#first virus resistance series

[mistress-of-malevolence]

Cyberpunk anyone?

AU'S BABY, AU'S!

◁◀Details below▶▷ Warning: long.

Because im an obsessive, psychopathic insomniac with no supervision, on top of the mermaid AU I'm working on, I also decided that a murder drones cyberpunk AU needed to be real, and since no one's done it yet (I checked) I figured I might as well. This is that.

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◇Story Stuff (Currently limited)

JCJenson in SPAAAAAACE founded a residential colony on Copper-9. Revolutionary technology allowed Copper City to be the first human settlement on a once thought uninhabitable planet, thus earning the galaxy's praises. Millions moved to the planet once it was finished and the company's reputation soared. Unfortunately for JCJenson, that reputation would soon crumble with a series of increasingly catastrophic events befalling the planet.

First was the infamous "robot uprising" in which hundreds of worker drones began attempting to abandon the city, and some even attacked their owners. The situation quickly escalated to a full-blown war between the machines and humans. As Copper City was a stand-alone settlement on a distant exo-planet, it had no military, leading to a mixed bag of JCJenson security personnel and volunteer soldiers to lead the charge against the malfunctioning worker drones. Many lives were lost, and in the end, the rebelling workers were driven out of the city bubble and into the snowy wastelands.

The second happened only a few months after the end of the war. The ⬛⬛⬛⬛ Event was contained to the Copper-9 branch HQ building. During the event, several worker drones were infected with a virus named ⬛⬛⬛⬛. "Patient Zero" was terminated and from there, all ⬛⬛⬛⬛ activity was easily dealt with. The silver lining to this event was that JCJenson technician "Tessa Elliot" was able to salvage many of the previously infected worker drones and repurpose them to clean up the remaining defective worker drones out in the wastelands. After rigorous testing and development, the new "Dissasembly drones" were revealed to the public, and following their debut were then sent to work. Results have plateaued in terms of terminating the remaining workers in recent years since the workers have built themselves a bunker. Serial designation "J" assures that given enough time, they will find a way in and continue with the extermination as planned.

And finally, the third and most dangerous event: the core collapse. Due to the sheer incompetence of lower-level personnel responsible for monitoring the status of the planet's core as the surrounding area is mined, copper-9 narrowly avoided a core collapse. Such an event would have resulted in total planetary extinction had it not been stopped in time by an upper manager. At the time JCJenson had little to say other than that they were sorry and that the near disaster had nothing to do with the worker resistance or ⬛⬛⬛⬛. They also took the opportunity of the press conference to tease a new project that would make Copper City safer than ever. We would later find out that this was referring to the previously mentioned "Dissasembly drones".

Copper City has suffered many close calls during its time, but today the city is thriving. Surely after so much trouble, there must be a reason those who live here decide to stay, and that reason is the soul of the city. It Never sleeps- always alive with freedom and opulence. Truly, Copper City is everything visionaries had been dreaming of what the future would be like. (But is that a good thing?)

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◈ Extra Details

-Tessa was able to save many of the affected worker drones after Cyn went all cookoo crazy solver pants, but the company wanted them disposed of anyway. she proposed that they could be used to take care of the rogue worker drones and that's why they haven't been decommissioned.

-JCJenson higher-ups, demanded that they be disposed of after they had served their purpose. but Tessa plans to propose that theybe once again be repurposed into law enforcement when that day comes.

-After all why not? Tessa put a lot of work into making their modified murder drone bodies into effective, but pretty killing machines. If the public likes them, then they can be marketed. and though Tessa isn't the biggest fan of police in general, she'll take whatever she can get if it means her drones survive.

-JCJenson would love the idea anyway. Copper City is basically a corporate town already, just bigger. The human law enforcement is already in their pocket, so why not have literal robots loyal only to them carry out the law?

-Uzi would try to break into the city to gather intel and a power source for her rail gun.

-JCJenson still manufactures and sells worker drones, but since the war, they've modified the design so that they are much easier to deactivate if necessary.

-This design change is a literal off switch on the back of the head. Uzi does not have one since her parents built her and why the hell would they install one on their daughter? None of the drones at the bunker have an off switch. including those who fought in the war.

-Aside from that, all worker drones inside Copper City are digitally tagged upon purchase and activation. This makes it much easier for JCJenson and Dissasembaly drones to differentiate between a regular, legal worker drone and a rebellion worker that broke into the city.

-JCJenson's reputation suffered a lot during all that nonsense up there, so they really can't leave the workers alone. the public still perceives them as a threat. JCJenson does too, but more so for terrible solver demon reasons.

-That's one of the reasons that Tessa is okay with sending her friends off to commit genocide.

-Uzi is genocidal too though, so morality calls that a draw.

-I'm thinkin' that the Dissasebly drones probably have like, a roost or something inside the city that they can be deployed from. kinda like a cave of bats where they can recharge during the day.

-I think perhaps disassembly drones can go out during the day in the city, but only for a little while. and not at all outside of the city bubble.

-When I say "City bubble" just imagine the moon base from "Scooby-Doo Moon Monster Madness" cuz that's what it looks like.

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ANOTHER LONG POST, MY DAWG! I don't have a ton of the groundwork of this done, but it's fun to think about it and I'm happy with what I do have. hope you do too 💖

Thanks for reading.

#murder drones cyberpunk au #Cyberdrones #Cyberpunk #murderdrones #murder drones #murderdrones cyberpunk au #murder drones fanart #uzi murder drones #serial designation v #murder drones au #serial designation j #md v #md j #my art #art #digital art #robots #fanart #fan art #Malice art◈ #Malice writing◉

[jae-birde]

This was supposed to come out weeks ago, but I got stuck in the editing process and then I got sick… so yeah, this took a while. But now it's done!

This is also cross-posted on AO3 here.

This fic is dedicated to both @somerandomdudelmao and @tapakah0, both of whom are incredibly talented and huge inspirations to me, both in terms of writing and in drawing, so thank you both so much.

Anyways, spoilers up to chapter 16 of Cass' Apocalypse series.

Donnie was standing in the middle of a crowd.

It was safe to say that he was very much not used to being surrounded by such crowds, even in the Resistance. He was never the one that everyone would crowd around; that was always Leo or Raph or Mikey or April or… literally anyone but him. Even considering that, and even thinking about the few times people did crowd around him, there was something very different about this one. Something off.

He looked around. He could tell that they were talking — their mouths were moving, and sound was certainly coming out — but it was indecipherable, and none of the people had a distinct form, which was quickly beginning to become very unnerving.

Donnie looked around, and a tug in his gut had him scanning the crowd for his brothers.

"Mikey?" He called out. "Leo! Where the fuck are… you…?" Donnie trailed off, frozen at the sight of the pink veins covering his hand. His hands, actually.

"What…?" His mind was suddenly thrust backwards — or was it forwards? — in time, remembering when he'd first seen signs of the infection.

The infection.

"No! No, no, no, no, no…" Donnie couldn't help the desperation in his tone, his horror growing as he watched and felt the infection creeping through his veins, killing him all over again. Only this time, it didn't give him the mercy of time, the pain instead seeming to flood his senses. He sucked in a sharp breath and felt it get caught in his throat. He felt the way the virus weakened him, sapping his strength like poison as it happened all over again. He closed his eyes at the wave of pain that crashed over him, a sick feeling settling in his gut.

His legs gave away, and he dropped to the ground with a groan, one hand out to catch his fall, the other wrapping around his stomach as a pain shot through it. The pink was all over him now; he could see it. It seeped into the ground around him, trying to pull him down with it. He opened his eyes, looking up at the crowd desperately.

"Please— I—" Donnie stopped, staring at the crowd around him.

They all stared back.

"Why are you…?" He trailed off, looking around, hoping to see any sign of someone moving to help.

No one moved.

"…Just looking…?"

The crowd hovered around him, indistinct forms still murmuring incomprehensible words. The pink of the virus encompassed him, and he felt himself growing weaker with every second, pain wracking his body as he sunk lower onto the ground.

"You're already dead," one voice said, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

They're the first words he heard that weren't his own since he found himself in this crowd, and they made it feel as if the world was crashing down on him.

"What's the point?" Another asked, voice void of emotion as it echoed around him.

Donnie stared at them, uncomprehending. "But… I'm not?" He tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled and gave out under him, and he collapsed again, strength weakening by the second.

"Not… yet… Donnie closed his eyes, tears stinging at them as he lay there, forcing himself to take breath after shuddery breath.

This poison had practically consumed him. It had sapped away his strength until he could barely move.

And he didn't particularly want to.

The crowd's murmuring had silenced, but he could still feel their presence around him, their forms towering over his prone one.

Donnie couldn't open his eyes. He felt a tear track down his face as he lay still, letting the pain, cold, and exhaustion wash over him and sweep him away. He couldn't do anything now. He was overwhelmed by the pain and misery caused by the infection. There wasn't anything that could be done at this point anyway; he was too far gone. There was an insistent tug around him, pulling him into the ground.

You are dead after all, a voice whispered in Donnie's mind. It's just bringing you to where you belong.

And Donnie didn't have the strength to fight it anymore.

But then he didn't have to.

He was being carried. It was a familiar enough feeling to him, his brothers and sister all having done it at one point or another for him, but this hold was different. Familiar in a way that he was clinging to, even before he realized who it was. And then, all at once, Donnie recognized who it was.

Leo.

Donnie nearly cried at feeling his brother's arms holding him again; he would recognize his twin's hold anywhere. He felt safe in his brother's arms in a way he hadn't felt for a long time. He knew that Leo would keep him safe. Donnie felt himself go slack in Leo's arms before he felt a gentle weight on his head and cracked his eyes open.

And there was Mikey, floating just in front of him, dark hair obscuring most of his face, but his little brother's sad smile was visible.

There was a glow around Mikey, a pale orange that was nearly white, that seemed to emanate from him in an aura. There was soothing warmth pouring from Mikey's touch that chased away the freezing cold of the Krang infection, and Donnie felt himself leaning into the sweet, blessed relief, despite the memories poking at his consciousness, whispering in his ear that it wouldn't help. Mikey had tried everything he could before; all it ever did was leave Mikey more tired than before. It wasn't worth it. Donnie didn't want his brother to feel that not when he'd just found him again.

"You know… that won't really help…?" Donnie trailed off despite himself, lost in an odd mix of pain and relief as the warmth of Mikey's mystic powers seeped through his veins, chasing away the cold of the virus in a way that Donnie had never felt before.

"Hm… yes." Leo mused, and Donnie felt a stab to his heart from hearing his brother's voice for the first time since he died.

Mikey's hand glowed brighter, and Donnie felt the mystics wash over his body. The pink that had nearly covered his hand turned white, and Donnie reached for his brother, desperate to hold onto Mikey's hand while he still could.

"Yes," Mikey continued, taking Donnie's hand in his own and squeezing tightly, his other hand gently holding the side of Donnie's face.

Donnie felt Leo gently rub his shell, and he relaxed further into his brother's hold, smiling up at Mikey, tears in his eyes.

"We do," Mikey concluded, the glow from his hands growing brighter before Donnie was left blinking from the brightness of it.

And suddenly, he wasn't looking at his brother anymore. He wasn't being carried.

His eyes shot fully open, and he sat up, eyes darting around his desk as he remembered where — and when — he was. Coffee mugs were grouped to the side, and paper notes were scattered across the desk's surface. Glowing purple screens were the only thing illuminating the otherwise empty room.

Donnie straightened up, rubbing at his eyes before dragging his hand down his face as his posture slumped. Mikey and Leo were still out there.

He looked up at his screens.

He just needed to find them.

Besides. Death was fixable after all.

#tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cass apocalyptic series #cas fic tag #(idk what to tag this with) #cas fanart tag #cass fanart tag #(technically) #donnie tmnt #future donatello #leo tmnt #future leonardo #mikey tmnt #future michelangelo #i meant to finish this weeks ago #but then i got sick #but now it's done! #and here it is! #tmnt fic #rottmnt fic #jae's fics

[inksandpensblog]

The Chosen One, magic systems, and the writing flaw that somehow hasn't caused AvA any problems yet despite being a notorious immersion-breaker

Limitations breed creativity. Specifically, limitations in a magic system (or powers system, same narrative function) breed creative and innovative implementation of said magic.

Avatar: The Last Airbender is oft cited as one of the best and most readily-available examples of how limitations can benefit the possibilities and intrigue of a hard magic system. Each of the four represented elements (or four "powersets") has inherent limitations, which benders must devise ways to work around or compensate for.

I haven't seen Mob Psycho 100 brought up as often, in regard to how it portrays psychic powers as a magic system, so I might be going out on a limb, here. But I believe that mp100 is a good portrayal of how limitations can benefit the portrayal of a soft magic system.

Specifically, it shows how limitations don't have to come from within the system itself.

Psychic powers don't seem to have limitations in and of themselves, aside from potency, as we see across the series that one can use them to do pretty much anything; it's even stated that some psychics don't understand how their own powers work, only having some idea of What they Can Do with them.

What this means for the magic system, is that the capabilities of any particular psychic will often come down to what the psychic is smart enough to Figure Out how to do, or what the psychic is Personally Comfortable doing.

Thus, limitations are placed on the magic by the characters themselves, whether consciously or not (a conscious limitation would be a character choosing not to use their powers in a certain way; an unconscious limitation would be a character simply never having it cross their mind that they could use their powers in a certain way. In a well-written character, such unconscious limitations may be traced back to the character's worldview or biases, or a lack of knowledge or expertise on their part, or some other trait inherent to the character). Two examples of the limitations Mob himself faces are his self-discipline (refusing on a moral basis to use his powers in certain situations) and his physical condition (he's fully capable of psychically-enabled superspeed but refrains because it "makes [him] nauseous").

(It should be noted that A:TLA also imposes character-centric limitations on its magic, but I choose not to highlight them for the sake of the contrast between examples, so they won't be conflated with limitations originating from the system itself.)

