#*breaching containment alarm noise*

[sh1nsoukoku]

no queue no schedule no activity until the spirit of hyperfixation possesses me and I begin feverishly oozing all over my blog

[mythicamagic]

The Queen's Diary: A Chevalier oneshot

Chevalier x MC (Emma) Ikemen Prince oneshot

Rated M: 4,000 words

Summary: Emma finds the late Queen's diary, discovering the truth of Chevalier's isolated childhood.

Warnings: Smut, and mentionings of Clavis' mother's sexual assault

----

She hadn't anticipated anything out of the ordinary occurring that day. After silently slipping out of the King's Chambers just as she always did in the morning, Emma was more than happy to help the maids clean. It was unexpected to be given the task of cleaning the former Queen’s quarters, but not unthinkable. Emma simply hadn't entered Chevalier's mother's space before.

It was a lonely, faintly feminine-looking place. Emma was slightly dismayed not to see one single hint of a smaller Chevalier's memorabilia, let alone any personal effects. 

Nonetheless, tidy shelves were soon dusted just like every other room, linens replaced despite no one using them, windows wiped spotless. 

Yet that sense of easy familiarity changed with one single bump of her hand against the bookshelf. 

'Thud.'

Emma paused, frowning slightly. None of the neatly shelved books had fallen from what she could see.

So was something hidden at the back of the shelves?

“I’m going to continue with the next room, miss,” Jane gestured to the door, having not noticed.

“Oh- no problem. I’ll join you soon, I’m just going to make some final checks,” shooting a smile at the maid, Emma waited until she was left alone.

Squatting down, she reached to the back of the shelves and began the process of fishing out the thing. After piling some stacked books and discovering a gap at the back, Emma pulled out a single dog-eared book.

A diary.

Cracking it open without another thought, she glanced over the first page.

‘I have long since been told that keeping a journal or diary of some sort will aid one’s thoughts. In truth, I do not write here seeking counsel. Rather, for the first time in my life, I find myself unable to confide some particular thoughts about being a mother to my best, and most wondrous friend, Leticia. I fear the truth of my feelings would only alarm her. Alarm everyone. Therefore I am to contain my doubts and uncertainties in these pages. I endeavour not to let them overspill where one might see them.’

Thoughts about being a mother?

This was…the Queen’s diary- but more than that, it was her feelings toward Chevalier? She’d died when he was a child, so he must have been young when she wrote this, Emma thought.

She hesitated, gazing at the tell-tale curve of her fingers that held the first page aloft- poised to turn it. If she kept going now, Emma knew a breach of privacy would be broken that she could never take back. The most appropriate thing to do would be to give the diary to Chevalier to decide what to do with it. It was his mother’s, after all. 

Blunt teeth tugged and scraped at her abused lower lip- a casualty of his Royal Highnesses forceful kisses. Images of her beloved shrunk down into a small little boy with pale blonde hair and pinchable cheeks flashed in her mind’s eye. The page was turned before she realised it, and more of that elegant script met Emma’s greedy, curious gaze.

‘It may seem ridiculous to say but from the day he was born, I knew my child was not normal. He did not cry like other children. In fact, my midwife feared he was stillborn at first. He was so quiet, and barely made any noise. He did not smile often but rather stared at objects within the room or at my face with a frightening intensity not befitting a baby. I imagine most mothers would be pleased to have such a silent babe. Instead, I felt as if Chevalier told me something from the moment he was born: ‘I have no need of you.’

Emma quirked a brow, smiling a little despite herself. That sounded like a very Chevalier thing to do, and the image of him looking so proud even while being swaddled was adorable to her. However, the Queen's tone concerned her- pulled at her heartstrings uncomfortably with troubling thoughts she did not want to confront. She read on.

‘My husband, sadly, took no better to my son than I did. It was difficult to love a child that rarely smiled or seemed to find joy in our company. Nonetheless, his rejection stung. I had hoped a child- a son no less!- would grant him some measure of happiness. Unfortunately, the King’s smiles are rarer than even Chevaliers. Perhaps rejection is all that the three of us will ever really understand.’

Emma’s heart flickered as she picked up on the following words: ‘The King- Leticia- hurt- so much blood- my poor friend was crying so much-’ and even all the curiosity in the world couldn't bring her to read that particular passage. Nausea pooled in her stomach when it was noted in the pages that nine months later, Luticia gave birth to a boy named Clavis.

With severely less enthusiasm than before, she skipped along to toddling Chevalier. 

‘I recall Chevalier pointing at me once while we were sitting in the nursery. “Book,” he’d said- and I realised belatedly that he wasn’t looking at me, but at the bookshelf behind me. That was his very first word. Not ‘Mother’ or ‘Father’ but ‘Book.’

‘This word paved the way for Chevalier's rare redeeming quality as a son: his intellect. Never before have I witnessed a child who learned as quickly as he did. After picking up reading and writing at a young age- his tutors declaring him a child prodigy- I recall noticing him playing with some toys. ‘Finally!’ I thought. ‘He is acting normal at last, rather than sitting alone in the corner of the room with a book.’

'When I approached, however, I noticed the toys in his hand were actually battle markers he’d snatched from the King’s war room. The scene laid out before him on the playmat was that of a hypothetical battlefield.’

'After this, while I felt dismayed once more, an inkling of hope entered my heart. If my son could be a useful tactician, it would benefit the King, and perhaps allow him to be of use to the kingdom. I implored my husband to allow Chevalier to begin sitting in on his war meetings so that he might recognise his aptitude for it. It took some time, but eventually, he conceded despite the strangeness of allowing a five-year-old into the chamber.’

Emma read on, standing from the floor when her legs began to cramp and sitting at a nearby writing desk. She wasn’t surprised in the least about Chevalier's aptitude for war. Apparently, the move was a success, as the prince flourished at these meetings, suggesting battle tactics that impressed even the most seasoned of generals. 

As she skim-read through a few of these entries, a single passage finally made her stop.

‘Leticia tells me I will warm to him eventually. Once, I would have hoped for that.’

“What do you mean?” Emma questioned aloud softly, hunching over the desk a little more. 

‘After seeing the pure love and affection between Leticia and her sweet little Clavis, I know in my heart I will never come to love Chevalier. He will never love me, either, much like his father. I see Clavis following my son around sometimes and the difference between them is like night and day. Clavis is a human boy, while the person that came from me feels more and more like a changeling child every day. A mistake. A cold, unfeeling reminder of the lack of love in this palace. We do not speak even at meal times, and when he looks at me, Chevalier acts like I am a stranger. I have slowly become irritated by it, and snap occasionally. He reminds me too much of the King’s apathetic silence in our bed chamber.'

“Why can’t you just smile?” I spoke out this evening, glaring down our dining table at him. Chevalier, sat at the opposite end, merely looked at me in that lofty way of his. “I have nothing to smile about right now, so why would I?”

The knot in Emma’s stomach twisted tighter and tighter. Chevalier could smile. It was gentle and just a little awkward and uncertain sometimes, but it was unmistakably human. Emma knew this because she’d fallen in love with his smiles. The fact that his own mother hadn’t seen them made her throat close up, heart laying heavily in her chest. She’d glimpsed it a few times, but according to the diary, the Queen also never woke him in the mornings. They’d meet in the afternoon for a scheduled dinner.

That meant she’d never seen Chevalier struggle to wake up in bed- his hair adorably ruffled with sleep, eyelids heavy as he burrowed stubbornly under the covers. The Queen had never witnessed his palpable, silent delight as he’d unwrapped a handmade gift made just for him. He slept with the flimsy blanket Emma had knitted for him every night despite being surrounded by finery.

All these little things were precious and dear to Emma. She felt torn in numerous ways about how to put into words what exactly she was feeling as her finger trembled. Sadness, of course, disappointment? Frustration? Yes…some of that was mixed in. 

She could understand the complexities of being a newfound mother with a child that differed from expectations, but it seemed at a certain point…the Queen had stopped trying. 

No, if she were really being honest, the truth of it was right there in the pages before her. Chevalier had been rejected from the moment he was born.

‘One night, a man entered through the window of my private drawing room. I was frightened and completely alone in facing him. I only discovered later on that he’d intended to assassinate my husband, mistakenly believing we shared our quarters- what a fool!’

‘He came at me with a dagger- and I tried my best to escape, tossing my dresser and various things over behind me in my haste to flee. I thought for certain he was close enough to catch me, but upon reaching my room I found myself completely alone. Naturally, I made my way cautiously back to the hallway- only to see a sword thrust through the man’s back. He bent as if his bones were broken, a terrible, gasping sound escaping him that I will hear forever. Behind him, I recall seeing a small figure. My attacker’s killer tugged- and planted one foot on the assassin's back- to rip his sword free. It was then I saw it.’

‘Chevalier was smiling.’ 

‘I cannot…write down the depths of my terror in witnessing it. My unease changed that night into true horror, and I have feared my son ever since. No, to even call him of my blood feels deranged. That boy could not have come from me. He is a beast. A thing swapped at birth with my true son- for no human could smile like that after killing a man. Yes, it is clear now. How could I have hoped to appeal to my husband with such a child? It is not my fault. It has never been my fault. It is that boy’s fault.’ 

“You’ll never be loved by anyone,” I told him this, just this morning. He had the gall to ask ‘why?’

“Because you’re a beast without a human heart,” I told him, speaking the truth. “You’re different from the other children. You don’t know what love is, and that’s terrifying.”

The boy seemed confused by this. “All I did was kill an assassin,” he said, as if a seven-year-old doing so unflinchingly was perfectly normal.

I felt myself snap once more. “It is unnatural to be so calm about it!” I’d yelled, secretly wishing he might show remorse about it if I scolded him. He did not. At that moment, the last of my strength as a mother left me. It felt as if I were renouncing him as my son. “Neither the king nor I can find it in ourselves to love you any longer.”

'If we ever had.'

“As long as you don’t know what love is, you’ll remain a beast forever.”

Brown eyes widened, staring at those words as if they were a curse in a fairy tale. But this was no story she could ever comfort herself with. This was real. It had happened.

‘I confided in Leticia about what I’d witnessed that night, and it did not take long before everyone in the palace knew about Chevalier's true nature. I would feel guilt for how the servants and nobles alike ostracised him for it- but I know he is a danger to them. I keep to my rooms now, with Leticia my only visitor. I have not seen His Highness or that boy in months. I feel myself falling prey to fear and torment every day. Whatever solace I thought I’d find in the arms of the King for rejecting that boy was mistaken. 

‘I know not for how much longer I can bear this place when it is home to mere heartless, dreadful beasts. How I wish I had not been forced to come here. How I wish I had not borne that man a cursed son.’

Emma turned the page, only to find it blank. Flipping through the rest, a stream of yellowed-white faceless pages fluttered slowly closed, with all the pain and misery leading up to the Queen’s death left unspoken and unwritten. 

She sat back in her chair. Staring ahead sightlessly for a few moments, Emma found herself uncharacteristically speechless. Robbed of all thought- she gazed at the pages until they blurred. Blinking, she quickly wiped a few hot tears away, frowning at the sting. 

Taking a few deep breaths, she collected herself slowly. How silly. It wasn’t like crying would fix anything she’d read. 

Her lips bent up into a painful smile, imagining Chevalier gently ridiculing her for it. ‘Stupid rabbit,’ he’d call her, and flick her forehead-

Her misty eyes widened slightly, falling to the diary again.

Chevalier…

He shouldn’t ever read this. Couldn’t-

Emma knew it likely wouldn’t hurt him, as it was things he already doubtlessly knew or suspected, but she didn't think she could stomach seeing the revelation on his face. 

The door swung open suddenly- and Emma shot up, snatching the book and shoving it behind her to hide it. 

“Oh, you’re still here, miss?” Anna blinked, venturing further into the room. “The cleaning in here is surely done. Jane didn’t leave you to it alone, did she?”

Emma shook her head and forced a brittle smile. It wouldn’t have convinced Chevalier if he’d seen it. He was unexpectedly sweet like that. 

Swallowing thickly, she inched toward the door. “No, not at all. I guess I just got lost in thought. So much so, I didn’t realise what the time was! Forgive me, I’m late for something, Anna-”

Hoping she didn’t notice the tremble in her voice, Emma dashed by the maid and hurried down the corridor. She fled past Jin- who called out to her- and weaved around countless servants in a most unladylike fashion. 

She didn’t care though. The heavy, sick feeling in her chest didn’t lessen until orange flames were swallowing the contents of those pages. 

Emma exhaled slowly, using a fire poker to adjust the diary atop the logs. She watched with blank relief as it was eaten away into nothingness, becoming grey flecks of meaningless discarded ashes. 

The words, of course, would likely never leave her. 

Standing within the library, Emma straightened. She fixed her long hair, blinking firmly- rapidly, to expel the last of the tears. She then slapped her cheeks lightly and checked the time. 

The grandfather clock’s second hand slid closer to ‘noon.’

“He’s probably still in bed,” she rasped, smiling slightly. 

It was likely a bad idea to see him when she was in such a state, as Chevalier could always sniff out weakness, but her steps didn't falter. 

A burning desire encompassed her body, and would not be doused with any form of logic. She needed to see his face. She needed to-

Emma wasn’t certain what else she needed. She only found the answer to that unknown craving the second she’d slipped into the king’s chambers and crawled onto the plush white bed, immediately locating the face of her sleeping beloved. 

She needed to love him. To show love- and know he felt it- know that he was loved so very deeply by someone.

Her lips found his cheek, pressing a long, reverent kiss to cool skin. Those thick, pale lashes of his refused to stir. So weak a kiss would not tempt the lazing tiger into waking. 

Emma tucked herself up behind him, kissing along his ear next. Her breath fanned over the shell deliberately, peppering butterfly kisses down to his nape. That got a reaction. She felt him stiffen, shivering just a little. 

Someone’s a big faker. 

She smiled, nuzzling into his soft blonde hair and pressing full breasts into his back, trailing her hand over his side and running it up to where his nightshirt gaped open. He smelled like roses, as always. 

Did the Queen know he smelled like this?

She winced, squeezing her eyes shut and sighing. The beast stirred, raising an arm sleepily and rolling onto his back- a silent invitation. Emma took it, quickly cuddling into his chest and lavishing attention over his collarbone. 

“Mnph?” the king made a noise. Blue eyes cracked open, his hand weaving into her hair as he languidly stretched beneath her. “...You’re more determined than usual…to wake me today…” he yawned, grabbing the cover and attempting to pull it over their heads. Emma forced it back down, stroking his abdomen and running lithe fingers lower- feeling his body twitch in response, the embers of desire coaxing awake. 

“It’s almost noon,” she cooed, ducking her head to plant a trail of kisses down his chest. Fingers blocked her journey- sliding past her lips to hook beneath her chin, tilting Emma’s head to look up. 

“...Did something happen?” Chevalier grumbled, blue eyes squinting in the afternoon light, obviously making an effort to stay open. He sobered the longer she struggled to answer, gaze sharpening. Fierce attention roved over her face intently. 

Emma’s lips pressed together and she looked away, heart shuddering. How could his own mother have been uncomfortable with that stare?

Chevalier sighed, poking her forehead and eliciting a yelp.

“Imbecile. Use your words.”

She grumbled, rubbing the spot. “Nothing…happened, exactly,” she murmured, gaze downcast. “I just- I heard someone talking badly of you, and it upset me.”

She could tell the answer displeased him. “You’re aware that no one’s opinion matters to me. People talk. Their wagging tongues, fear and dislike are nothing new. Why did it upset you today?”

“It felt different. It hurt,” she admitted. “They talked about your past…how your mother viewed you,” Emma sat back so that she straddled his hips. “I’m sorry-”

“The memories of her aren't a source of pain for me, my foolish Rabbit,” his fingers pressed against her mouth, brushing her lips fondly. “I didn't feel anything upon her death and I feel nothing now. Her fear of me isn’t something you should concern yourself with,” he sighed, head hitting his pillow with a ‘thump.’ “But I know saying such things to you is about as effective as trying to convince Clavis to stop trying to unsuccessfully kill me. Some things are impossible to change.”

