#alternative prompt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

melanie-ohara · 4 months

Text

In The Woods Somewhere

Whumpuary2024, Day 05 - (Alt) Prompt: Stabbed

Something in Sabine's burgeoning connection to the Force draws her out to the woods just as the Peridean sun rises…

AO3 Here

Sabine jolted awake and sat bolt upright in her bunk with a gasp. The lights in the room were turned low and the chronometer told her there were a couple of hours to go before dawn, so she slumped back against the pillows and tried to figure out what it was that had woken her. It could have been a dream, but since Mandalore she never remembered her dreams, and she had a distinct image of a forest in the rain still in her mind. It didn't look like anywhere she knew, but the trees looked distinctly Peridean to her. When they had been on the Ghost together, Ezra had visions through the Force - but they were strong and overwhelmed him while he was awake. There was something, though. Some strange pull she felt that coaxed her out of her bed and out of the ship. Ignoring it just made it stronger, so she sighed and got up.

Ahsoka was probably already awake, so she didn't bother moving quietly when she left in full armour, carrying both blasters and lightsaber. Shin and her bandits hadn't appeared for weeks now, but they were still out there - along with wild Howlers and probably countless other predator species - and it paid to travel prepared. Sabine hopped down from the idling T6 into the Noti camp below it, and made her way to the edge, aiming for the tree line in the distance. Her plan was to walk until it started raining, and then look for a place that matched her vision, but she was still wary: their slow pursuit of Baylan Skoll had skirted around the trees so far, and from what she had managed to decode of the Noti language, they feared the forests as much as the ancient Nightsister ruins. 'The domain of betrayal', if her translation was right. Still, the Noti were pacifists, and Sabine had weapons and armour that far outstripped anything the locals had access to.

The rain started and the pull got stronger. Ahsoka had told her so often to surrender to the Force when she felt it, but Sabine still found herself trying to resist it: trying to guide herself to a destination she would never find without the help of the Force. It was the Mandalorian in her, determined to make her own way, and while she still hadn't decided the path she wanted her life to take, right now she needed Jedi instincts to find whatever was out there. Something about the pull had changed now - it felt urgent. Desperate, even. Something in the dark between the trees was calling out to her like a distress call. Sabine paused, shut her eyes and took a deep breath, and waited until she could stop second-guessing herself and follow her instincts. When she opened them again, she was already walking.

When she next glanced up from the ground, placing her feet to avoid a series of knotted roots, what she saw in front of her lined up so immediately with the image from her dream that Sabine almost fell over in surprise. At the exact same moment, the tug at her guts disappeared like a cut cord, and she was left standing alone and unsure in the darkness and the rain. Outside the forest, the sun would have risen by now, but under the canopy there was barely enough light to see.

"Hello?" she called, but received no answer. The trees absorbed her voice before the echo could get very far. She doubted anyone would hear her over the rain.

Sabine tried to place her trust in the Force and took a few steps forwards, but when her gut instinct insisted she was going the wrong way, she couldn't help turning back. And there, slumped against a rock between two trees, was Shin Hati. Her hair was starting to grow out and she had pinned it back behind her head, and her clothes and armour had been adapted and added to with bandit equipment, but it was definitely her.

Caution dictated she draw a weapon and approach slowly- after all, Shin was a deadly assailant who had spent their entire time on Peridea trying to kill her. It could be a trap. Sabine dimly recognised that after she had started running towards her, and by the time she had crashed to her knees in the mud by Shin's still form all of her weapons were still clipped to her belt.

"Shin?" she demanded, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking. "Shin, wake up!"

Why did she care? Why was there a roiling, sinking sensation, like a battleship going down, churning through her guts? Why was Shin not moving? Her hair was plastered to her face, which looked even paler than usual, and when Sabine lifted her eyelids she found her eyes rolled back into her head. Her pulse was thready and unstable, but it was there. She wasn't dead, but she was dying.

Sabine glanced down, and saw that Shin Hati had been stabbed.

This wasn't the neat, perfectly circular mark of a lightsaber blade - like the one Shin had given her when they first met - this was a messy, jagged incision that left blood and severed skin behind rather than a perfectly cauterised scar. A lightsaber, even in the hands of whatever Shin and Baylan were, was a Jedi weapon first and foremost, and killing was a last resort. This had to have been a bandit weapon.

A soft cough turned Sabine's attention back to Shin's face, where she saw the briefest flicker of her eyelids. Her throat worked to swallow, and Sabine tried to shake her again.

"Wake up, blast it!" she growled, but Shin remained silent. "Karabast," she muttered, reaching into her armour pouch for a bacta spray and unclipped the cover from the nozzle. "Don't blame me when you're not ready for this," she said, and pressed the tip against the wound in her stomach.

Shin's eyes shot open and she screamed as the bacta started to knit severed veins back together and stem the bleeding. The sound wrenched at Sabine's heart as much as it did her ears, and she gripped Shin's shoulder with her free hand to try and soothe her.

"I know, I know," she said, concentrating on running the device all the way around the rough edges of the wound. "It stings, I know."

Sabine had been unfortunate enough to learn a lot of battlefield medicine during the war, and she knew when someone wasn't going to make it without a full bacta immersion. She didn't know if there was a full-scale tank on the T6, but the alternative was that Shin Hati would die out here, from a wound inflicted by her own allies. 'The domain of betrayal' wasn't a myth after all.

"I have to get you to the ship," Sabine said, trying to sound reassuring and not let on that she wasn't sure that would save her either. The helmet made her sound insincere so she took it off with one hand, scrabbling for a bacta patch with the other. There was no way it would heal Shin's slashed organs or repair her internal bleeding, but it might seal the initial flesh wound enough for Sabine to carry her. She wished she had brought Mirshko the Howler with her, but there was no point thinking about it now.

"Sabine?" Shin's voice was a thin whine that Sabine barely heard over the rain.

"It's me," she said, lifting the tattered remains of Shin's bloodstained robe to press the patch to her skin. The wound was so big the strip barely covered it, but at least the infusion had stopped the more severe bleeding. "You can murder me once I save your life, okay?"

"Took… lightsaber," Shin managed. Her eyes opened for a moment, and a lump rose in Sabine's throat as she saw how bloodshot they were. A second later they closed again, and Sabine worried she had been too late.

"Shin?!" she shouted, and the other woman stirred very slightly.

"It's a trap," she said. "They're… they're coming."

Sabine's blood ran cold.

#wolfwren #sabine x shin #sabine named her howler courage in mando'a #whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno3 #alternative prompt #stabbed #fanfic #writing #star wars #shin hati #sabine wren #peridea #post canon

31 notes · View notes

jamietarttsnorthernattitude · 7 months

Text

Jamie has a nightmare at an away match and Declan comforts him.

For the alternative prompt: shaking.

Read on ao3

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ao3 #jamie tartt fanfiction #whumptober #declan cockburn #i just love this gif so much #and them #locker room besties #whumptober2023 #fic #alternative prompt #shaking

51 notes · View notes

riahlynn101 · 7 months

Text

Whumptober: Day Eight - Alternative Prompt: "Shaking."

Trigger warnings: Implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, and major character death.

Please, ignore that this is three hours later than usual.

Word count: 1,430

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when Mike can’t force himself to sleep. He wanders out of his room and down the hall. All the way to his….

He stares at the off-white door. Garrett’s name is still printed across the top in red letters (“red is my favorite color, because it reminds me of you.” Mike never understood what his brother meant by that, and now he never would). He hesitates, hand on the door knob.

Mike takes a quick glance towards his parents’ room. His mom and dad wouldn’t be happy to see him up so late (they don’t seem happy to see him ever. Not after…), but their door is shut and all the lights look to be off.

His heart is beating fast in his chest. Not out of fear. He’s been in here so many times. The room is practically his safe haven from a world that has changed so much since his brother went missing.

Mike closes the door behind himself, quickly and quietly just in case his parents decide to mosey down the hallway. The room smells clean. Unlived in. It feels wrong. His brother was naturally tidy, but this….

Mike swallows down his anxieties and lays on the tiny twin-bed. Once upon a time, this bed belonged to him. It’s funny how time works.

He lays on his back, closing his eyes. It’s hard now, almost two years later, to remember the sound of his brother’s voice. It shouldn’t be. Mike had been twelve. Not three. He should be able to keep the memory of Garrett in his head. So many people told him before, during, and after the “funeral” (which was pointless, because he’s sure his brother is out there somewhere. Alive and well and healthy and…and…) that Garrett will forever remain in his heart. He hated that. He hated it so much. Especially when the memories he holds so dear are starting to leave him. It feels like his brother’s leaving for a second time.