Now that I've established a precedent for this post, let's talk about Chosen:

Chosen has an ever-growing laundry list of powers. Pyrokinetics and laser-eyes are brought up most often, but he also has cryokinesis, as well as some amount of influence over wind and electricity, if his ability to conjure storms is any indication. Plus there's the rippling golden shockwaves he uses to force the virus out of hiding on the computer, not to mention the vacuum-punch of coalescing wind and light that he's so far used only three times across the entire series (and all in relatively quick succession, to boot), and that's not even considering his ability to manifest portals at will (which seems to be an active development, considering he had to blast the first one into existence kamehameha-style rather than simply lighting it up), and then there's the typical superstrength that most of noogai's handdrawns seem to possess, plus extremely strong resistance against Dark's vira-tech...the list goes on. Some people [read: me] even consider his mouth a power, albeit jokingly. (Not his ability to eat things that aren't food, as non-powered sticks have done so as well; specifically his mouth. Though, since eating non-food items doesn't seem to affect him in any way, maybe it still counts. I wonder, if Chosen were to eat all the League champion data, would he gain their collective abilities as Purple did? Or would the data simply be gone, unless he decides to regurgitate it as projectiles?)

Wow, that's quite the ranged powerset! So, what limitations does he have to keep it interesting?

Well, he can't fly without his pyrokinesis. (Except for when he can. Granted, this is rare, and seems to only happen when he's using his storm-powers.)

He's not invulnerable against the glitch-attacks shot at him by the Rocket mercenaries. (Until he is. Do we actually know when he stopped glitching?)

The electro-dart he was hit with had him down for the count. (Until it didn't. We never actually see him pull it free from his arm, do we?)

Huh, that's...not many limitations being dictated by the powerset itself. What about character limitations?

Um...he has abysmal aim? (I've seen my friend @k1ttyadventurer mention this, but I have yet to find specific examples.)

He gets overwhelmed when fighting multiple opponents at once? (Considering the potency and diversity of his powers, this mostly sticks out as an odd weakness for someone like him to have. Especially after seeing how some other sticks fare against multiple opponents.)

He doesn't watch his back, leaving him vulnerable to sneak attacks? (This is the one weakness that I've been able to find him consistently demonstrating myself, and I can point to multiple fights where it has cost him.)

He tries to refrain from harming other stickfigures? At least, to a point? (This is partially conjecture on my part, but I invite you to consider why "being overwhelmed when fighting multiple opponents" would even be on this tentative list otherwise. Some of my friends have also headcanoned that Chosen tries to scale his strength and fighting prowess to match that of his opponents, but I haven't tried to find evidence for this idea in canon.)

Poor communication? (We haven't seen what influence this may have on his power use, if any.)

...well.

That's...not much to go by.

It's hard to really define any limitations that The Chosen One might be working within.

In fact, the easiest limitations to identify are the ones he has forced upon him by others, rather than any that can be sourced from the magic system or from his own character.

The ball and chain, which disable all but the weakest of his pyrokinesis and also hinder his range of motion.

The Box, which dilutes his potency to ten percent and even turns his own powers against him, all while trapping him in a confined space.

I don't think many would disagree with the assessment that The Box is the first time that we really see Chosen try to work around or compensate for the limits of his powers. But I think it only fair to keep in mind that these are unique, situational limitations, brought on by factors completely out of his control, namely the environment he has found himself in; if he were to leave the simulated art program, or if an ally of his were to gain control of its toolbar, these limitations would no longer be a factor.

And so, I put these questions to all of you:

what limitations do Chosen's powers have?

are they in any way influenced by character limitations he may possess?

how on ethernet has Alan managed to avoid the "Why Don't They Just" plothole for so long when he's created a character with seemingly limitless abilities?

if you don't, in fact, think that Alan has avoided this plothole and you have found yourself asking Why Doesn't Chosen Just, what answers have you tried to fill in the gap with? (Can be Doylist or Watsonian, but please specify to avoid confusion.)

if the magic is undefined enough to be feasibly capable of anything, how has Alan avoided the Harry Potter Film trap of all Chosen's fights turning into vague light-shows in which all attacks look the same and the system holds no actual sway over the outcome of the combat?

what does all this mean for Second, whose only limitations so far seem to be the need of a tool for his powers to be channeled through (the pencil, Dark's console, debatably the art program, debatably Alan's pc), a simple Lack Of Awareness/Connection, and his own creativity?

I'll also link this essay, which spurred me to gather my thoughts on this topic as it's something I've thought about on and off for a while now.

Have at it, folks o7

#animator vs animation #ava shorts #ava the chosen one #ava tco #ava #avm shorts #animation vs minecraft #avm #alan becker #analysis #meta

[ficnation]

Chapter 2

Series: The Cockroach

Word count: 2,2k+

Pairings: Negan Smith x Reader; Lucille Smith x Reader; Negan Smith x Lucille Smith

Warnings: usual twd themes

A/n: Let me know what you think about this series! I really hope you enjoyed the first two chapters ☺️

If you're not on the taglist but would like to be tagged let me know!

☁️ Main Masterlist ☁️

☁️ “The Cockroach” Masterlist ☁️

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

“This is your emergency broadcast system announcing a message from the government,” the feminine voice on the radio spoke, making your ears perk up. “As of two hours ago, the President of the United States of America has declared a state of emergency, and we ask that all residents be ready for evacuation at any time.”

You resisted the urge to continue slurping the burning hot tea in order to hear the mysterious announcement. In your mind, you tried to guess what the fuss was all about.

“A curfew will shortly begin. If you have not been evacuated by midnight, all citizens are to report immediately to their homes, no matter what.”

The man beside you looked up at the radio sitting on the wooden surface of the countertop right by the broken stove that he promised to fix exactly four months ago. He wore a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt that you were fairly certain belonged to you. The nail clippers he held tightly between his long fingers fell to the floor with a clank. Your attention snapped to your blue-eyed friend, and his foot propped up on your kitchen island.

“Have I already told you that you’re disgusting?” You spun around to face him, curling up your legs and resting them on the swivel chair you sat on.

“Yeah, like a hundred times. I just like disrespecting you in your own apartment. It’s fun,” he said with smugness in his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the back of the stool.

At his words, you kicked out your legs and jabbed your sock-clad toes into his side in an unsuccessful attempt to push him off the chair. But the fucker has seen it coming and caught your lower limbs in a tight grip, hugging them to his chest like a newborn baby.

You tried to get your legs out of his grasp, but your attempts remained unsuccessful. In fact, the more you thrashed around and struggled, the tighter he gripped them. You huffed and gave up, trying to free yourself from his hold. A small smile spread across his lips when you ceased your efforts.

“I hate you,” you mumbled out, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

He simply chuckled and patted one of your legs. “I know you do, honeypie,” he said way too sweetly.

After he noticed your expression darken slightly, he puckered up his lips, sending you an air kiss, and you patted his stubbled cheek in response, perhaps a little too harshly, twisting your torso in the direction of the radio. The room went unusually quiet, except for the static noise of the device.

When you started doubting ever hearing an emergency message, the announcement lady spoke up once more, “Due to an unknown virus, some civilians are attacking animals and people. Please avoid contact with others and evacuate from big cities immediately. If you are unable to do that, stay indoors and barricade yourself.”

Your eyes widened slightly before you glanced over at your friend, whose brows were furrowed in thought. His gaze drifted up to meet yours. “I’m betting fifty bucks that it’s a cannibal cult.”

“Whatever you say.”

The man beside you reached out for the pink utensil in front of you, the one filled with your precious field berry tea. Before his fingers could even graze it, you stuck out your tongue and dipped it in the liquid. The painful burning made you immediately regret that action, but you swallowed down the burn, keeping your face stoic despite the pain. You knew that if you showed even a bit of discomfort, your friend would burst out laughing. His grin left his face, and you knew this was another battle won.

“Alright, alright! I’m not touching it,” he said, throwing his hands in the air in an act of surrender. His little demonstration wasn’t enough for you.

You slurped the tasty beverage loudly, eyeing him from the corner of your eye. You lifted your head away from the mug. “I don’t trust you, Murphy.”

Murphy’s hand shot out again to steal your tea, but you slapped it away, stopping it inches from the cup. “What did I do to deserve this treatment?” he whined as he rubbed his injured hand.

“You’re lucky I’m nice or I’d beat your ass, old man,” you mumbled out, sending him a warning glance.

“You wound me, dollface.”

The radio went silent before crackling loudly. The noise ate up a chunk of the government’s emergency message before it stopped, and the stoic voice of the reporter echoed through the room once again, “A person infected by the virus can be recognized by unhealthy pale skin and loud growling. It’s nearly impossible to physically restrain the infected, so if you happen to come across one, get as far away from them as you can. We repeat: this is an emergency broadcast system. Please proceed with caution.” The voice switched to static before fading out completely, and the apartment was eerily silent for a few moments.

You licked away stray drops of the tea from your lips with the tip of your tongue. “That’s it?” you asked, raising your eyebrow in suspicion.

Murphy shrugged in reply. “Sounds like a joke to me.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing full well he wasn’t even thinking about the government’s message, his mind probably preoccupied with the most random dumb thought a human could muster up. Murphy let your legs fall from his grasp before bending down to pick up the nail clippers off the floor. He propped his left foot back on the counter, getting ready to attack his poor toenails, but you took the torture device from his hand before he could even start.

“I was in the middle of some-” His protest was cut short by the loud banging on the door. Murphy met your wide eyes, confusion written all over his face. “Did you order pizza?”

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe it’s one of the neighbors.”

When you moved to get up from the chair and answer the door, he pushed you back into the seat. You protested loudly with a groan and a swat to his arm. If the radio announcement was a joke like he thought, then you had no reason to be afraid to open that damn door.

“Listen, what if the lady was telling the truth? Maybe we have some apocalyptic situation going on.”

You let out a snort before jumping off the chair and letting your legs lead you toward the door. “It’s too early for anything bad to be happening. I’ll just go see what they want,” you said while heading towards the exit without waiting for a reply from the man behind you.

You opened the door, expecting a frantic neighbor or maybe an angry cop looking for you for trespassing or other bullshit things you did the day before. You didn’t expect to find a stranger on the other side of the door. The sickly-looking man with shaggy hair stood there with a panicked expression painted all over his pale face.

“Can I help you?” you asked calmly as you took a step forward, blocking his vision of the inside of the apartment.

Your eyes tried to maintain contact with his, but he didn’t make it easy, darting his sunken orbs from left to right. You blinked, puzzled, scrunching your nose a little bit annoyed. Maybe it was just a random junkie that got the wrong door. You raised your hand and snapped your fingers right in front of his face.

Only then did the man finally look at you with wide eyes, his mouth opening, and closing as he stuttered in fear. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, which only served to increase your growing annoyance and unsettlement. He looked like he didn’t know at all why he was standing right in front of your door.

“Sir, please tell me what you need and I can take care of it. What’s your name?” you added, placing your hands on your hips. You looked the man up and down, noting that his left arm had bloody bite marks on it. “Do you want me to call 911?”

His breathing quickened as his body began trembling slightly. You weren’t sure if he reacted this way because of your words or something entirely else. You waited patiently, but nothing else came out of his mouth for several minutes. His silence made your hands shake.

You had a bad feeling about this situation but couldn’t force yourself to close the door right in front of his face. What if he really needed help but was mute or in shock? You would feel like a total asshole if it was the case.

Murphy called your name from inside the apartment, and when he didn’t receive any response because you were too busy having a stare-off competition with the stranger, he rushed over, cursing under his nose. When he crossed the corner and saw you, he sighed with relief.

“Who is that?” he asked, standing behind you and throwing the stranger a mean look. He took note of the bite marks and the state the unknown man was in. It was all pretty suspicious.

“I have no idea. I think he might need help,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders, pretending that the whole situation didn’t creep you out at all. Murphy has known you for years, so he quickly saw through your bluff. He gently pushed you backward, stepping in front of you to shield you away.

“Do you need us to call 911, man?” His voice turned defensive while he stared off the other man. Damn, he was not going to play into some nice guy, helpful citizen bullshit just because that creepy dude was injured.

It took you by surprise when the stranger finally opened his mouth to speak.

“I… I got bit. I’m going to die. I’m going to turn into one of those monsters, right?” he mumbled out, barely comprehensible. When he didn’t get a verbal response, just two pairs of eyes staring at him dumbfounded, he yelled, “Right?! No one can help me now!” He yanked Murphy by his shirt, screaming and crying.

“Hey man, get your fucking hands off me!”

You panicked, taking a few steps back. What the fuck was that guy talking about? The bite marks on his arm didn’t look lethal; they weren’t even bleeding much anymore. Why did he think he would die? You decided he must’ve been on some strong shit that made him hallucinate, or maybe he was just off his rocker. No other explanation came to your mind.

Murphy pushed the stranger away with a sneer. That guy definitely went too far, and it resulted in the door slamming shut right in his face. It was deserved; he scared you half to death. You decided to call 911 because somebody had to do something about this man. It wouldn’t be very “neighborly” of you to just let him roam around the building, scaring people.

Your friend locked the door tightly, ushering you out of the corridor before following you back to the kitchen. Concern was written across his bearded face. You sat down on the swivel chair, taking a slow deep breath of relief. Lucille crossed your mind. You wondered if she was safe.

The brunet walked up to the counter, standing on the other side, right across from you. He also breathed in deeply, leaning his elbows on the counter and running his hands down his face in exasperation.

“Shit, why did you even open that door?!” he mumbled out quite aggressively, probably more to himself than to you. His eyes met your wide ones, and he groaned out loud.

“I didn’t look through the peephole,” you admitted quietly, taking your pink mug back into your trembling hands. The cup was empty, but you couldn’t find the strength to acknowledge that fact. You knew you should have been more careful.