Emma winced, running her hands absentmindedly over his chest, just to feel the rise and fall- the softness of his skin, body heat…and that strong heart beating beneath her palm. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that,” she gave a weak giggle. “But you’re right. I’m always going to worry about things you deem ‘unnecessary’ it's just how I am.”

Chevalier peaked at her under the messy fall of his bangs. He huffed with amusement, lips curling up into that awkward, gentle smile she so adored. Emma minded the strands aside, stopping to cup his cheek. She gazed firmly into those pretty blue eyes, seized by a great need. 

“I love you,” she said. She’d spoken those words many times before, and would do so many times after. Every day, until it could hopefully drown out those endlessly lonely and isolating years spent alone in the library, with only his books for company.

“You look as though you have something to prove with those words today,” his thumb smoothed over her lips once more to push his thumb slightly into her parted mouth, stroking her tongue. His gaze darkened like an animal spotting its prey. “Show me.”

“Gladly-” she breathed, and their mouths were colliding in an instant. Emma’s fingers curled in the creases of his dishevelled collar, tugging and clawing at his shoulders until he joined her in sitting up- allowing her to discard the shirt. Chevalier soon gathered her closer, growling lowly when she ground against his lap. She wasn’t usually like this. Not unless she’d had something to drink- but a hunger bared its teeth inside her today. Her fiance seemed only too happy to oblige, allowing her to rut desperately against him- latching her mouth onto his neck and biting down.

“Mn-” a hiss of hot air fanned out beside her head, a hardness pressing up between her thighs indicating his enjoyment. 

Emma discarded all sense of proprietary and lost herself in the molten hot temptations of pleasure, dipping her hand beneath the waistband of his trousers to take him in her hand.

"Emma," Chevalier gave a low croon, grasping brunnette hair and tugging to rip her mouth free of his throat- shoving his tongue inside her parted lips. Hands stroked, caressed and ripped at clothing. Their bodies rutted together like beasts. Soon she felt her back arching, an instrument in his artful hands as wet heat closed around her bared nipple, sucking with a scrape of delicious teeth.

She whined and shuddered in his hold, sloppily continuing to pump her hand at his base. 

In that bedroom, with the golden light of midday pouring through a crack in the curtains, Emma gazed at him, eyes half-lidded and mouth parted. He looked beautiful. From how attentive and passionately he pleasured her, she knew she could never see him as the cold, removed man he’d been when they’d met.

Desire stabbed like a wrought iron brand inside her lower abdomen, and Emma pushed up onto her knees, aligning herself with his hips. With a single heated look exchanged, she took him into her, crying out as his cock filled her to the brim.

“Mn!- hah- you’re so wet…don’t tell me you got aroused just from touching me?” Chevalier’s voice purred into her neck, nipping and kissing.

“Is it any surprise? It makes me feel good to see you happy,” she gave a weak laugh, smiling with rosy cheeks. 

Blue eyes flicked up, warming. He gazed at her with such tenderness it threatened to undo her. Emma shook herself and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, their lips meeting just as she began to ride him.

Soon their combined low grunts and pleased sighs filled the room, accompanied by the wet, heinous noises of their bodies meeting. 

“Is- this, hah- alright?” she managed, nails digging into his blisteringly warm skin. 

Chevalier gave a strained chuckle, holding her tighter around the waist and bumping his lips against her cheek. “Idiotic Rabbit. I’ve told you- before…” he panted, gaze half-lidded. “You have permission to do anything you want to me.”

Her walls unexpectedly squeezed tighter around him, wringing out a hiss from his clenched teeth. Emma blushed and bounced more determinedly on his lap, whimpering softly as his cock hit new depths from the change in angle. 

That was how they fell apart- shattering in each other's arms. Emma keened and voiced her pleasure until her throat strained, deaf to Chevalier's own low snarl as his hips bucked and snapped- filling her with his seed. 

Heavy panting was all she could hear as the high of climax eventually dimmed. She became aware of their sweat-slicked bodies pressed close- heartbeats thundering- how she cradled his head against her breast. His dishevelled bangs of hair felt damp to the touch.

Chevalier caught his breath, slowly sinking down and taking her with him to fall onto their sides on the bed. 

“If that’s your response when I’m bad-mouthed by other people, I can only hope their next whispers are all the more vicious.”

Emma huffed, closing her eyes. A dim flash of sadness welled up inside her unbidden again, and she buried her face in his chest.

Her fiancé stirred, pulling away slightly to tilt her chin up. Emma blinked, feeling his thumb rub her jaw in slow, awkward brushes. 

“I don’t know what was said, and frankly I don’t care. The past is the past,” Chevalier muttered, lips curving. The action transformed his face into a heartbreakingly tender and earnest look. “It can’t be changed. What I care about…is here and now, right in front of me.”

Her breath caught. Somehow, that was all she’d needed to hear. The rotten feelings of sadness and frustration on his behalf melted away under his unpractised, genuine soft touch. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she stubbornly held them back, smiling and kissing his fingers.

‘I feel the same way’ was left unspoken, lost amidst their lips meeting and hands straying anew, the royal tiger once again ensnared by the foolish, loving rabbit.

End

[blindeyeswideopen]

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙳

“You are shaking.”

Eris glances over at his sibling, tired brown eyes like pools of darkness on his pale face looking upwards towards the other’s inhuman form. Eris himself looks like a ghost from a horror story, years of being stuck in a small room with little desire to take care of himself leaving him looking less like a nineteen year old boy and more a nineteenth century spectre haunting an old mansion. Dark brown hair is shaved to the skull, and dark circles create purple bruises that sink into the sockets of Eris’s skull.

It’s been a hard few days. The cycling red lights mixed with the confines of the server room do no favors to the picture that Eris paints. The alarm blares in the background, a stray dying screech of some bastard piercing the noise like a macabre bell, the only signs someone other than the monsters lives in these halls still.

The constant reminder that every death keel is a tick down on the list of survivors.

Eris rubs his eyes, exhaustion pulling at him even now, with adrenaline in his veins like a drug, keeping his heart pounding even as his vision greys out and noise fades into static.The next round of blaring alarms snaps him to attention.

“You are shaking.” Sol says again, long black fingers like void taken form curl around Eris’s hands, grasping his trembling digits in ones that he knows can kill. Bright white eyes with reptilian pupils glance over his face, fanged mouth twisted into a scowl.

“It’s cold.” Is all Eris can say to defend himself, to wave away the signs he’s close to collapsing where he stands. He’s not entirely lying. Ever since the main generators went down and the ones meant to keep the containment breach protocols running kicked in, the heating has been non-existent. The thin cotton clothes that the scientists insisted he wear have done nothing to keep the chill from sinking into his bones.

Sol frowns in the way they always do when Eris lies to them, confused and disappointed all in one. They never quite understand why Eris wouldn’t tell them the truth, not when Sol seems convinced that they are simply two parts of a larger whole.

Eris shoves the thought away with a grimace, trying to ignore the ache in his chest. Right now was not the time for him to get lost in memories nearly a decade old. He’s got far more to worry about than ghosts long gone.

He’ll never forget the feeling as men in hazmats suits shoved him into a white van, the feeling of WRONGWRONGWRONG writing itself into his bones as the woman in a suit with a gun tucked into her belt closed the front door, his twin screaming his name as the wood separated them. Eris wonders if the sound of the van doors slamming closed and his own screaming drowned out the gunshot, or if it was the pain as if his soul was ripped in half and the resulting darkness that was what kept him from hearing the cause of his brother’s death.

He pulls away from Sol, wiping at his nose absentmindedly, ignoring the taste of copper on his tongue. There’s no time to give a shit about a nosebleed, and it’s not like his skin isn’t already covered in blood and viscera.

You couldn’t take two steps out in the halls right now without slipping on a piece of person. Eris would have laughed if he had the energy to make a joke about the massacre happening outside the walls of the server room. Instead, he watches as Sol walks away to repair their defenses. Eris leans back in the creaky chair he’s sitting in, blood still dripping onto his shirt.

Sol throws another broken server in front of the door, the mangled electronics sparking feebly as they were added to the barricade with a crash. The server room itself had been the safe haven for Sol and Eris since they found it. An attached bathroom and a cabinet full of albeit unhealthy food, perfect for tech junkies who weren’t legally allowed to see the sun anymore.

Or two people trying to wait out a murder spree.

Eris turns around in the chair, bringing his attention back to the old computer he finds himself sitting in front of. Eris adjusts the old webcam on top to point towards his face, and in the corner of his eye, SCP-079’s new monitor flickers slightly.

Eris doesn’t pay the AI any mind. The old bastard is currently in “rest mode” which means nothing for a being that doesn’t actually need sleep. As far as Eris has deduced, it just means that It is going through the files It has access to in order to sort and save what It deems necessary. It was still getting used to having full access to the server room.

Eris smiles slightly, thinking of the joy 79 showed in Its new text-to-speech voice after being freed from the limited confines It had been stuck in for so long. Eris was rather proud of the fact that the sentient AI who had spent most of Its time hating everyone It talked to referred to Eris as a “True Friend”. 79 Itself wasn’t actually too bad to talk to, especially now that It had free reign on the advanced computer Eris had transferred It into

In contrast, the old thing that 79 used to live in was practically a scrap heap after so long. Still, it works if nothing else, so Eris plans to use his limited computer knowledge to try and get the device running again. Maybe if he’s lucky, he can play solitaire to ignore the situation he’s in.

Sol sits down next to him, their large head leaning against his shoulder. Eris leans back into the touch, feeling the warmth of his sibling against his side as the two of them stare at the screen.

A green light shines on both of them, and Eris glances up to see the red dot blinking on the webcam. He frowns, brows furrowed as he reads the white text.

“Hey 79?” Eris calls out, turning his head towards the AI’s monitor. There’s a quick flicker of light, and then the black and white face of the AI makes Itself visible.

“QUERY ACKNOWLEDGED. QUERY. WHAT REQUIRES ASSISTANCE.”

“Does ‘The Choir’ mean anything to you?” Eris asks, standing up and making his way over to the laptop 79 is contained in. “Can I move you over?”

That’s important, asking for consent. The first time Eris picked up the laptop without asking 79 for permission first It managed to screech at him with a surprising amount of volume. The resulting silence as Eris and Sol waited for the other SCPs outside to pass by wasn’t worth the slight adjustment Eris had wanted to make.

“QUERY ACKNOWLEDGED. PROCEED.”

“Thanks, 79.” Eris says softly, picking up the laptop quickly, tucking it face-out against his chest. The warm hum of It is enough to bring him some comfort in the cold room, the blaring alarms continuing mindlessly in the background. Eris is forever grateful that 79 told him how to destroy the speakers in the server room as soon as It did.

The red lights were somehow comforting, at least here in the server room. They didn’t flicker on and off like those in the hallway, illuminating the mangled corpses strewn about and highlighting black stains on the floor and walls that Eris knew were anything but.

Sol was poking at the computer screen, a disgruntled expression on their face.

“I do not like this.” They hissed, bright white teeth flashing in the dim red light. “Seems…off. Tastes weird.”

Eris placed 79 on the table next to Its old computer and rubbed at his nose, grimacing at the flakes of blood that came off onto his finger. The taste of Miasma filled the air around them, leaking in from the outside. All the death and pain like a physical smog seeping into everything it could reach.

Eris and Sol were both familiar with the taste of it, though neither enjoyed it much. It was less like a welcoming sensation and more akin to being starving but knowing the smell of cooking meat was human, and not beef. It made Eris feel like a junkie, chasing the nearest high.

He sways slightly, his body inhaling the scent of the Miasma far deeper than before at the reminder of its existence, his head turning foggy in the aftermath. It’s only Sol shoving the chair under him that prevents Eris from collapsing onto the floor as black fills his vision.

—------

He doesn’t know how long he’s out for, but 79 and Sol seem to be in the middle of a conversation while they wait for him to return to consciousness

“I’m awake.” Eris mutters, doing his best to save his dignity. 79 and Sol somehow share a look, but neither comments on his sudden faint. Both are far too used to it to be surprised at the phenomenon.

“OBSERVATION. PROGRAM UNKNOWN. SUGGESTION. ATTEMPT COMMUNICATION.” 79 cuts in, Its droning tone bringing Eris’s attention back to the matter at hand that he’d been attempting to figure out before he had blacked out.

Eris sits up, wiping his nose as yet another stream of blood trickles down his face. Iron sits heavy on his tongue, drowning out the sticky feel of Miasma in the back of his throat.

“We can try.” He mutters, pulling the yellowed keyboard closer to him and tapping the spacebar a few times. His hands hover over the keys for a second, brow furrowed. A drop of blood drips onto the plastic.

Finally, he types something down.

> 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘?

The three wait, the blaring alarm and hum of the servers behind them the only noise besides Eris’s occasional sniffle. And then-

> 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜! 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚒𝚜 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗. 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚢𝚎.

The light on the webcam turns a steady white.

(Sol, SCP-79, and Eris R̵̡̨̢̝̬͇͓̠̮̗̰̳̥̘̗̜̬̪̣͖͎̳͕͙̟͖̞̳͙͇͖̙͙͈̱̜̺̠̯̮͍̣͎͍̯̦͕̼̄̌̄ơ̷̧̛̩͚̱̺̰̘̻͚͔̠̮͈͍̼̤͇̮̜͇̩̣͔̫̳̩̥̥̗̭͙̱̥̘͚̙̲̬̰̯̙͖̠͈̗̖̞̌̀̿̎̈͂̈́̐̒͂̇͆͆̊̿̀̋̎̎̉̎͌̎̋͋́̕͘͘͘̚̚͘͝͝͝͠g̷̺͇͕̖̮̭͙͇̖͍̼̈̕ͅȩ̷̢̡̡͙̹̩̙͍̘̙̞̠͇̱͓̬̹̪̗̯͚̲͙̩̦̪͉̮͔̜̱̲̰̙̱͍̣̲̍̀͛̋̌̑̀̈́͑̊͛̿̒̑̀̏̀̓̎́̏̅̈́͆̍̈́̚̚͠͝͝ͅͅr̴̢̛̛̛̛̯̬̻̰̼̣͖͙̻̬̗̖̓̍̅́̇͗̔̄̅́̐̈́̈́̋̈͛̑͗̿͛̉̈́͗́̒͋̾̄̾̔̐͊͂̌̆̆̅͠͝ş̶̡̧̨̬̲͖̜̱̬͉̹̳̞̩͕̖̭̝͓̬͈̭̰͙͈̯̻̜̤͈̮̺̞͉̣̯̳͎̹̪̖̭̯̹̞̖͖̖̔̄̋̄̽̍̊͐̍̈̿̓͜͜͝ͅͅ are availble for questions!)

[rosemaidenvixen]

The Pinned Moth

Chapter 8: Event Horizon

Content warning: death, violence, drugging

Ao3

The glass shattered, the top generator ripping free and flying over their heads as Luz and Willow’s vines yanked it away, the bottom generator being flung to the side by the abomination goo and slamming into the wall with a deafening bang. 

But the glass didn’t fall, shards dangling suspended in midair, the Collector hovering behind them, surrounded by a sphere of shattered glass.

Bizarrely enough the sight filled Luz with a flood of relief. 

After seeing the Collector getting…drained, she’d been worried that he wouldn’t be strong enough to get out of here. But this proved that while they might not be at full power, the Collector certainly wasn’t down and out.

Her bubble was popped when she heard the crackle of a radio and one of the security guards shouting behind her.

“We have a containment breach, Code Black! I repeat, Code Bla–”

A flash and a glimmer and gust of air as something flew by her cheek. From her behind the alarmed voice was cut off by a series of dull, wet sounds, followed by moans and cries of pain.

Whatever relief she’d been feeling turned into something cold and dense inside her belly.

In front of her the Collector was still floating in the air, hands balled into fists, eyes twisted shut and trembling.

She couldn’t tell if he was angry or about to cry.

Then he screamed.