“.......Mike…….”

His eyes shoot open. He sits up, looking around the room. Everything seems to be in place. His mom liked to clean the room every so often to prevent dust and mildew.

“Mikey…..” the voice says again.

He scrambles out of bed, heart resuming its previous task of beating against his ribcage. “Gar-Garrett…?” He whispers into the darkness of the room. “Where…where are you?”

“Follow my voice,” his brother tells him, and Mike would know (even if it’s almost entirely faded from his memory) Garrett’s voice from anywhere.

He wanders out of the room, not even bothering to check if his parents are up. Mike has more important things to do.

“I miss you, Mikey,” his brother murmurs, voice drifting down the hallway. He follows it without a second thought.

“I miss you too.”

Mike is led down the stairs and towards the front door. He pauses in the doorway. It’s the dead of winter, and bitterly cold outside. And he only has a tee-shirt and pajama pants on.

“Mike…?” His little brother asks, voice somewhere outside.

“I…I can’t go outside. It’s too cold.”

“But Mike,” Garrett whines, “I want to play with you.”

“Let me grab a-”

“Please.”

Maybe it isn’t that cold outside. And as long as he isn’t out for a long time, it’ll probably be okay.

“Okay,” Mike gives in, stepping through the threshold. He closes the door behind him.

“Yay!” His brother cheers.

“Where are we going?” Mike asks, starting to trek down the icy driveway. He crosses his arms to stay warm.

“That’s a surprise.”

They walk for a while until Mike can’t bear the cold anymore. “I…I think I need to go home. It’s too cold out here.”

“But I want to play with you.”

“I-I kn-know, but…but my fe-feet and hands are starting to r-r-really hurt. I…I d-d-don’t think it’s s-s-safe to-to be out here.” He vaguely remembers hearing on the news that the temperatures were supposed to drop to dangerous levels.

“Please,” his brother begs. “I miss you a lot.”

“I…I’m c-c-cold,” Mike gets out between chattering teeth.

“You’re almost there.”

Against his better judgment, MIke nods, ignoring the pain radiating from all of his extremities. “O–okay.”

He’s led to a small diner. It looks old and abandoned. The lights are all turned off, and there’s a ‘closed’ sign in the front window that has several layers of dust on it.

“Wh-where are w-w-we….” Mike stutters, mind slowing down.

His brother doesn’t answer, but the padlock on the chain around the front door falls away. Not wanting to stay in the cold a minute longer, Mike lunges at the doors. He has to force them open, as they either haven’t been used in a long, long time, or the below-zero temperatures have frozen them together.

The diner is warmer, but just barely. It’s obvious no one has been here in years. “Hello…?” He calls out. “Garrett?”

But no one answers him.

Mike shivers, teeth still chattering together. “Garrett? Where are you?” He goes deeper into the restaurant, hoping (at the very least) it might warm him up.

He passes a small stage. There’s two spots where it's obvious something heavy stood for a long time.

Mike yawns, drowsy. “Garrett?”

“Almost there, Mike,” his little brother calls to him. “I’m in the backroom.”

Nodding, Mike stumbles his way down the hall and over to a large metal door. The words: Parts and Services are labeled across the top in big, blocky letters. He opens the door.

The inside of the room is somehow colder than the rest of the restaurant. Mike’s shivering becomes even more evident. “G-Gar-Garrett…?”

A sudden clatter to his right makes Mike jump. He throws his arms up, ready to attack whoever or whatever made the noise. The movement almost throws him off balance.

An old bear animatronic sits in the furthest corner. One of its eyes has been torn out and wires protrude from the socket. It also only has one ear, the other one reduced to bits of metal and wires. Its costume is tattered and dirty, and if Mike squints he swears he can see dark stains around the thing’s mouth.

All the alarm bells should be going off in his head, but the feeling of wanting to curl up and sleep is starting to become harder to ignore. He stumbles closer, staggering from side to side. His feet and hands are almost numb, but his teeth continue to chatter together.

“You found me!” His little brother cheers. The voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere near the suit, but when Mike looks, there’s no one there.

“Wh-where…?” Mike slurs his words, almost falling when he takes a step forward.

“Right here.”

“I-I d-don’t see you.”

“In the suit.”

“Oh,” he says, like that’s normal.

“Come sit next to me. I’m sure you’re very tired.”

Instead of answering, Mike finds himself wobbling the last few steps over to the broken down animatronic. He falls to his knees next to it, arms still wrapped around himself. Mike curls into a ball next to it, the back of his head resting against its leg.

“Goodnight, big brother,” his little brother says.

Mike murmurs a response, but it comes out garbled and incoherent.

It doesn’t take long for sleep to claim him.

-x-x-x-

William stomps down the hallway. His security cameras alerted him-two hours later-of someone entering the diner. Probably a squatter or a very brave (or foolish) teenager. Though, according to the grainy footage, they haven’t left yet (unless they did so while William was away from his monitor).

He checked the entirety of the restaurant. Under tables, behind the counters, in the kitchen, and even the bathrooms. So, there’s only one more place they can hide.

He slams open the door to the backroom.

In the corner of the room, Fredbear, noticeably powered up, stares at him. Cradled in its arms is likely the person who broke in.

For a second, William just stands there. “Who is that?” He asks, like Fredbear is actually going to answer him.

The animatronic bear huffs, joints creaking as it tightens its hold on the person’s body. William laughs. He comes closer. His eyes sweep across the body.

A young boy, either a preteen or in his very early teens. The boy looks almost angelic nestled in Fredbear’s arms. A few of his dark curls have fallen onto his face, contrasting with his unnaturally pale skin.

William’s heart stops.

His entire world screeches to a halt.

Because the boy in Fredbear’s arms is……

“Michael….?”

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #alternative prompt #“Shaking.”#mike schmidt #garrett schmidt #fnaf william afton #Michael afton #fnaf movie #tw implied kidnapping #tw major character death #cross posted on ao3

35 notes · View notes

oneweirdbookaddict · 6 months

Text

Whumptober day 16!

Alternative prompt- aftermath of failure. Not focused on one character, each one gets a little focus.

799 words

Warnings for thoughts of failure, some mild language, and arguing. Let me know if there should be more!

~~~~

They stand together, watching the town burn.

“We… failed.” Wind says quietly.

“Yes.” Wars says softly, putting a hand on Wind’s shoulder. “But we’ll try again.”

“There is no ‘again!’ We failed! We’re done for, we messed it all up, there’s no trying again!” Legend snaps angrily, shoving Wars away.

“Legend,” He says gently. “It’s not-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Captain, we failed!”

“Failure is not fatal, it’s the courage to continue that counts.” Four quotes, looking at the ground.

Twi offers a small smile. “Exactly. We can try again-”

“No we can’t! We just screwed up everything! All our efforts, the things we got… we can’t just get all that back! I’m with Legend on this one- we’re screwed.” Wild says, surprising the others.

“Wild-”

“Don’t! I’ve been dead before, I think I know what being screwed is like! This is it- this! There’s no redo, no healing shrine, no coming back- we’re done!”

“But we know what we did wrong, we can fix it, try again before it’s too late.” Hyrule tries, looking around them. “We can fix our mistakes! We know what went wrong now, we were unprepared before but-”

“And we have less stuff, less weapons, less potions, less stamina, we’re tired and injured- you think we’ll succeed? Really?”

“I never said try again right this second-”

“It doesn’t matter when! It doesn’t change our circumstances!” Wild shouts, face flushing.

“We have more knowledge! We can change tactics, strategy, we now know what we’re up against-” Four argues, still trying for civility.

“And we still have nothing! Our stuff is gone, our weapons and armor are gone, we’ll all die if we try to face this thing without our weapons! Are you dumb?!” Wild snaps, interrupting. Annoyance flickers over Four’s face.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Sky says, shooting the champion a warning look.

At the same time, Time steps in with a scowl. “Enough! This argument is going nowhere!”

Wild takes a slow breath, trying to calm himself.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Four… I’m sorry.”

The smith looks away, crossing his arms.

Wild sighs. “This is what happened when the calamity struck the first time. We failed. We couldn’t get… we didn’t even get to the castle. I had the master sword and that was it. Nothing else. I died. I know failure- we need to regroup, find a different way. We can’t just try again the same way we failed.”

“I think Four’s trying to say it won’t be the same if we try again- we learned from our mistakes, so let’s stop wasting time and go fix them.” Sky offers.

Legend huffs. “Let’s take a moment, let us rest, heal up, see what we can do before-”

“The sooner we get this over with, the less people suffer. We take a day for ourselves, who knows how many die because of us?” Twi says grimly.

Sky looks at the ground at that.

“What do you think, Old Man?” Legend says after a tense moment, glancing at their unofficial leader.

Time glances at each of them, breathing a slow sigh. “I’ve seen the face of failure and understand where each of you come from. Whatever the group decides is how we’ll go. I’m rather impartial.”

“How did we fail? What… what went wrong?” Wind whispers, shaking his head.

“A lot of things, Sailor.” Wars says gently. “We didn’t know what we were up against. We underestimated our enemy. It won’t happen again.”

Time gives a slow sigh, hand moving to the sailor’s shoulder. “I’ve made mistakes in the past. Our ability to make the best of our outcome defines us, not this failure now. We have to fix it. To continue on. Even though it's hard.”

“But… they’ll hate us. We failed them.” Wind whispers.

“Then fix it. Make it up to them.”

“People died because of us.”

“Not because of us. Because of him. That thing attacked those people, Wind, not us.” Hyrule says softly.

“But… we failed to stop him.”

“That doesn’t mean we killed those people.” The traveler says, and Wind’s eyes well up.

“We might as well have.”

“No, no, sailor, no. I know it feels awful, I feel terrible too, but… if that thing had never done this, then we wouldn’t have failed. We messed up, yes, but we didn’t kill those people.” Sky says, looking Wind in the eye.

The sailor finally gives a small nod, looking at the ground. Gives a tiny sniffle.

“I don’t like feeling like this again.” Wild says quietly, shaking his head as silence falls over them.

Legend takes a slow breath, looking up at them. Slowly meets each of their eyes, determination in his eyes as he picks up the hilt of his shattered sword.

“Then let’s make it right.”

