cool as you please. He scratches his wrist. The guard behind him doesn't even twitch. Bucky catches the way Buck's hand doesn't fully uncurl when he drops it to his side again.

"What he said," Bucky adds.

"You Americans and your confidence," the interrogator says, looking like he wants to spit. "Always so certain you can't be stopped."

Bucky shrugs and slouches further in his chair. He finishes his cigarette, stares at the interrogator, and flicks the butt to the floor. The man's nostrils flare. "Buck, when we're out of here, I'm taking you dancing."

"You can try," Buck says, and Bucky moves at the same moment Buck does, grabbing the interrogator by the throat and snatching the letter opener off of the desk. He stabs him through the jugular, holding him up as he bleeds all over his pristine uniform.

He lays the interrogator on the floor and glances at Bucky. The guard's down, too. His neck slashed clean across. There's a razor blade with fabric wrapped around the dull side next to him.

"How'd you get a razor blade?" Bucky asks as he takes the interrogator's gun and knife and searches through his pockets. He finds money and a gold watch.

"They made me scrub their bathrooms," Buck says. "I think it was meant to emasculate me. I found it in the wastebasket."

"They didn't search you?" Bucky asks. He walks to the door and presses his ear to it. There's no noise outside.

"They're undisciplined," Buck says. "Not lazy or dumb, but undisciplined."

Bucky reads between the lines. It won't be easy or simple to get out of here, but the men here won't be expecting a fight. "It's quiet out there," he says.

Buck walks up next to Bucky and hands him a box of ammunition. He tucks two folders into his jacket, then tucks another two into Bucky's. They all have a large stamp on the front that seems to imply importance. "Where's your sheepskin?"

"Traded it out," Bucky says. "You hated it."

Buck stares at him for a moment, then pulls him in and kisses him. "You ever fly without it again, I'll shoot you down myself."

Bucky kisses back. "I'm telling Marge you paused my heroic rescue to kiss me like a bad movie."

"I'm telling Marge you were dumb enough to get captured," Buck replies. He pulls Bucky into a quick hug that Bucky happily returns. "Ready?" Buck asks, holding up the knife he's stolen. His gun's tucked into his waistband so he can grab the doorknob.

Bucky stands behind him, the knife in his right, the gun in his left. The box of ammunition in his pocket makes him feel lucky. The sharp concentration and determination in Buck's eyes makes him feel sure. "Let's get the hell out of here."

#masters of the air #egancleven #buckybuck #bucksquared #fic #fic prompt #bucky egan #buck cleven

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literary-illuminati · 11 months

Text

Book Review 26 – Pale Lights by ErraticErrata

Okay technically this is a web serial, not a book – you can find it here – but a) it’s divided into ‘books’ and the first one recently finished, b) I’ve read like 350,000 words of it at this point and c) I want to talk about it a bit.

So, Pale Lights is a fantasy adventure story, set in a world where some prehistoric cataclysm left humanity living in a truly vast (multi-continental) cavern beneath the earth, full of old gods and devils and a darkness that will sink into you if you go too long without exposing yourself to the Glare of light spilling down from various openings in the firmament (and potentially stored in a variety of magic devices). It stars Tristain, a conman and gutter rat who accidentally killed the wrong man, and Angharad, a minor noblewoman fleeing assassins after the slaughter of her family, as they flee their enemies into the theoretical safety of the Watch, a sovereign military order that might get you killed hunting down rogue devils but is more than powerful enough to offer amnesty to all its recruits and force everyone else to go along with it. Specifically they both try to join through the fastest and most guaranteed method there is – survive and pass the trials on the Dominion of Lost Things, and your spot among their ranks is totally assured.

As you might expect, this doesn’t exactly go according to plan for either of them.

The plot’s sufficiently full of twists and detours that I’m not going to bother trying to give any sort of detailed synopsis, but one incredibly endearing thing about the whole serial is that it’s structured around these three deadly trials intended to test one’s mettle and worthiness, and absolutely none of them go according to plan. Which, speaking as someone who is generally left pretty annoyed by stories where the entire plot is ‘and then the protagonist surpassed the entirely artifical problems an outside authority put in front of them, meeting expectations perfectly!’, I really did greatly enjoy.