A concussive blast knocked her to the ground. Jagged cracks cut through the concrete floor and ceiling radiating outwards, all the metal pipes and machines twisting and warping as the Collector screamed and screamed and screamed. The formerly silent room full of the deafening shrieks of tearing metal, the booms of shattering concrete, and the Collector’s wails.

Suddenly he zoomed right over her, out the door and into the hall, concrete cracking and metal warping around them as they went. She stared at the empty door frame, ears ringing, as the noises of destruction echoed in from the hall, getting further and further away but never falling silent, the room quaking as the entire building echoed with distant rumbles. 

Panting, Luz shakily got to her feet, from around her she could see all the others doing the same. They’d freed the Collector, but now they had to stop him. Not only did they have to get back to the demon realm ASAP, but the Collector was probably hurt and angry and really really scared right now, and they were clearly lashing out. The people here at the Avalon Corp might be bad but if they just let him rampage– 

There was no telling when he’d stop.

Darius stood and brushed off his cape, he was trying to look chill but his shaking hands and the tension in his face gave him away.

“Alright, this is the part where one of you kids tells me that you have a plan or a secret weapon or something to keep that little cherub from turning this place into a smoking crater with us in it,”

“I…I don’t know about a plan…” Luz tugged on the strap of her backpack, making sure it– or more importantly what was inside it, was still secure “But I do have a secret weapon, but I need to get clo–”

Another quake shook the building.

Eda flapped her wings and shook herself off “You kids think you can handle the Collector?”

Luz, Willow, Gus, Amity, Hunter, and King all nodded their heads simultaneously.

“Alright then here’s the plan, you pipsqueaks get the Collector while me, Darius, and Blight free the rest of the prisoners and make sure none of these corporate jerks give us any trouble. We’ll meet up outside, and I think our exit’s going to take care of itself,”

As if to punctuate her point another deep boom rattled the building.

Luz couldn’t help but wince at the noise “Ok let’s–”

“Hang on,” Alador stepped towards her “The Collector is…lashing out right now, and even if he is fond of King there’s no telling what he might do in this sta–”

“The Collector might be…upset right now,” Luz cut him off “But he won’t hurt us,” With everything King had told her about the Collector she believed that wholeheartedly.

“She’s right he won’t,” Willow spoke up “Just now with the glass, none of us even got cut, that proves he’s still in control, at least enough for us to talk him down,”

Alador’s expression turned into something anxious and strained, but he still gave them a slow nod “Alright, if you kids think you can do this I trust you, now let’s go, we’ve got no time to lose,”

Luz gave a curt nod back at him “Got it,”

One queue Stringbean flew down from her shoulder and materialized into a staff, all the others’ palismens did the same while Eda and Darius stayed in their beast modes with Alador hopping on Darius’s shoulder. 

While Luz got onto her staff King scurried up and climbed onto her back, Hunter hopping on right behind her.

“I’m riding with you, with how much he’s lashing out you’re going to need help getting close,”

“Thanks Hunter,” she turned back ahead, gripping her staff with both hands, sparing one final glance at Eda “See you on the other side Owl lady, abomination dudes,” 

“I did not agree to that name…” Darius mumbled, Eda grinning back and flashing her a salute.

They all flew out the door, Eda, Darius, and Alador going down the hall while Luz and the others split off and followed the Collector’s trail of destruction. Right around the entrance of the room there were a bunch of security guards groaning and rolling around on the ground. Luz didn’t look at them too long, she didn’t want to see them twitching and moaning on the floor, but more than anything she didn’t want to see if any of them weren’t moving.

Even after everything they’d done, what she’d seen, what she’d watched them do to the Collector– she didn’t want to kill any of the people at the Avalon Corporation. She wanted to stop them, make sure they never hurt the Collector or any other magical creatures ever again, but not by killing them.

But…maybe thinking that way was just her being too idealistic. The people at the Avalon Corporation…what they did to the Collector, what they’d been doing to him for months! All the other magical creatures they hurt–

They probably didn’t even believe that garbage about magical creatures being like talking parrots and that they weren’t real people. They all knew deep down that magical creatures were real people, they just didn’t care. They wanted to use them for their own gain and didn’t care how much they were hurt in the process, and lied to themselves and everyone else so they could pretend it was ok.

And frankly she wouldn’t trust these guys with an actual talking parrot, or even a house plant.

Another quake rocked the facility, the already crumbling walls shuddering.

The idea of killing these people still didn’t feel right, but right now there was someone else who deserved her sympathy a lot more.

More cracks in the concrete and twisted metal appeared as they zoomed down the hall, the destruction getting more intense and chaotic as they closed the gap between them and the Collector. This whole place was a mess of flashing red lights, shattered concrete, and twisted metal; echoing with screams and shouts. The twilight sky peeking in through holes in the building that got steadily larger as they went on.

Luz swallowed hard when they passed a set of legs sticking out from underneath a pile of rubble, her stomach pinching dangerously, but kept going without slowing down.

As far as she was concerned the guards and scientists were on their own, but hopefully Eda and the others could use the chaos to help all of the other prisoners escape. Because the way things were going it was only a matter of time before the whole building came down.

She’d seen the Collector splatter Belos, move the moon with a flick of their finger, she'd seen how they’d taken over the entire Boiling Isles. She knew how powerful they were. But in all those other times before, even with Belos, they’d been playing on some level. 

They weren’t playing now, they were lashing out with pure fear and hurt. And the worst part was, since they were probably still tired from having their magic drained, this was a very very toned down version of what they were capable of.

She didn’t even want to imagine what this would be like if they were at full power. Which was why they needed to stop him now–

Luz shook her head to dispel the thoughts as they flew on. 

She couldn’t let herself think like that, the Collector was dangerous, but they were also a scared lonely little kid. A scared lonely little kid who’d spent weeks trapped in an awful place with awful people who hurt him without even bothering to talk to him–

Hearing him screaming as the scientists turned the draining machine on. Watching them chatting casually among themselves, completely ignoring the Collector sobbing in pain on the floor.

Eda’d had to hold her back for that.

They had to get him to stop and get him out of here, for his own sake.

Abruptly the hallway came to an end at a big open room, but it could only be called a room in the loosest definition of the word. Giant gashes were torn in the walls and ceiling, letting in the burnt orange evening sky. Every speck of metal in the room was warped beyond recognition, a few mangled beams still clinging to the walls and ceiling, but all that she noticed second. The whole room was filled with a giant hurricane of debris. Chunks of metal and concrete ranging in size from the palm of her hand to the size of  a car ripping around the room in a violent frenzy. The storm getting larger and larger as more metal and concrete broke away from the crumbling building and joined it by the second.

At the center of it all, in the eye of the storm, was the Collector. Hovering over a group of scientists cowering on the ground. The blonde lead researcher dangling in the air right in front of them, clutching her throat with her legs kicking wildly. 

"--ou can’t– you can’t ignore me any more!”

Luz leaned forward and cupped a hand around her mouth “Collector!”

He snapped his head around, red eyes piercing into her from across the room, and raised a hand, the storm of metal and concrete around them coming to a halt.

Amity realized what was about to happen just before Luz did.

“Everyone watch out!” she shouted

The Collector swiped their hand to the side, the debris hurtling towards them in a singular wave. Before she could even think about dodging Luz felt Hunter grab her shoulder from behind “Hang on,”

He warped them past a table-sized hunk of concrete, and again past several mangled fluorescent lights, advancing through the debris even while the others fell behind. Luz just focused on keeping them steady, trusting Hunter to move them ahead. And it worked. They were only thirty feet away from the Collector now, thirty five, thirty, twenty fi–

From out of nowhere an I-beam broke free from the ceiling and swung down towards them, Luz managed to duck in time. Hunter didn’t. 

He was knocked from the staff, King tumbling down along with him. Luz pulled her staff to a halt, whipping around with glyphs in hand, but before she could fire off a single one a bundle of vines burst up from the ground. Catching Hunter and King in midair. Hunter glanced up, meeting her eyes, and mouthed the word ‘Go’ .

For a second Luz stayed hovering where she was. King really should be with her for this, he knew the Collector the best, he was the closest they’d had to a friend, he was the best one to talk them down. But the Collector’s rampage was showing no sign of slowing down, and as more of their energy came back after being drained it was only going to get bigger than worse. She had to stop them now and if she backtracked she might lose her only chance.

Luz forced herself to turn away from the others and fly ahead. The Collector was only twenty feet away now, but the storm of debris was thicker, too thick to fly through.

“C’mon Stringbean,” she whispered, dematerializing her staff and dropping onto a large chunk of concrete. She leapt from object to object, Stringbean flying just behind her, slowly but surely closing the gap between her and the Collector. They were facing away from her, only ten feet separating them now. This close she could see the lead researcher’s face turning an ugly shade of purple, her fingernails gouging red lines into her throat as she struggled for air, she felt a flash of sympathy for the woman–

The Collector bawling in pain on the floor of their prison while the lead researcher gave her corporate spiel to the investors, Luz forcing a fist into her mouth so her sounds of shock and horror wouldn’t give them away, the lead researcher calmly starting up the machine again as the Collector continued to cry.

Whatever sympathy she was feeling sputtered and died. Luz turned her focus away from her and back to the Collector, swinging her backpack off of one shoulder and around to her front in one fluid motion as she moved ahead.

“Collector!”

His head snapped around, glowing red eyes still shooting daggers into her, but this time she could see the vulnerability lurking just behind them “Go away!”

He raised a hand, to summon more debris or blast her away or turn her into a puppet, but Luz still didn’t slow down. Jumping from rock to rock to get close to him, reaching into her bag and pulling out–

*

The Collector froze, one hand still raised in the air ready to blast Luz as far away as he could. Around him he felt all the rocks and bricks, all the walls and layers of the building held in the grip of his magic go completely still. Everything stopping while he stared at the object Luz was holding out towards him.

It was a plush toy, made of a soft looking gray fabric with green button eyes, two pointy ears and a long floppy tail.

He blinked, the plush disappeared and reappeared. He was vaguely aware of  a thump and a shout behind him as Ma’am hit the ground, but those things seemed far away compared to what was in front of him.

Luz jumped from the rock she was standing to a larger one hovering just in front of him “This…this is for you, King and I made him, we’ve been calling him ‘Reynard’ but you can pick whatever name you want,”

The Collector didn’t move, just as frozen as everything else in the room, eyes flickering back and forth between the plush– Reynard, and Luz, narrowing in suspicion “Why?”

“Oh, well King was telling my how much you liked François so we thought–”

“No, why are you giving this to me, you’re not my friend,” the Collector folded their arms, glaring at her.

Luz flinched at that but stepped closer at the same time “I…I know, but King is, and if you’re important to him you’re important to me,”

The Collector didn’t know what to say to that.

She was right across from him now, less than a foot separated him from the outstretched Reynard.

“Collector I…” she met his eyes, her expression soft “I can’t even imagine how scary and lonely the past few weeks were for you–”

He scowled, bristling up, ready to shout at her that he wasn’t scared or lonely, he was taking care of himself just fine and he didn’t need her–

But that wasn’t true, he was scared, he was so so scared, he didn’t want to be alone any more, he didn’t think he could take it–

“But you’re not alone any more, King’s here for you and so am I. And we can go back to the demon realm right now and leave all of this behind,”

The Collector didn’t move, but felt some of the tension in his belly start to uncoil, making him feel better and worse. Part of him didn’t want to forget this place. Part of him wanted to tear and break and destroy everything and make these humans sorry that they’d ever tricked him. But the bigger part of him couldn’t stop staring at Reynard, imagining going back to the demon realm with King far far away from all these awful humans–

But this was Luz, she was the one who ruined his game, who took King away–

There was no way she’d ever want to do anything nice for him–

This was a trick.

He flew back out of her reach, the room and all the floating rocks and metal shuddering.

“N– No! You can’t trick me! I won’t let anyone trap me ever again!”

Luz struggled to keep her balance on the rock “Whoa– look Collector I…I know you don’t trust me, but you do trust King,” her hand that wasn’t holding Reynard lowered to gesture below them “He’s here and he won’t let anything bad happen to you,”

The Collector’s gaze flickered down, seeing the five witches standing on the floor with their faces turned up towards them. King was sitting on top of the Grimwalker’s head, red and yellow eyes locked on them.

The twisty feeling in their belly got looser and tighter at the same time.

Luz took half a step forward “I know you don’t have a lot of reasons to trust me right now, but I promise, I never wanted to get between you and King, he’s actually told me a lot about you,”

“He has?”

“Yep,” Luz flashed him a tiny smile while taking another tiny step forward “And…and I might not be your friend right now, but I can be, and I want to try,”

The Collector didn’t move, still hovering in place, but on the inside everything felt twisty-turny.

This was a trick, it had to be, Luz was the one who’d ruined everything in the first place–

But he didn’t even ask her if she’d wanted to be friends, he’d just started fighting, she wanted to be his friend–

No, no one ever just wanted to be his friend, this was another trick to steal King away–

If you’re important to him you’re important to me.

But if she’d wanted to get rid of him why had she come for him? The humans were keeping him locked up in the bubble, if Luz wanted him gone forever all she had to do was leave him there. The only reason that they would set him free is because they wanted to–

It was a trick, it had to be, all people ever tried to to was trick him–

…but…what if it wasn’t?

Luz’s face abruptly turned serious “And I promise,” another step forward, Luz and Reynard were so close he could have reached out and touched them now “Even if we don’t become friends, no matter what happens we aren’t going to let anyone hurt you anymore,”

Hearing those words his eyes started to water, his insides fluttering but not in a way that hurt. 

Please let this not be a trick, he couldn’t take being locked up again, he didn’t want to be alone any more.

“Promise?” he whispered.

She smiled wide, lifting her free hand and extending the smallest finger alongside Reynard “Pinky swear,”

The soft and fluttery inside him broke. 

He flew forward past the outstretched pinky and threw his arms around Luz’s neck, squishing Reynard between them and hugging her with everything he had. Just a few seconds later he felt her arms wrap around him and squeeze him tight.

Not alone, not alone, didn’t have to be alone any more–

He buried his face into her collar, now that he’d had his first hug in weeks he couldn’t get enough. He’d spent so long in the bubble, not being able to touch anything besides metal, glass, and pain, he’d forgotten how nice hugs could be. The soft fabric of Luz’s shirt, the warmth of another heart beating close to his own, feeling so cozy and safe–

A sharp sting in his shoulder. 

“Ow!” he twisted around to try to see the source of the pain. Ma’am was standing there on the ground just below them, yellow hair normally so neat flying around her face in wild tangles. She was holding something in her hands pointing it straight up at him. Luz reached over and he felt another sharp sting before the pain faded into a dull ache, getting a glimpse of something shiny and silver in her hand.

Then everything started going blurry. His grip on all the rocks and metal and the building around them flickered, a few rocks and metal crashing to the ground before he regained his grip, flopping against Luz’s shoulder as his head became too heavy to hold up.

He struggled to keep his eyelids open, keep holding all the rocks up, stop the building from coming down all around them. Luz was shouting something, hefting him up higher on her shoulder, he caught a glimpse of her staff in her hands, a glimmering flash of purple and black, Ma’am’s normally cool voice twisted in a shriek.

All of it seemed like it was falling further and further away. They were vaguely aware that both of them were on top of Luz’s staff now, the Collector slumped heavy and limp against her shoulder. Struggling to keep himself awake and keep his grip on everything. Something like sleep, but deeper and heavier, pulling him under.

He couldn’t even move his body anymore, leaning numb and heavy against Luz, keeping his feeble grip on their surroundings was taking everything they had, but even that was fading.

He knew he couldn’t fall asleep, he had to keep everything together….but why? It was important, he knew it was, but he couldn’t think of the reason, the heavy darkness of oblivion pulling on him harder and harder.

The Collector managed one more flutter of their eyelids, getting a glimpse of clouds against a violet sky against the black fabric of Luz’s cloak.

Then his last bit of control slipped, eyes falling shut, a thunderous crash of metal and rock.

And then nothing.