~~~~

26 notes · View notes

writingmyheartsout · 7 months

Text

First, i've been down for a little and wasn't able to produce anything, even if I had and still have so many ideas.

Anyway, it's officially October and i wanna do ..or try to.. some whumptober prompts in the form of visual moodboards and.. here's the first one.

Now i know i didn't play the game at all but, I assure you, I'm watching every gameplay I'm finding around and...i know the whole ascended story but..let's say I took some creative freedom... <3

whumptober day 1: alternative prompt betrayal...

----

You knew something like was gonna happen, deep down you knew it was just a matter of time, even if you were still hopeful for something else...something maybe pure like both you deserved the most.

But this wasn't the case and you weren't that lucky anyway.

He even asked him to join him, to be his ...in a way.. but you felt betrayed ...sort of

Even if all his actions were just a mere lie, you knew that now, just lies to keep you on the edge but never actually made you fall. Always close but never that close.

But now it was worse and, maybe, for a second you really thought you could fall, making things easier but you couldn't, you would never even if you were aware he would probably come for you...to claim you back or worse...to kill you.

----

Anyway...i actually made two so here's the other one

and..probably something isn't right about him but i so wanted to create something that I just went and did it.

i'm deeply sorry if it doesn't make sense, tried to keep it generic anyway.

----

12 notes · View notes

graygiantess · 6 months

Text

Who needs sleep when you can make Armand and young Daniel get up to no good with a naughty toy? Not me!

Boy Meets Toy (Explicit)

Prompts: 'Toys' and 'How does it feel'.

Featuring: Armand, young Daniel and a very big [redacted]

@vampirefest

#vfkinktober2023 #day 14 #toys #alternative prompt #how does it feel #armandaniel #armand/daniel #armand #daniel molloy #Devil's Minion Era #IWTV AMC #IWTV fic

12 notes · View notes

logicgunn · 11 months

Text

domaystic +1: stop the car, now!

On AO3

Written for @domaystic

“Stop the car, now!” yells John.

Rodney slams on the breaks. “What?!"

“Where the hell did you learn to drive, Rodney?”

“Alberta, Canada. Why?”

“Do they teach you to speed over deep chasms at a hundred mph in Alberta, Canada?”

“It's an off-road vehicle John. Chasms are to be expected. I thought you were military?”

“I’m Air Force. You’re thinking Army.”

“Well, can your Air Force sensibilities handle a weekend of rough terrain?”

“Rough terrain is a-okay, buddy, but can we keep all four wheels on the ground?”

“Sure. But I should warn you there’s a river crossing ahead.”

“Jesus.”

#domaystic2023 #day+1 #alternative prompt #stop the car now #stargate atlantis #mcshep #drabble #31 days #32 prompts #this was fun!

17 notes · View notes

granny-griffin · 6 months

Text

hi guys! I wasn’t going to write for whumptober. and yet. here I am

#whumptober2023 #alternative prompt #hunting #bnha #fanfic #blood #injury #a generally creepy atmosphere #darkness #my fanworks #salt and light #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bk&dk

7 notes · View notes

aboutdoramas · 1 year

Text

#kdramawomensweek - Day 5: Can I Handle the Seasons of My Life? (Prompt from 2022)

✦ Ha No Ra - Twenty Again

#kdramawomensweek #choi ji woo #twenty again #kdrama #kdramaedit #i was not inspired to make a top 10 sorry #alternative prompt

23 notes · View notes

kybercrystals94 · 6 months

Text

If You Need to Talk

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023 | Day 21 | Alternative Prompt: Body Modification

Rating: G

Words: 717

Summary: Echo is processing how much his life is changed now that he’s back.

“I can help with that.”

Echo startles and looks up. Tech is standing in the doorway. How long has the commando been standing there, just watching as Echo tries to recalibrate his scomp with his left hand? Burning embarrassment creeps up the back of Echo’s neck and across his cheeks.

“No need,” he says, almost gruffly, “I’m almost done anyway.”

Tech steps into the room, eyeing the sprawl of tools Echo has been using to poke and prod his artificial limb. “I see,” Tech says, expression dubious. “Well, should you need assistance in the future, I hope you will allow me to offer my expertise on the subject. I am, after all, an engineer.”

Echo gnaws on the inside of his cheek. He hasn’t even been with Clone Force 99 a full rotation yet, and the awkward phase of his integration is still in full swing. He’s faced it before, when he joined the 501st after the disaster of Rishi Outpost; however, that had been entirely different, having Fives by his side.

Now, he is alone with a squad of deviant clones who mistrusted him a majority of the time they’ve known him (although that changed drastically after Anaxes, thank the force), along with having to become used to a mutilated body with an entirely new set of rules concerning its upkeep… all without his kriffing dominate hand.

Echo forces down the emotions of despair and self-loathing that eagerly rise to the occasion. “Actually, then, if you wouldn’t mind having a look at it…”

He earns a faint but genuine smile from the goggled clone. “It is no trouble,” Tech says, and sits down next to Echo at the table. “What seems to be the issue?”

“The joint feels tight…limited movement,” Echo explains, pointing to the area his right elbow used to be. “And I noticed my scomp attachment is not reacting like it was before…”

“You were electrocuted, I am not surprised the attachment will need to be recalibrated,” Tech interrupts. Not unkindly, simply removing the need for Echo to explain himself. Tech starts to reach for his arm but hesitates. “May I?”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Echo says, shifting to make the offending appendage more accessible.

Tech sets to work, narrating the process as he goes. He explains each issue in detail, and then provides a detailed solution. “While it is advantageous that I understand the matter, it is vital that you understand. After all, it is your body. It must not be an easy adjustment…coming back as a cyborg.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Echo says, trying to keep his sarcasm in check.

Tech hums acknowledgment. “Would it be helpful to your mental and emotional wellbeing to discuss it?” he asks.

The question catches Echo off guard. “What?”

Tech meets his eye, pausing his work. “If you need to talk, I am more than capable of providing a listening ear, as it were.”

Honestly, Echo does want to talk about it. Everything since he fell out of that stasis chamber has felt like a lucid dream, one he will wake up from. Fives will be shaking his shoulders, the warmth of his breath on Echo’s face as he says in a voice all too loud, “Wake up, sleepy head! You’re wasting daylight!”

And even though his right hand has been gone for months, it feels like only moments ago it closed over the curve of Fives’ shoulder, grasped the grip of his favorite blaster, held a hand of cards during a game of sabaac.

He wants to tell Tech how much he misses the feeling of the ship rumbling beneath his feet, not the rattling of prosthetics against his thighs. Or how even his insides feel heavy and thick where machine now gives his body function. How he hates the feeling of air movement on his bare scalp where his hair used to be.

He wants to say all of this and more, out loud, into the universe. Into the recycled air of his new home, into the listening ears of his new squad.

He wants to. He wants to so badly it catches like a painful lump in his throat. But he swallows it all back. Instead, he says, “I’m fine.”

Even if it is absolutely the furthest thing from the truth.