The plot was also just satisfyingly and surprisingly brutal – EE’s previous gargantuan serial was explicitly (though increasingly theoretically as it went on) YA, and made plot armour an explicit part of the setting’s metaphysics. Pale Light is...very much that. There were several points where it felt like at least one named, fleshed out character with their own arc was dying horribly every chapter. Bracing! Relatedly, and necessary for that, the cast is big, into the dozens of fleshed out characters the plot leaves behind and goes back to whenever they’re relevant or on screen again. Which is the sort of indulgence you can get away with in a web serial. (I’ve actually seen a lot of people complain that the cast was too large or hard to keep to track of. Those people are weak.)

Speaking of characters – the supporting cast is great, and a decent number of them are well-drawn and earnestly compelling, but a story like this really lives or dies on the strength of its protagonists. And I’d say Pale Lights passes that test with flying colours – Tristain and Angharad are both more than strong enough to carry a story on their own, but jumping between them lets the story have a lot of fun with their biases and what they assume or overlook, and their (very different and often wildly misinformed) perspectives on each other, their goals, and the supporting cast are just a joy. EE’s always had a real talent for internal monologue and character voice (even in my least-favorite bits of A Practical Guide to Evil, Cat’s perspective was a consistent delight), and being able to consistently jump between and develop two here really makes them shine.

The fact that they’re both a) actually adults, b) morally dubious and c) incredibly devoted to a particular sense of morality and ethics that’s minimum 30 degrees off anything conventionally ‘good’ helps a lot, too. Tristain my beloved shameless vendetta-obsessed will-knife-anyone-but-his-closest-friends-without-a-second-thought gutter rat.

It’s actually really quite interesting how, despite one being a chivalry-obsessed bravo whose word is her bond and so finesses her oaths and promises like a mobbed up lawyer and the other being a street criminal second story man with a sideline in poisons, they’re both really incredibly defined by a fixation on loyalty and vengeance.

The setting is interesting, though the narrative does sometimes feel a bit like it’s straining under the weight of all the weirdness piled onto it, with the whole ‘everyone’s underground and 90% of light is artificial’ thing. The various gods are all interestingly eldritch, especially Tristain and Angharad’s patrons (Fortuna probably my third favourite character in the whole thing overall), the devils and lemures and monsters are all fucked up and horrifying in a really fun way, and the magic is appropriately occult-seeming.

I’m not sure if it’s good or bad, exactly, but I do find the utter shamelessness with which EE copies real world cultures to create fantasy counterparts kind of endearing? I really can’t overstate how incredibly obvious it is that, like, ‘this empire is based on the Aztecs. They border this feudal mess based on India, and this league of Republics based on China. The main city the story launched from is Venice. The big creepy cursed academy is called the Scholomance. The treaty with the devils binding them not to eat people is called the Iscariot Accord. Die mad about it.” Gives the whole thing a real tabletop RPG setting vibe, honestly.

Anyway, can’t really say to what degree my attachment to this was built from the Stockholm Syndrome of following it week-to-week, but probably one of my favourite stories read this year, and eagerly looking forward to book 2.

#book review #pale lights #erraticerrata #sff #web serial

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befuddled-calico-whump · 5 months

Text

while the team managed to band together and escape, there was another prisoner in the compound they were never even aware of.

T$$ Military AU Summary ///// AU Masterlist

A civilian contractor specializing in covert operations, Sahota was caught spying in Ebarus and taken to the same compound as Joy, Jericho, and the others. He's able to weather a lot, and has escaped similar situations over the course of his career, but months of interrogation and the aftermath of several failed escape attempts have left him injured and weakened.

As his role within the army is a strict secret, even after rescue he's unable to prove he's on their side, and the military treats him with an extreme amount of caution, suspicious that he's a spy for Ebarus that was planted in the compound. Immediately after being brought to base, he's put right into another interrogation room by paranoid officials.