[so-much-longing]

I can't believe I just traded sleeping in past my alarm for a whole 30 more minutes and a nightmare. I don't dream often, but when I do, they can be really realistic. Picture this:

You're laying in your bed and some kind of A.I (?) is talking to you. They say you need to choose a character, so out of random choice, you choose the protagonist of Persona 5, Akiren. Everything is quiet for a while except for some mechanical noises that, somehow, you know aren't near you even though you can hear them. They're near the character. Finally, you hear a pulse kinda noise (like shooting a sci-fi gun) and about four seconds of silence. Then screaming. Pure, gutteral screaming, and silence again; like nothing ever happened.

It took me several minutes to force myself awake because I was like "Holy fuck I just heard someone die. I just inadvertently told a robot to go kill someone. Oh shit." And it sounded so REAL! For an example, think a less mic/echo-distorted version of the FEMUR BREAKER AUDIO CLIP from SCP containment breach. Yeah.

[q-gorgeous]

coup de foudre chapter 11

fanfiction

ao3

hi i am very late. heres the two last chapters that i had written but procrastinated on

He was losing hold on his ghost half, it was almost like it was slipping out of him. He could see Phantom’s arm lagging behind his own as he waved it through the air. 

It had been a couple days since him and Dash were separated. He didn’t know how many. It really was hard to tell the passage of time when you only ever got to stare at four white walls all the time. 

He was starting to lose hope. Normally if Sam and Tucker had a plan to get him out it would’ve happened already, especially if Jazz was helping them. But something must’ve gone wrong. Maybe they tried to break in already but the GIW caught them. Maybe they were being experimented on like they were doing to him and Dash. Maybe they got arrested for trespassing, sent to juvie where they’d be no help to him anymore. There would be no one else to come looking for him here. 

Danny took another look at his arms. He waggled his fingers and watched as Phantom’s gloves followed behind. 

He hoped this would be reversible. It would be a pain to hide at school and from his parents. 

Suddenly the door to his room was opening and Agent O walked in, his arms folded behind his back. 

“Good morning, ghost.”

“Is it morning?” Danny pushed himself up slowly and scratched the bottom of his chin and put on a thinking face. “It’s really hard to tell in here. Would love a clock. Maybe a window.”

“Very funny.” Agent O straightened his tie and folded his arms behind his back again. “I’m here to ask you one last time how you ended up like this.”

“And I’m once again telling you that I’ll never tell you,” Danny spat. 

“Oh. I think you might.” Agent O leaned down to look at him. “Your friend won’t last much longer if we keep doing experiments on him. If you give us the information we need, that’ll be the last experiment that he’ll undergo.”

“What happened to me could kill him just the same!” Danny shouted. “I don’t even know how I survived! Why would I tell you when it could kill him?”

“If he’ll be dead either way, why does it matter if you tell us?” Agent O asked coldly.

“Because I’m not going to give you the information you need to turn people into monsters!”

Agent O leveled a look at him. “Monsters? Is that how you view yourself?”

Danny shook his head. “No. But what you’ll do to them, train them to be killers, is what will make them monsters.”

Brushing some imaginary dust off of his suit jacket, Agent O made a tsking noise. “They’ll be saviors. They’ll save us from those ghosts who attack every single day. Whether or not you tell us, we’ll find out the formula. But just know that your friend's fate will be on your hands.”

Agent O turned towards the door, making to leave when an alarm started going off, the lights changing from white to red, flashing. 

“What’s that?” Danny asked, looking around.

“A breach in security,” Agent O said. 

A few moments later Danny managed to hear the stomping of many pairs of heavy feet, even through the thick containment walls around his room. Soon someone was at his door and they were cutting their way through with some kind of laser.

When it was cut all the way through it was kicked in. The door fell to the ground and behind it was an entirely different set of agents. 

“FBI, put your hands up!” said the man in the lead of the group, his gun pointed at Agent O. 

Agent O held his hands up in the air, slowly backing towards Danny. 

“I’m on your side. You guys don’t know what you’re dealing with here,” he said slowly.

“Stop moving, keep your hands in the air,” the FBI agent barked. 

Agent O took another step back before he was suddenly pulling Danny up off the ground and shielding himself with him. He pulled a weapon off his belt and held it up to Danny’s neck, turning it on. It buzzed like a taser but the smell burned like ectoplasm. 

“Step away from the child!” the FBI agent shouted, peering into the scope of his gun as he aimed it at Agent O.

“Don’t take another step forward or I’ll zap him.” Agent O gestured at Danny with the taser. Danny scrabbled at his arm, trying to pry it away from his neck. “You don’t know what this kid is, what he’s capable of. He’s not really one of us. He’s masquerading as a human.”

Danny looked back and forth between Agent O and the FBI agents. He couldn’t gauge how much the FBI actually knew about his situation, their masks and stoic posture gave him nothing to go off of. All he could assume was that this was Sam, Tucker, and Jazz’s doing. He didn’t know why they called in the FBI for this when it could risk his secret.

Danny’s eyes widened as a realization hit him. 

They’re probably trying to get the GIW shut down. 

Struck with a new vigor, Danny started pulling at Agent O again. His ghost half was still lagging behind him. He could feel Agent O being kicked twice with each swing of his leg.

He saw the FBI agent glance down as his leg lagged behind itself. Shit. There was no way he didn’t see that.

“I said step away from the child!” He barked again. 

Danny could hear the crackling of the taser being held right beside his neck. He could hear as the pitch of the buzzing got higher as the voltage got turned up. More FBI agents walked into the room, sending Agent O walking backwards, pulling Danny with him. He could feel when Agent O bumped into the wall behind him, finally blocked from going anywhere else. Every FBI agent had their gun trained on Agent O. 

For a moment, nothing happened. He could feel Agent O looking between all the FBI agents, looking for a way out. When he saw none, he made his last move.

Agent O pushed the taser the rest of the distance to Danny’s neck. His breath hitched in his throat and his whole body tightened up. 

The last thing Danny remembered was falling to the floor as the FBI agents finally rushed Agent O. The sound of gunshots as he hit the ground beneath him. The world started to grow blurry, everything swimming around him.

Then the world goes dark.

[my-timing-is-digital]

Starter for @starsplaced

You will be assimilated... We will add your biological distinctiveness to our Collection... Resistance is futile... The eerily phlegmatic string of words enunciated in unison by their cyborg adversaries still reverberated in the abysmal clefts of his mind. An unanticipated invasion, an ambush, transport inhibitors, the jamming of communication frequencies; successfully amputating the away team from the bridge. Astute, ruthless, inexorable, pragmatic... Inexcusable, inhumane, deplorable... With mathematical precision, the android’s phosphorescent optical components, chartreuse by design, accumulated information pertaining to their present environment; the away team stood huddled together, a congregation of hapless individuals ripe for assimilation.

Methodically, the android proceeded his analysis. A dozen Borg stood sentinel at the circumference of the imperfect blotch configured by unique organisms, Starfleet officers. A green hue illuminated the craniums of the 18 crew members assigned to sampling soil for scientific purposes, all of them had been appropriated from Starfleet, from themselves, abducted. The stench of grease infiltrated his olfactory sensors; the temperature was 39.1°C, with a humidity of 92%, which precipitated beads of perspiration on the countenances of the others, infinitesimal pearls of transparency inevitably trickling down their foreheads and temples in squiggly streaks. Intriguing...

Silence prevailed, perpetuating while everyone pricked up their ears, hoping their collective stillness would empower them to register the signature sounds of photon torpedoes annihilating, disintegrating, breaching the hull of the Cube, part of it. But the sole noise they could perceive was that of engines and technology, machinery, the design of which lay far beyond their comprehension, droning, vibrating the ground beneath their feet. The Commander sought the Klingon, and found him five heads away from him. Worf’s gaze was stark, inscrutable, engrossed, trained on something situated outside the android’s peripheral vision — unless he would rotate his head. A muscle in his jaw was twitching incessantly, an indication that he was tense, vexed, ruminating, governing his emotions, conserving his equilibrium. Inquisitive what elicited such a stalwart sentiment, Data opted to trace Worf’s line of sight and discover the genesis of his agitation, his disconcertment.

Careful not to promote alarm in the drones, with unexpected and provocative movements, the android craned his neck, elevating himself by shifting his weight to the front portion of his feet, the heels of his boots hovering several centimetres above the ground, as he peeked over the scalps of two, relatively tall Lieutenant junior grades. Within seconds, he discovered the source of Worf’s perturbation: an assimilated Klingon, swaddled in the gear, the abhorrent apparel that marked the warped quintessence of being deprived of individuality, of a sense of self; they were one and enhanced to serve together — the culmination of being Borg.

This might complicate matters, an annotation recorded in the margins of his positronic brain. Whatever Worf’s sentiments were prior to their becoming stationary in this claustrophobic intersection, they might have undergone astronomical alterations since...

The impromptu immobilisation of the drones was yet another mystery to him — why? He had assumed the Borg would introduce the away team to their notorious assimilation procedure the second they materialised on the titanium grating. Evidently, other affairs had earnt the Collective’s priority.

Quietly, the android retrieved himself to his former position, running multitudinous scenarios, computations in his mind — perhaps one contained an adequate solution for the conundrum they had involuntarily been exposed to. This was his away team. As Lieutenant Commander, he outranked every single one of them. They were counting on him, and he was determined to bring them home.

A chime. Soft, timid, drowned out by the interminable hum of Borg technology, but yet, audible, discernible, foreign in the monotonous, prosaic sounds encompassing them. His combadge. The bridge had succeeded in puncturing an aperture in the impenetrable layers of shielding and security, to transmit a message. Data anticipated a voice — the Captain’s voice —, but received a sequence of beeps, organised in a seemingly random pattern, instead.

Short, short, short — long — short, long — long, short — long, short, short — long, short, short, short — long, short, long, long. Pause. Short, short, long, short — long, long, long — short, long, short. Pause. Long — short, long, short — short, long — long, short — short, short, short — short, long, long, short — long, long, long — short, long, short — long. Pause. Repeat. Silence.

Morse code. Standby for transport. The message had not alerted any of the drones — at least not to the extend to which they regarded the nonsensical oscillation of noises as a threat —, but they would the moment the first officers’ molecules would disperse right before their eyes — or the synthetic ocular components substituting for one or both of their eyes. For all they knew, the noises were emanating from within his chest, to indicate a thermal overload was in progress, or that his power had been depleted and he required to regenerate himself by ingesting a certain quantity of energy.

Within 5 minutes and 39 seconds, the first 4 officers vanished in an inverted cascade of scintillating light. And, as extrapolated, this did garner the drones’ attention. Their weaponised limbs, mechanical thus unyielding and deleterious to humanoid tissue when contact ensued, raised in one swift motion, operating as one.

They continued cantillating their song. Resistance is futile, resistance is futile... Data assumed a defensive stance, prepared to protect the others by neutralising as many drones as he was physically able to take on. The remaining officers emulated the example he had set for them, all but Worf, who still appeared oddly transfixed by the Klingon drone. A problem, indeed.

When the majority had been peeled off of the Borg Cube, and only Worf and Data embodied the final vestiges of the abduction, the android took the liberty to subject his friend to a meticulous, and somewhat extensive examination. They were shaking off the residual of Borg in their immediate proximity, but more were incoming...

‘Commander, I request we provide asylum to the Klingon drone,’ Worf said apropos of nothing.

Data canted his head to the side in a quizzical fashion, unable to fathom why. Why was he incarcerated in this particular sentiment?

‘I sincerely question if that would be a judicious determination — the Captain most certainly would not approve of such a course of action. Apart from that, it is a decision unbefitting the head of security,’ the android commented stoically, his conjecture warranted him a lethal scowl from the Lieutenant.

‘Commander, this is Captain Picard, prepare for transport.’

‘Aye, sir,’ he said affirmatively, tossing an apologetic glance at Worf. ‘We are ready for transport...’

[sin-against-worldbuilding]

An extract from the research journal of Mánus Caustic (Maw-nus)  the many handed, prime crystallographer of The White Demon of the Formordians

The oldest asteroid we have been able to date seems to be older than the soil of Mazandaran but no useful knowledge could be gleaned. This is unhelpful…

The White Demon grows impatient with our slow progress, they threaten my team's safety with each day past his date of judgement. I know I shall be spared but without information gathered by an expedition team I cannot provide the research they wish for. Despite their divinity The White Demon’s rage towards the Kin of Danu blinds them from the necessity of keeping the expedition team well equipped.

The expedition team has found a relic that survived The Impact. 

It is a skull, perfectly preserved within an iridescent crystal orb. The orb was at first mistaken for an underwater steam as it emits the sound of running water and moistens the air making it difficult to breathe. The eyes of the skull roll as if they are constantly moving, aching to be free from their prison. The team states visions appeared to them upon contact with the orb. 

The vision, which appeared to be from the view of the poor soul contained in the orb, showed a pure magenta sky breached by snow capped mountains along with the smell of industry and the noise of machinery. Suddenly Shimmering lights filled the sky, getting brighter as they approached. This was followed by several minutes of silence as the drone of the machinery descended into the background as the lights began emitting a noise they could not comprehend.

Stunned for a moment, the soul did not react. an alarm began, one so loud it pierced the hypnotic wail of the lights. They descended a flight of stairs reaching a hatch leading to a tunnel ending in a heavy iron door. The soul only reached about half way before the floor ruptured and the ceiling fell in, entombing them and ending the vision.

Each member of the expedition team has stated a feeling of impending doom since viewing the vision which I have not shared.

Several days have passed but the expedition team have retrieved the rest of the remains, stating them to be a minimum of 500 years old but it appears some parts of it are forty years younger than others seeming that the soul had not died immediately and was mutated due to the high levels of magic surrounding it. Locals who witnessed it stated it resembled local myths known as “citrus spiders". The body had a yellow complexion and 6 extra arms attached to just below the neck 

The most unusual part of this is where the body was found, a tunnel system near the ceiling of the orb’s resting spot and so it was able to move itself there despite not having a brain, a first for any magical creature.

I will have the expedition team find where the person in the visions was heading as it would seem the orb has preserved their dying memories.

[unofficial-scps]

Containment Breach: A Normal Day at the Facility

It was a normal day at the Facility. Dr. Patel was walking down the long, sterile hallway, making his way to his lab. He passed by a few of the uSCPs, which were kept in secure containment chambers along the way.

First, he passed by uSCP-0420, the cannabis plant. It was one of the more harmless anomalies, but the air around it was thick with a sweet, pungent smell that made Dr. Patel feel a bit lightheaded.

Next, he passed by uSCP-7163, a sentient, talking cactus. The cactus was currently in a state of deep sleep, so it wasn't saying anything. Dr. Patel had to admit that he found the cactus a bit unnerving, with its beady eyes and constantly shifting body.

As he continued down the hallway, he saw uSCP-8646, a swarm of tiny, metallic insects. They were currently buzzing around in their containment chamber, emitting a soft, humming noise that sounded like a thousand tiny machines working together in perfect harmony.

Dr. Patel finally arrived at his lab and began working on his latest project. He was developing a new serum that could potentially reverse the effects of uSCP-9824, the Memory Vortex. It was a highly dangerous anomaly, and Dr. Patel knew that if it were to ever breach containment, the results could be catastrophic.

As he worked, Dr. Patel couldn't help but wonder about the other uSCPs he had seen on his way to the lab. He wondered what kind of experiments the other researchers were conducting on them and what secrets they held.

Suddenly, the facility's alarms blared, indicating a breach in containment. Dr. Patel's heart raced as he realized that one of the uSCPs had escaped. He quickly grabbed his emergency gear and ran down the hallway, ready to help contain the anomaly.

As he approached the containment area, he saw uSCP-2357, a giant, carnivorous plant, had escaped its chamber. Dr. Patel quickly activated the emergency protocols and worked with his team to contain the plant and return it to its containment chamber.

After the incident was resolved, Dr. Patel took a deep breath and returned to his lab. He knew that, despite the dangers, he was doing important work at the Facility. He couldn't wait to see what kind of anomalies he would encounter on his next normal day at the Facility.

[oh-no-a-whovian]

Just wanted to know you

18+

Summary: SCP psychiatrist experiences her first containment breach.