END

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list!✨

#Whumptober 2023 #Day 21 #Alternative Prompt #Body Modification #Star Wars The Clone Wars #Star Wars The Bad Batch #Star Wars #The Clone Wars #The Bad Batch #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #tbb echo #tbb tech #Echo needs a hug #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

53 notes · View notes

ice-cap-k · 6 months

Text

xB Noir in Hybrid Theory

Not me trying to turn what should be a multi-chapter fic into a one-shot because I don't have time to commit to a long-form fic. I would never...

Oh well. My sleep schedule is already toast anyway.

Cross-posted on AO3 here: xB Noir in Hybrid Theory

_____________________________________________

The rain pressed down an unrelenting torrent that pooled in the roads and left rivulets running down the window pane. Nobody in their right mind would walk these streets in this weather. It was downright dreary out there. The kind of downpour that soaked through your best coats and set the chill in your bones after only a few steps. Its constant pitter-patter was pleasant on the ears.

And there I was, watching the storm through my office window when they decided to pay me a visit. The single bare bulb was more than enough to cast light on the two figures I saw approaching. They were skirting the edge of the building, trying their darndest to avoid what they could of the rain. Unlucky souls, to be out in that mess. At first I thought nothing of it. Just another couple unlucky enough to be caught in the rain on their way home. But then they slipped into a familiar doorway and the bell chimed. I had customers.

The two who stumbled through my office door that day were quite the pair. The woman threw open the door first. The rain hadn’t seemed to have done much to dampen a fire burning in the depth of her eyes. Bright as the orange of her hair poking out from beneath the brim of her hat. All it took was one look at her to know that she had come here meaning business.

Her partner didn’t hold a candle to her in comparison. His suit was disheveled and his eyes roamed the room behind his spectacles like an animal caught in a trap.

“We’re here to speak to a Detective xB.” Her voice was clipped. Self-assured. I could make out a little disdain as those fiery eyes raked over my measly office. What can I say, it was a mess. I was in between cases at the moment and most of the paperwork had been laid bare to be sorted out later. Or maybe she didn’t approve of how small it was, although I never needed much room for anything more than my desk, a few filing cabinets, and myself.

“That’s my name on the door. At your service, Miss…” I wasn’t sitting, so I offered up my chair for her to sit on. There was only one, so her partner would have to make do.

“Cleo. No miss. We’re all adults here.” She slips into the chair without so much as a blink. Those eyes are staring me down. Scrutinizing my every move as I set down the drink in my hand down on the corner of my desk. “And this is Joe.” The other man in the room tipped his hat before sliding behind the back of her chair. Fingertips rest against the leather backing. They’re twitchy. His eyes looked everywhere except at me. He struck me as the nervous kind, this Joe. Like a tinker toy wound up too tight, ready to pop into motion the moment you let go of the key.

Even his voice comes out sounding strained. “We were told that you were good at-”

��We were told-” Cleo cut him off. “That you were good at your job. From a handful of sources, actually. So we thought we’d meet you firsthand.” There was an edge to her voice. A fine line of scathing disbelief lurking beneath her words, made evident by the tilt of her brow. “You see, Detective, we’ve got something on our hands that requires a certain level of trust. Considering how highly recommended you were, we decided to come here first. But before we disclose anything about the potential case, we need to know how much we can trust you. Do you understand?”

“I think that’s a fair request.” I rounded the file cabinets, and prepared to pull out logs on previous cases. They must have heard about me from one of my previous customers, after all. Advertising for the local paper was out of my budget range. The business survived on word of mouth and good customer service alone. “I could go over some of my previous cases and some of my methods if you like.”

“Not that, actually.” Joe finally stopped his fidgeting and looked at me, really looked at me, as he took the hat off his head. “Although I’m sure that you have a perfectly fine track record. We’re talking about sensitive information. Can you be trusted with it?”

“Joe-” The angry hiss in the woman’s voice was not lost on me when the gentleman cut her off.

“No Cleo.” My hand dropped from the handle of the file cabinet. I was too engrossed in the power struggle between the two of them through exchanged looks. If I were to bet on the winner, my money would have been on redhead with the withering glare. To Joe’s credit, despite how uncomfortable he seemed to be at the thought of disagreeing with her, he gripped the rim of his fedora and buckled down. “I trust Beef. I have a really good feeling about this and I don’t like taking chances with our time.”

Now that was a name I hadn’t heard for a while. The last time I’d seen him had to have been the game shop case years ago. “You know Beef?”

“He’s a friend of ours,” Cleo huffed. She was glaring daggers at Joe, who had stepped away from her chair to put some distance between the two of them. “And it’s not a risk that’s yours to take, Joe.”

“No, but the longer we wait, the worse I feel about the situation. I’m worried sick.”

“Well so am I.”

They both fall silent.

I’m reluctant to intrude, but they don’t seem interested in starting back up the conversation. “So I gather it was Beef that sent you my way…” I spoke slowly, afraid I might startle them, or invite their wrath. “I don’t know what you folks’ situation is, but I can assure you that I am a professional. Beef can testify to this. Confidentiality is part of the reason I’m still in business. More information is valuable for understanding a case, but if there is something that you feel you can’t tell me, there’s no problem leaving out the finer details.”

They both exchanged a look. This time, when they made eye contact the frustration fizzled out. It was more of a shared look of helplessness. “It’s a pretty important detail,” Joe said, his voice so quiet I almost couldn’t hear.

Cleo looked like she wanted to argue, but eventually relented with a tired sigh. “Alright. Alright. I’ll leave out some of the finer details and give you a rundown on what we would like to hire you for. If I decide you’re worth the money, we’ll tell you everything. If I don’t, we move on with our lives like none of this ever happened. How does that sound?”

I nodded. It was perfectly reasonable. Joe was nodding as well. He looked relieved as he sidled back up to his place behind her chair. The fedora in his hands looked hampered from the abuse his nervous fidgeting had wrought upon it.

“Glad we are in agreement.”

“So,” I prompted, leaning back until I was seated upon the corner of my desk. The mountain of papers beneath me threatened to come down in an avalanche of black and white print, but I could manage to keep the balance. Other than that, they had my full attention. I was downright intrigued. A case where the client didn’t feel comfortable kicking it off was new. Usually, people were chomping at the bit to tell me about the problems and how they needed him to fix it. So I leaned in as she folded her gloved hands in the lap of her pencil skirt.

“So indeed. Tell me, Detective, have you heard any of the stories on the recent disappearances?”

“You mean the hybrids?”

“Yes. The hybrids. How much do you know about them?”

“Only what they print in the papers.” It was a story that hadn’t quite made the cover, but had appeared in multiple journals across town. ‘Local Mutants Gone Missing.’ An influx of missing person reports had been made with one notable similarity; everyone reported had been some sort of hybrid. The kind of hybrid didn’t seem to matter. All sorts were going missing. Everything he read on it had boiled down to a general consensus: that nobody in the police department had an explanation. “What about you?”

“To start, I know that our friend is one of the names on the list of missing persons. And when I tried going to the police, they brushed it off.” She scowled at the memory. “Told me that I couldn’t file a report on him since he was an adult who had every right to go off the grid if he wanted to, except I know for a fact that he wouldn’t do that.”

“I see. So you need someone like me to find him?”

It seemed simple enough. I had run more cases than I could count tracking people down for one reason or another. They were usually the harder puzzles to crack. If someone was able to cover their tracks so completely that even their friends and loved ones were left scratching their heads, it would be difficult to look for places nobody else had thought to check. And if it was a matter of kidnapping, that added an extra layer of potential risks.

“I need you to find the people who took him and find out why. Gather evidence. Bring him back if possible, but if you can’t then at least get me something that will make the police believe us.”

“And preferably report back your findings as you go.” Joe chimed in. “To us, I mean. Maybe not anyone else. Actually, nobody else. Just in case. We need to know anything you might find out about these guys. Where they are, who they are, what they are, how you found out all of it... Everything.”

Usually, my customers didn’t care about the details of his work, so long as by the end of the day he dug up the information they were looking for. “That sounds like you’ll need a pretty thorough report. To be clear, I’m going to need as much information as you can give me on your friend if I’m going to find him. I’m talking about his name, the names of the people in his life, where he lives, where he works, where he frequents. And just to be clear, that means information on you two as well.” Joe nodded along as I listed everything off. Cleo frowned, but there was a grim understanding in the way her lips tightened into a thin line. “I’d understand if that doesn’t suit your fancy. I can try to work with whatever you’re willing to give me, but any fact you choose to leave out could make a world of difference. Any detective out there worth his salt will tell you the exact same thing.”

Joe reached over to nudge her shoulder. “See Cleo.”