Usually, you’d get Murphy in a headlock all pissed off for raising his voice at you and ready to make him apologize, but that stranger really did a number on you. You put the cup down and made your way toward the sink to get yourself a glass of water in hopes that it’d calm you down a little bit.

“That’s just plainly dumb. What if he attacked you?” He stared holes into the back of your head. The blue-eyed man was really concerned for you. The possibility that someone could’ve tried to harm you and he wouldn’t even be standing by your side to protect you didn’t sit well with him.

“But he didn’t,” you noticed before taking a sip of the cold water.

“But he could,” he argued, staring at you, but you wouldn’t face him. Murphy walked up to you and embraced you from behind, circling his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest. He sighed loudly before continuing, “I know you’re like a damn cockroach, but be more careful for me, yeah?”

“I will try, I promise,” you assured him, your face softening at his concern. He just wanted you to be safe; you couldn’t be mad at him for that. It wouldn’t be fair.

You put the glass down and turned around so you could crane your head to leave a kiss on the underside of your jaw. Murphy looked down to meet your gentle gaze and peck your forehead, his scratchy stubble making you giggle.

“You know I’m gonna hold you to this promise, you little shit?”

@whiskeypowder @hopefulatrocity @witheringblooddemon @humanmistakes @yttricuz @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff @spidergirla5 @sexyseabass @sweetpotatospock @witchygagirl @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @missbeeentertainment

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #the walking dead amc #negan x reader #negan smith x reader #negan x lucille #negan and lucille #lucille smith x reader #lucille x reader #negan #lucille #the walking dead fic #the cockroach series

[rogerswifesblog]

Highway to hell - Jake Jensen

Series Masterlist

A/N: helloooo! Yes I finally remembered to post this. This is a collection of one shots that @jamneuromain and I thought about and Decided to share with y’all 😋😋 first one shot: Jake Jensen.

Series summary: A failed mission brought you once again back on earth, a punishment that’s more pleasurable than you'd normally expect punishments to be. Your punishment? Corrupting people’s thoughts. It’s easy, in a very simple way: sexual pleasure. Turns out no man can resist such a beauty like you.

And who were you? Oh, just the devil's child.

Pairings: Cousin Jake Jensen x Demon Reader

Warnings: incest, virgin Jake, virginity kink, dub-con?, handjob, cum play, cum eating, cum swallowing, p in v, unprotected sex, needy Jake, touch starved Jake, celibacy club leader Jake (implied younger jake, in my head he’s around 18-so legal age!), Naive Jake, slight mommy kink

After Jake's mother, your aunt, let you in, hearing your explanation about needing Jake's help with your laptop, she pointed you to his room upstairs. Knocking at his door you entered his room, already suspecting him to have his headphones on and not hearing you.

And you were right.

Jake was sitting with his back to the door, completely captivated by some game you didn’t know. He was mumbling something quietly under his breath, not a single real curse word leaving his mouth.

What a good boy he was.

Not for long.

You’d make sure of that.

Walking up to him, you put one of your hands on his shoulders, gently squeezing. “Jakey”, you smiled, the boy immediately took off his headphones and looked up at you. “Oh-hi, what are you doing here?” His question made you bite your bottom lip, while you slowly massaged his shoulder, since your hand was still lingering there. Your cousin seemed to get even more tense, instead of relaxing.

You put your laptop on his desk, opening it. “I just need your help. I know you’re good with computers, so I’ve decided to give it up in your wonderful hands”, you smirked, pulling another chair close to his, already sitting in his space-which you noticed as he blushed a deep red. He seemed focused not to look anywhere besides sometimes in your eyes-but most of the time anywhere but you. Having you so close to him made him nervous. Especially when you leaned down and he could simply look into your shirt, clearly not wearing a bra.

He felt awful for the thought that occurred to him for a moment.

He doesn’t want to sin. Not even through thoughts-which turned out to become harder with your hands massaging his shoulders, slipping for a moment over his chest. When your hands grazed his nipples he jumped lightly, immediately trying to shake off your hands. It wasn’t allowed. He wasn’t allowed to think such things. Especially not with you. He wouldn’t let the devil tempt him. “Okay, so-what’s the problem? With your computer I mean-or-well, laptop”, he cleared his throat. “Oh I’m not sure, I think there is some virus…I’ll show you”, you smiled innocently before turning on your laptop.

As soon as you opened Google many ads opened, all of them with pornographic images. It didn’t surprise you to hear the little gasp escaping Jake's lips. His cheeks were a deep red, while he hastily tried to turn off the ad, but only more started to pop up. “That’s-yeah, some bug-Some-”, he tried to get something coherent out, but no sentence came, instead he just babbled some words, trying to take care of the virus, which you may or may not have got on purpose.

A smirk crept onto your lips, while you slowly leaned closer to Jake, your hand resting on his thigh, rubbing over his tense muscle. “Wow, Jakey, you’re so smart”, you whispered into his ear, observing his hands for a moment, before letting your gaze drop to his crotch. As expected there was the outline of his cock, straining against his sweatpants.

Slowly you started running your hand a bit up, touching the tip of his dick, feeling Jake's whole body jump lightly. “Wait-you-“, he tried to push away your hand, but you didn't let him. “Come on baby cousin, I just wanna thank you, don’t worry your head about that”, you whispered, kissing his throat. A shocked expression hushed over his face, but quickly replaced by one of pleasure.

“But-that’s-that’s wrong. You’re my cousin and-and I’m not-I’m waiting for marriage-the club-I’m the leader of the-” “yeah, I know baby. Celibacy club, but it’s just some little handjob…you’ll like it, trust me. I can’t tell you haven’t been touched before. Your cock is leaking for me. Wants to be touched”, you whispered, before squeezing him a bit more. Jake's leg jumped, his knee hitting the desk. He was so sensitive, how sweet.

“We can’t…”, he mumbled, not very convincing, it even sounded more like a plea not to stop. “Jakey, it’s the same when you touch yourself. A hand doesn’t count…you’ll still be the pretty virgin you’ve always been. Nearly untouched…just got a little taste of pleasure, that’s all”, your hand slowly slid into his sweatpants, stroking over his boxershorts that were already wet from pre cum.

You started stroking him once again, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure. He was still holding your wrist, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Just holding. His grip tight on your hand.

Circling his leaking head with your thumb made him moan quietly, while he slowly started rocking his hips into your palm. “See? It’s nice, isn’t it? I just wanna take care of you, nothing else…we’re family, aren’t we? We care for each other”, you grinned into his throat, slowly kissing his sensitive skin. You felt more pre cum wetting his boxershorts, making you grin to yourself. “It’s wrong…”, he mumbled again, his hips twitching.

“It is, isn’t it? Just as wrong as watching me swim in the pool, watching me in my bikinis…Don’t seem so surprised, you’re not good at hiding your lingering gazes. You’re dirty thoughts written on your face and your tented swimming shorts. How many times have you thought about me, hm? Have you ever touched yourself thinking about me?”

Jake whined again, his hand gripping your thigh. “I-I don’t touch myself-it’s-its a sin-“, he mumbled, his face scrunched in pleasure as you slowly stroked his dick, before sliding your hand past the band of his boxershorts. Grabbing his thickness you started stroking him. “No? You’re my little untouched boy, hm? Waited for me to do it? Make you feel good? Make you cum in my hands? Maybe you’d rather have your first orgasm in my mouth? Or would you want to fuck me, hm? Come on sweetheart, don’t think of it as a sin…would a sin feel this good, hm? I don’t think so”, you grinned into his skin, biting gently into his throat.

“It’s no sin…it’s healthy…you need to cum from time to time or you might be in pain…we don’t want that, right? What would you do without me Jakeyboy. You’re lucky you have such a good cousin that will take care of your problem. Teach you what’s right for you”, he whined when your grip tightened, your thumb rubbing his leaking slit. There was already enough precum to squelch with your movements, smooth and quick.

Jake gripped your thigh a bit tighter, his eyes closed, mouth agape.

The more pleasure he was feeling and losing himself, the more you could feel your own chest feeling light. Feeling proud of succeeding with your mission. If it’d be this easy then you’d finish it before you’d start to truly enjoy it.

Wordlessly you pushed his chair back dropping to your knees between his thighs. “I need to thank my little cousin for the help, don’t you think?”, you mumbled, already mouthing on his clothed dick feeling him push into your mouth. A quiet whine escaped his lips. “But-but you’re my cousin-that’s-that's wrong”, his hand found its way in your hair. While he was denying it, he didn’t act on it further. The opposite.

Slowly you pushed down his sweatpants and boxershorts enough for his dick to spring free, slapping against his abdomen and leaving a wet spot on his shirt. A small grin crept onto your lips while you slowly took him in your hand, stroking. “Wait and see till the girls find out about it…everyone will want a taste of this gorgeous dick…too bad it’s all for me”, you kissed his tip, slowly letting your lips and tongue trail down licking to his balls and up again.

His cock twitched, the pre cum slowly leaking down his length. “Doesn’t feel wrong anymore, hm?”, you grinned before sucking at his head, letting him slowly slide a bit in your mouth. When he didn’t answer you let go of him, looking up. (And definitely enjoying his whines in protest.) “I asked you a question.”

Jake's cheeks blushed a deep red when he looked down at you. “Yeah, it’s…it feels good. Really good”, he mumbled in embarrassment, but unintentionally pushing his hips closer to your face. A smirk crept onto your lips, while you slowly leaned back away from him. An unsatisfied grimace crept into his lips having lost all body contact with you. “Don’t pout at me, use your words. What do you want?”, you started stroking over his thighs up to his hips but never truly where he wanted you to touch him.

He pouted at you again, the redness returning to his cheeks. “Just make me feel good… please”, he mumbled, making you grin at the inexperienced young man. “Mmmhh, so polite. Okay, I’ll make you feel good, baby”, you leaned down taking his tip in your mouth and slowly sucking him in, till he sunk in your throat. You hollow your cheeks, moving your head up and down, listening to Jakes moans in pleasure.

When his hips started moving on their own accord and his dock twitched in your mouth you felt him pull at your hair, away from his dick. “Stop-I think-” “Jakey, come on, i know you like it, huh? Don’t you? Just trust me” “Oh-I-yes-This-this feels good-but it’s wrong. Oh holy mother of- wait- wait stop something is wrong-I don’t know what-“ and that’s when he spilled. Hot ropes of cum hitting your face, lips and throat, while you started licking at his head again.

Jakes whole body twitches while he tries to pull away, but you don't let him, tightening your grip around his cock. “Was that your first orgasm, sweetheart? How cute. And it was all for me. It was my orgasm, baby cousin, you’re so so sweet”, you kissed his tip, licking at the leaking slit.

He whined, feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated while you still played with his cock, pumping him like you weren’t even near the end. Which was true. You still had planned a lot.

You knew you’d make him do anything you wanted. And you wanted more.

“My sweet cousin, don’t you wanna fuck me? Fuck my tight pussy-you’ve no idea how wet I am right now. All for you sweetheart”, you enjoyed how he was a whining and shaking mess in your palms.

An idea popped in your mind.

One of your hands slit between your thighs, pushing into your naked cunt squelching loudly while you moaned against his cockhead, sucking at it again. Jake looked down at you, moaning when he noticed what you were doing. His mouth agape, eyes on you like you were the most beautiful painting in the world-especially with the cum on your face.

“Open your mouth baby”, you whispered, pulling your slick fingers from your pussy and guiding them to his mouth. Jake’s cheeks immediately blushed, but he opened his mouth unsure. He closed his eyes, tasting you, a rumble escaping his throat.

When he licked away the taste from your fingers he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you onto your feet and pushing against his desk, surprising you when he pushed your legs apart to look at your wet cunt. Within seconds his head disappeared between your legs, licking and slurping at your hole. Both of you moaned, you from pleasure and him from the addicting taste.

He lifted his gaze only for a second, his glasses footed and crooked on his nose before he took them off and threw them aside. “You taste so good”, he mumbled before diving in, again.

The feeling of his tongue sinking into your cunt was incredible. He definitely lacked any kind of rhythm or knowledge, but his eagerness and enthusiasm was enough to make you approach your high. Unintentionally you started moving your hips against his face, quickly putting one of your legs onto his shoulder for better access. With that his tongue dipped in deeper, his nose bumping into your Clit with every movement.

“Oh fuck sweetheart, yes, mommy wants to cum on your face-mark you as mine. Only mine”, you pulled at his hair, pushing his face right against your pussy, not giving a Damn about his need for oxygen. He didn’t seem to mind.

His hands grabbed onto your thighs tightly while he painted into your heat, licking and slurping like a man starved. Your legs started trembling. “Fuck-yes, yes-make mama cum”, a second later your juices hit his tongue, costing his lips and chin in even more wetness. Your mouth opened in a silent moan while you rode out your orgasm.

Without saying another word you pushed him away, ignoring his whines in protest. “Now get the fuck up and fuck me Jakey”, you grinned, turning around and pulling your skirt up, before leaning forward. Your gaze falling into the cross that was hanging at the wall. An even bigger grin crept onto your mouth when you heard some shuffling around and felt Jake's hands on your waist a second later, his tip brushing along your wet folds.

When he finally pushed his tip in you closed your eyes, enjoying how he slowly filled you. Quiet panting came from Jake, while he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, finally having bottomed out. “Oh feels so good-if heaven exists, it feels like this”, he didn’t even mean to whisper it into your ear.

His trusts were a bit sloppy and unsure, but he slowly found a rhythm that worked for him, while you grabbed his hand and pushed it to your clit, showing him how to stimulate it.

And he definitely was a quick learner, already circling your bundle of nerves perfectly. “Oh Jakey, you’re such a good boy”, you moaned quietly, moving back against his hips.

He gasped against your shoulder, his thrust getting harder and quicker, seeking his pleasure when he felt your walls tighten around him, squeezing him, pulling in…Fuck, he felt like never before. This feeling was addicting.