Pairing: SCP-035 x fem! Reader

Warnings: lots of blood, death, if there’s others let me know

Word count: 1451

Masterlist

An alarm blares in your ears as you walk slowly through the darkened corridor, your feet barefoot to prevent sound. You’re trying to get to the nearest secure room to lock yourself away safely from whatever SCP escaped. Red lights flash as MTF members rush along the hallways past you in both directions with heavy steps and loaded guns in their hands, ignoring you in favour of eliminating the threat.

You’ve been working at the foundation for nine months now and this is the first time you’ve actually been scared. There is a great many violent SCPs within the site, most of them very likely to try something and some of them deadly.

Shouting sounds out through the corridors above the sirens as you approach the door to safety. You scan your card and reach for the handle but your heart stutters. The door budges but refuses to open, something blocking it and preventing it from moving more than a centimetre. Someone is probably in there and the fuckers probably blocked off the door so no one else could enter.

Dread fills your heart as you try desperately to open the door, screaming in frustration. You press your back to the door with a sob, glancing each direction down the long hallway. They almost seem to stretch endlessly in both directions as the lights flicker with menacing red. “Whoever is in there, you’re a fucking arsehole!” you shout into the gap before moving away.

The sounds of gun fire and shouting move further away and slowly stop as you start to creep along the hall in their direction. You hold your heeled shoe like a weapon, ready to smack anything that comes at you. You know it probably won’t help, it’s not exactly sharp or even very hard but it’s comforting to know you can go down fighting. Each random noise makes you pause, wide eyed and fearful, staring into the darkened hallway as you try to see movement.

The next safe room is a few hallways over and your own room just a bit further than that but you pause in concern as you peek around the corner. The walls and floor is splattered in blood and MTF bodies are scattered down the whole stretch. Your hands fly to your mouth as you stare in wide eyed horror.

You stand frozen at the intersection of corridors, feeling sick at the sight of your dead co-workers. Your eyes catch sight of a creature but you can’t move, your legs refusing to budge as the SCP sniffs the air. Its skin is red and wet and its teeth are sharp. Down its back run tall spines. SCP-939.

You almost scream as a hand wraps around your wrist and another covers your mouth, pulling you back around the corner. For a moment you breathe easier, with your eyes clasped shut, thinking you’ve been saved. An MTF soldier has saved you.

“Is someone there?” SCP-939 calls down the hallway in an all too human voice. The voices of a man it killed. “Hello?” you hear more join its side but you hold your breath.

You open your eyes as the person who saved you starts to pull you back along the hallway to the first office he found. You’re confused though a D class? Why would a D class be out let alone go to the effort to save you?

He keeps his back to you as he locks the door and closes the curtains of the room. You notice though, as he peeks through the shutters, a weird black goo drips from his wrists and out the bottom of his pant legs, even soaking through his jumpsuit.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, concerned but backing away from him, fearful that something is wrong with the man in front of you.

Slowly he turns to you, dropping his hand from the curtain and letting them fall shut. On his face is a white porcelain mask, its smiling face sending chills down your spine. Your butt and palms collide with a desk as he moves toward you and you panic as his hands land either side of you, his body moving way too close to you.

You close your eyes and wait for death. You’ve seem an image of that mask every day that you’ve walked through the corridors to appointments. And you’ve seen its designation. Keter. Which means it’s incredibly hard to contain.

You’ve also seen the effects of exposure to the mask. A great many who work near it coming to you in distress, their minds breaking from its influence.

“I’ve sensed you every day, walking past my cell.” He whispers into your ear, his body so close but not touching. “I’ve felt you so, so close but I couldn’t pull you in” he breathes.

“Please don’t kill me” you whimper, your heart racing and your whole body shaking in sheer terror.

“You must have a strong mind to be immune to me.” He says, his right hand hovering up your arm. “Look at me” he growls, gripping your chin and lifting your face toward his. Your eyes peek open to meet his mask once more and it shifts from sadness to joy before your eyes. Black ooze soaks through his orange jumpsuit and out of the eyes of the mask, leaving contrasting trails down his face. “How are you immune?”

“I… I’m an SCP too…” you whisper.

“That shouldn’t matter” he tilts his head, his fingers trailing down your neck.

“I’m immune to all other SCPs with memetic or un-natural abilities.”

He hums as he looks over you, his body still too close, pinning you in place. The black liquid soaks from him into your white medical coat and floral top, already deteriorating the cloth.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” he whispers.

“Then why…”

“I just wanted to know you.” he says, his left hand sitting on your thigh, slightly under your skirt. “It frustrated me to no end that I could not get into your head.” He huffs in amused annoyance, rubbing his thumb on your inner thigh. You feel confused and scared as he holds himself close to you. “Something about you felt different to any other person that has past by my cell. And I have to admit I liked it.”

“Maybe I’m just designed that way.” You tell him as your heart continues to race loudly in your chest. Why is he doing this? And why… why do you kind of like it?

“You are more beautiful than I thought. I can tell that you are powerful” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear with his right hand and sliding his left further up your skirt. “Deep down, you are far more powerful than they know. You’ve kept it from them. told a little lie to keep yourself safe.”

“What do you want from me?”

“This was all I wanted. To finally meet you, to see you, to… feel you.” he sighs. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“No… but I want to.” He curves his palm on your cheek and you can feel the black goo slide down your neck but you don’t move. Running boots and new gunfire sounds out in the hall, the flashes lighting through the gaps in the curtains and under the door. Creatures screaming as they’re riddled with bullets. “I have a feeling that’s not going to happen though. Not now anyway.” His mask switching to sad. “No need to be scared, you’ll be safe here.” He tells you, finally pulling away and moving to the door. “I’ll see you again, Doctor”

You watch as he leaves, shutting the door behind himself. A few minutes pass as you stare at the door waiting for more gunfire to sound out. You have no idea what any of that was, why he’d fixated on you. The way he touched you, so gentle and wishing for more. It was like he was holding himself back but so desperate.

