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dornish-queen · 4 months

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What the hell is going on here. If the sequel trilogy wasn't trashfire enough already. This better be a rumor.

#Star Wars rumors #plot rumors #star wars spoilers

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discordiansamba · 3 months

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concept where Keith and Pidge are two kids in the same class (with Pidge having skipped a few grades and Keith having been held back a year) who become friends and start up a youtube channel to investigate strange rumors and supernatural happenings. They rope Hunk and Lance into it somehow because neither Keith nor Pidge actually want to be on camera.

then all four of them get abducted by aliens.

they escape, and along the way, they solve the mystery behind the disappearance of a famous astronaut, meet a bunch of aliens (both scary and cool), pick up a teleporting space wolf and learn Keith was half-alien all along.

(all while Pidge is recording everything)

#keith: I just research the rumors. I leave all the computer and tech stuff to pidge #hunk and lance panicking when they wake up on an alien spaceship #meanwhile keith and pidge are already plotting their escape #keith: oh sweet. they didn't strip me of my explosives #lance: wait your WHAT #pidge: or your knife!#hunk: wa- oh wait we knew about the knife already

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onlyanika · 3 months

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De personalidade forte e intransigente, era usual que Anika levasse não mais do que cinco minutos para formar uma opinião a respeito dos demais - entendiando-se, então, com a presença alheia. E foi exatamente o que ocorreu ao observar os recém chegados ao quadrante se misturarem pelo amplo salão. Nenhum particularmente singular para prender-lhe a atenção ou despertar seu interesse. Assim, as íris avelãs deslizaram para as outras figuras ali presentes: voluntários que ocupavam o espaço de serventes, jamais a altura do mais covarde dos cadetes. "Uma longa vida destinada ao anonimato, a viver à mercê da alta sociedade ou o risco constante a procura de uma glória quase inalcançável?" A indagação escapou em um pensamento alto, resposta essa que nunca lhe fora dada a oportunidade de ponderar, não com o peso da relíquia da rebelião em sua mão.

#do nada ela filosofando qq askdjajd #se alguém quiser combinar inter ou plots é só me avisar!#só lembrando que a relíquia dela está sempre coberta #então apesar de existirem rumores de que ela seria uma marcada #não é nada confirmado #então tem aqueles que acreditam e os que não

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 2 months

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Chapter 12

UH OH

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

trying to move away from writing toko like chunsoft and adding more to her character (she's traumatized she wants to be loved but she's going about it in the worst way) but in the end none of her actions are condoned. she's fucked up still sorry but written in a more sympathetic light i hope?

syo WILL be in this fic but i do my best to make her hand-wavy explanation ambiguous (fuck whatever canon says about 'textbook split personality' btw)

@moonlighttogami and @tokiwigiwi :)

Content warning tags: implication of stalking/blackmail, Toko-expected creepiness, use of violence, character death

< previous - from start - next >

He’s not sure how much time passes when the door opens again.

“Finally,” He huffs, not bothering to turn. “Took you long enough. Honestly, how long does it take-”

He halts, as the intruder steps into the room, and quickly clicks his handbook shut. These weren’t Makoto’s footsteps. And - he surreptitiously covers his nose - that wasn’t Makoto’s smell. But he knows whose it was.

“...Toko. What do you want.” He turns and glares at the girl who has intruded on his space. She fidgets where she stands, a thin shadow of dark purple. The smell of her has grown stronger over the past few weeks, and hangs around her like a miasma.

“M-master Byakuya…”

He feels a full-bodied shiver of disgust run over his skin. “Don’t call me that.”

She ignores him, and carries on. “A-about last night…”

Right. To be completely honest, he was hoping that he had scared her enough the night before to make her leave him alone entirely. But he’s not surprised either; if she had the nerve to blatantly try and look at his secret, it wasn’t surprising that she had the boldness to try and confront him like this.

“What about last night.” He says stiffly, and she jumps as if shocked.

“I-I know about your eyes!” She blurts at last. “A-and, I know Ch-Chihiro knows it too…I, I heard you t-talking about it i-in the b-bathhouse last night…”

He feels his lip curling, revolted. Of course she had eavesdropped; she was quickly proving to be one of the more annoying stalkers he’d ever had the displeasure of dealing with. The number of people who were aware of his condition was also rapidly increasing against his will. At this point he might as well do the same as Fujisaki and announce it out loud.

Fukawa continues in her irritating stutter. “A-and…y-your envelope…” He freezes immediately, suddenly latching on to her every word.

“What did it say?” He demands, and she flinches - shivers? - arms crossing over her torso.

“I-if I t-tell you, y-you won’t w-want anything to d-do with m-me anymore…” She mutters, seemingly to herself, and he feels another wave of revulsion roll over him.