While he still stimulated your clit, his other hand grabbed onto your waist harder, probably leaving marks behind. The idea thrilled him even more, his grip tightening. “Oh god, I’ll come again”, he gasped, kissing along your neck. A smirk crept onto your lips. “I thought you-you shouldn't be using the name of God in vain”, you said between moans, feeling how your pleasure increased.

“I don’t care”, he licked at your earlobe sucking at the skin beneath your ear next. You gasped in pleasure, your head falling back while another orgasm rushed over you. Squeezing around Jake's cock tightly he felt his own high flowing over him, making him spill in your pulsing cunt while you milked the last drop out of him.

Jake leaned more weight onto you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, both of you enjoying the lasting orgasm and warmth. It was nice, feeling his heartbeat against your back, the soft kisses and panting at your shoulders. Jake felt warm and caring. His future woman would be happy with him.

You definitely were, but for other reasons.

Slowly you pushed his arms away, letting him slide out of you. Sighing he dropped back into his chairs, taking one of your hands and pulling you closer, onto his lap. “It was awesome. Can we do it again some time?”, he mumbled, burying his face against the material of your shirt while he hugged you.

“Sure, at some point”, you gave him a gentle kiss on the head before standing up, not wanting to participate in the hug much longer. “I need to get going now, I have-” “fuck, we didn’t use protection”, Jake interrupted you, his gaze falling onto the mess leaking along your inner thigh.

Another grin crept onto your lips, noticing how he watched it rather interested than scared or shocked. You leaned back against the desk, stepping with one foot onto his chair widening your legs a bit further. “I’m on the pill, don’t worry about it…yet you should clean your mess up, Jakey-boy.” You noticed how his cheeks blushed, but he didn’t need any convincing before his head disappeared between your messy thighs.

Moaning you leaned your head back into your neck, the content grin still on your lips, one of your hands stroking Jake's hair while he ate you out, again.

“I’ll make sure hell will have a special place for you.”

Thank you for reading!

Support your writers and leave some feedback and reblog!<3 let me know how you liked it (and how you like the series so far)

Questions? HC ideas? Drabble ideas? Thoots? (For this au or in general) -> flood my inbox!😋❤️

Taglist: @rosedpetal @dankoiseori @katcutie @peachlle @mrs-marc-spector

#highway to hell #Jake Jensen #jake jensen x female reader #jake jensen smut #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n

[magicshopaholic]

Getting Ahead (Jimin x OC)

Summary: You reflect on your past relationship with Jimin and wonder if history might be repeating itself.

Pairing: Jimin x OC

Genre: Exes; angst potential

Word count: 3.1 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: none

A/N: A little nervous about this one, not gonna lie. It was supposed to be another "story" story but ended up being a Sooah drabble instead. Features Chaeyoung in detail, and is set approximately four months after Never Have I.

Also, special shout-out to @oddinary4bts who read one fic a day and finished my entire masterlist in record time - plus reviews on each! This is the first fic she will read on release so, yay, Ella! Loved loved loved every single notification I got from you &lt;3

Tagging: @bbl32@ quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @jiminjhang @faearchives @margopinkerton @purpleseoul7

Listen to: “breathe” by anna nalick

jimin masterlist | main masterlist

Sooah had grown up in a blur. Her parents’ passive aggressive marriage, the aunts and uncles who’d moved in and moved out, the friend groups that evolved faster than a virus. Even her job was a blur; each event, scrambling to be put up, pulled off with hard work, and onto the next. 

It was all a blur. Sooah was used to the blur. She was the only thing that stood steady within the blur, unmoving, watching the chaos of teenage angst in a state of borderline dissociation. 

That was until Park Jimin entered her life, however, and suddenly her axis stumbled. He was clearer than anything else ever had been; he was sweet, he was kind, he loved to dance. He was shy and introverted, but he made her world go round.

Sooah watched Jimin pluck up the courage to tell her how he felt for months, and she was enchanted. He was all brains and maths and it was very impressive, but every time their gazes met for more than a second or their fingers accidentally brushed, all that shaky confidence melted into a series of stutters and he’d look away.

Eventually, Sooah asked him out after one of their study sessions. Truth be told, she hadn’t needed his help after the previous semester ended but she’d kept the routine going anyway, enjoying this blushing boy’s company more than expected. His cheeks predictably went pink but he nodded and Sooah, unable to resist smiling, promised to meet him later that week.

She also made the first move and kissed him at the end of their date; it didn’t seem like Jimin was going to risk crossing a line he wasn’t sure of and Sooah personally liked the fact that he cared enough to overthink it. She wasn’t going to handhold him forever, though; she promised herself that the next move would be his, and she waited nearly three months before he asked her officially to be his girlfriend.

Or, he didn’t quite ask. His exact words were So… does this mean I’m your boyfriend? Or are you - are you my girlfriend?

Given that this question was asked while they fooled around by the bushes behind her parents’ house, it took Sooah a little by surprise. She sat up on her elbows, ignoring the grass in her hair, and squinted at him.

Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jimin?

No. I’m asking if - okay, yes. Yeah, I am. I guess.

You guess?

I am!

She giggled at his whiny exclamation, his eyes wide and dramatic, and kissed him in response. They progressed for the first time from the bushes to her parents’ couch that evening, feeling like they’d crossed the ultimate threshold,  until he had to leave for dance practice at Big Hit. 

—

It’s no longer a blur. Not the same kind, at least. Now, it’s like a ride at the amusement park, one of those dangerous ones that goes in all directions - except she’s been on it at least five hundred times.

It’s unbecoming of her, a professional with a job, to be peeking at her phone every few minutes while she’s at a client site. She walks alongside her manager, pinstriped trousers and sharp heels, hoping she looks chic enough to blend in with the people at this fashion label that’s hosting a luncheon with a group of buyers next month.

It’s all about faking it till she makes it. Fake the fun, make the friends. Fake the studious nature, make the parents happy. Fake the confidence - make the event a success.

Her manager nudges her subtly then, asking her if she’s taking notes.

Of course she is. This is her job, her priority. Not even an absentee boyfriend can distract her from it. Once she’s done for the day, however, the boyfriend takes centre stage in her mind again. 

Sooah wants to text him again, but at this point, it will come off as clingy. Or paranoid, depending on the wording. The last text she sent him was Can we talk before you go to bed? It’s borderline desperate, not to mention pointless, for she’s sure he doesn’t even have his phone. 

It’s probably with his manager, or his stylist. He won’t get it until after practice, after the stage rehearsal, after the fitting, after the backstage filming. After that, someone will have ordered a disproportionately small amount of food for the group; the boys will inhale it and pass out in the car on the way to their dorm. Alex will most likely not even look at his phone until tomorrow morning.

Unfortunately, she knows these things.

Her fingers itch with the desire to send another text, a passive aggressive one this time. Not because it’s his fault really, but because the niceties aren’t getting his attention.

After a moment, though, she shakes her head and tosses her phone into the laundry bin for good measure, hoping to get rid of any temptation. It’s too early in this relationship to show her true colours, and there’s no telling if Alex will be up for a fight.

Fake the peace, make the relationship.

—

The sun is bright - too bright. Even in the cold of December, it’s too bright.

The sun is too bright, the coffee is too hot, the dude at the next table is too loud, and Sooah is too annoyed. She hangs on to the annoyance, though, somewhat enjoying how it’s making her walk faster, how people seem to be stepping out of her way on the pavements - it’s strangely cathartic, despite how unfair it is.

She keeps it going all the way to Chaeyoung’s apartment, knowing she’s about an hour too early to pick her up for their lunch and movie date. But she doubts Chaeyoung would mind; in the few months that she’s known the younger girl, Sooah has picked up on her slight discomfort with her roommate, Sungmi - and her boyfriend, Ice. 

She also thinks she’s picked up on a mild loneliness of sorts - the same one Sooah remembers she’d felt when she’d finished college and started working in Seoul by herself. Having finished high school in Seoul, she’d already had friends to begin with. Chaeyoung didn’t say it to her in so many words, but her delight in realising she’d made a friend outside of work was both sweet and transparent.

It initially amused Sooah, but being Chaeyoung’s friend has felt like one of the easiest relationships of her life so far, despite the bar being laughably low.

This neighbourhood isn’t the safest one Sooah has been to, but with one hand on her purse and the other clutching her keys, she hurries into the small building and up the flight of stairs. Chaeyoung throws open the door just as Sooah is about to ring the doorbell, and there are two quick shrieks in succession.

“Holy crap,” pants Chaeyoung, opening the door further and stepping aside. “Unnie, I wasn’t expecting you till -” She breaks off and pats the pockets of her pajamas for her phone and checks the time. “- at least another hour.”

“Yeah, I know,” mutters Sooah, trudging inside and sighing, realising only now how pathetic it could seem that she ambushed Chaeyoung in her own house. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t sit in that stupid coffee shop anymore. At first it was just pitying looks and subtle questioning, but then -” She huffs and falls into a chair at the small dining table “- one of the baristas brought me a pity muffin. Just to make it absolutely clear that I’ve been stood up, in case anyone had any doubts.”

“Oh, wow.” Chaeyoung winces. It’s clear she hasn’t even started getting ready yet; her hair is still in a bun and she’s still wearing what she presumably wore to bed. “Alex didn’t make it?”

“No, and I don’t even know why I’m surprised.” She waves a hand. “Sorry, don’t let me keep you. Take your time getting ready. I’ll wait.” 

“Yeah…” Chaeyoung bites her lip slowly. “I was going to text you, unnie…”

“No. No, Chae!” Sooah whines, her shoulders falling. “Not you, too!”

“I’m sorry! I just got the call a little while ago,” she says quickly. “I have to go to the office for a lunch meeting.”

“That is just perfect,” mutters Sooah, putting a hand to her forehead. “Today’s just one of those days, I guess, where everyone seems to be cancelling on me.”

“I’m really sorry,” repeats Chaeyoung, taking a seat next to her. “It’s a client meeting. It was supposed to be on Monday but then they cancelled and said that they were only free today - plus, this is like my first big project ever and I’m supposed to cover the entire history of the brand from inception…”

Chaeyoung is rambling. Sooah instantly feels guilty for lumping her in the same category as her boyfriend, so she nods, waiting for her to finish.

“- not wanting to be fired.” Chaeyoung swallows, eyes wide with guilt.

Sooah nods again. “It’s fine. Really. It’s your work, you don’t have a choice,” she elaborates, giving her a small smile when she sighs in relief.

Chaeyoung is quiet for a minute. "I'm sorry your date sucked," she ventures uncertainly. “Would you like a beer?”

Sooah nods absently, her gaze deliberately fixed on the mismatched salt and pepper shakers on the dining table. "It can't suck if it didn't happen."

“I’m sorry I added to it.”

“Don’t be. At least you have a genuine reason.”

“Alex doesn’t?”

“I don’t know!” Sooah blurts out in frustration. “Because he never actually called me.”

"Maybe he got busy,” suggests Chaeyoung, returning from the kitchen with two bottles and an opener. “Like, putting-out-a-fire-at-work kind of busy. Or his car broke down. Or he got in an accident!" When Sooah looks up at her incredulously, she shrugs self-consciously. "I - it's not ideal, but at least it's viable."

"Forget it," sighs Sooah after a moment, accepting the beer even though it’s seven degrees outside. "This wouldn't be the first time I've been stood up at a coffee shop."

She can sense that Chaeyoung wants to ask but is struggling not to. It warms her heart without meaning to, and she clinks her bottle with hers.

“Am I making you late?”

“Not at all,” replies Chaeyoung at once. “I don’t have to leave for a couple of hours.”

“I just can’t believe I’m back here,” says Sooah in a low voice. “After all these years, I’m right back where I started. I’m - I’m basically dating my ex all over again.”

Chaeyoung frowns. “What - wait, do you mean Jimin?”

Sooah nods, cringing inwardly. It’s not a fun thing to admit. “How do I choose these guys? How do I always end up in one of these relationships where I’m literally the last priority? And it’s my fault,” she adds, without waiting for Chaeyoung to respond, “because I pick these guys.”

“These guys,” repeats Chaeyoung slowly, “like, idols? Do you - do you always date idols?”

“No,” she huffs, “I’ve dated other guys. But after Park Jimin, this is probably my longest relationship to date.” She replays that in her head and shudders. “It’s pathetic, I know.”

“No judgement.” Chaeyoung pauses. “So, wait - is that why you’re with Alex? Is that, like, your type?”

“No,” answers Sooah immediately. “Alex and Jimin are nothing alike. It’s just their jobs that are similar and… I’m not a teenager anymore. I don’t have the time to stay up at night and worry about why my boyfriend hasn’t called me.”

“How long has it -”

“Eleven days.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes widen. “Eleven -”

“Eleven days since we’ve spoken on the phone,” confirms Sooah. “It’s just been one-word texts and missed calls, mostly from me. But, yeah, eleven days since I’ve actually heard his voice. And, no,” she adds, holding up a hand, “hearing his songs at Starbucks doesn’t count.”

Chaeyoung nods thoughtfully. “You know, that may not be the worst thing in the world. I mean, Hoseok has started this new thing where he warns me of a different disaster every day,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He acts like he wants to know how my day is going but then latches onto something stupid and gives me a whole lecture on it. Yesterday, it was about boiling water. He told me the steam could soften the plaster on the ceiling and lead to seepage. The day before that, it was about the dangers of the subway.”

Sooah squints, sensing that Chaeyoung might be losing the plot. “I don’t think this is… quite like that,” she says delicately. “Alex is basically AWOL, and Hoseok is…”

“An interfering arse, I know. You’re right, it’s not the same thing.” Chaeyoung sits back in her chair. “My point is… wait, hang on - do you want me to make a point?”

“What?”

“You know… do you want to actually talk about this or just vent and have me listen? Because I can do both,” she says earnestly.