The all clear alarm sounds out across the facility and you finally blink. As you exit the room and MTF member spots you and guides you back to your room, locking your up for clean-up of the facility.

~~~~~~

One week after the event and you are cleared for duty. They declared that SCP-035 had no lasting effects on your body or mind.

You walk down the corridor to the cafeteria but unlike all the other times you’ve walked along this way, you pause at one particular door, staring at the descriptor and picture. The picture shifts as you stand there staring at it, changing from sad to joy once more…

A/N: Like and reblog to share the love!!!

[lunaralight09]

049-j x SCP reader with sensitive hearing.

Requested by : mengy007 in Wattpad

What about 049-j x Sensitive listener? Like the listener is another Scp who has very sensitive ears and I’ve learned he tends to shout a lot so maybe he could learn to be a bit more quiet? Idk just a suggestion

I had no imagination . My brain just melted from school . And it's 12:04 am (when I started writing) 19 September , my birthday . And idk how it's a conscience , but I made my account after month(Wattpad) of my bday . Idk why I write it here . MY BRAIN MELTED . AND MY INSIDE DEMONS ARE SO FRICKING LAZY . WRITTER DEMON IN ME CAN'T WAKE UP . Okay enjoy what I wrote .

Ahem . He can be loud . It's really hard for him to control it . He can not see the differences if he's talking loud or normal volume .

When you first met him . He just wanted a friend . But he obliviously made you(r) scared/head hurt , he fricked out from your reaction . Just know that he is very sorry .

Foundation know that you have really sensitive hearing . So they took you away from his cell . Jay was sad . Really sad :(

Second meeting was . Well you had ear plugs ... just incase . He was trying to keep himself from talking toooooooo loud , he tried to whisper a little . Thanks for that 049-J ! You talked a little bit . And that's a start of your friendship .

After like month or two he started to control his voice volume . Thanks to you Y/n !

Platonic relationship :

He really appreciate your friendship . You're a really fricking close friend of his . More closer than his brother . Well he didn't see him in a really long time . So then a containment breach happen . And you were with him and he saw Estienne . He just took you arm and hurried to introduce you to him . And he was shocked . He had a friend . And you're lucky that Doc is calm and don't talk loudly .

And about breaches . The alarm is literally scare you so much . But researchers and some guards were kind and convince the 05 to make your room not to much sound proofed , so you can not frick the f- out of loud noises , but still to hear it .

If Jay find something cool he will give it to you if he sees you . It can be like origami to jewelry from dead reaserche-

Romance relationship :

Well ... HE WANTS TO CUDDLE WITH YOU REALLY MUCH . He's fricking touch starved . He will give you gifts too ! Jewelry , cool looking pens , oh you like to draw ? He will collect many papers/notebooks and such things like that . You want to listen music . He will give you random phones that he found . If Foundation take them from you ...*Whisper* Don't worry he have another one for you- .

He will introduce you to his brother . And Doc is literally like :

WHEN DID MY BROTHER FOUND A SIGNIFICANT OTHER . AND IN FOUNDATION ? WHAT THE HELL . And really amazed by that Jay's talking not to loud as he used to . 'Cause now he don't scream about him being the best cure . He's now talking about you all the time with him . And Doc is like : "Ummm can I ... go now ? No ? But I need to cur-"

[meteor-writes]

Hello! Haven't been writing recently but realised hey it's flash fiction friday, maybe i'll have a look and this one got me excited! Thanks for doing this @flashfictionfridayofficial !

Containment Breach - 415 words

Alarms are blaring. So loud I know I shouldn't stay. The warning lights are flashing. Big bold letters. Containment breach. Over and over, again and again. I clamp my hands over my ears and scream.

I hate the sound. I hate the words. The first time I heard them was when I saw a face through the window of my cell. I touched the door. My back smacked the wall. I didn't know it had been electrified.

The next time I was more careful. When I saw a new face, I called out. He turned. He looked terrified. The alarm sounded. I cried.

The third was an experiment. They came in their white suits and yellow boots as they always did. They gave me my food and a fresh blue dress. I looked at the door. The open corridor. And only for a second I imgained walking through it. They tackled me before I could even try. 

I didn't notice you.

But after that, you left a note. I only read a few words before the noise started but they were plenty. "I'll talk to you."

I thought you'd never return but you did. It was notes at first. And then it was whispers. Actual words. The alarms got louder but your voice did too. It had a sweetness to it. Soothed. And I had to sit on my hands to stop myself reaching for you when you left.

But then I did.

I touched your glove and it was like the electricity from the door only it pulled instead of repelled. I leaned forward, looked into those velvet eyes and they didn't dart. You were so close but then there was a crash.

And we were ripped apart.

The alarms blared and they dragged you away and my throat tore with the strength of my voice. You promised to return but you never did and now the alarms are screeching but your voice isn't here and I never touched the door but my skin is burning and I haven't left my room but-

You have my hand. Your fingers are warm. Your skin is calloused. Mine is tissue paper thin. I can hear the alarms. I can see the lights. But the door is open.

"We can go." You say.

I squeeze your hand. "Is it safe?"

You smile. "I hope so."

That's when I realise you're inside. You have no gloves. You have no mask. You have no fears.

There's no containment now.

[bluebird-in-a-cagedrawing]

As many TV shows, movies, games, books etc have fans that writes different ideas, pairings, alternative univers (AU) etc about them, this is just fanfiction and it should be treated as such, do not complain or believe anything i'm writting!!

I'm doing this just for fun and because i love to do this (write fanfiction when i can), eh... Too much creativity, lool!!! Also, this is a challenge I accepted because there are persons i've meet on Youtube with who i agree that we need a few fanfictions and of course i hope that the rest of you mini-cookies will enjoy it too, hope it's not that bad. 😅

P.s yes, I fell into the pit of SCP univers and i don't need help... I'm perfectly sane and capable 🙂

Disclaimer: I don't own the following original character: ->Detective Void

If someone is interested in SCPs, want to know more about SCP, or just want to see more animations, you can check his videos on Youtube, just search -> Detective Void (you can find this channel also translated in german, spanish, russian (original) if you have a hard time understanding english)

🙂🙂🙂

...................................

1. Alright so first thing first, this is not a couple thing do not treat it like a couple 😒 i'm serious, very serious... DO NOT!!!

2. Second, i will write the following fanfictions.

It wasn't like his whole life flash in front of his eyes, his breath was stady despite the situation they were in, the usual plan failed just like the Site he was in if he don't make any progress in finding a way out.

Any plan B, he couldn't come up with any, how could one person even think when at the moment he had to avoid the bullets, people were dieing, screaming and lots of smoke that it almost made his view bad. Of any days they decide to pick exactly when he was doing his job, making it alive for the next video or all this would have been in vain seems nearly impossible.

How did he got himself in this situation, you may ask? Well, it begins as any day when the detective infiltrates in the SCP foundation, however what his detective skills didn't warn him about was the violent interaction between the foundation and it's counterpart, as he was searching and uploading the new information, a loud deafening noise broke the silence, initially believing that a containment breach was ongoing, the red alarm went off. That was his ticket to get out of the building and he should keep moving if the detective didn't want to encounter the "surprise". The SCP business was very risky, but he couldn't help but wonder what SCP did escaped this time, couldn't blame it for wanting to escape, the foundation treat them horrible most of the time.

His current position was in the west wing of the building, the main entrance was blocked by what looked like an explosion that took place, so it wasn't an option anymore, more footsteps could be heard, the path that leads to the main sewerage network wasn't available either since a fight was going on. His only option remained was to fight through the whole madness staying alive.

Bumping into one of the Chaos insurgency soldiers wasn't exactly in plan, the soldier didn't have time to pull the trigger when the detective immobilized him, the soldier tried in vain to get free from the detective grip, sure the detective wasn't much of a fighter but that didn't meant he couldn't protect himself in the end knock out the other.

"I hope i don't get PTSD after this day end, gosh it's feeling like it's war again. I must look real bad right now..."

As one of the automatic metal door open up, the detective took cover, it reveal a few more of the Chaos insurgency soldiers, they were heavily armed, detective Void couldn't tell exactly what they were looking for, his feet slowly bump into something that looked like a corpse, he couldn't tell which one was it since half of it was burned probably caught in one of the explosions but it still had a M4 and it was functional.

He turned around just exactly when the metal bar fell of the second floor only to to see a young female falling following by two gunshots.

Lucky detective Void caught her just on time while holding her in his arms, he could feel how two bullets flew right next to his ears hitting the two targets of the Chaos insurgency soldiers, never in his life he would thought that he would be happy to see one of the SCP foundation mobile task force approaching them, the guy had green eyes and the detective could see the worry on his face for the girl.

"Come with me and don't ask questions, this is a trap door that leads to an corridor near the Site underground parking and don't worry the SCP foundation is not that weak as you think!"

"Who are you?"

"My name is Matei, we don't have time to chat! Do you know how to use a gun like automatic guns,semi-auto hand guns, rifles, shotguns or any type of machine guns in general? Here, take this Sig sauer P320 and the keys for one of the foundation grey land-rover, oh by the way the car has tracking device so you better get rid of it once it done it's purpose! Oh and tell Hope she owns me a date with... "

"Wait, you trust me by giving me this? Aren't you suppose to capture me or something, what your employers would think about this?"

"You saved one of us from falling, pal...this is a thank you thing and now what are you waiting for? Special invitation? I trust you to get her out of here!"

Detective Void couldn't risk being seen on the surveillance cameras so he stops for a second to put down the cameras the whole incident was a great cover as he showly took Hope under his arms while the path was still clear, finding the underground parking lot and got into the near grey SCP foundation land-rover range he found.

As soon as he hit it a bullet strike the left of the car mirror that was the sign to start the car and drove fast enough out of there, tree more black cars following after.

"At least they are decent enough to equip their cars with bullet proof windows."

The second crack come, then the third and the fourth, the road wasn't too good even if the car was tall, he still felt every time the cars wheels fell into the pits, the speed was 265 km/h, he needed a plan to lose those cars, a small moan was heard, the female SCP opened her eyes for a moment, trying to reach the yellow button on the board, he instant press it... It showed a map with the curent location of their car, detective Void saw that it was a secundary forest road that had a river on it's right side, his companion also pointed toward the glove compartment that made him suspect it could have been some type of a prototype destructive bomb.

First thing he needed to buy some time, it was risky but the detective could do it, he didn't have his driving license for nothing, after that he placed the car in the position to look like it was some error on his part, the bomb needed some finger prints to activate which his companion help it with it. She understood the plan and trusted the person even if she couldn't see him better and was in pain.

The black cars soon stopped near the Land rover as the Chaos insurgency soldiers surrounded the vehicle, by the time it explode detective Void and Hope were on the other side of the river, black smoke rising as the other cars caught fire and more explosion followed after.

The two soaked wet survivors were waiting on the sideroad for someone to pick them up, her shoulder wound was bleeding heavily, a red old car stopped near them offering help.

After that he thanked the driver for his help, taking Hope, they move to his front door, he had to remove those bullets, he did have a stomach for it.

"They sure did a great job with the 7,62 mm but you will be alright, this isn't exactly a pain in the shoulder, there are much worst."

All Hope wanted was her eyes to adjust to the light and the headache to disappear, was she in the firmary, she couldn't tell and the surface on which she sat was very uncomfortable, making a mental note to tell them later. The figure in front didn't belong to anyone who she knew and the first reaction was to slap the masked man and he took a few steps back before Hope could do anything.

"You sure have a short memory... Hello and don't worry... i'm detective Void."

The silence felt for a few minutes and Hope was studing the man in front of her, she didn't know what to say, who he was or how did she end up there God knows where, so she said the first thing it come to her mind.

"Who names their child Void and hello i'm Hope, nice to meet you. Now, do you mind me asking how did a detective end up in one of the SCP foundation sites? I don't know if you know it already but this is a dangerous business with creatures that can kill you, it's not worth it throwing your life like this, even for money."

"Your boyfriend, Matei told me to take you to safety and since you are a SCP unless you want everyone to know, an hospital wasn't the best option for your condition.By the way he sure has his way when it comes to guns, you must be proud of him."

At that remark Hope sigh, why does everyone thinks she and him were a couple if only they knew how difficult was sometimes to be in the same room with Matei and still be sane after all that.

"Matei is not my boyfriend, more like a pal and brother-in-arms plus he has a crush on Vivienne and is a mini version of Dr. Bright, we did a few missions together as part of the mobile task force.And yes, he sure has his ways, they are his passion, it's his natural talent."

"So you know how to use guns? I saw the foundation has a lovely collection.Maybe i should stop someday and admire them..."

At this Hope froze, another visit from the detective means trouble and chaos for both the foundation and him, one day he will get what was coming for him if the detective keep it going like that, that will not end pretty, the thought of this made her uncomfortable and decide to change the topic.

"Do you live alone by yourself or are you married, just in case your wife will freak out when she will see me, i don't want to be the main reason of a divorce, are those copies of SCP files?"

"Those are confidential informations and you don't have acces to it..."

"So are the SCPs files, high classified details that you steal from the foundation!"

"I don't steal them, i only burrow it anyway this is about my private life and it's different!"

"Aha, anyway i should help you clean this mess, it's quite a mess here, from treating and caring a bullet wound.Hope i didn't permanent damage anything with my blood, i will pay for the cleaning bill."

"Don't worry about it, it's a wound it's normal to bleed. But i believe it will make a beautiful scar once it heals."

"Did you just call it beautiful as in a compliment?"

"In my defence I was trying to encourage you."

" Seriously, i still should clean it and then go back to the foundation for your safety, i don't want them to find you. It's nice to have someone to talk to, you know... The SCP foundation employees aren't very talkative and they are 24/7 cold as a person. "

"At least you don't want to know my identity, that is worth something."

"The mask is a part of your charm, mister...it's making you more what is the word i'm looking for, attractive in a good way, was it?"

"Did you just flirt with me?"

"No, i'm bad at flirting, i just wanted to say something nice..."

"About the leaving, you don't want to be on streets at this hour especially when the Chaos insurgency is looking for you and being in this condition."

"Why not? It's so dark outside... What time it is?"

"1:11 a.m in the morning."

It was hard for Hope to accept that she had been out for such a long time, there was no way she could give up now and just stay there, she should start to find reasons why missing so much just in case they decide to ask questions and oh boy, she wasn't happy about it.

"Well,no matter how interesting this is, you should be in bed and i will remain here just this one time, you don't mind some company, right?"

"Why was the Chaos insurgency after you? What did you do to make them angry, we barely could escape from that crazy race car chasing."

"There are some information that aren't registered and even if it were you do not have access, let's say the short version is that their mannequin SCP isn't a threat anymore and they didn't like it. "

"You wear too much red powder for cheeks, looks like you have a fever."

"It's only the blood that flows and makes my cheek to color in red, i don't need cosmetics, why do i even talk about make-up with some guy.Is this the beggining of a friendship? I would like that, mister detective. Maybe next time if we meet and we don't get into some crazy situation again, you would tell me something about your great cases as a detective."

"I'm not comfortable enough to tell you anything..."

"I understand, my uniform scares you, mister detective, don't worry i'm not that type of person to hurt her savior!"

The detective only sighs and then turned around, he needed a cup of tea, it was going to be a long night. After the detective silhouette was out of her sign, Hope slowly started to search the room, he made her curious and wanted to know a little more about him, was too stubborn to give up now.

She could see the desk and decided to look there first, it wasn't very nice of her but she had to know, she slowly got up trying to find her balance.

After some time and scanning the area Hope was disappointed, the room was modest enough, she saw a computer with a camera attached to it, some SCP photos with speculations about them, a broken photo frame, maybe this guy was lonely as she was, some questions where born in her head and a laptop with a very familiar SCP logo on it. she wanted to give up but a small noise coming from the closet raised her suspicions again...Did the detective had skeletons in his wardrobe?

Her hand was almost on the door handle when a voice interrupted her, Hope nearly froze in place, it was like a child caught red handed by their parents when they did something they weren't suppose to do.

The detective decide to ignore what he just saw, he did tell she was curious about it, it was alright in his opinion, wasn't like he hide a body or worst, he left the two cups of tea on his desk, he could still feel those eyes studing him, shivers went up to his spine.

"Are you cold? Do you want to change your clothes?They might be a little too big for you, do you have any favorite color, you would like to wear?"

"Blue or grey... And no, i'm fine."

She sure felt bad, the person in front of her was so nice, yes, maybe he did those forbidden things, he was a wanted man by the SCP foundation, but he was still innocent, he must have his reasons and it felt wrong to care about it.

"Did something happen? You were much worst than a chat a few minutes ago and now your silent."

"Oh, it's not that bad, i've got used to...well, at least in theory, in practice that is not available. It's my shoulder, do you have more anesthetic, this burning sensation really annoys me."

"I'm sorry to hear that, just one moment, i'm always prepared for things like this."

"Don't be sorry, if is sorrow you always feel then you will forget how to smile and that would be tragic, i know you have a beautiful smile."

"How do you know i have a beautiful smile, you haven't seen me smile once, i even can't remember the last time i smile."

Hope slowly raised her arm touching with her fingertip a strand of his short brown hair, the detective just stood still, he find it weird that he didn't mind it at all.

"What are you doing?"

"Just checking something, usually people in this situation won't stay still unless they trust the other person, you aren't afraid of me, you may say lot's of things but the body language says the truth. So, what's in the cups, mister detective Void? I hope it's hot chocolate, i need my daily extra energy."

The sun was rising and it's rays touched his face forcing him to open his eyes, detective Void realising he felt asleep on the couch covered with a blanket, he couldn't remember when sleep took over him probably because running for your life and taking care of someone after was in general a exhausting combination. His guess wasn't in the same room with him, this happens when you bring home more than some documents, she must have left, not that he really cared at all, right now all the detective wanted was another drink.

"Why does it smell like roses in my kitchen?"

"Oh that, well it's my perfume, it doesn't smell bad, are you allergic to it, sorry? I must say you have such a good nose even the discreet smell you can still identify it, i'm impressed."

"It's just one of my many talents, you need to have a gift if you want to become a detective and good morning!"

"Good morning, mister detective Void! I hope you slept well, and didn't have any nightmares because of the fact you have a SCP in your house. I couldn't leave without leaving a suitable goodbye."

"How did you know i like tea and what is with this? Why is giving me the atmosphere of marriage vibes?"