“And will any other detective out there worth his salt risk leaking sensitive information on his clients.” Her tone made me smile. She’s softened a bit since she first walked in. There’s still that air of warning, that look of scrutiny, but now there was room to be convinced.

“I’m pretty good at keeping secrets. Beef could probably attest to that. Selling out potential customers never struck me as a good business model.”

The odd pair shared a look, then a nod. It seemed like they were on the same page. “Alright. What I am about to tell you stays strictly confidential,” she says. “Nothing I’m about to say from here on out leaves this room. Afterward, you can decide if you’re interested in the job or not. If I find out later that you’ve told someone else, I swear I will personally come for you.”

I didn’t plan on sharing whatever they planned on telling me anyway, but the way that fire in her eyes turned on me… I don’t know why, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she had a way of making good on the promise. But I waved it off like no big deal. “Cross my heart.”

She still didn’t look fully convinced. “To start, the friend we are looking for, his name is Bdubs. He is part phantom, although you’d never know by looking at him. He’s really good about staying on top of his sleeping habits, so that side of him never really comes out. I brought a picture if that helps.”

I snatched up a pen and pad from under a pile of papers. This was all good information to keep track of. The picture she handed me depicted a man with the biggest, most genuine smile I had ever seen. By all means, he really did look human. It would be enough to do some cross-reference searches and dig up any information I could get on my own.

“The thing is, Bdubs didn’t really broadcast his hybrid status, but someone still found out. However, that information became known to his kidnappers is pretty important to me and Joe here. Almost as important as making sure he’s alright. Which is why I said we would need you to report all of your findings and how you found out.”

“And may I ask why that information is particularly important to the two of you?”

Joe opened his mouth to say something, but Cleo answered first. “Oh, it’s mostly just important to me.” With a roll of her shoulders, her coat slipped down her arms to reveal lines of long thin scars puckered and discolored where mismatched flesh had been sown together. Some skin patches were even starting to green with early onset rot. It surprisingly didn’t smell as unpleasant as it looked. “I’m an unregistered zombie hybrid. If they could somehow manage to find Bdubs, I’m worried that it won’t take them long to find me next.”

______________________________________________________

“xB! Hey man!”

“Hey bud, it’s been a while.”

Hypno was waiting for me at the bar with the leatherback stool already pulled out. The sun was setting, the birds were chirping, and people were out enjoying their evening anywhere other than this dank old bar. But to me and Hypno, it was the perfect meeting place. Just as enjoyable as the fresh air outside. Our old stomping ground when we were younger.

“Sorry about keeping things so short on the phone. I’m glad you could make it out here.”

“No problem, dude.” I could tell by the smile on his face that he meant those words. He looked as happy to see me as I was to see him. “It’s been too long since you’re last call. I was starting to think you didn’t need me anymore.”

“No man.” The bartender walked by, and I held up two fingers. They spotted my signal and slid two fresh glasses down the countertop. They both came to rest directly in front of us. “You know I’ll always go to you first about cases. I’ve just been going through a bit of a dry spell. Haven’t had a new job in a while. I couldn’t pass up a chance to get to the bottom of this one in particular. You’ve heard what’s happening to the hybrids around town, right?” The pop of a new bottle opening punctuates the end of my sentence. The two glasses are filled with a clatter of ice and a level of translucent brown.

Hypno grabs his first. He always was the bigger drinker of the two of us. “Heard of it? Pfft. It’s all the gossip column is talking about these days. Not that there’s anything more they’re allowed to put to print yet. It’s all wild speculation right now. One guy I’m working with is convinced the hybrids aren’t even disappearing.”

“And what’s the alternative?”

“Not sure. He never goes into detail when I ask.”

“What about you?”

He laughed at that one. “What about me, dude?”

“Do you have any thoughts on what’s happening? Why hybrids? Why so many, and all different types? I have a few of my own ideas, but I’m curious about what you think.”

“I don’t know. There are a lot of reasons why people would be interested in hybrids. Seems like there are always going to be people out there who think that just because hybrids aren’t human, that means they aren’t people either. They can do all sorts of things normal people can’t, and you can’t rule out those crazies that are always coming up with some hair-brained remedies made with ‘exotic ingredients.’ Or exotic pets… ew. You know what? Scratch that thought. I hate that my brain even went there. What about you and your new client? Any running theories.”

Of course, I had my theories. And Cleo had made it clear her running theory was ‘kidnapping’ even if she didn’t have a clue what could possibly be the reason behind it. Under normal circumstances, I would have happily shared some of these thoughts with the man at his side. It was Hypno, of all people. He was practically my partner considering how often he helped me with investigations. But Cleo and Joe had been clear about the need for confidentiality.

“It’s too early to rule out anything right now.”

“Darn.” He didn’t sound all that disappointed. “By the way, here’s the pictures you asked for.”

The manilla envelope he slides my way is bulging. Stacks of them come sliding out when I slide the flap open. “I didn’t realize there were this many people missing.” Static faces stared up at the overhanging light fixture from the waxy printout. Some of them looked like your average human like Bdubs had. Unassuming smiles and eyes that gave no indication of the truth of the person behind them. Most, though, had some clear indication of what they were. They wore oddly colored eyes, extra limbs, and discolored skin that almost looked like the result of some camera defect rather than something they lived with on the daily. There were blazes, creepers, avians, even an enderian. That one had to have caused problems for any ‘would-be’ kidnappers. The names of the victims were scribbled on the back of each photo, along with the phone number of the person who had submitted it. Presumably, the person who had reported them missing.

“This is just what I can get at my job. Working for the tabloids has its perks, but there are plenty of people on the list that didn’t get a photo submitted. Some of ‘em didn’t have people left in their lives to report them or send in photos. There’s a few that had family members who outright refused to send in photos.”

“Really?”

“Really. You should have heard them over the phone. They didn’t want their friends or family found. Talking to those people was the worst.”

“Sounds like it. Thanks, Hypno. This is a huge help. I can start building a background on some of these people and see if they have anything in common.”

Hypno smirked. I had known the man for years, so I knew when a Hypno smirk is just a smirk, and when a Hypo smirk meant business. Right then, he meant business. “Think I can help you there too, man.” I lifted my brow, but Hypno knew he had me hooked. He relished in it, making me wait as he raised his glass to his mouth. I took a sip of my own drink as I waited for him to drain his glass. “Aaaaah.” Clank. He brought the glass down onto the counter with a clatter. The bartender promptly filled it back up. “I’m a journalist, B. You know I do my research. What if I told you I already did some digging?”

“You have a lead?”

“I have a place.”

“How?”

“Same way you would eventually find out,” he said with a shrug. I asked as many people as I could about the people in those photos. Their favorite places to go, where they worked, where they lived, the whole spiel. You know the one.”

I nodded. Of course I did. I was the one who taught it to him.

“Well, the more I asked around, the more one place in particular popped up in people’s backstories. Ever visit Hermit Row?”

I shook my head. The place didn’t ring a bell to me.

“No shame in that. I didn’t know about it either, but that’s because the two of us are human. Apparently, the street is the biggest hub of hybrid activity in the city. Think along the lines of a Chinatown. Even if the people in those pictures didn’t live there, they had all visited at one point or another. It’s one of the few places in town with shops catering to a variety of non-human needs. Sounds to me like the perfect place for any potential kidnapper to scope out someone to grab. It’s actually going to be the subject of my latest article now that I’ve had a chance to learn a bit about it.”

And there it was. That was what the sudden smugness was all about. It made sense that Hypno had another angle he was looking to write into a story for the papers. “I can’t report back details of the investigation if I go there. You realize this, right?”

The smile dropped off Hypno’s face. “Come on, man. I literally just gave you everything we have at the press on the Hybrid story. Is it really that bad to give me a little insider scoop?”

“My client is very adamant about the need for privacy. I’ll let you know about any general observations I might happen to make, but anything that pertains directly to the case is off the table.”

He sighed in annoyance. “Fine, I guess I can work with that.”

_________________________________________________________

I know I’m not the biggest partier around the block, but even I knew that brass knuckles weren’t part of the dress code for your average bouncer. And weren’t bouncers supposed to stand guard at the front of an establishment?

It had taken a week to investigate Hermit Row. Learning the ins and outs of the residents. Picking up on some of the familiar faces of the hybrids who frequented and getting a feel for the shops lining the street. I didn’t even stick out like a sore thumb like I was afraid I would. Other people walked the streets in broad daylight looking completely human like me. There was no way to know for sure they were actually human, but at least nobody stared at me like an oddball out of place as long as I minded my own business.