In a state of panic after being taken away just to be questioned again, Sahota is only able to answer with the name, rank, and fake serial number of his cover identity. Normally, this information would've been stored in a database so that he'd at the very least be identified as another soldier, but after being missing for so long, his handler gave up on him and deleted his files.

This makes him look even more suspicious, so he's detained and continuously questioned.

J&J, who were the ones to find him and return him to the base, feel really shitty about this, and do what they can to help him out. Jericho makes it his personal mission to clear his name so he can start to actually recover from his ordeal.

(when the compound was stormed by J&J's battalion, Sahota was in the middle of a session. His interrogators just chained him up in a maintenance closet and bounced)

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violet-prism-creatively , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight

#t$$ sahota #t$$ military au #military whump #spy whump #interrogation whump #tw starvation #beaten #torture #he's slightly off model but i think it's because his face is thinner #whump art #whumpy art #im apparently on a mission to make this man as miserable as i can

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grox-empire · 5 months

Note

Sorry for bugging with questions again, but I was curious about two unrelated things about your daybreak grox fellows. I may or may not have gotten a tad inspired, I will say.

What is the typical naming scheme of grox? When looking up the three names I recalled off the top of my head, 2/3 were greek, and I was unsure if that was coincidence or intentional. Is there a limit of length or syllables within a name? Are surnames present? Code names? Are fodder grox addressed by name or by some form of serial code?

Is there a specific style to the the cybernetics that grox have? Are there any design taboos regarding those? Are limbs able to be designed to be plug-n-play, or are all artificial parts permanent?

Thank you for your time, and I do apologize if the paragraph worth of questions was a bit much. I just find the world you’ve created to be facinating, and want to learn more.

The whole greek naming thing was wholly unintentional. I mostly just choose Grox names based on what I feel fits them, And a lot of those names just so happened to be greek because I liked them. In earlier drafts I did attempt to stick to the scheme but ran out of names INCREDIBLY quickly, and also realized it made no sense. But there is in-universe reasoning for their names! A grox typically chooses their name themself (like in Epsilon's case) or it is chosen by their Progenitor(s) (In Altair's case.) Celeste is a special case... She's trans! She had another name (Which I can't say because 1. I would feel bad deadnaming her even though she is a fictional character and 2. It's a spoiler) but chose "Celeste" herself. A name is seen as a form of privilege, That unfortunately, Lower-class grox don't often get. Fodder grox are addressed by serial numbers, Whereas higher ranking grox do have serial numbers, but they are typically "cleaner" and addressed by name instead. Epsilon's full serial number is ZYG-NTL-ZV005-1568945-EX-540169-062T1R1661, Usually shortened to EX-540169 when he is being addressed. Decoded, This would mean: ZYG-NTL = Zygote Natal, The company that owns the nursery he was created in. ZV005 = Facility 005 on Zuvius-9. 1568945 = 1,568,945th Batch produced by Facility 005 EX = Expendable 540169 = His personal serial number and what he's most commonly reffered to as by higher-ups 062T1R1661 = Date of creation. Which can be further decoded as such: 0.62/1 | R1661 A.E (Born 62% of the way into third 1 of rotation 1661, After Erebus. Would put his birthday sometime in late june to mid july.) (This would make him a cancer and that is hilarious to me for reasons that only my friend group knows but that's besides the point) Grox have a fucked up date system i'm probably going to go into on another post.

No, Not really! Most artificial parts are permanent, Attached directly to the nervous system. Grox are a near perfect balance between biological and inorganic, If you were to dissect one you would see a near perfect entanglement of organs and mechanical bits. Even a young, seemingly fully organic grox kitten born with all parts intact would be biomechanical- Nanobots build their internal cybernetics as they're developing. Most fodder soldiers and other low-ranking grox have fairly unspecialized cybernetics, While higher ones will often have ones made for practical (Like Altair's arm, Which (I don't convey this very well) has a hand that is able to be swapped out for a gun) or purely decorative purposes (like the gold-colored claws seen on Gula). The style of a grox's cybernetics depends largely on the manufacturer and planet they live on. Rather predictably, As a result, Grox culture is focused heavily on body modification. There are huge underground markets where even fodder soldiers are able to get some, But these are often seized. The sunrise rebellion has all of these restrictions lifted, They tend to paint or modify their cybernetics as a form of protest. One final tidbit: Both a mostly organic, intact grox with only internal cybernetics and chestplate and a grox that has had their body almost wholly replaced by cybernetics are seen as being of high status.