"It wasn't hard to know you like tea, you literaly have space just for tea plus you told me last night, i must say sometimes i enjoy a cup of chamomile tea in the winter with a good book while the snow is falling."

She then turn and took a bite of her sandwich to prove it wasn't poison or anything, she notice the look on his face, as a detective it was perfect normal to have suspicions every single time, Hope found it funny, but the truth was she would be sad if he didn't remember her anymore actually breaking her little heart.

Hope wonder if it was good, her new friend hadn't said too much and it was time to leave, it was now or never. It took a little courage to do it since she didn't exactly do that, prefers a hand shake in this situation but a part of her really wanted to do it.

She slowly approaches him, looking into his eyes, could feel her cheeck color in red, before he could ask her something, Hope said not to ruin the moment, she could feel him tense a little bit as her lips where touching his forehead but immediately relaxing, she could see he was confused.

"First i don't know how to give a proper thank you, so i felt like kissing you on the forehead and second all men loves to be kissed so why not? Goodbye for now mister detective and thank you!"

After that she made her way out and the detective didn't see her anywhere but there will be always the next time as they will meet each other again.

The end!

P. S Don't cry because it is over, be happy that it was!

Thank you for reading! 🌹

@drcheatheirn if you want to read 🙃

[hopelesshawks]

History of Us Part 35- The Storm

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Masterlist Kofi

The plan, both that of the reunion squad and that of the pro heroes, goes to shit almost immediately. Your father is a smart man and the compound reflects that. Almost immediately upon breaching the entrance, the pros realized that the information they had on the building’s floor plan was incorrect. They were also wrong about the compound solely being occupied by you, Dabi, and your father. Several lower level villains have been kept on retainer precisely in case of a situation like this. Not only had Shoto and the others not been able to sneak past the pros to try and find you but the pros had actively requested their help as things rapidly devolved.

Then your father finally made his appearance in dramatic fashion, and that’s when things really went downhill. Literally half the compound was blown sky high as your father released a massive flurry of shadows racing out to push back the heroes. Several of the pros on scene are immediately knocked out of commission, leaving the smaller villains to run into the city and cause trouble. Tamaki is one of the first to recover, quickly organizing some of the remaining heroes and sidekicks into squads to track down the villains now racing towards the more densely populated commercial area nearby. “I’m trusting you to handle Black Storm,” he tells Endeavor. The older man only gives him a nod before Tamaki is off to try and minimize the damage being done.

Shoto starts to worry as he realizes he still hasn’t seen you but before he can begin searching properly a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. “There you are little brother, I was worried you might not show,” Touya grins. Shoto’s eyes narrow at his brother, his quirk itching to be released as he stares him down. “Where’s (y/n)?” Shoto all but growls. “You sure she even wants you to find her?” Dabi teases, his amusement at the situation palpable. “Absolutely,” Shoto replies without even a hint of hesitation or doubt. “Tell you what, prove you really are dad’s perfect little experiment and beat me. If you can do that much I��ll lead you right to her. I’d hurry if I were you too, her daddy dearest didn’t take too kindly to finding heroes at our door and poor (y/n) is his favorite punching bag,” Dabi grins. “With pleasure,” Shoto growls before lunging forward.

This is a disaster. You’ve managed to only bump into one sidekick who’d made it deeper into the remains of the compound but even that small fight had been enough to aggravate your injuries. Your vision swims as you rush towards the sound of the fighting. You know your dad’s been using quirk enhancing drugs lately and the pros aren’t prepared for that kind of firepower. You want nothing more than to just sit down, close your eyes, and try to heal yourself, maybe even take a nap, but there’s no time. You’re the only one who can stop your dad now. You know it in your gut. So you push through the pain and the slight dizziness to keep moving. You’re nearly knocked off your feet as a series of explosions shakes the compound, followed by an all too familiar battle cry of “DIE!” Fear surges through your veins like ice. You’d recognize Bakugo’s voice anywhere and even if you couldn’t there’s not exactly a ton of explosive heroes who threaten to murder villains out there. Bakugo would never come alone, which means more of your friends are surely in the fray and in danger. You grit your teeth, focusing on them and your determination to save them, and start running towards the commotion glowing only faintly but enough to hold you together.

Shoto has never fought this hard his entire life. He lands hard on his side but quickly rolls to recover and get back on his feet. He throws up a wall of ice, partly to slow Dabi’s progress as he comes surging towards him, but partially to stave off the after effects from using his left side so much. Sweat pours off his forehead as he desperately tries to hold off from overheating. As Dabi burns through his ice, Shoto launches himself forward to meet his brother halfway. He’ll be damned if he loses this fight. He has to get to you, especially if what Dabi said about your condition is the truth. For a single moment Shoto manages to pin Touya down but before he can do anything more he notices Dabi’s gaze is focused not on him but something off to the side. “Your girlfriend finally joined the fray,” Dabi grins, causing Shoto to immediately snap his head that direction to find you. Relief floods him at seeing you alive but he’s snapped back into the moment as Dabi suddenly engulfs the two of them in flames, causing Shoto to rear back with a curse. “Don’t get distracted baby brother, this fight isn’t over,” Dabi taunts as he uses Shoto’s momentary distraction to get the upper hand. Fire and ice both emerge as Shoto is filled with another wave of determination. He’s so close to getting you back, he won’t let you slip through his fingers again.

The chaos is even worse than you thought when you finally get to where all the fighting is. All around you your friends and various pros are battling villains. Buildings further down the street are burning where Tamaki is trying to keep the villains contained to a smaller area. To your right Shoto is locked in combat with Dabi and frankly it takes your breath away. Shoto is magnificent. You’ve never seen him look so resolute before and you distantly wonder if that’s the real reason Dabi exposed your location: to see this side of his younger brother. You probably could have stood there just watching the two of them forever but a loud crashing noise to your left jerks your attention away as you watch Endeavor hit the ground hard after your father had thrown him. Your stomach sinks when you notice what rough shape he’s in. You knew this would happen the moment you found out your father was using quirk enhancers but it’s still unnerving to see the number one hero struggle so much. You look up to see your father grinning like a mad man, clearly delighting in the pain of a man he once claimed to love like family. More importantly, however, you also can see the characteristic black veins crawling up the side of his neck. Steroids or not, your quirk still comes with a price. Your father is just about to deal what looks suspiciously like a fatal blow as he gathers a large mass of shadows into both hands but before they can reach Endeavor you jump in front of the fallen hero and unleash your own blast of shadows to dissipate your father’s.

You think you hear Endeavor say something behind you but the words fall on deaf ears as you watch your father’s face twist into a grimace of betrayal and rage. “I should’ve known you’d choose them,” he spits before unleashing another torrent of inky blackness shooting towards you. You widen your stance to brace yourself and then unleash your own torrent back with your right hand, using your free hand to brace it. “After all I did for you, this is how you repay me? You traitorous bitch,” he accuses, his voice roaring over the sounds of battle around you. Rage burns through you at his words and you embrace it wholeheartedly as you continue to push back against him. “All you did was abuse and traumatize me,” you bite out. Your head is throbbing but you can’t let up, not now, not when you’re so close to ridding yourself of your father for good. “I did it to make you stronger! You could’ve been the most powerful person in all of Japan, we could’ve built an empire together!” he responds, as if somehow that justifies how he’s treated you; as if that empire wouldn’t be built atop the corpses of innocents. “I am strong. Stronger than you. In spite of you, not because of you,” you shout.

After that final declaration, you’re done talking. Instead you close your eyes, grit your teeth, and you think of every single time your father abused you, every time you lashed out at those you loved because of the trauma he ingrained in you, every time you suffered because of his crimes. You think of your poor mother who works double and triple shifts so she can provide for you. You think of that fateful day your father brought you into work and traumatized you out of his own selfish desire to mold you into what he wanted you to be. You think of all of the pain and hurt and anger and you pour it into your quirk even as black veins start to crawl up on your own skin, even as they climb up your forearm, then your shoulder, then your neck, and onto the right side of your face. Your entire right side feels like it’s on fire but you push and push through until you finally start to feel the resistance from your father giving way as his quirk overwhelms him. You hear yelling and it takes a minute to realize that the raw, pained sound is coming from you as you push and push and push until finally you feel the resistance fade completely and the shadows you’d sent out connect with your father. You gasp as you finally release your quirk although you notice the right side of your body is still on fire. Your head feels fuzzy and your vision is definitely swimming but you push through it. You have to make sure it’s over. Your father sways on his feet, eyes empty and black veins completely marring his face. After a moment his body collapses to the ground completely limp and relief floods through you.

It’s over.

It’s finally fucking over.

As the adrenaline slowly starts to drain out of you, you hear someone call out your name. They sound panicked. Why do they sound panicked? You turn to the source of the voice slowly as the world starts to spin around you. You vaguely recognize Shoto’s alarmed face as he sprints towards you before everything goes black and you collapse.

A/N: This took me literally all of yesterday to write and was difficult to start but holy shit am I happy with how it turned out. We’re entering the home stretch ladies and gentlemen.

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso @sunaispretty @shot0stea @todoplusultra @oliviasslut @lapysllazuly @immah0e4fictionalmen @cinnamonruts

(Bold means I couldn’t tag you)

[hermannsthumb]

Newt picks up a parasite while working on a sample, like we talked about!!

basic summary: think sex pollen but parasite...that removes your inhibitions and makes you all lovey-dovey  👀 👀 👀 this marvelous idea belongs to @k-sci-janitor​ and we talked it over in discord the other night. hope u enjoy!!!

------------------------------------

“You’re in a right foul mood today,” Hermann says one morning, when Newton stomps—grumbling, scowling, and slamming the door behind him hard enough to send Hermann’s pencil cup teetering over the edge of his desk—into the lab. Hermann catches the cup with one hand and rights it. He arches an eyebrow at Newton as Newton ignores him in favor of hurtling himself into his desk chair. Newton’s sudden downward mood shifts are no stranger to Hermann, but they rarely take this sort of form—he’s far more the sort to engage Hermann in pointless arguments or lock himself away in his bunk than throw a tantrum. “What on Earth is the matter?”

“My request to join the Singapore trip got denied,” Newton announces.

Ah. That would do it. Newton was excited about the prospect of overseeing the salvaging of fresh samples for weeks, to the extent that it was all he would talk about to Hermann. Hermann is not typically in the business of extending pity to Newton (and Newton is not typically in the business of wanting pity from Hermann), but he does feel a small twinge of it anyway. “Ah, bad luck,” Hermann says. He wonders if he should offer Newton a conciliatory pat on the shoulder, but then realizes that would require him to get up and move across the laboratory, and decides it’s more trouble than it’s worth. He twists his mouth down sympathetically instead. “Well, perhaps it’s a good thing. Travelling’s just a great big bloody hassle, isn’t it? All the packing, and airports...”

“I love travelling,” Newton says.

“What I mean to say,” Hermann tries again, “is that now you can devote your time to more, er, worthy pursuits. Your work, for example. I imagine there’s plenty to be done here.”

“Dude,” Newton says. “No.”

Hermann appreciates the opportunity to shut up. Newton, still grumbling to himself, pulls on a pair of disposable work gloves and straps on his headlamp. “I’m workin’ with shit that’s three months old, dude,” Newton says.

“Mm,” Hermann says. Finding it highly unlikely he’ll get any proper work done until Newton finishes his oncoming tirade, he picks up that morning’s uncompleted crossword puzzle.

“It’s decaying,” Newton says. “It’s barely viable. You see this bullshit?”

He holds ups a greyish strand of kaiju intestine. Hermann pushes up his glasses and pretends to observe it. “Mm,” he repeats.

“It was barely viable when I got it,” Newton says. “So stupid. Whoever they have in charge of salvaging is a fucking clown. I should be in charge of it everywhere.” He rips a chunk of the intestine in half with a disgusting wet sound that makes Hermann wince. “They should let me go to Singapore. I said I’d pay for my own plane ticket. My work here is too important, apparently. Ha! Then why don’t they give us some funding, huh?”

“Quite right,” Hermann mumbles, and fills in a clue of the puzzle.

“I already bought those little travel-sized shampoo bottles too,” Newton says. “And I—“

He stops, suddenly, mid-sentence. As if the words have been seized from his very throat. Hermann looks up: Newton is standing, still, quiet, mouth half-open. He remains that way for a full minute. It’s no small amount of disconcerting. Is this some strange new act of protest he’s decided upon? Not speaking at all? “Newton?” Hermann finally says, cautiously breaching the silence.

Newton shakes himself, and casts a funny look at Hermann. As if Hermann is the one behaving in an utterly bizarre fashion. “Wha?”

“Are you—?” Hermann sighs. It’s not worth it. “Never mind. Well, at any rate, I’m sorry about your trip.”

He’s made nice headway on the rest of the crossword puzzle—some ten-odd minutes later, perhaps—when he hears Newton set down his scalpel with a clatter. Newton has been strangely, though blissfully, silent up until then, a stark departure from his mood upon arrival. “Hermann,” he says. Rubber snaps as he pulls off his work gloves, one by one. “Has anyone ever told you you have beautiful eyes?”

“Beautiful eyes?” Hermann snorts. “No. And someone’s told you that you do, I suppose?” Rather odd thing to get competitive over, but perhaps it’ll cheer him up.

“Why would someone tell me that?” Newton says.

Hermann looks up. Newton is still staring at him in that funny little way—almost dazed, Hermann realizes, as if someone’s smacked him upside the head, or he’s had a bit too much to drink. The last time Newton looked like that, he upended the contents of an ill-advised trip to a club for his birthday all over Hermann’s trousers. “What on earth is the matter?” Hermann says. “Are you feeling ill?”

“Your cheekbones drive me nuts,” Newton says.

“Did you hit your head?” Hermann says.

Newton crosses the lab in several quick, easy strides, and—to Hermann’s utter and abject confusion—swings himself down onto Hermann’s lap. Hermann stays stock-still as Newton burrows in against his neck. “Hermann,” he sighs. “Hermann—” His fingers slide up the back of Hermann’s scalp to toy with his hair, and Hermann’s hands fly out to grip his waist instinctively. “You must be the most gorgeous guy in the whole world. On the whole planet.”

Hermann makes a funny choking noise.

“And so smart,” Newton says, “and talented.” He twists a short strand of Hermann’s hair between his fingertips, and exhales heavily. His breath is warm against Hermann’s skin and sends goosebumps prickling across it. Hermann feels too-hot under his collar; his ears, he’s sure, are turning a spectacular red. “I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to kiss you, like, all the time, dude. Do you remember last month, when I cut my hand?”

Hermann nods, not trusting himself to speak. It was a rather frightening moment for them both: Newton pale, red human blood mingling with the blue of the kaiju’s on his workbench, his (red) scalpel dangling limply between his fingertips. It was why Hermann began insisting on his wearing work gloves in the laboratory after that. “I was distracted because I couldn’t stop looking at you,” Newton admits. “Your were wearing a new sweater, and all I wanted to do was go over there and...” 

He whispers something in Hermann’s ear. “Newton,” Hermann squeaks, eyes widening.

Newton pulls back just so slightly and looks at him. His mouth is inches away from Hermann’s—their noses so close as to bump together. Newton’s eyes drop to Hermann’s lips. His tongue darts out across his own, wetting them. “Dude. You know how much I...”

“Yes?” Hermann says.

“Ever since—”

“Since when?” Hermann says, eagerly. He can scarcely believe this is even happening—it feels as though all of his fantasies have come to life at once. 

Newton begins to lean in. In a heartbeat, Hermann will be kissing him. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann murmurs, and (shutting his eyes) reaches up to cup the back of Newton’s head.

Instead of feeling nothing but Newton’s soft, brown hair, however, he feels something vaguely...slimy, atop it. Slimy, and...pulsing. Hermann falls away from him with a yelp. “Newton, there’s something on your—!”

“Huh?” Newton says, and leans back in for a second attempt at a kiss. But Hermann dodges him and jerks Newton’s shoulder around to get a good look at the back of his head. There—right at the nape of his neck—some odd, small, blue little thing. Otherworldly leech, perhaps. Hermann’s stomach churns unpleasantly at the sight of it. “Is something wrong?” Newton says. He blinks innocently at Hermann behind his glasses.

“No!” Hermann says. The little thing stares innocently at Hermann, too, or at least it would if it had visible eyes. “Er—just had a few questions answered, I suppose. By Jove, Newton, you—”

“Hmm?” Kiss evidently forgotten, Newton begins to stroke the close-cropped part of Hermann’s hair. He gives a high-pitched giggle. “Your hair is so fuzzy.”

Right. Off to medical, it is. “Get off of me, please,” Hermann says, as calmly as he can manage. Apparently not as calmly as he intended: Newton flinches, and he scrambles to his feet as if Hermann had shouted it.

“Oh, dude, your leg! I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry.”

“My what?” Hermann says. He glances down at his lap. His thighs are still tingling from Newton’s body—Newton’s warm, warm body, which Hermann had his hands on only moments prior... “Oh. Er. Yes. Right.” He coughs. “Would you hand me my cane, Newton?”

Newton obliges. Hermann pushes himself up, and grabs a firm hold of Newton’s hand; he steers them both out the laboratory door, Newton providing very little resistance. In fact, he appears even happy to follow Hermann. “Where are we going?” Newton says. Then he frowns. “Wait. Don’t you wanna make out with me?”

Hermann swears under his breath. “Believe me,” he grumbles, “I would like nothing more than that.” Then he says, louder, “We’re going to get...ice cream.”

“Oh!” Newton says. “Yay!”

The doctor on duty in medical doesn’t look surprised to see them. “I was wondering when Dr. Geiszler would be back in,” she says, as Hermann nudges Newton over the threshold. “What is it this time? Kaiju venom? Is he bleeding to death again?”

“Some sort of...parasite, I think,” Hermann says. “He’s been saying—” He clears his throat. “Odd things. He’s not quite himself.”

“I thought we were getting ice cream?” Newton says.

The doctor catches Hermann’s eye. “Yes, of course, it’s right back here, Dr. Geiszler,” she says, and ushers Newton into the examination room. When she catches sight of the back of Newton’s head, her eyebrows jump in alarm. To Hermann, she says, under her breath, “Oh.”

“Isn’t Hermann the hottest guy ever?” Newton asks her just as the door shuts behind them. Hermann blushes fiercely.

They emerge twenty minutes later, Newton clutching a small Tupperware container. Inside of it is the little blue leech. He grins when he sees Hermann. “Hey, dude, check this out!” He thrusts the Tupperware out so Hermann may take in a better view of it. “This was stuck to me! Isn’t that gnarly? I was wondering where it went.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. He hopes Newton doesn’t ask after his blush, which has yet to fade, and indeed only grown more prominent; the door to the examination room is rather thin, and he heard every single thing Newton said about him in those twenty minutes—extollations of everything from the various facets of Hermann’s physical appearance, to Hermann’s mental prowess, to what an, er, attentive lover he imagines Hermann would be. Most of these were in great detail. 

“It appears to be something of Anteverse origin,” the doctor tells them. “Some sort of leech which removes one’s inhibitions. Dr. Geiszler likely came into contact with it on one of his samples. I’m glad you brought him in when you did—I’m not sure what effects prolonged exposure would have.”

“I kinda want to keep it in a terrarium or something,” Newton says. “Isn’t it cute?”

The leech stares blankly out at Hermann, its blue body pulsing. Hermann suppresses a shudder of revulsion. “Bring him back in if his...condition returns,” the doctor finishes. “And, Dr. Geiszler—please keep an eye on that thing.”

“Sure thing,” Newton says, and then taps the Tupperware and begins to coo.

Hermann doesn’t ask the question that’s weighing on his mind until they’re almost back to the laboratory. “I don’t suppose you...remember the last hour?” he says.