The street was awe-inspiring to me. At least somewhat. They had shops for things I would never have thought to dream of. Storefronts selling horn and hoof polish targeting sheep and ram hybrids had displays painstakingly set up in their large windows. Wing grooming salons advertising the latest toiletries had their doors open for incoming customers. Even the food stalls with their owners crying out their wares carried everything from charcoal to fresh grass bundles. And yes, the owners of said stalls insisted their products were intended to be eaten. I suppose I had never put much thought into whether or not hybrids would subsist on a different diet than me.

But there were few places where most of the people who looked like normal humans tended to frequent. Especially late at night. One of those places happened to be ‘Club EX.’ To the untrained eye, it was your typical late-night dance club, complete with a jazz band and under-the-table sales of alcohol. You’re typical hole-in-the-wall people frequented to forget the rest of the world.

But after a few nights of careful observation, it became clear that there was something else going on here. Odd back door dealings where workers met with important-looking customers and led them to back rooms to discuss business of some sort. People slipping out of the back alleyway, rushing into a van left parked back there every night. I spent one night counting every person who entered the building, only to come up three people short when it came to keeping track of everyone who left. It was entirely possible I had miscounted, but unlikely.

I told Cleo and Joe about it in my last report. Went into detail about everything I noticed on Hermit Row and the club in particular. Cleo had taken the hint and steered clear of the establishment, but now I was looking for specifics. There wasn’t any easy way to sneak in on one of those private meetings with guests who came in with a large entourage and all the money in the world to burn. I could stake out the back, though, where an unusual-looking bouncer was running their thumb along the edge of the metal lining their knuckles.

He didn’t move for a while. I watched. I waited. Eventually, the back door flung open. Two figures came out into the alleyway.

One shouting nonsense hysterically. Hooves click clack against the pavement. Garbled words and sounds muffled under a black bag covering their head. They couldn’t exactly reach up to take it off, considering the knot of rope binding their arms behind their back. I could make out a tail swishing back and forth in wild panic, but it didn’t seem prehensile. It would do them no good to get them out of the bind they found themselves in.

The other person was shoving them forward harshly.

“Will you shut him up already,” the bouncer hissed at the other man passing through. “Someone’s gonna hear.”

“I already tried gagging him and look what good that did me. Why don’t you knock his lights out for me and make both our lives easier.”

“Fine.” With a snort, the bouncer reeled back and slammed his fist into the black back, directly where a cheek or nose would be. Shivers ran down my back as his target let out a muffled howl of pain. Another blow to the head, and their legs crumpled beneath them.

At that point, I wasn’t thinking to clearly. I just knew that the guy with the brass knuckles was squaring up for another hit and I didn’t have the stomach to watch no more. So I pulled the pistol out of my pocket and slid from the roof down the gutter to the ground below.

Luckily for me, I landed directly behind the second man who had come out with the man on the ground. I threw all the force I could muster into bashing the but of my gun into the back of his skull. He was instantly out like a light and dropped like a stone. The bouncer turned on me, confused and scowling. “Why don’t you pick on someone who can fight back,” I goaded.

And he took the bait, hook, line and sinker. Never mind whether or not he realized that I had a gun. There was no hesitation as he rushed at me, fist at the ready, golden glint of the knuckles catching the lamplight. The edge of his fist caught the edge of my shoulder. Pain bloomed where it crushed my muscle and tore the skin, but it was a glancing blow. With the other hand, I fired once at the ground. The bullet blew a hole in his shoe. Not sure if I took off a toe or something, but I definitely hit him, because he let out a howl that rivaled that of the man with a bag over his head. He leaned over, instinctively reaching for his wounded foot. It gave me a clear opening to slam the butt of my gun into his head too. He joined his buddy and slumped on the ground.

“Awwww yeah.” That had been surprisingly easier than expected.

A groan came from a few feet away. “Are you okay,” I called, not really sure of the man they had beaten could even hear me. His tail was still twitching, but he didn’t stir from the ground. “Here, let me try to help.” I gently pulled at the edges of the bag. The seem caught on something on the way up, and when the fabric came clear I realized it was because the threads had caught on the edge of a set of horns poking out from a head of light blond hair. The face they framed was a bit bloody. The skin below his eye was just starting to develop the purplish hue of an oncoming bruise. The bottom lip was split, leaving blood pooling around the base of a rag tied around his mouth. I managed to undo the knots on his mouth first, then got to work on his hands.

He coughed at first. Then spit to get the flecks of blood and taste of the rag out of his mouth. “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know who you are, but I could never repay you for what you just did.”

“Don’t worry about it. What was even happening? Why did they want you, uh…”

“Zedaph,” the hybrid clarified as the rope fell away from his wrists. There were nasty marks where the fibers had dug into the skin, and he rubbed at them as if it would make them go away. “My name’s Zedaph.”

“Well, do you know what they wanted with you, Zedaph? It looks like you might have made the wrong people mad.”

“Well if I did, I don’t know what I possibly could have done. I just came here looking for my friends. The last time I saw them, they had come here to celebrate some new project at work. No luck finding them, so I was heading towards the exit. Next thing I know, security is pulling me away saying there’s someone important who wanted to see me. They drag me in a room, won’t let me go as some weirdo gets a good look at me, and then next thing I know they’re tying my hands behind my back without so much as an explanation.”

“They were dragging you to that van…” I helped him up. He was still unsteady on his feet, er, hooves, but as long as he could rest his hand against my shoulder to lean on when his legs started to wobble, he could manage to walk. “One second while I take a look.”

Sure enough, the van was unlocked.

Bingo.

__________________________________________

The amount of evidence I had to report to Cleo after that had been immense. Notes of names and species crossed out on lists had been tucked away in the glove box, along with a map with a location circled along the harbor.

And guns. Turns out those men had guns of their own, and I had been lucky that they had been foolish enough to leave them in the vehicle.

Most of it had to be turned in to the police for obvious reasons, but not before I had given everything a thorough look-through. It would take the precinct officials to properly process the evidence. Even longer to get the warrants to act on it. Although Zedaph's testimonial would help to speed things along.

The sheep hybrid was the first witness to come of this. An actual hybrid that had almost been made to vanish like the others was quite the font of information. That made him valuable to the officers working on the case. It also made him a dangerous loose end for whoever was behind this. Up until now, there was no real understanding as to ‘why’ hybrids were going missing. Now that Zedaph had gotten away, all eyes and ears were on the lookout for potential snatchers. That club was currently closed for an ongoing investigation

Zedaph had at least been kind enough to tell me everything he could on the way to the station. He told me in better detail about the men who had grabbed him. How they had been human. I tried asking him if he was sure they weren’t just hybrids that looked human, he insisted he had a sense for these sorts of things. I took his word at face value.

The person whom they had brought him to, though, that was a different matter. He couldn’t really tell. There was no way to see their face. It was hidden behind a mask. Their body was fully clothed, complete with a set of gloves that covered their hands. Not even an inch of skin showed. The voice was difficult to make out considering the mask. “Possibly modulated.” Those were Zedaph’s words. Not mine.

Considering all the clues now at my disposal, I figured my next lead was the location circled on that map. I could feel it deep within my bones that there was where they had been planning on taking Zedaph. That was likely where the other hybrids had gone as well.

Again, I went at night. There were fewer workers at the dock past sundown. The boats were gone for the night. The empty warfs reached out into the water, waiting for the next fleet of ships to arrive with a load of cargo.

The harbor itself was massive. Shipping crates were stacked up along the sea’s edge, leaving temporary alleys winding between rows and rows of steel boxes.

I didn’t know where to start, so I just picked a random warehouse and started walking towards it. There wasn’t much to see there besides more crates and spare boat parts, so I kept going to the next one. And then the next one after that. And then the one after that.

Honestly, there was a lot of ground to cover here and I was already starting to get tired. I was just starting to consider calling it a night and coming back tomorrow when I heard something that sounded a little out of place for the harbor this late at night. Talking.

“Hurry up before someone sees you.”

“Lighten up, will ya? Nobody’s going to see me. There’s nobody out here but us.”

I followed the voices into the maze of stacks of shipping crates. Would they post guards at a shipping storage lot? It didn’t seem likely considering the lot didn’t even have so much as a chain link fence.

“Come on. X is looking at the merchandise tonight. They want to make sure everyone is healthy before they run the first shipment on Friday.”

“What are they going to do at the auction anyway?”

“Whatever the buyer wants ‘em for. Everyone loves hybrids for one reason or another. Not my business to find out what that reason is.”

Hybrids, huh?

It sounded like I was on the right track.

_____________________________________________________________________

I picked up a copy of the local newspaper the day after.