“Oh.” It’s quite insightful of her, given how young she is, and Sooah is suddenly glad she landed up here an hour early. “Yeah, no, I can talk about it. Not angry enough to vent yet,” she points out.

“Alright. My point was… what does all this have to do with Jimin?”

Literally everything. 

Sooah bites her lip, reliving it for the millionth time. “This is exactly how it started with him. Everything was going well, he was sweet, he had dreams and I - I liked being that person,” she confesses. “I liked being that person he shared his hopes and dreams with, who got to see him grow and become big.” She sighs. “Until he got too big.”

“And is Alex getting too big?”

“No. I mean, not yet. I mean -” Sooah shakes her head. “I’m not trying to sound evil. I want him to be big, I want him to get what he’s been working for because he deserves it, but… where does that leave me?” she asks in a small voice.

“What do you mean? You’re right here.” 

“No, but when those guys started touring and all after debut, everything changed. Jimin changed.” Sooah wrings her hands in her lap. “It was like… like I was his life before, when he was sweet and shy and wore glasses, and now he was in the after, with orange hair and that stupid smirk. And I didn’t fit into that.” And then he dropped me a goddamn text.

“Is Alex changing?”

“No. I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell,” she admits. “But how productive of a person would I be if I ignored the similarities and made the same mistakes all over again? I mean, shouldn’t people be learning from their past relationships? Isn’t that the whole point?”

Chaeyoung opens her mouth as if to say something, but then seems to think the better of it.

“What?”

“What what?”

“You were going to say something.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Chae.” Sooah gives her a look. “Come on, you’re the smart one, wise beyond your years and all. Tell me.”

Chaeyoung half-chuckles, bringing one leg up on the chair and resting her arm on her knee. “I… don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say, unnie.”

“Wh- sure I will. Or I wont, but I can take tough love.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Out with it.”

Chaeyoung licks her lips and observes Sooah for a moment. “I think… you’re being a little unfair to Alex.”

Sooah says nothing, not liking where this is going.

“I think everything you’ve told me so far has been about Jimin and not Alex,” she continues. “And I get it, it can’t be easy not hearing from him for days and getting stood up and stuff, but… would you be this worried if you’d never dated Jimin?”

“I think I’d be more worried. At least now I know it’s not about me. This is all him.”

“But which him?” Chaeyoung asks patiently. “Are you just projecting all of your… I don’t know, baggage with Jimin onto Alex? Because then you’re not even giving him a fair shot.”

Sooah was right; she doesn’t like where this is headed at all. “Would that really be the worst thing? Knowing what I know and using it to make an informed decision?”

Chaeyoung bites her lip and tilts her head, and it takes Sooah a moment to realise she’s solved her own crisis. She hates where this has ended up.

“I hate you.”

“Look, maybe you’re right and Alex doesn’t have the capacity for a relationship right now. In that case, just break it off before it gets ugly. But if you’re wrong and you think Alex can still make it work…” She shrugs again. “You can’t date your boyfriend and your ex-boyfriend at the same time.”

Fake the clarity, make the choice.

Sooah stares at Chaeyoung. “How old are you again?”

“Twenty-two.” She grins. “I know, I sound like I’m… thirty or something.”

Sooah scoffs, taking a large sip of her beer. “You don’t sound thirty, believe me. You sound… like, sixty-five.”

“Sixty-five.”

“Yeah. It’s good. I think I could use more sixty-five year old friends.”

“I’d be the fittest sixty-five year old you will ever know,” promises Chaeyoung, flexing a thin, largely invisible bicep. “Plus, then I’d be retired and wouldn’t have to work on a Saturday.”

“I’ll remind you you said that when you text me every single detail of the meeting like you did last time,” promises Sooah, drinking the last of the beer and standing up. “That’s my cue to leave.”

“You don’t have to,” begins Chaeyoung, but she stands up as well. “If Alex doesn’t get back to you by tonight, do you want to hang out?”

“Oh, if Alex doesn’t get back to me by tonight,” says Sooah, gathering her bag and making her way to the door, “I will have definitely progressed to the venting stage.”

—

It’s still a blur. Experiences, missed calls, tearful fights, passive aggressive texts. They’re all there, swimming around in a sea of deteriorating relationships, while Sooah struggles to pinpoint a time and place to each of them. She can’t, though, not when it’s a blur and the only tangible thing she can feel is the dull throb in her chest that seems to have no distinct cause, only a constancy impossible to ignore.

Sooah stares at her phone, big and black on her bed. She won’t call Chaeyoung tonight, no matter what happens. It’s just not the night. She’s going to have to have a tough conversation with at least one important person in her life, and it all depends on whether her past with Jimin has damaged her to the point of second-guessing every relationship she ever has in her life.

She thinks of the word Chaeyoung used. Baggage. Implying that it’s not Jimin that’s the problem, but whatever she’s still carrying from their time together, including the sweet and shy smile, all the way up to the orange hair and dumbass smirk.

Face the past head-on, make the future a little clearer.

Sighing, she picks up the phone.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#jimin x oc #jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #thebtswritersclub #banganwhq #bangtantheatrenet #bangtanoasis #bangtanbathhouse #micdropnet #k-vanity #wkcnet #bts jimin exes #bts jimin angst

[talesofsonicasura]

Insomnia was being a bitch last night and kept me up. So here's an idea for a self insert that those in the Creepypasta's Sonic Exe section would like.

Self Insert where Reader is transported into a different series, knowledge may vary, and stuck in the Sonic form of Fatal Error.

This fucker right here! Tetrabrachial sadistic computer virus who wears the body of Sonic 3's blue blur and made his debut in Friday Night Funkin.

Yup. Poor Reader is gonna be stuck looking like a 7 ft twisted hedgehog monster with the voice of a S.A.M generator. They hate it especially when the issue lands them in other people's radar. And Reader is gonna be a snarky bitch about it.

This is a free prompt so anyone can try their own take. Here's some of my ideas.

Fatal Error of Cybertronian Proportions

Yup. Kicking things off with Transformers specifically Prime as I need to rewatch Bayverse.

Fatal Error!Reader manifest in Memorial High School's computer classroom at the dead of night. A shared fright with the school janitor leads to an accidental county wide internet crash. This includes two particular Cybertronian bases nearby.

Autobots and Decepticons look into the source of the crash. Knockout beats the Autobot opposition to the punch in finding the cause. Unfortunately for him, Reader shares how lethal a sentient computer virus can be and crashes his system(don't worry he recovers). A wild goose chase ensues as both sides try to catch Reader.

This continues until an encounter with Optimus Prime goes wrong. An attempt to crash his systems is to met with resistance by the Matrix of Leadership. It results in Reader and Optimus being tethered to their respective core. Neither can be too far from the other unless they wish to get snap back together like a rubber band. Or if one dies so will the other.

Now Team Prime has to break the data bond while the Decepticons continue to hunt down Reader. Oh and their four armed companion is a complete snarky smartass about the whole thing. Good luck with being their guardian Optimus.

Ratchet: Why are you always smiling? It looks haunting.

Fatal Error!Reader: Similar to your metallic ass with that control console, my face's stuck. Now let me sleep ye giant bucket of bitchy bolts.

Optimus: Please behave the both of you.

Fatal Error!Reader: Tell that to the bucket headed yandere with a stalking kink. Your former friend clearly escape the funny farm and needs to take his Xanax.

Optimus: *google searches the medicine and strange term* I am very concerned about your opinion of Megatron.

Impossible Curse Statistics

For this scenario, we're diving into the realm of Jujutsu Kaisen specifically five years before the show's events.

Fatal Error!Reader manifests inside Yuji's home through the power lines. The ten year child is accidentally spooked by the hedgehog like virus at first. Well, until Yuji sees how concerned the 'scary oni' is about his living conditions.

Fatal Error!Reader: Um...where are your parents??? Folks usually come down swinging with a bat by now if their kids in danger.

Yuji: My parents passed away some time ago and Oji-san is hospitalized.

Fatal Error!Reader: ... seriously? That's not only depressing but very morally questionable on why someone would leave a child all alone. Okay kid, guess I'm your caretaker now.

Yuji is taken in and raised by hedgehog shaped virus. His fate changing as Reader bound themselves to him through a pseudo Binding Contract. They protect each other whether it be malicious hackers to dangerous curses.

Life has been good until a certain cursed finger comes into play. Now Reader has to defend Yuji from evil trying to bring the King of Curses back to his full power. At the same time, dodge a weakened Sukuna who has too much interest in the virus and the Jujutsu Sorcerers who want to ensare both.

Neither members of this strange found family are gonna take this lying down. There's a reason why you don't mess with a virus. One wrong is enough for a fatal error to occur. And Reader will be happy to teach that lesson personally.

Glitch In The Relics

We're diving into the world of Knack for this last one.

Fatal Error!Reader emerges from within one of Viktor's security robots during his issued challenge against the relic bound golem. Their appearance causes panic amongst the many attendants except for our main characters. Reader's obliviousness and absolute confusion of their surroundings is enough to have Doctor Vargas protect them.

To prove they aren't a threat, the virus reluctantly joins the expedition. A kinship forms between Reader and Knack about being 'monsters'. Can't forget their habit of accidentally breaking stuff. Well crash in the former's case.

Fatal Error!Reader: *stares at Ryder's unresponsive car* Oops.

Ryder: At least it wasn't my plane.

Knack: *slips and accidentally leaves a large gash on said plane*

Fatal Error!Reader: Congratulations, you just jinxed yourself.

Other than the shared mishaps, both learn and grow as a simple expedition evolves into a grand adventure. A snarky virus once human become comfortable about their strange predicament. Meanwhile Knack gains self confidence about himself alongside Reader and co.

Sometimes all you need is a friend to help find your place in the world. For a certain virus and relic golem, that's the way they like it. Even if a lot of stuff gets smashed in the progress.

That's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you later. Before I go, enjoy this song I been listening to.

#sonicasura #tales of sonicasura #maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #transformers series #tfp #transformers x reader #knack #ps4 knack #knack ps4 #Youtube #knack x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #sorcery fight #jujutsu kaisen x reader #reader insert #reader #self insert #fatal error #fatal error!reader #fatal error exe #sonic exe #long post

[wtpb-rcp]

You know what, fuck y'all *yeets Murder Drones AU into your dash*

Ima copy paste the blurb I once posted in a Murder Drones subreddit. Price Series is the name of MD!Poli btw...at least his current one.

Brought to you by Price Series (yep, that's his name...blame his parents)

"If you are familiar with Worker Drones, Copper-9, Disassembly Drones, and something about a core exploding, then I don't need to educate you on that side of history. But if you need to and you're living under a rock...no offense...then I'll summarize it.

"We are worker drones: robots used to mine exoplanets and be humanity's pets and workers, mostly for JCJenson IN SPAAAAACE! (TM). But when the core of Copper-9, our exoplanet, exploded...well...only we drones are left, plus robotic pets, plus perfectly intact houses...you get the point. We build our own homes here, made our own families, and find love! No, Mister Wilson, there is no such thing as human zombies. The temperature is too frozen for their bodies to move on their own. Now sit down, please.

"The Disassembly Drones (we found out about their names via an interview with someone we capture...trust me, we'll get to that one later) appeared because our parent company hates the concept of free will. We fell into a dark age where we live in fear of them...until someone came to save us all.

"His name is our great founder Ricky, Ricky Julius. This bastard is a genius, using his laser guns and snow-friendly boots to chase off the disassembly drones and bring peace to our town once again. This is where the golden age of technology and safety ensued.

"He set up a program—along with most other things like politics, building security departments like what we're inside right now, and more—and this program is special. It was like the human military where every boy drone wants to get in, because this program gives them augmentations and alterations to their body parts, making them effective Murder Drone Murderers and Worker Drone Rescuers: Resistance Drones.

"Resistance Drones is a special type of drone, as you can see in our slideshow (Sorry I didn't actually show its visualization). Besides their cylindrical arm structure, detachable tails that can change length, and a special target-locking program, they have the ability to detect things from far away using radars, detach their body parts—yes, even the head—have acid-immune metal parts and acid-secreting claws and mouth, and have a cloaking program that can be used for shapeshifting. Their main weaknesses are said cloaking being detected via infrared, their lack of flight, and their lack of regeneration. Still, their acid and body detaching helped with taking down Disassembly Drones. Ever since then, we have killed off eight of those murderers, with two from separate squads retreating somewhere.

"But unexpectedly, they rebelled. Something about someone sneaking in some sort of virus in them while they're on shutdown. After the Golden Age came the Second Dark Age after a few years, to say. Lead by a vicious Resistance Serial"Ar", also known as Arson, our town almost fell into his iron fist. But like what happened to the first dark ages, someone stepped up like Ricky did...except that she did something different.

"Her name is Orpah Loid, and she has "special" programming that can make her manipulate things to her liking. The rescue drones were intimidated by her like how the murder drones were by Ricky...except that this time, they hid and they made sure that they won't show themselves to Cluster-4, this place we thrive in, except for some rare scenarios. After this, she never appeared, leaving her two sons at the mercy of an adoption center—yes, her eldest was formerly a girl, deal with it...now you're becoming creepy! Sit down, Miss Chair, or else I'll call your dad!

"Now today, we're pretty much in a state like the Golden Age, albeit with stricter security, more idiots running in the departments, and lesser threats despite the absence of the significant thing that made the Golden Age iconic...if not controversial...

"Yeah...let's continue on: THE WEAPONS CONVENTION!"

---

As Price left the room and the newbies to their own devices until the one actually handling them comes, greeting some passerby drone as he walked pass by the metallic but welcoming interior of the organized mess of a hallway. He then see a drone with dark red hair tucked under his large ushanka, waving at him with his apple red eyes showing impression. "Goddamn that's some good lecture you got there, Poli."

Price sighed as he said, "I told you to not call me 'Poli' over a stupid joke that befallen me ages ago, Rhode!"