Not need to be sorry for these questions! I love answering them :)

#Grox answers #spore #spore 2008 #worldbuilding #daybreak tag

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girlactionfigure · 1 year

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RIGHTEOUS AMONG THE NATIONS—Here is America's only soldier to ever receive Israel’s highest honor conferred on non-Jews who risked their lives to save Jews during the Holocaust. On this day 77 years ago, facing the threat of immediate execution, he and his men displayed an act of courage and character that exemplifies what it means to take a stand against evil. US Army Master Sergeant Roddie Edmonds, 422nd Infantry Regiment, 106th Infantry Division, the “Golden Lions”, was captured by German forces at the onset of the Battle of the Bulge. A native of Knoxville, TN, Edmonds was 25 years old. He had only been on the front line for five days when his unit was overrun.Edmonds' captors marched him east where he was transferred to Stalag IX-A, a camp for enlisted personnel just east of Bonn, Germany. As the senior noncommissioned officer at the camp, Edmonds found himself responsible for 1,275 American POWs.On January 27, 1945, the Camp Commandant ordered Edmonds to assemble all the Jewish-American soldiers so they could be separated from the other prisoners. Defiantly, Edmonds assembled all 1,275 American POWs.Furious, the German commandant walked quickly up to Edmonds, placed a pistol against Edmonds' forehead, and demanded that he identify the Jewish soldiers within the ranks.Edmonds, a keen and dedicated Baptist, responded sternly, "We are all Jews here."Edmonds then warned the commandant that if he wanted to shoot the Jews, he'd have to shoot everyone, and that if he harmed any of Edmonds' men, the commandant would be prosecuted for war crimes when Germany lost. Edmonds then recited that the Geneva Conventions required POWs to give only their name, rank, and serial number, not their religion.The commandant backed down.Edmonds' actions are credited with saving 200 Jewish-American soldiers from being murdered. He survived 100 days of captivity, and returned home after the war, but kept the event at the POW camp to himself. He never told anyone. Edmonds later served in Korea.It was only after Edmonds’ death in 1985 and the review of his diaries by his son that his story came to light. Jewish-American POWs, including Sonny Fox who after the war became an executive with NBC. He verified the story as did other POWs who were glad to share. The State of Israel declared Edmonds “Righteous Among the Nations” in 2015.Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day. As we pause to remember the 6 million Jews and 11 million others murdered at the hand of their captors, we also commend all Allied Veterans who helped bring the tyranny of the Third Reich to an end. Master Sergeant Edmonds and the 1,275 American soldiers who stood defiantly with him on this day were a part of that story. We are the benefactors, and we pause to give our thanks. All The Way and more.

Photo, courtesy of Yad Vashem: World Holocaust Center, Jerusalem, The Jewish Foundation for the Righteous and The Rev. Chris Edmonds.

WWII Airborne Demonstration Team

Source: facebook.com

#WeRemember #WeShareToRemember #holocaust #onthisday #neveragain #HolocaustMemorialDay #HolocaustRemembranceDay

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bakawitch · 7 months

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i love ghosts i love crime (stories), telll us more! :D

Well, lucky for you, this wip actually contains two separate crime stories! And just in time for Halloween too! XD

Sometimes, when I'm writing random scene ideas, I get a sudden idea surge for a completely separate fic, so I quickly jot those down in the same document before I could forget them. Not the most ideal organising, but it sort of works 🙃

So! Story number 1:

tw: death, cause y'know. ghosts.

Here For The Boos

This one is more ghost than crime, but the other part of this wip is more crime than ghosts. This fic is primarily puzzleshipping (that's a first for me lol) and there's also some tendershipping and eclipse on the side.