The front page story declared, ‘Devious Gangster Evil X Behind Hybrid Disappearances.’

The big picture they had used depicted three hybrids embracing in front of the police department. Two of them had a set of horns, though their shape and location on the skull varied between both people. The third had glowing red eyes and what looked like fire flickering at the ends of his spiked blond hair. I recognized Zedaph’s bruised face and curved horns, but not the other two men in the picture. They must have been the friends he was looking for back at Club X. I was glad that it had all ended up working out for the three of them.

Sure, I had given Hypno a quick call about what had happened to all the missing hybrids, but I never expected him to be able to work this fast. It was quite impressive actually, seeing just how detailed and accurate the article was. Hypno didn’t just work fast. He was thorough. He truly was a professional.

I tossed it across my desk for Cleo and Joe to read for themselves. “Just to be clear, I might have told a friend that I found where they were hiding everyone. I did NOT provide any details regarding you, the case, or how I found where they had been hiding them.”

Cleo picked up the paper. She was shocked. Truly shocked. She flipped each page with careful hands as if afraid of ripping it.

“You did all this?” Joe asked, leaning over her shoulder to get a look. “It wasn’t just Bdubs you saved last night… you really found all of them?”

“I did.”

“Wait a minute,” Cleo said, pulling the paper closer to her face. “It says here that Evil X wasn’t apprehended.”

“They did not.”

“So he is still at large?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. That wasn’t an answer I had at the moment, but I could probably figure it out if I had enough time. “But his entire trafficking ring was overturned in one night. And your friend is back home safe and sound. Everyone else for that matter. Maybe I’m just a glass-half-full kind of guy, but to me, that sounds like a pretty good way for things to have panned out.”

Cleo didn’t say anything. She turned back to the paper with a frown. At least Joe patted me on the back. “Why, I couldn’t agree more.”

5 notes · View notes

lilac-gold · 7 months

Text

Day 5- Omori AU Whumptober 2023

AI-less Whumptober Day 5- ALT Prompt Blackmail

@ailesswhumptober

Fandom: OMORI Rating: Teen Word Count: 2860 Summary: Basil had never expected so much of his personal life to be involved in this case. Unfortunately, Jawsum seems determined to involve even more. AO3 LINK See this post for a summary/explanation of the AU

Hero was dead.

Basil had found out through a case file, ordered to defend Hero's suspected murderer. He'd been shocked, a sort of numb devastation quickly spreading under his skin. It was cold and unwelcome, yet distant in a way, and Basil found himself numbly accepting the case.

He'd have to tell Sunny. Oh gosh, what was Sunny going to think?

It seemed impossible, the prospect that Hero could be murdered. Hero was the protector of their group before Mari died, the healer. He was the eldest, charming and well-liked and invincible. Why would anyone want to kill him?

Like ripping off a bandaid, Basil looked at the name of his client. And his heart dropped like a stone.

Because there, printed in bold, black letters, was the name Kel Montoya.

Basil couldn't breathe. It was as rough he'd been doused in freezing water, fingers trembling as his lungs fought for air, strangled wheezes rising in his throat as he desperately tried to deny what lay before him. Hero was dead, and Kel was suspected of killing him. This was all too much.

Eventually, he composed himself, feeling like he was caught in a trance as he visited the detention centre. Kel was sitting forlornly behind the glass, staring miserably at the floor with eyes red from crying. Basil couldn’t help but flinch, the reality of what had happened crashing into him again at full force. Kel was so tall now, his hair even longer than it had been when he was younger, and the look on his face was so distinctly un-Kel that it looked wrong. Kel was wrong.

But Basil knew what guilt looked like, and he knew Kel. Kel was innocent, Basil knew he was. He just had to prove it.

“Wh– Basil?!” Kel exclaimed upon first noticing him. “What are you doing here? It’s been years!”

Basil winced. Kel was right. Nearly a year had passed since Basil attained his law degree, and he and Kel had drifted apart far before that. He opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating. Then, in a sort of garbled rush, he blurted, “I’m here to defend you.”

“You…” Kel’s eyebrows rose, bloodshot brown eyes widening as they zoomed in on his badge. “You are?”

Basil nodded, uncertainly swallowing the lump in his throat. He didn’t think that Kel had killed his brother, but even so… “Kel, I– I have to know. Did you really kill him?”

Kel’s face contorted in horror and grief, and that was enough of an answer in itself. “No,” he said firmly, voice hoarse and choked. “Of course I didn’t! Hero’s– he was my brother.”

Basil panicked a little upon seeing the tears that had begun streaming down Kel’s face, fumbling for words of comfort. “I– um—”

“You’ll convince them I’m not the killer, won’t you?” Kel stared at him pleadingly. “We can’t let the person who actually did this get away with it. This was deliberate, that much is obvious. And I think– no, I know who the culprit is.”

“You do?” Basil’s face lit up with hope. That would make things far easier!

Kel nodded firmly, a sharp contrast to Basil’s earlier affirmative gesture. “It was his boss, Mr Jawsum.”

And that hope shattered. Everyone knew Jawsum, renowned as he was for having the most successful business in the city. His connections were unmatched, his confidence unwavering, and it would be impossible to catch him out. Basil wilted. If Jawsum really had killed Hero, he was going to make sure Kel got a guilty verdict. There was nothing Basil could do about it.

“Sorry, Kel,” he said softly. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to prove your innocence after all.”

“What?! Why?!” Kel shouted, fire lighting in his eyes. “We’ve got to!”

“Jawsum knows people, Kel. So many of them are scared of him,” Basil shuddered. “Besides, he’s super rich. There’s no way we can beat him.”

“Catch him out. You’re a lawyer, you’re supposed to be good at this,” Kel said firmly, eyes still blazing. “Hero knew he was suspicious, and must have discovered something big. He was Jawsum’s right hand, there’s no way Jawsum would’ve… Would’ve killed him unless he thought he had to. There’s something up here– extortion, money laundering, blackmail, I don’t know. You’ve just got to find out what.

Basil averted his eyes uneasily. He couldn’t afford to get on the bad side of a suspected blackmailer, not after what he’d done.

“Come on, Basil!” Kel cried in a mixture of frustration and anguish. “We can’t let him get away with murdering Hero!”

Basil flinched again. It wouldn’t be the first time he let someone he knew was guilty get away with killing someone.

…But then… Jawsum wasn’t Sunny, and Hero wasn’t Mari. Hero’s death was deliberate. Jawsum was corrupt. Basil had a chance to expose him. Basil wanted to expose him.

“You’re right,” he agreed quietly, fists clenching at his sides. “Hero is– was a good person. He deserves to have his killer found.”

It felt sickening, referring to Hero in the past tense. Hero was gone. Forever. Just. Like. Mari.

Once he exited the detention centre, Basil managed to procure a copy of Hero’s autopsy report. He’d been stabbed clean through with what seemed to be a fillet knife, easy enough to hide but able to do some serious damage. He’d been discovered in his apartment with Kel, who had reportedly been crying unstoppably at the scene of the crime. Basil hated thinking about it, imagining how the murder might have gone. Maybe Hero fought. Maybe he was caught off-guard. Maybe Jawsum threatened him. Whatever had happened, Basil had no way of finding out for sure, because Hero wasn’t around anymore to tell him.

Eventually, he decided to check up at Hero’s and see if he could find anything. Memories hit him softly as he walked through the house, each feeling like waves on a beach– a slow lulling that came and went, bringing something new every time. He didn’t find much until he looked inside of the attic. There was a box labelled ‘MARI’, and Basil felt sick as he opened it. Looking inside was like being hit with a wave of rancid nostalgia, burning his innards and twisting his memories until they soured even further. Slowly, he looked over Mari’s old Christmas sweater, letters and notes she’d written, photos of her. Then, his hand brushed against something large and firm, and Basil carefully pulled it out.

It was a file, red and sturdy. Curiously, Basil opened it, turning away from the box as quickly as he could. Inside was a sticky note, taped to the inside cover. It read ‘think of what she would want. Don’t fail anyone else. Do it for her’. Basil had a sinking feeling he knew exactly who the note was talking about, and something twisted in his stomach.

As he flicked through the folder, he gasped in surprise. There were pages and pages of names, of crimes, of desperate people trying to tell someone what had happened before it was too late. Basil felt cold sweat prickle at the back of his neck at the countless accounts of blackmail, threats and disappearances. He… he had to take this to the police. That was the logical thing to do.

So, as he passed by the door again, he stopped by a huge, muscled figure who wore a nametag reading ‘Detective Pluto’. Basil gulped, looking up at him and suddenly feeling very, very small as he clutched the folder to his chest. It was like he was a schoolboy again, avoiding people in the corridors and hiding with Sunny inside of the greenhouse.