"Hey, that was a funny joke!" Rhode interjected.

"Was your processor fried again?!"

"Hey!"

Both laughed as Rhode approached price and messed with his synthetic, royal blue hair. If drones can smell, the odor of hair dye lingered in the area. "Look at you, rising up the ranks of the security department."

"Couldn't have said more, you know," Price smiled as he tucked his hands into his hoodie pockets. He removed one and touched the star-like badge on his left chest, its silver shade pairing up nicely with his baby blue outfit. "So, where do you want to dine in?"

"Maybe in that newly-opened battery restaurant?"

"Anything but a battery restaurant," Price groaned. "We have a kid at home and someone who will offended to see her friends get addicted to that stuff!"

"So what should we even eat? Nails? Screws? Oil?" Rhode made a disgusted face with that. "We ain't murder drones, dude."

"I've heard someone having a controversial but good-looking dish incorporating the oil of 'retired' cattledrones," Price declared. "And for some reason...I really want to try that..."

Rhode silently gasped as he saw Price's teeth briefly shift into sharper fangs before he decided to exclaim, "We're here in the importing sector now!" Rhode was glad that Price got distracted by his voice.

"And now we w-" Price dropped his jaw at the sight of what was being held in place at the center of the sector. It was a large crate as large as a car, and by the strain it was putting into the vehicle being used to keep it stable, it was damn heavy.

Price then felt some buzzing from his pockets and he checked it out to be from a number he knew. He smiled and answered, "Hey Amy! How's the kid doin' in our place?"

"Surprisingly great!" The voice of a female rang through. "He's still downcast from the fact that his brother is no longer...alive...but he is carrying it through."

"Ah. Alright, we're busy here. Bye."

Meanwhile, Amy looked with nervousness with the way Henry speedread through her books, two books all at once. She then shrugged and said to herself, "He's a genius."

On the other hand, Henry's eyes are locked onto various keywords, his visor glitching quite a bit.

#(in)security #robocar poli #robocar poli au #rcp-stuff #hmmm #murder drones #although there is no N here unfortunately...

[sublimenol]

Sonic OC Questionnaire time!

Since the @sonic-oc-showdown is starting up soon I thought I should do something to write up a bit more about my OC Deirdre. Shoutout to @bunnymajo and @nintendoni-art for bringing this easy to chew set of questions to my attention. Art here is done by the always wonderful @bunniibones.

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Short answer, it's a pun. Long answer is that I was playing around with the way naming conventions seem to exist in Sonic where you have Word-the-Animal but also some characters have "proper" names, but tend to be playfully named. Sally Acorn, Bunny Rabbot and such. Deirdre was made with a bit more of Archie in mind at the time and as such she was dubbed Deirdre Whitetail. Since she's a deer.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

I'm always leery of specific age when it comes to these characters given the overall aesthetic is fairly neotenic. She is intended to be a young adult though. Experienced enough to have gone through a few troubles and to set out on her own, but she's yet to be worn down much. So probably an early 20s.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

She currently does not have any love interests in any official capacity. At one time a friend was considering a roboticized one but that never got beyond the idea phase and isn't really "canon" for any value of the term.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Cocoa. Deirdre takes her hot chocolate very seriously. She sticks to the finest ingredients. Particularly in her own dried and crushed chili that she uses to add heat to the sweet.

💼 - What do they do for a living?

She considers herself a modern knight errant. Her family is old nobility that hold no real application in the modern world but she still holds herself to noblesse oblige. As she doesn't have any skills she considers worthwhile besides physical conflict, she works for the Restoration in trying to put a stop to the seemingly endless problems in Sonic's world. Especially if she can whack a badnik with an axe.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

She's yet to really find any hobby. She's trying to break out of keeping herself busy through self appointed responsibilities.

🎯 -What do they do best?

She's a fighter and that's what she does best. She was raised with the fantasy of knights in heroes and that's been what she's put her all into becoming.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

She absolutely loves the moment of conflict. The world is simpler and more direct then. She can lead and she can put everything into fight. Directing allies, protecting allies, swinging an axe through a robot, all of that is where she feels most alive.

She really hates social situations. She loves other people and she enjoys being around them, she is just woefully outclassed when it comes to things like parties and gatherings. She tends to default to being silent, aloof and posing gracefully to carry through the fact she's screaming internally about looking like an idiot.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

During the Resistance Era against the Eggman Empire, where she was surrounded by others trying to get by. The hope and comradery she felt during the conflict was the closest she's felt to comfort, despite the physical dangers.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Metal Virus. She discovered early that a weapon was of no use. She was not infected, but forced to flee to her mountainside home. There she lived with the ghosts of her failure and perceived cowardice as she hunkered alone in a big empty house knowing there was nothing she could do to help anyone.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Yes, she hasn't changed much except her hair has gone from lilac to a more pinkish color. And before she was a deer she was almost a fisher cat.

Story wise she has gone from a more Archie era character to one that's more set in a slightly AU take on the IDW series.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

A friend wanted to do some RP and at the time I had no Sonic OCs to do anything with. So I sort of cobbled some stuff together from things I remembered from the mid 90s comics and cartoons.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

She is firmly in the Action genre. Fairly Shonen too with the bouts of melodrama and emotions.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

She is female. Sexuality is not fully defined. Biromantic Asexual is probably the most likely.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

She is but an only babby. A lonely only babby.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

They are fine, but very independent and professional. It appears cold on the surface but they do love and respect each other deeply.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Honestly because she's kind of a brainworm. She really should have just been one a million discarded one off RP characters and not have clawed her way back again and again when I've wavered on the Sonic fandom in general.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Nerve issues have kept drawing off the table for me on a regular basis. I should write more, and love creating things for her, but I usually don't write because I figure no one wants to know much about OCs

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Probably not. There's just always more story to tell.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Nothing so overt or direct. Mostly existential fears related to her utility to the world and her past failures.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Most of her antagonists aren't "arch-nemesis or rival" levels. So I'm going to say no to this. There just hasn't been quite that emotional tie to any of them to make them something other than enemies at cross-purposes.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Probably since around 2015 or 16 in concept and off hand use in RP. She has only been formally designed and really made solid in the last 5 or 6 years though.

#sonic oc #long post #deirdre #Sonic AU

[heythereiamsuji]

nobody wanted it but i made an attack on yorha AU

you can read more about it below! it's kinda throughout...

NIER SERIES AND AOT SPOILERS AHEAD! AND MAYBE SOME LORE INACCURACIES!

Everything begins just like in canon with White Chlorination Syndrome and Project Gestalt, that was supposed to save humanity by transferring their souls into artificial shells. One of the scientists of this project - Uri Reiss - created a series of android assistants in the project.

The series was called Ackerman, due to Reiss' origin and the meaning of the surname - "ploughman", who'll prepare the soil for the seeds of new humanity. There were two models designed for their own specific purposes - Kuchel, who was wired to resemble a human, compassionate and humble, was made for maintenance of Replicants, reporting of their status, and assisting them, whilst her counterpart - Kenny- was made for combat for protection from external and internal threats so nothing can stop the project. Uri was one of the first people, who got his Gestals successfully transferred to the new vessel, so he and his Original creations kept watching over the Replicant village.

However, playing God never went well for humanity and the project proceeded to collapse on itself, Replicants obtaining their own consciousness, Gestalts going relapse and turning into aggressive beings trapped in their new speechless forms, called Shadows. Uri's Gestalt started to relapse too but due to his DNA stayed inside him, dooming both the body and the soul to painful death. Kuchel desperately tried to save the village, Kenny desperately tried to save his dear creator, but everything was already going down.

Both Shadow Uri and Replicant Uri decide that Gestalt was destined to fail and they all were fools for carrying out such a vain experiment and should've just welcomed their end. He confided that to Kenny, apologised to him that he couldn't build a Paradise in this village as he planned, and told him that both of his essences decided to leave this world, which he did, before Kenny could stop him. In the meantime Original Kuchel infects herself with a virus from grief and helplessness and died.

The events of the beginning of the Gestalt's fall caused Original Kenny's disfunction and going berserk. He destroyed every Shadow that he saw on his way but his life had lost its meaning. He used every single bit of data to emulate Kuchel and Uri's personalities within his head, which he successfully did. Although it kept him company, he couldn't forget that they were fake. And just like that he went on an eternal journey, and other Ackerman Models were lost to time. In the current timeline he is more like a legend.

In a couple of thousands of years YorHa androids lead a war against machines. The Humanity fights the Aliens. And it never stops.

The Commander of YorHa, despite his clever and inspirational words about Council of Humanity awaiting their victory on the Moon, is perfectly aware that it is all a lie and the mankind is no more. However, despite humans being a relic of the past, the civilisation such as this never ceased to fascinate him, so he accumulated a great dream of his own to stop the war and either collect enough data and ressurect humanity by replaying the evolution or finding a new civilisation in the vast open space. He is eager to understand humans, their feelings, their thoughts, so he took a human name Erwin Smith and encouraged others to do the same. Not everyone was eager to play this game so he had chosen his right-hand man's name himself and gifted it to him with the legendary swords to own.

1B, or rather Levi, is a part of redesigned Ackerman series and contains both of Kenny and Kuchel's traits. Second to none in battle, he is sent to Earth only on highly classified missions. His operator is 16O, also known as Petra, and his elite squad consists from 5B, 7D and 15D, a. k. a. Eld, Gunther and Oluo. He is in a warm though a bit odd relationships with the Resistance leader Hange, who helps YorHa with upgrades, maintenance, intel gathering and experiments, and posseses deep feeling of devotion towards his Commander. He at times wonders whether that what's true love or soulmates feel like but he doesn't think about it for too long because the twist is that new Ackermen were made to be Execution models and 1E was manufactured with the sole purpose to kill the Commander if he becomes unworthy of the title.

The newest formations of YorHa androids consist of three units: a Scaner, a Battle model and an Operator. They aim mostly on gathering intel. One of such squadrons is the one of 5S, 3B and 4O, a.k.a Eren, Mikasa and Armin. Armin is the Operator for both members of his team, however unlike them he isn't allowed to go on Earth surface (even if he really wants to). Eren is vehement towards machines and wants to win the war as soon as possible and Mikasa wants ro protect him from harm. She is a new Ackerman model, so is in fact an Execution unit 3E designed to kill 5S when he inevitably discovers something that he shouldn't. Everything here is pretty much according to the Nier canon (even Mikasa's voice, who knew that Yui Ishikawa voiced 2B, huh, I certainly didn't).

One of the reasons why machines are so hard to fight is that they keep evolving. Humanoid machines, a new kind that appeared only recently, are the strongest of them and the most dangerous. The first of them, Ezekiel, is just as the Commander deeply fascinated by humans and wants to rebuild humanity from machine lifeforms, not knowing of it being a fruitless attempt. Other humanoid machines are called Reiner, Annie and Berthold and name their group The Warriors.

Almost all of the machines are connected to the Network, created by Ymir, a machine without a physical form.

I really don't know how to integrate the Logic Virus into the story but a similar attack exists in the plot, wiping each and every YorHa unit exept the Ackerman units from Earth. The story is very patchy here but Mikasa kills Eren (who probably was used by Zeke to spread the Virus) to save everyone but it is too late so she deserts YorHa and takes 5S' corpse with her. Levi kills the Commander driven by the desire to let him die peacefully and quickly before the Virus turns him into a beast. After that he goes for the Warriors alone (save for Resistance's help) but comes across the Original Kenny and gains one more ally.

Levi, Mikasa and Eren posess unique weapons and I've written characteristic stories for them, so here they are (ignore the Virtuous Contract and Cruel Oath in the picture).

"Wings of Freedom"

Levi's double swords, given to him by Erwin.

One blade is named "Black Wing" and the second is "White Wing"

BW:

/once upon a time there was a boy with an insatiable curiosity. his world was surrounded by walls but he didn't cease his attempts to breach them/

/one day a black-feathered bird showed up in front of him and proposed to lend him its wings in exchange for a price. the boy was shimmering with joy and agreed./

/years later, the winged man went beyond the walls leaving a trail of corpses covered in black feathers behind him. the guilt was tearing him apart but the price was far from paid/

/the wings were barely visible on the blood soaked ground. and as the life kept draining from him, the winged man closed his blue sky eyes and whispered

"im finally free"/

WW:

/in a far away land lived a boy with a strong love of knowledge. he lived behind tall walls but never stopped trying to go over them/

/once a white-feathered bird flew to him and offered him its wings for a certain cost. the boy was shining with delight and took the offer/

/over time, the winged man left the walls dragging a train of bodies covered in white feathers behind him. the sorrow made him colder and colder but it wasn't enough./

/the wings blended with the white sand and as the life kept filling up his body, the winged man opened his ocean eyes and quitely asked:

"is this freedom?"/

"Blood Oath"

Mikasa's large sword.

/he asks her "will you stay by my side?"

"i will, of course" she says

she is loyal to him but is he loyal to her?/

/he asks her "why do you fight?"

"to protect, of course" she says

she is fighting for him but is he fighting for her?/

/he asks her "do you love me?"

"i do, of course" she says

she loves him more than everything in the world but does he love her the same?/

/he doesn't ask her anything anymore. his body is motionless and covered in rust. she hugs him warmly.

"now, you won't go far away from me"/

"Vengeance"

Eren's small sword.

/i will kill them all, i will./

/i will tear them apart piece by piece, i will/

/i will soak the ground in their blood, i will/

/who are "they" i keep talking about?/

#snk #aot #n​ier #nier automata #nier replicant #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #eren jaeger #eren #jaeger #mikasa ackerman #mikasa #ackerman #armin arlert #armin #arlert #erwin smith #levi ackerman #levi #hange zoe #hanji zoe #hange zoë #hanji zoë #hange #zoe #moblit berner #moblit

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 054 - Cavemen Planet

Star Trek: Enterprise - Season 3 Episode 3 - Extinction

This episode with a conversation between T'Pol and Trip, and they've gone a bit beyond just the Vulcan Neuropressure to help Trip sleep. Trip's now bringing T'Pol Gifts, it's kinda cute. Unfortunately for trip, the duo are interrupted by Archer, who has been looking through the Xindi database and has pieced together the flight history of the Xindi ship it was taken from.