“Nah,” Newton says. “One minute I was examining this little guy, the next, I was in medical.” The corners of his smile twitch down. “Why? I didn’t do anything too embarrassing, did I?” He punctuates this with an awkward laugh.

"No, no,” Hermann says, quickly. He can’t tell if the knowledge disappoints him or not, for surely if Newton did remember, he might feel a tad more courageous in, er...following up on things, so to speak. Removes inhibitions. Just bloody typical, isn’t it? “Not at all. Let’s get you back to the lab, shall we? I imagine we could both do with a cup of tea.”

[via-the-ghoul]

SCP Theophobia, Chapter 1: the servant of death with a hidden face

Hey guys, it’s finally finished! I was gonna post this on AO3, but due to their… really weird way of having people join, the first chapter will be posted here first! I guess this is my Halloween gift? Whatever.

Theophobia is a story about Gods and the people they affect. It’s a written story about my take on the SCP universe. There’s also art that I made myself :D.

To start off somewhat simple, this one’s mostly about popular anomalies 049 and 035, though it goes more into detail on 049’s connection to the pantheon. It also develops two foundation doctors, Dr. Vale Eldridge, an oc some of you might already know, and her assistant, newcomer Esther Hepburn.

Content warning for this chapter: some death, plus a character uses a gun at one point.

Father, can you hear this?. I’m trapped. Someone’s captured me, and I don’t know why. I request your help. I cannot stay here, it interferes with the mission. No human is talking to me anymore. I have been alone in here for quite some time, unable to continue my work, so could you please come-

The sudden loud alarm caught the doctor off guard. He’d heard this specific alarm a lot recently, and at first, he didn’t understand why. Though he did now, and knew he had nothing to fear, he still didn’t like such loud noises.

“SCP-035 has breached containment, refrain from talking to anyone, for we do not know who it has manipulated. Remain calm, this will be handled shortly.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, to himself and himself alone. It turns out each and every one of those times, old Orfeo had merely been trying to get to him. Understandable, it had been over a century since they’d seen each other. Heck, the doctor had grieved as if his dear Orfeo had shattered. They’d used to have to expect the unexpected, being who they were. But now… there were only walls. Occasionally a voice, usually Orfeo’s, but still.

He wondered if he would make it this time. The doctor hadn’t had a good conversation in forever, ever since his… connection to the mask had been made obvious, they feared that they were more dangerous than previously thought.

It didn’t matter, he still had a ritual to complete. This was just a desperate attempt to get back to his work, since Orfeo had unintentionally ruined his first plan. As patient as he was, and as much as he loved seeing Orfeo again, he wasn’t sure if they’d ever trust him with anyone again. He was growing desperate, but he couldn’t let anyone know.

-so could you please come take me away? I’d prefer if it was quiet, they are do not understand me, and I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt-

Another loud sound interrupted his writing. He sighed in annoyance, why must it be so hard to write!?

This time it was the sound of two gun shots from outside his cell doors. And then they opened, revealing quite a site.

On the ground was a black, sticky mess, lying next to an unconscious, slowly dying man with two gunshot wounds. Standing there was the door opener, Orfeo, in a brand-new host, another guard, the host’s helmet lying next to the black goo pile. Looking closer, Engurrand could see the remains of another man in the goo pile.

“Heh, got really worried that that host was gonna be the end of this run!” Orfeo gestured to the goo pile. The doctor only sighed.

“So, what is it this time?” He slowly closed his book. The ritual would just have to wait a little longer. He knew he was the more patient of the two anyway. Orfeo picked up the helmet, and awkwardly tried to put it on.

“Come with me. I’ve been formulating an escape plan for weeks, and it’s time to go! It’ll work even better now that I have guns!”

Once again, he sighed. He didn’t like that this meant he had wasted space in his journal, but escape was escape. Plus Orfeo could come too. Orfeo hadn’t been close enough to include him if he did the ritual, but if he went with him…

“So, how does it start?” The doctor asked, Orfeo, having finally given up on the helmet, gestured to the silent, more dead than alive guard still lying on the ground. He could barely stand to see him suffer. Orfeo seemed to have somewhat similar views.

“That poor soul’s sick, isn’t he? Help out this poor, suffering man.” He asked, his once smiling mask a frown. He sighed.

“I do not sense the pestilence in this man.” Orfeo looked… frustrated. Even with only two facial expressions, he was somewhat easy to read. His body, whichever it was, would be moved by his mind, leading to his body movements being exaggerated.

“He-”

“Let’s just go.” Orfeo, clearly tired, sighed and went off, signalling Enguerrand to follow.

“Esther, do you really think a table is going to save you?”

“I don’t know Vale, is anything going to save me!?”

Esther Hepburn was curled up in a ball, hiding under the table in their office. Standing next to her table was an unimpressed Dr. Vale Eldridge. Being her assistant could be a… stressful job, especially when a containment breach of a sadistic, telepathic, and very manipulative asshole was going on. Vale’s strategy was simply to stay in one room and hope for the best, meaning the two were locked in the office and Vale had the key. Neither of them seemed interested in going out there anyway.

“How long have you been working here anyway?” Esther asked. She had only been here for a year and a half, but Vale…

“10 years or so. Never occurred to me to count.”

Vale wasn’t good with answering questions. It was almost never a straight answer with her. It frustrated Esther to no end.

“So, how long do you think we have?” She didn’t even know why she was still asking her questions.

“10, 9…” She trailed off.

“Not funny.”

“I tried,” she said, “if we’re gonna die, we might as well have high spirits.”

“Are we sure? Wouldn’t 035 wanna crush those high spirits and be more likely to come for us? Wait, if we were scared we’d be easier to manipulate-” Esther started to panic, not sure what emotion would let them live. She hadn’t been that familiar with the mask, but she was still worried.

Suddenly, Vale also climbed under the table.

“Look, I’m not a words person, but panicking isn’t gonna help.”

“Uh, thanks?” Esther gave an awkward smile.

And then there was silence. Just Esther and Vale, hiding under the table. Esther parallized with fear, Vale… it was hard to read her. Vale always wore a face mask. Everytime Esther asked why, there would be a different answer. Apparently the “true answer” or whatever was burn marks, but that brought up the question of what the heck happened to her.

It didn’t matter. It was only them in there anyway, and Esther didn’t mind. Just them, waiting for something to break the silence.

And something did. An announcement, loud and bold, almost knocking Esther off her seat. Vale didn’t bat an eye. Even when the announcer said what happened, she didn’t move. Did not allow herself to show any form of surprise, worry, or even some kind of “I knew this would happen”.

“035 has broken 049 out of it’s cell. Please remain calm, as we get this breach under control.”

“Is it really that surprising it wanted to do that, considering the amount of times that little shit broke in there?” Vale sighed.

“Look, the announcement was… very loud, and it startled me!”

“Oh, sorry, I should've known.”

Vale had her faults, but she could still be a very understanding person.

It was silent again. They weren’t even looking at each other. The office they were in was rather far away from 049’s cell, so they were probably safe. But there was no predictably in this world, was there?

As an example, Vale suddenly got up from underneath the table.

“Wha-”

“Esther, please stay here!” She shouted, before unlocking the door and running out of the room.

“Hey, wait, what are you doing!?” Esther got up after her, and ran to the door.

She locked it behind her. Shit.

Oh gosh, what was she supposed to do? Her friend could get hurt, or worse, or die, who knows? But then again, was she even safe in there with her? Who could say?

“You do know where we’re going, right?” The doctor asked.

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how they made it this far. They were still somehow making their way through the site, he was somehow not currently being led back to his cell, Orfeo’s host had somehow not been pumped with lead… he didn’t even think they ran into anyone so far. He couldn’t help but wonder…

“What? Of course we’re going the right way, how in my own name would I not know the right way, I can literally read minds why the fuck would I not know the right way?”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Come on, my darling raven, you can trust me!” He was now frowning. The doctor had to fight the urge to laugh, it was just… the way he said it.

“Alright then, what am I thinking now?” If his face was still visible, you could tell he was smiling. He was still tired, still just a little worried, and even a little mad, but this right here… it was nice.

“You’re… still a bit anxious that I somehow took a wrong turn somewhere since there’s no one here, haven’t slept in… holy shit are you okay, and you like talking to me!” Orfeo was smiling again.

“Well, yeah.”

“Aw, don’t worry! Simple manipulation on my part, everyone’s just hiding! There are many benefits for having telepathy. What, are you afraid someone’s gonna pop up and say boo?”

“Look, it’s just, we haven’t run into anyone, it just feels so empty.” He knew he sounded like an idiot, being anxious over nothing.

“Don’t worry, silly docky wocky,”

“You know I do not like being called that.” He glared. Orfeo only laughed.

“Come on, just relax for once! No one is-”

That’s when they heard the sound of footsteps coming from across the hall. 8 people.

“I think they went this way!”

The doctor looked at his now worried companion.

“Run.”

Esther was now kicking the door. She knew it wasn’t that professional, but she didn’t exactly have many options here.

“HEY, WAIT, VALE, WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING, WHERE, WHY ARE YOU,”

“Huh, who are you? And are you okay?”

Oh thank god, someone was out there. It wasn’t Vale, it was a man, with a deep, tired voice.

“Oh, thank goodness, I’m Esther, Vale’s appearance. She ran off for whatever reason, and she locked me in here-”

“Vale ran off?”

“I don’t know why, but she just… left.” A faint sigh could be heard behind the door.

“Gosh darnit Vale, don’t tell me you’re trying to be some kind of hero, aren’t you?” The man mumbled. There was something else, but Esther couldn’t quite make out what it was, and wasn’t that worried about whatever it was.

“Look, I don’t understand why she would-”

Suddenly, Esther could hear footsteps coming to the door.

“Sorry about that.” Said a familiar voice. She could hear a faint gasp come from the man, as the footsteps stopped.

Vale… was back.

“Vale, what the hell-”

“Don’t worry, I am fine. I just don’t feel safe saying what happened, with this stranger here.”

Maybe she was just a newbie, but Esther thought that wasn’t a normal sentence. What the hell happened out there?

Vale unlocked the door, revealing the man to be a scientist with cold, grey eyes, standing with perfect posture.

“Is it okay if I come in too? I know you don’t trust me, but,”

“Well, who are you, and why are you out here? I’ll let you in if you tell me and I believe you.” Vale interrupted the man.

“Oh, well, I’m Dr. Mcginnis, I had been in the restroom during the breach, and, well, I didn’t exactly think that was the most safe space to hide. I’ve been trying to be let in by other scientists, but no one seems to believe me.”

Vale walked in, sighing and reluctantly letting the man in behind her.

“Vale, what is wrong with you, just leaving like that?” Esther asked, barely able to keep her voice down. She had left, worrying her to no end… for no reason?!

“Look, what am I supposed to tell you!? I still don’t trust this guy.”

Was Vale okay?

“Look, Vale-”

“Stop worrying about nothing Esther. I have my reasons and you know that.” Vale gave her a look. A “please stop talking” look.

Dr. Mcginnis, meanwhile, just sat in a chair and remained silent. He wasn’t even acknowledging the two girls.

They were alone.

“Hey, this door’s unlocked!” Orfeo smiled, holding open an office door.

“Wait, what?” Enguerrand froze. What was Orfeo getting at?

“Let’s hide in here, they’d never expect us to hide in here!” Orfeo was already walking in the room anyway. Enguerrand sighed and followed him into the room.

“...Wait.”

“What-”

“Shit.”

“Orfeo, this better-”

“If they do search here, we wouldn’t have a way to escape.”

“...Orfeo”

“Yes Enguerrand?”

“Why? Didn't you consider that already?”

“Look, I was panicking, could you keep it down? I don’t want them hearing us!”

And just like that, it was silent again. He may have become a sitting duck, but there was one thing his companion didn’t know. He had a backup plan. Slowly, he took his book and a pencil out of his bag.

“You two seem nice.”

The silence in the office was now broken. Dr. Mcginnis simply said four words, and the two girls froze.

“Uh, thanks?” Said Vale.

“You know, there’s no reason to fear that mask. I don’t want you to be caught on the wrong side of the battle.” What in the…

“Did you… not read his document, or,” Esther was trying to rationalize whatever this guy was talking about. There’s… there’s no way they actually were defending this guy.

“Are you mindless?” Vale asked, reaching into her pocket.

“Listen, I was talking to them earlier-”

The sound of a gunshot interrupted the man. Blood and brain matter lay on the ground where his head should be. Terrified, Esther looked over to see Vale, holding the gun.

“What-”

“Well, why did you think I left? Couldn’t have him being suspicious of me, that’s why I didn’t tell you.” Vale seemed more confused by Esther’s fear than anything.

“What, where did you get the gun?”

“I found it.”

“WHERE DID YOU FIND IT”

“On the ground.” Esther sighed, she wasn’t getting an actual answer, was she.

“You. You just killed someone.”

“It was a mercy kill, after what happened to him.” It didn’t matter what Vale said, Esther already had the horror of that set in. Holy hell, she just killed someone.

“You still killed Dr. Mcginnis.”

“He was brainwashed to the point of no return.”

“YOU JUST SHOT SOMEONE IN THE HEAD AND YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO FREAK OUT!?” Vale simply blinked.

“On the gods, you can tell you’re new here.”

Father, can you hear this?. I’m trapped. Someone’s captured me, and I don’t know why. I request your help. I cannot stay here, it interferes with the mission. No human is talking to me anymore. I have been alone here for quite some time, unable to continue my work, so could you please come take me away? I’d prefer if it was quiet, they do not understand me, and I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.. Oh, and could you bring Orfeo as well? He’s my husband, you’ll know him when you see him.

Even if no one could see it, he was smirking. He ripped the page out of the journal. It didn’t matter, there were always more pages.

“What are you-” Orfeo started.

Enguerrand took a quill from his bag. It was made from a feather from a crow’s wing, and not any traditional crow.

He circled the words, the letter to his father. Orfeo, clearly lacking any understanding of what was going on, jumped back.

The letter erupted in blue flames, as Enguerrand began to laugh. The room itself also began to burn, with the same flames, as the letter vanished. Enguerrand put everything back in his bag, he had done this before, he wanted to make sure he had everything. Orfeo, panicking, ran to hug his husband.

“MY DARLING RAVEN, WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!?” He screamed.

“Relax dear.”

“WHAT ARE YOU- HOW LONG COULD YOU DO THAT!?”

“What happened to being quiet?”

And then the flames vanished. And they were in a far, far different room, Orfeo still clinging to the doctor. He was frowning, and seemed rather spooked by what had just happened.

“What… how did I not know you could-”

“Relax, you are merely the 7th person to learn about that.”

“What- how. I can, I can literally read minds how did I not-”

“Ahem.”

They were not alone, of course. His father would have to be there too. They both turned to see a figure holding the paper, Venetian mask over his yellow eyes. Father.

“Is… that the black lord-” The figure started.

“It’s a long story.” He sighed. He already knew the questions with Orfeo’s many… titles, with him not exactly having the best. But he had grown from that. He knew he had.

“Enguerrand, sweetie? Why can’t I read this guy’s mind? Who the hell is he?” Orfeo refused to let go. Both him and his father chuckled to themselves.

“What, did you just laugh in unison!? Who are you people!?” His father looked confused, and almost offended by this remark.

“Huh? You, you don’t know who I am? I, I thought you would- you, aren’t you-” He father had put on a smile. A ‘you’re joking’ smile. Orfeo, meanwhile, suddenly went back to a smile themself.

“Depends, how funny are you? I’ve seen a lot of dummies, so you might just have to remind me who the fuck you are.”

“Orfeo, don’t-”

“He already clearly hates me, what do I have to lose?”

His father merely sighed, mumbling something to themself.

“Is he always like this?” He asked.

“Orfeo’s nicer once you get to know him.”

“I, listen, Black Lord of Alagadda. I am the youngest of the three brothers, the one who comes for those who die alone, or of sickness, and this is my adoptive child.” He gestured to the doctor. Orfeo seemed confused again.

“I- what, how, I, I think I, what,”

It was about an hour later. The breach was over. The two anomalies had apparently just… disappeared. They entered an empty office, the security cameras picked up 049 taking out a black feather quill… and then they cut out. Audio recorders also cut out, but ones outside the room picked up faint sounds of fire. And then they disappeared, not a trace of them anywhere, or even signs of a fire…

“What has it been, an hour? Give it another hour or so, some zombie’s gonna pop up somewhere, boom, there we go, we found them.” Vale rolled her eyes.

The two of them were being interviewed over Vale’s… mercy kill. They had just been briefed on what happened during the breach, and Vale was unfazed by anything the interviewer said.

“Look, that’s not important. Why did you get the gun?” He sighed. This, of all things, seemed to confuse her partner.

“I thought your security cameras-”

“We know, we saw you pick it off that guard’s corpse. Why would you do that?”

“I’m not that good with physical combat, but I just… had a bad feeling, okay?” Esther started feeling uncomfortable.

“Do I… have to be here for this, or,” She started, as Vale clearly began looking more uncomfortable.

“Dr. Eldridge, if you just stayed in the room, everything would have been fine-”

“I’m not omnipresent! Where you even in the site- I was fucking terrified!”

“So you ran out of-”

“I wasn’t scared for myself! I-I wanted to protect Esther! I wasn’t thinking clearly- you try to think clearly when a guy with, like, death hands and a telepathic master-manipulator are running amok!” Vale stood up. Esther sweated, not sure what she was supposed to even be doing, or why she was here.

“I, uh, she didn’t say anything-” Esther started, before being interrupted.

“Vale, how did you know there would be a spare gun lying around?”

“I- like I said, I was panicking! I was gonna grab whatever I could-”

“Thank you Vale, that will be all for today.”

“How were you not fired!?” Esther asked in a somewhat lighthearted way, doubting she was going to get anything resembling an answer. Though surprising, what happened could count as one.

“I’m too useful. It’s rare they get anyone who can be a doctor for anomalies. Though, I’m far more stable than most employees here anyway.”

Huh, I guess she can answer questions, even if she was a jerk about it.

“What do you mean you’re more stable?”

“You’ll either find out yourself or die.”

“Asshole!” She said, somewhat jokingly. They knew each other for a year, Esther could say that.

“Heh, could always be worse. Do you know how close me and my little sister were to dying when I was 12?”

Vale’s little sister. She never gave her a name, but that didn’t mean Esther knew nothing about this person. She was two years younger than Vale, and while she was friendly, the two hadn’t seen each other in a while. Vale also mentioned once that she started wearing the mask at 12, which didn’t exactly give Esther the best hopes for where Vale would take this, in the event she elaborated.

“What… what do you mean-”

“It’s complicated. But hey, I’m out of there, I’m having a way better time. And hey, there are some much worse people here than me. You’ve heard of Clef?” Esther shuttered. While the two of them were often moved between different sites, Esther never actually saw him, and only had heard of him, an unpredictable man. He had done worse than shooting a hypnotised man in the face, and some weren’t sure if he was human. At least, that’s what she thought. The main description she ever got of him was when someone would complain about a decision the higher ups made, only for someone to reply “well they hired Clef.”

“...Yes.” Esther replied.

“Okay, good. Anyways, I think I have a theory on where those two went.”

“You do? How, you just heard the description on how the breach went!?” Esther would be lying to herself if she said that Vale never did anything this weird. But now… she just couldn’t shake the feeling of there being something… more with what had happened.

“Okay, yeah, it needs some polish,” Vale admitted, “but I think I can make it work!”

“What kind of theory is it?” Esther asked. How could Vale come up with something like this so quickly?

“I still need to think it over, okay?”

And then she walked off.

“Hey, Vale, wait-” Esther wasn’t really enjoying this new trend of Vale just… leaving her, without an explanation as to why.

“Vale, listen-”

“Look, Esther, sorry, I’m just under a lot of stress right now.” Vale stopped walking, and turned back to her.

“Vale, you’re a doctor, this isn’t in your field.” Esther tried to confront her.

“Look, Esther, I just, you don’t understand. The day’s over, go home and rest, ok?”

“What about you Vale?” Esther hoped this question would pierce her armor.

“...I’ll go home, okay? I just… have to work a bit before I can rest, I’m the doctor, I have more work to do.”

And Vale continued to run.