“Hello!” Pluto greeted in a booming voice. “My name is Pluto!”

“Basil,” Basil greeted stiffly, shaking his hand and trying to hide his nerves. “I’m the defence for the Montoya case.”

“Ah, I see!” Pluto’s eyes lit up in recognition, then they darted towards the folder in his arms. “Hey, what’s that, young Basil?”

“It’s nothing!” He squeaked quickly, and Pluto’s gaze narrowed in suspicion.

“You know that you aren’t allowed to tamper with evidence from a crime scene,” Pluto warned, a frown overtaking his chiselled face.

“I– I know,” Basil forced out through the squeezing in his throat. “This is… Mine. From home. Just case notes, you know? Hahah, hah…”

His voice trailed off weakly, and he hurriedly scarpered, rushing away from the house. When he reached his mint green car, he sighed in relief. He spent some time catching his bearings and rereading the file. He was puzzling over how to go about things when he received a notification in his emails. Basil opened it warily, freezing when he saw who it was from. Jawsum.

It requested that he meet Jawsum in his office as soon as he could. Basil didn’t know what to do.

…This would be a good way of getting information. He didn’t have to tell Jawsum anything, but it seemed that Jawsum had something to tell him. He couldn’t suspect anything– not yet, at least– so Basil had no reason to be wary, right? What could Jawsum realistically do to him?

Okay, maybe he didn’t want an answer to that. But even if Jawsum did threaten him, Basil did not have much left to lose. He cared not about dying by that point, Hero was already dead, he’d helped string Mari’s corpse from a tree, and Kel was locked away behind a sheet of glass. He could do this. He had to. For Hero, and for Kel. For the sake of everything he’d lost, everything he’d given up.

To his surprise, Kim from his old high school was the one who directed him to Jawsum’s office. He hadn’t expected to see her again, and while they didn’t have the best relationship, it wasn’t like she hated him or anything. He allowed her to guide him, making mindless small talk as they walked past portraits of many businessmen. Basil’s heart twanged painfully at every ‘Employee of the Month’ sign, each having a smiling picture of Hero attached. Kel was right, Jawsum didn’t seem to have any immediate reason to kill him. But the file in Basil’s car suggested otherwise, and Basil was going to meet him, alone. He took a deep breath.

“Kim,” he said slowly. “If– if I… D-disappear, or anything like that… Remember this meeting.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked, perplexed.

“N-nothing,” Basil stuttered out, embarrassed. “It’s– it’s nothing.”

“If you say so,” Kim shrugged. She seemed to be doing well in her position, enjoying it a lot. Basil was happy for her. He couldn’t really say the same about his own profession. “We’re here.”

So Basil bid her farewell, and hesitantly knocked on the door. At the foreboding ‘Enter!’ that followed, he shut his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He could do this. For Hero.

He swung the door open, stepping inside and looking at Jawsum face-to-face. The man was large; tall and broad-shouldered, seeming strong and powerful. He held himself in a way that exuded importance, his suit immaculate as he offered Basil a blinding grin with too-sharp teeth. His slicked-back hair was held perfectly in place, Jawsum’s image exactly what he wanted it to be. Basil, on the other hand, felt like an anxious mess in his green suit and pink tie, hair messy from how many times he’d nervously run his hands through it.

“Ah, Parsley! I’ve been expecting you,” Jawsum greeted, acting as though he knew Basil personally. “I see you got my email.” “Yes, I did,” Basil confirmed shortly, the words jarring and stilted. “And it’s… It’s Basil. What– what did you want to talk about?”

Jawsum let out a loud, deep, unique-sounding laugh. “For a lawyer, you’re not very confident, huh? Or smart, come to think of it…” The click of a lock sounded behind him, and Basil froze like a deer in headlights. Jawsum’s terrifying grin widened. “Let’s talk business.”

“Alright,” Basil agreed, feigning indifference and cursing the way his voice shook. Hero and Mari and Kel and Aubrey were all confident, but Basil had lost them a long time ago. All he had left was Sunny. Sunny was his everything.

“As I hear it, you’ve recently come across a little… Document I’ve been searching for,” Jawsum said smoothly, and Basil could hear his heart hammering against his chest as nervous sweat beaded on his brow. “Red, leather-bound, contains a whole lot of files I don’t want anyone seeing.”

“C-can’t say I’ve heard of it,” Basil lied, his voice high and unconvincing. He’d never been a good liar. It was ridiculous how long he’d managed to keep so many huge secrets to himself. Basil got an awful feeling that he wasn’t going to be able to keep them for much longer.

“Is that so?” Jawsum laughed again, then his demeanour shifted abruptly. His black eyes bore into Basil’s pale blue ones, cold and merciless. A shiver ran down Basil’s spine. “Do you know what the secret to success is, Parsley?”

Basil shook his head. He didn’t try correcting the man that time.

“Know your enemy,” Jawsum flashed his dazzlingly white teeth again. It was not a pleasant smile. “You don’t want to be my enemy, do you, Parsley?”

“N-no, of course not!” Basil exclaimed hurriedly, clenching and unclenching his fists rapidly. He didn’t like this. Jawsum continued to stare at him, vulture-like.

“Good, good… That’s the right answer,” Jawsum nodded approvingly, and Basil breathed a short sigh of relief. He shouldn’t have come. “Because believe me, Parsley, I know all about you.”

Clearly not enough, considering the businessman couldn’t even get Basil’s name right. He frowned.

“I know your past, your friends, your secrets,” Jawsum slid open a drawer, taking from it a few sheets of paper. “Secrets that I’m sure no-one would want getting out.”

He turned one of the sheets towards him, and Basil’s heart stopped.

Because that was one of his pictures, the one he’d taken of Mari’s corpse at the bottom of the stairs. He’d been fumbling with it on the way to collect the siblings, and seeing her there made his finger slip onto the click, turning something in the meantime. It took its own photos from there. Basil should have burned them. He didn’t. He wondered if that was his way of punishing himself for what he’d done. Either way, this was terrible. “No,” he croaked out, because those photos wouldn’t just shatter his life. Oh, no. They’d destroy Sunny’s, too.

“If you don’t want me sharing these around, I suggest you listen closely,” Mr Jawsum instructed, a smug smirk on his face. Basil was hit by a sudden spike of fear and loathing. “After all, we wouldn’t want anyone knowing about how awful you and Sunny are, hm? Hanging a dead girl, making everyone believe she died by choice… It’s despicable, Parsley.”

Breathing felt more like a method of torture than a way to survive by that point, Basil’s lungs burning like they’d been filled with freezing water.

“But, nobody needs to know if you follow orders. Listen to me, and your little friend will be perfectly fine,” Jawsum said, far too jovial for the situation at hand. “What do you say, Parsley?”

Basil remembered the click of the door. There was no escape, and even if there had been, he couldn’t leave without those photos. He’d been doomed from the start. How had Jawsum even gotten them? “...Okay.”

It was Sunny or Kel.

“That’s what I like to hear! So, I want you to keep the case, but drop your investigations. As far as anyone knows, Hero Montoya was tragically murdered by his brother,” Jawsum emphasised, his voice deadly. “A shame– the kid he cared for growing up, stabbing him quite literally in the back. A real, real shame. Kel is guilty, and you’re gonna make sure it stays that way. Capisce?”

“Understood,” Basil affirmed through gritted teeth, the words acrid and sour on his tongue. Sunny or Kel.

“The kid’s already a lunatic– people’d have no trouble believing he murdered his brother. It's not hard to pull off, Parsley." Jawsum assured him lackadaisically. “One failed trial under your belt won’t make much of a difference. Hell, if your friend’s prosecuting, that’s a win for him! So, what are you going to do, Parsley?”

Sunny or Kel. “Fail the trial, sir,” Basil forced out, disgusted by himself. He was such a coward.

“That’s all I needed to hear. I’ll be holding onto these,” Jawsum added on, holding up the photos again. Basil felt bile rise in the back of his throat, resisting the urge to dive towards him and grab them. Jawsum was far, far stronger than he was. “To ensure your… Cooperation. I’m sure you understand.”

Sunny or Kel. Basil didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t a decision, not really, not when he’d spent his whole life craving affection, and all of his teenage years covering up that incident for good. But he had a choice. Sunny or Kel.

…As always, Basil chose Sunny.

#omori whump #omori fanfic #omori basil #omori kel #omori sunny #omori mr jawsum #omori hero #blackmail #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday5 #omori game #omori headspace #omori #omori au #ailesswhumptober #alternative prompt #omori spoilers #angst

3 notes · View notes