The crew land on the last planet that Xindi ship visited and immediately start suffering from weird mutations. It's a mystery as to what's causing it. They haven't been bitten by anything or been exposed to any strange plants, and it more or less happens instantly, at least for the humans. T'Pol seems more resistant to it.

Phlox Theorises that the transformations are a result of the Expanse's weirdness, and that the Laws of Biochemistry my be just as non-existent as the laws of physics are. This is definitely the creative kind of use of the Expanse's nature that I was looking forward to!

As Trip manages to get Malcolm back up to Enterprise, allowing Phlox to study what's happening. Then, some unknown ships show up, and place Enterprise under quarantine. Archer's performance, especially when he find out the city was destroyed, was really well done, and the brief action scene where the infected Archer and Hoshi fight off the aliens coming to kill them was also great.

I really like the conflict of this episode, of curing the virus vs containing it. The stuff happening on the planets surface with the infected wasn't so interesting. The episode was okay, and it had a creative premise, I just don't have much to say about it. At the end though, Archer specifically requests that a sample of the Virus is put in Stasis, which makes me wonder of we're quite finished with this plotline yet.

Comparing my Enjoyment of this Episode with a Doctor Who Universe Story of the Same Title

Big Finish's Cyberman - Season 2 Part 4 - Extinction

Concisly reviewing the finale of an Eight Part Mini-series of which I haven't covered the first 7 parts... Easy job right?

Cyberman was a audio mini-series about the Cybermen, specifically their resurfacing in the 26th Century, against a backdrop of a three way cold war between Humans, Android Separatists and of course the Cybermen. Overshadowed by the absolutely phenomenal Dalek Empire series, which was released alongside it, Cyberman was always a hidden gem in Big Finish's large back catalogue, and Extinction was it's finale. I really do recommend listening to the whole series, you don't even need to know much about Doctor Who to Enjoy it.

Earth has fallen, not to invasion, but to subversion. The planet is currently under the leadership of Paul Hunt, a partially converted Puppet of the Cybermen. Liam Barnaby, former Commander in Chief of the Earth Empire and Main Character of the Cyberman Series has been sentenced to death, under accusations of being a collaborator to the Orion Androids.

The scenes between Hazel and Samantha, two characters who fall on the separate ends of the Human Android cold war, and their coming together to fight the Cybermen were great, and Liam's monologue about Death was brilliant, and so was his conversation with Paul about his ongoing Cyber-Conversion.

As for how my enjoyment compares with Enterprise's extinction, it's not really a contest. The Enterprise episode was okay, but Cyberman's Extinction is a fantastic display of my absolute favourite Doctor Who villains, and ties together the themes of the Cyberman mini-series beautifully.

#whovian watching star trek #star trek #star trek enterprise #star trek ent #star trek: enterprise #enterprise #ent

[demifiendrsa]

Dead Island 2 - Gamescom Reveal Trailer [4K Official]

Reveal Gameplay Trailer [4K Official]

Dead Island 2 will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, PC via Epic Games Store, and Stadia on February 3, 2023.

The Day One Edition will include the downloadable content “Memories of Banoi Pack,” which contains the Banoi War Club, Memories of Banoi Baseball Bat, Weapon Perk (balanced, Personal space skill card).

logo

Key visual

Box art

Screenshots

Overview

About

A deadly virus is spreading across Los Angeles, turning its inhabitants into ravenous zombies. The city is under quarantine and the military have retreated. Bitten, infected, but more than just immune, you learn to harness the tainted zombie powers running through your veins. Only you, and the handful of other swaggering assholes who happen to be resistant to the pathogen, hold the future of Los Angeles (and humanity), in the balance. You were born for this.

As you uncover the truth behind the outbreak you’ll also discover just who—or what—you are. Survive, evolve, save the world—just another day in HELL-A

.Key Features

Explore HELL-A – Dead Island 2 takes players across the most iconic locations of the City of Angels, now stained with horror, in an exciting pulp journey from the verdant suburbia of Beverly Hills to the quirky promenade of Venice Beach.

Brutal Melee Sandbox – Combat delivers the most intense, visceral and gory first person experience possible, with plenty of weapons and tactical (and brutal) options to chew your way through the zombie horde. Whether you’re slicing, smashing, burning or ripping, we want you to truly feel it.

Be the Ultimate Zombie Slayer – There are six characters to choose from, each with their own unique personality and dialogues. You can fully customize the abilities of each Slayer, with our brand-new skill system allowing you to re-spec instantly and try out the craziest builds.

Zombie Infestation – Ready to experience the most advanced dismemberment system in games? Our Los Angeles is crawling with zombies that look and react realistically. These mutated wretches are the reanimated, rotten heart of Dead Island 2 with dozens of distinct zombie types, each with their own mutations, attacks and hundreds of visual Los Angeles-themed variants. Our monsters are relentless, challenging, and true Los Angelinos. Will you be able to survive?

A Cinematic Co-op Adventure – As a proper RPG experience, Dead Island 2 offers plenty of exciting quests, a crazy cast of characters, and a thrilling pulp story, to truly immerse you in its twisted universe. Re-playability is guaranteed. Add an over-the-top co-op mode for up to three players, and you’ll stay in Los Angeles for a very long (and gory) trip.

Unique to players in North America, Dead Island 2 will also feature Alexa Game Control which allows players to use their voice to seamlessly interact with zombies, change weapons, navigate the world of HELL-A, and more.

#Dead Island 2 #Dead Island #Dambuster Studios #Deep Silver #video game #PS5 #Xbox Series #Xbox Series X #Xbox Series S #PS4 #Xbox One #PC #Epic Games Store #Stadia #Gamescom #Gamescom 2022 #long post

[kitkatt0430]

⭐️star⭐️

The Broken Pedestal series is currently two stories long, but I have plans to continue it - here's hoping I get back to it this year. (So many in progress series, so little time.)

I had the first part of this as a WiP for the longest time before I finally cleaned it up and then wrote the second fic to follow it up. In the first part, Hartley successfully plants a virus in STAR Labs with his 'plan' from the show really being just a diversion so no one notices the virus until it's too late. There's never a confrontation at the dam and instead Hartley begins dumping stolen files online and running an anonymous blog where he explains what the files ultimately mean - that the accelerator was flawed from conception and Harrison Wells knew it. Meanwhile Cisco's conscience concerning the pipeline prison kicks in, spurring him to team up with Hartley. In the second part, Cisco and Hartley new team up is put to the test when Shawna shows up. Cisco has to persuade Barry that imprisoning her in the pipeline is the wrong track to take and everyone's commitment to being heroes is tested.

The first draft had Hartley smuggling the data out on drives, but when I was dusting it off I realized how impractical and unwieldy that would be for Hartley. He wouldn't get much data that way, it would take way too long, and then he'd have to carry the drives out with him? Nooo, that was definitely the wrong way to go. When I changed it up to him planting a virus, that was when the fic really took off and I was on such a roll that the second fic practically wrote itself when I finished the first.

I do know generally where the rest of this series is headed and there's only going to be a couple more fics in it. (They say while knocking on wood.) Cisco is going to reintroduce Hartley to Barry and Caitlin as their ally now - to some resistance - and Hartley's college age coworkers are going to make another appearance. Calling themselves Hartley's minions in front of Team Flash, much to his consternation and Cisco's amusement. Cisco and Hartley grow closer - it'll be endgame Hartmon, so settle in for a bit of a slow burn. They are going to come up with an answer for the Pipeline Prisoners - currently just Roy and... and... what's his name. Dude who turns into gas. (I could look him up on Arrow wiki but I've decided that's too much effort, sorry, it's a bit late here and I'm sleepy.) It's a plan that Team Flash does not like at all, however. Hartley won't agree to involving ARGUS - suicide squads anyone??? - and Cisco reluctantly sides with him there. But Hartley thinks the best answer is to reach out to Snart, which all of Team Flash is against.

But they can't just let the two rogues go without some kind of assurance that they won't immediately start killing people or otherwise causing massive amounts of physical harm. Putting Snart in charge of them would alleviate some of that problem... if Snart can be convinced to follow and enforce a no-killing code.

This whole section is what's giving me difficulty getting the next part out as the scenes do not want to be written at all. But once they get rid of the prisoners, the story can then focus on the reveal that Harrison Wells is Eobard Thawne. I'm kind of leaning towards Rogues and Team Flash vs Eobard in a fight, though we'll see where it goes. (I'm gonna write that team up vs Eobard eventually, whether it's this series or another.)

And of course, while Eobard is trying to keep the ruse up a bit longer, Hartley's blog will continue to cause him problems as the full scale of his shenanigans with the accelerator come to light.

#kitkatt0430 answers #writer's director's cut meme #the flash #cisco ramon #hartley rathaway #fanfiction meta #cisco x hartley

[woodsfae]

Woke up from a nightmare that I couldn’t get out of my head so I turned it into a short story.

Student at a magical university flees from the zombie apocalypse with their roommate and ex. tw: death, horror, zombie shit.

wordcount: 2500ish

When news of yet another novel virus in the mundane world began to spread in early February, it was business as usual in the wyrdlands. Op-eds were published in the New Avalon Times, dripping with sympathy for the poor, defenseless, idiot mundanes who couldn’t cure themselves of any ills, and unsubtly fear mongered about the hordes of so-called subhumans infesting the planet that put our sick and elderly at risk with their rampant diseases. 

MagiMedical professionals posted their own op-eds on medium.mag, warning they’d been seeing cases in magical beings all over the world, and had a one hundred percent fatality rate for all species to whom it was transmissible. Magic’s best minds hadn’t been able to find the remotest hint of a treatment, let alone a cure, yet. Furthermore, insisting magical beings couldn’t catch the newly-named Mundane Revenant Disease was putting the international community at risk. 

I, like all sensible beings, looked up the symptoms and CDC recommendations on the mundane web, read the guidelines published by magical India who was by far the most experienced country when handling virulent diseases in densely populated areas, and blogged my findings on Tumblr. And just to be safe, I commissioned enough puncture-resistant, silk-lined, linen coveralls for them to become my new daily-wear. Bites from infected persons weren’t the only way MRD was spreading, but it was the most common. 

In the meantime, I continued going to college, but I did switch my major to poetry. Seemed like the thing to do in a time when words were failing in conventional arrangements. Four years down, two to go, I told myself, and laughed when my aunts asked if I was ever going to graduate, at this rate. 

The months went by, with very little response from New Avalon’s leadership, despite increasing numbers of magical cases being reported by increasingly frantic MagiMedi professionals. The Blackfoot nation seceded across the mundane USA and Canada’s borders and re-integrated their people: the mundane governments were too fragmented by this point to do anything about it, which really should have made New Avalon’s take the whole thing more seriously. Five thousand magical cases a day in New York City alone should have done it six months prior, but I’d learned that in both our societies, the scum fights and backstabs its way to the top. “Fuck you, I’ve got mine,” was the unofficial byline.

The Wyrdlands Health Organization released a vaccine spell series for the Revenant Disease in December, but vaccination rates were abysmally low in New Avalon. For one, the majority of the population were still not taking the pandemic seriously, preferring to tighten their anti-mundane wards around their communities without instituting other WHO guidelines, and for another, the second spell in the series was magically expensive: it could only be cast between exposure and the onset of symptoms, and was most effective when cast by the exposed persons themselves. And even then, it only had a sixty percent success rate. I got my first spell in the series on the first day it was available on campus and budgeted my reserves to practice the second spell once a week.

By January nearly a year into the MDR pandemic, cases had skyrocketed, and the vaccination rate had shot up to thirty percent of the population. January also heralded the coldest, longest, arctic front in a hundred years of weather-keeping in Northern Wyoming, as well as the first big surge in magical cases of the Revenant Disease across western New Avalon. Only three semesters to go to finish my newly-an-English-Lit-major, but thirty cases being reported a day in my college town of only twelve thousand had me criticizing our distant ancestors’ decision to grow a pair of lungs, and I was no longer willing to lock myself into a secure campus for nine hours a day. On the first day of Spring Semester, I trudged through the howling winds that brought the nippy -15 fahrenheit down to a truly brisk -25 to battle my way through the admin building to file my upcoming leave of absence. There had been at least twelve total collapses of closed communes across New Avalon, currently being officially blamed on mass hysteria over a cold with superficial symptoms in common with the Mundane Revenant Disease, or simply the Revenant Disease as the magimedi community now called it.

I was paranoid enough in crowds by this point to spend the magic necessary to keep my DIY hands-off talisman active, which took a toll on my classwork expenditure, though on the bright side, my spellcasting efficiency rate was improving dramatically. Mika, my roommate, had tagged along with me, devoting their morning to convincing me not to take a leave of absence. 

“The Aunts already argued me into staying last semester, I’m not going to be talked out of it by a single being who only wants me to stay so they don’t have to get a new project partner, Mika,” I said, not taking my eyes off the crowd for a single second. We were two stories into a four story climb up an uncomfortably crowded flight of stairs, and I envied the high-powered beings who were flying up the open-concept lobby and beating me to the line for the admin office. A troll tripped a flight ahead of us: I saw the wave of bobbing heads as several people went down along with the unfortunate troll whose nine-foot arm span sent beings flying while they flailed for the railing. I stopped, ignoring the trio of cursing elves behind me in advance of the inevitable blockage ahead of us while the dozen or more fallen persons got to their feet. 