Yugi inherits an old rural house in Kyoto from his grandfather after he tragically passed away inside it. Due to having some financial difficulties and running out of options, he has to move into the house, leaving his old life behind. It doesn't take him long to realise that there is something wrong with the house; the light bulbs keep flickering no matter how many times he changes them, doors slide open by themselves, the house always smells like it's burning, he can always see something lingering behind him just out of the corner of his eye, but disappearing as soon as he turns around to get a better look. And there's also banging and screaming coming out of the basement at night, which probably should have been a dead giveaway.

Not having the option of moving out, Yugi decides to investigate. He sets up cameras, capturing a few odd things, scatters around a few religious symbols, discovering that they all rust away or get destroyed under a single night and he also locates a mysterious black spot behind a closet where the smell of smoke is the strongest.

Leaving the basement for last, Yugi ventures in at night when he knows the noises would be loudest. After waiting in silence for awhile he gets jumped by a black shadow which seems really keen on clawing him to bits, but just before Yugi's arms would give out he gets pulled out from under the shadow and of the basement by a mysterious force.

After this experience, Yugi does some research about the house and comes across Mura (Yami Malik), a self-proclaimed medium, by chance who offers to help Yugi hold a séance. Yugi invites two of the friends he's made in Kyoto, Malik and Ryou, and the four of them hold a seance in the room with the burn mark.

Throughout the event they discover that the house is inhabited by two spirits, an investigator and a thief. Due to some strange interference in the house Mura can't invite either of the spirits to possess him, but they do manage to communicate with the investigator through knocks. They manage to find out that it was the investigator that saved Yugi from the basement and that both him and the thief died in the house fire that was started by the thief as far as he knows, but he doesn’t remember his death very clearly.

Yugi does more historical research and he finds two names that seem to have stopped making appearances in records at the same time. Rurikawa Yami the son of the local lord who was a high ranking officer and a local bandit that went by the name of Touzokou. Yugi takes the risk and tries to contact Yami by himself with more information about his past in hopes of figuring out what truly happened in the house all those decades ago.

This is where the story is now (albeit in bits and missing chapters).

Onto story number 2:

Cat And Mouse

tw again: murder, death

So this one is a messed up little clashshipping crime au fic where the killer and the detective are both equally aware of who the other is and they meet up and stuff, they just don't say that they know what the others intentions are.

Malak Ishtar (Yami Malik) is a morally dubious homicide detective who works in Domino, but it's been awhile since he's taken an interest in a case. That was until a serial killer made his entrance into the crime scene. One so brutal and sadistic that it immediately made Malak want to catch them himself. The press dubbed them the Puzzle Killer, after the puzzling states his crime scenes has been discovered, almost appearing like the aftermath of a twisted game session.

While tailing one of the suspects, Malak bumps into an intriguing man who surprisingly holds many of the same ideologies as he does. After introducing themselves Malak finds out that the stranger is Dr Yami Muto, a rather esteemed psychiatrist in the business. They have a long chat, but after they part ways so Malak can keep following his mark, he finds the suspect brutally slain in a public bathroom. More puzzled than ever, Malak starts to put together all the odd things Yami said and grows suspicious of him.

Without any proof, he decides to pursue Yami as a suspect in his own time under the guise of friendly get-togethers, which slowly evolve into something more.

And this one, I actually have a quick excerpt for:

He looks back at Yami only briefly, noticing the strikingly calm demeanour that was radiating of him. "What's your doctor profession? Surgery? Pediatrics?", inquiries continued on for the other, deciding to take a seat on the subway seat. "You either must have a lot of patience or you must be enjoying yourself."

It's a half witted joke on Malak's part, something to ease the conversation rather than the intensifying atmisohere.

"Psychiatry, actually. But I can't say you're wrong about the last part." He smiles back at Malak, laughing a little, never actually clarifying which statement the other man was right about.

"If you think about it, this is a bit like an impromptu social experiment." The doctor explains, motioning around the wagon with an open hand with a certain eagerness in his movements. "All these people from different demographics trapped in a small enclosed space for an undetermined amount of time with possibly limited resources isn't something you'd get to observe every day."

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