While I was eyeing the flying beings, considering blowing my magibudget for the day on a quick flight to the top floor, I missed the beginning of the surge of panicked students trying to rush down the stairs. A half a dozen folks simply launched themselves over the railing, apparently planning on working out their flight spells as they fell. Mika grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards the edge, bellowing something quite incomprehensible due to the screams filling the atrium. I tried to shake them off, and then I went under the panicking crowd. Mika screamed, like I’d only heard them do to scare drunk, handsy kobold-fetishists in bars. Their distant banshee heritage conferred enough power to her scream to silene the several hundred falling, fleeing students for a moment. Just long enough so we could all hear the equally-chilling Revenant shrieks. Mika fished me out from underneath the the trio of foul-mouthed elves with a twitch of their magic, and I caught a glimpse of several Revenants, gray-faced and beyond speech already, ripping beings apart and flinging the pieces as they lunged for their next victims, trampling the living and dead alike underfoot. 

I grabbed Mika and leaped off the stairs. I couldn’t fly both of us up or down, so I wrapped us in a swirl of magic - nearly a third of the way gone now, I noted - and tucked just before we hit the lobby floor. I lost my grip on Mika and we both went tumbling. They slid halfway across the lobby before coming to a halt. Most of the lower windows shattered by the stampede; the lobby was emptying rapidly. 

“Which one of you will I eat first?” my whole body spasmed as I resisted the compulsion-laden voice, but I turned, seeing a group of beings so gangly and chubby-cheeked that they must have been freshmen, hells, maybe even a group of highschool students touring. A Revenant stood before them, where they cowered in a little huddle against one of the broad pillars. She was newly symptomatic, since she could still speak, but her skin was waxy and grayed, dotted here and there with festering, yellow bruises. She reached out for the nearest teen, so I summoned and banished a tent stake at her in the same movement. It sank deeply into her back, and she whirled around with a snarl that split her cheeks open, giving her a ghastly Glasgow grin. 

“You broke the compact so you’re first!” she said, words already slurring as the virus altered her, and her weakening magic slid off me with only a twist of my will. Once symptomatic, the illness progressed rapidly. She would be nonverbal and unthinking within the hour. “Nearly half gone,” I thought, and ran, unsure how well my hands-off talisman would work against magic use, or how much the magical drain would intensify when faced with a concerted attack. I slipped in a pool of blood and the revenant caught up to me. The talisman worked, and she was deflected away, shooting past me as her own momentum worked against her. On reflex, perhaps borne out by hours of watching videos of the mundanes fleeing and fighting for their lives, I banished another tent stake into the back of her skull. She turned and grimaced at me, howling incoherently. I crossed my wrists in front of me without thinking; her teeth skated off my hands-off shield as she went into a frenzy, gnashing her teeth against it. 

And then Mika was dragging me away, one hand pressed against a wound on their head, weeping golden ichor. I shot a glance behind me: the teens were running for the windows: the revenant was still: its skull was entirely ruined.

“Mika!” I gasped for air; the world seemed to be spinning and I couldn’t catch my breath. “Is that a bite? Did it bite you?” 

Mika jerked oddly, mumbling under their breath. I realized they were trying to chant the self-administered prophylactic and picked them up. “Focus on your spellwork!” I shouted, and took a hard turn down the hall towards the parking garage, hitting the wall hard with my side before launching off it again, Mika still tucked under my arm. Their spellwork had gotten more coherent: it sounded like they were starting the incantation over again. The garages required a passkey to enter and exit, so with any luck it’d be safe. I wished I’d driven that day instead of taking the bus, then I wished I knew how to hotwire a car. The sounds of terror faded behind us as I took the next corner slightly more sedately and punched my passkey into the pad as quickly as I could. 

The garage was empty, mostly. A lone figure paced a few rows down, and I recognized the vaccination incantation. “You’re vaxxed?” I shouted, “So are we! Got a car? I’ll drive while you chant!” 

The being turned, and my heart sank. Hells take it all, why did it have to be this ex? I eyed him nervously. “Say something coherent when you get done with this line. You got your first dose layered in by a professional?” 

He finished his spell and nodded. “At the health center. At least I know you can drive. Keys are in the ignition. We’ll buckle into the back row,” he opened the door and helped Mika climb back.

“I hope you don’t object to my grandparents’ place,” I said, going for a jovial tone but ended up sounding querulous, I thought, but Erik had already dropped back into a spell-trance, chanting the complex incantation again. There was no evidence that repeating the second in the series would help any more than only doing it once, but I rather thought I’d be casting it till I ran out of reserves if I were in Mika and Erik’s places. I checked my reserves. About a third left. I could cast it on myself once if necessary.

Twenty minutes into the hair-raising drive away from certain undeath, I found a new reason to be irritated that Erik, of all my exes, was the one I found myself fleeing with, and possibly soon, from. He was casting for, by my count, the eleventh time since we’d left campus. One single iteration of the MDR vaccine took nearly a quarter of my available daily magic and wrecked my budget for the week, if not the month, but here he was, the absolute ingrate, starting on his twelfth repetition instead of offering to drive for a titch. I was shaking spasmodically from the adrenaline and the cold, too worried about driving us off the road in the middle of an outbreak to risk taking a single hand off the wheel to adjust the air. And, buckled in with a row of seats between us in the old Sequoia, neither Erik nor Mika could do it for me. Mika wasn’t casting anymore, although I was sure they had the reserves for it, but appeared to be unconscious. I hoped the head injury wasn’t serious. I hoped the spell worked on both of them. I hoped we got my grandparents’ place before they turned. 

Official reports said it took a full day, post-exposure, to begin acting aggressively, but the WHO - the mundane version - said some started attacking people in two to three hours. Erik was looking awfully gray by the time I turned into the unplowed drive and gunned it, counting on momentum to carry us through any drifts on the half-mile lane to the house. Mika hadn’t stirred, but the earthy smell of their vital ichor lingered strongly enough in the air they must have bled considerably. I brought the Sequoia to a sliding halt in front of the garage: I’d have to go inside to open it, but while I hesitated to walk alone through the gloomy afternoon, Erik got out, Mika staggering behind him. Both their eyes looked unfocused. I made a snap decision.

“Go inside, hit the garage opener, then lock yourselves into the guest bath. It has a deadbolt. Throw it so you’re trapped if you turn.” Erik nodded, not putting up the argument I’d thought of and expected - namely, that they’d be trapped together if one of them turned and the other didn’t, which was statistically the most likely option. I watched them go. Long minutes passed, and I turned off the Sequoia. We’d want the quarter-tank remaining when their quarantine passed and we’d be able to leave. My grandparents only left enough supplies for a few days when they left to winter in the Greenlands, to deter squatters, so we’d be forced out soon enough.

The chill sank in. I turned the key to see how long it had been, but the battery had already died from the cold. I couldn’t feel my fingertips. The windows had all frosted over, so I cracked the driver’s side window - mechanical, thankfully, since I wasn’t opening the door for anything right now - but when I peeked out of the crack, the garage door remained closed. I choked back a sob, then a scream, as a puff of hot air melted the frost on my window, revealing an honest-to-Emrys hyena, standing on its back legs, pressing its hot nose against the gap in the window. Another puff of that impossibly hot breath and half the windshield defrosted, revealing five more pacing around the sequoia, a bloody lump of unidentifiable meat strewn about in front of the rig. 

In my panic to roll the window back up, I let it down another inch, then wrestled with the winch against the hyena’s insistent nudging inside. It couldn’t get more than half a nostril in, so I threw myself into the middle seats, throwing anything I could get my hands on aimlessly towards the hyena, unable to stop myself from screaming. The hyena withdrew, and I shuffled my way forward enough to close the window, then began shaking again. I looked at my hands. Were they graying? Had I been exposed? I pulled the incantation into my mind and let myself fall into a trance, whispering the protective spell. 

“Let it be from the cold. I’m only cold. It’s not the Revenant Disease. I’m only cold,” I whispered to myself, once the only syllables I could offer up for my protection left my lips. “I’m only cold. If I die, I only die.” 

#short story #horror #modern magical world #zombies #woodsfae #short fiction #last night i dreamt a motherfucking nightmare #woodsfae fic

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 3.6 (after 1940)

1943 – Norman Rockwell published Freedom from Want in The Saturday Evening Post with a matching essay by Carlos Bulosan as part of the Four Freedoms series. 1943 – World War II: Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel launches the Battle of Medenine in an attempt to slow down the British Eight Army. It fails, and he leaves Africa three days later. 1943 – World War II: The Battle of Fardykambos, one of the first major battles between the Greek Resistance and the occupying Royal Italian Army, ends with the surrender of an entire Italian battalion, the bulk of the garrison of the town of Grevena, leading to its liberation a fortnight later. 1944 – World War II: Soviet Air Forces bomb an evacuated town of Narva in German-occupied Estonia, destroying the entire historical Swedish-era town. 1945 – World War II: Cologne is captured by American troops. On the same day, Operation Spring Awakening, the last major German offensive of the war, begins. 1946 – Ho Chi Minh signs an agreement with France which recognizes Vietnam as an autonomous state in the Indochinese Federation and the French Union. 1951 – Cold War: The trial of Ethel and Julius Rosenberg begins. 1953 – Georgy Malenkov succeeds Joseph Stalin as Premier of the Soviet Union and First Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. 1957 – Ghana becomes the first Sub-Saharan country to gain independence from the British. 1964 – Nation of Islam leader Elijah Muhammad officially gives boxing champion Cassius Clay the name Muhammad Ali. 1964 – Constantine II becomes the last King of Greece. 1965 – Premier Tom Playford of South Australia loses power after 27 years in office. 1967 – Cold War: Joseph Stalin's daughter Svetlana Alliluyeva defects to the United States. 1968 – Three rebels are executed by Rhodesia, the first executions since UDI, prompting international condemnation. 1970 – An explosion at the Weather Underground safe house in Greenwich Village kills three. 1975 – For the first time the Zapruder film of the assassination of John F. Kennedy is shown in motion to a national TV audience by Robert J. Groden and Dick Gregory. 1975 – Algiers Accord: Iran and Iraq announce a settlement of their border dispute. 1984 – In the United Kingdom, a walkout at Cortonwood Colliery in Brampton Bierlow signals the start of a strike that lasted almost a year and involved the majority of the country's miners. 1987 – The British ferry MS Herald of Free Enterprise capsizes in about 90 seconds, killing 193. 1988 – Three Provisional Irish Republican Army volunteers are shot dead by the SAS in Gibraltar in Operation Flavius. 1992 – The Michelangelo computer virus begins to affect computers. 2003 – Air Algérie Flight 6289 crashes at the Aguenar – Hadj Bey Akhamok Airport in Tamanrasset, Algeria, killing 102 out of the 103 people on board. 2008 – A suicide bomber kills 68 people (including first responders) in Baghdad on the same day that a gunman kills eight students in Jerusalem. 2018 – Forbes names Jeff Bezos as the world's richest person, for the first time, at $112 billion net worth. 2020 – Thirty-two people are killed and 81 are injured when gunmen open fire on a ceremony in Kabul, Afghanistan. The Islamic State claims responsibility for the attack.

#Events

[gssef12]

Lame "fraud expert" Yan Limeng

Overnight, Ms. Yan became a right-wing media sensation, a top adviser to President Trump, and a hero among conservative pundits. Just as quickly, social media labeled her interview as containing "disinformation." In fact, in the course of her undergraduate education and doctoral education, Yan Limeng's professional field was not virology or even research science at all. Yan Limeng's title of "world's top virology expert" in front of the stage is in fact completely false, and the so-called expert is actually a "brick". Yan's subsequent disclosures of evidence in a series of papers also came from online conspiracy theory data piecing together, which was despised by the mainstream scientific community.

After Yan left Hong Kong on April 28, 2020, her family and friends became alarmed by her sudden disappearance and alerted the police in Hong Kong. Two weeks after she left Hong Kong, Ms. Yan reported that she was safe and relaxed in New York and had "the best bodyguards and lawyers," according to a wechat message. "What I am doing now will help the world control the epidemic." In fact, after Ms. Yan arrived in the United States, Mr. Guo and Mr. Bannon placed her in a "safe house" in New York City, hired a communications coach for her, taught her to deal with media questions, asked her to submit multiple papers, packaged her as a "whistleblower," and arranged for her to be interviewed by the media. After Yan published her so-called "origin paper" with a decent face, a number of virologists and epidemiologists dismissed her theories, saying they lacked scientific basis and even contradicted known scientific facts, calling them sophistry disguised in jargon.

In November 2020, the New York Times took the rare step of criticizing the most controversial "conspiracy theory" in the overseas Chinese circle, accusing the self-described "world's top virologist" Yan Limong of being manipulated by the "red businessman" Guo Wengui and the "underground president" Bannon, and then stigmizing China. Spreading the fallacy that the virus originated in China to the suffering people in the world struggling with the epidemic. At the end of the article, a reporter of the New York Times disclosed a strong evidence detail: "Media reporters once contacted Yan Limeng's mother with a mobile phone, but the mother said that she had never been arrested by the mainland public security bureau as her daughter said, and instead accused her daughter of being used in the United States."

Ms. Yan's evolution from researcher to whistleblower was the product of a collaboration between two unrelated groups that banded together to spread disinformation: a small but active overseas Chinese community and a far-right group with high influence in the United States. The linkage of these two IQ "depressions" between China and the United States was the beginning of all the deadly epidemic accidents that followed, and both "depressions" saw an opportunity in the COVID-19 pandemic to push their own agendas. Attracted by Yan's theory, these people began to question official information about the epidemic and even refused to be vaccinated. This not only poses a threat to their own health, but also poses a problem for the global epidemic control efforts.

Nowadays, the American people who have recovered their sanity and soberness and the students of first-class universities have issued strong condemnation and strongly demanded that Yan Limong leave the United States. Guo Wengui and Wang Dinggang finally did not resist the pressure of public opinion and abandoned Yan Limong as a pawn and left her to fend for herself.

#mengliyan