“Out with it. I already want nothing to do with you, but if you don’t speak up now-”

What will he do? He tries to come up with a threat that can hold actual weight, but they all sound pathetic, even to himself. If only Makoto were here, he could at least get him to chase her away…how long does it take to talk to three people, anyways?

Ironically, it’s Fukawa who saves him from having to think of something. “I-I know you’re r-really mad at m-me for r-reading your secret last night,” She continues, and she’s swaying slightly, as if drunk. “U-um, I-I promise n-not to t-tell anyone! About your eyes, o-or your envelope…a-and, I’ll t-tell you mine, t-too.”

“I’m not interested.” He says flatly. “Tell me what was written in my envelope. Now.”

She shakes her head instead. “I-I know th-there’s no way for you t-to have r-read yours yet, right? S-so only I know!” The light catches on her spectacles, and it gives the illusion of two, illuminated orbs on her face. “W-which makes me m-more special than M-Makoto, or Chihiro, right?”

She sounds deranged. Her voice is pitched with desperation, and she’s breathing heavily. She takes a step closer. “I-I know all your s-secrets, and once y-you know mine…s-so you can r-rely on me, m-more than Makoto, o-or Chihiro?” Another step, and the floorboard creaks. “I-I’ll do better than th-them! And, and I can accept you f-for all your secrets, s-so, you don’t n-need them, I promise!”

“Stay back.” He snaps, shifting backwards. The revulsion was curdling, mixing with fear, and crawling down his back like something physical, like the vile, unwanted sensation of fingernails, tickling over his skin. He hates this irrational panic - she was just a girl, and a pathetic one at that - but here he was, shying away anyways, unable to discern her next move, her intentions. “I’m warning you-”

She lurches forward, and he takes an inadvertent step back. His back meets the bookshelf; he was trapped. “S-so don’t get scared,” She says, though these words really only have the opposite effect on him. “D-do you remember the news, a few y-years back? A-about Genocider S-Syo?”

Genocider Syo? The name sounds familiar, but it takes him a moment to place where he’s heard it before. It was a few years before he enrolled at Hope’s Peak, while in transit to some social gathering or another; Pennyworth had left the car radio tuned to the local news.

“The serial killer?” He asks aloud, as he subtly searches the shelves behind him, trying to find something to use as a weapon. The tip of his index finger catches on the spine of a large, plastic-bound copy of some textbook or another, and he leverages it slowly out of the shelf, feeling sweat beginning to slicken its cover.

She nods eagerly, her braids bouncing. “I-I knew you’d kn-know about it,” She sounds relieved, somehow, voice breathless. “Y-you know, th-the first place Syo turned up was the town w-where I was b-born…i-it was my f-first crush that was the f-first victim, y’know?”

It clicks together quickly for him. The radio announcer had described bloody and ugly scenes of murder, the displayed corpses of young men and boys, all attributed to a mysterious killer with a penchant for stabbing their victims. And now standing before him was a clearly-deranged, unwell girl, well-known for her romance novels, and apparently obsessed with him.

“I-it’s okay!” She says hurriedly, as he presses himself closer to the shelf. “Sh-she only c-comes out when I-I’m really t-tired, o-or if I see b-blood…b-but, I c-can control her! I am controlling her, I promise!” She steps forward again, and this close, he can see the sickly flush on her face, the shine of sweat - tears? - down her cheeks. “I’ve b-been working s-so hard, s-so she won’t h-hurt anyone again…so it’s o-okay! I c-can be good! See?” She hiccups slightly, she must be crying. He can’t imagine why. “S-so now we can be equal, r-right?!”

She staggers towards him again, and he reacts before he can even think twice about it, yanking the book from its shelf and swinging blindly. The edge catches her across the face, whipping it sharply to the side with a sickly crack and a squeal - there’s a crest of blood, splattering up the length of the book, he can feel a few warm drops splash his hand, the skin crawling where it landed - and she crashes against the shelves with a shriek, stumbling.

“Why?!” She wails, hands shooting to her face. She sounds genuinely distraught, and she shakes as she scrubs at her nose with her palms. “I-I told you m-my biggest secret, a-and I kn-know yours…w-why won’t you tr-trust me?!”

“Trust you?!” He laughs, mirthless and a little frenzied, pitched wildly with his thudding heart. “You repulse me.” He steps forward now, book still clutched in his shaking hand. “Why would I ever trust a murderer in a killing game?”

She flinches as if his words were more physical blows, stumbling away from him and knocking against the shelf. A few books rain down, thudding open on the floor. “I-It’s not me,” She babbles, clutching at her head. “S-Syo - she’s j-just s-someone else, she’s in m-me, b-but I can c-control her, I p-promise - sh-she’s not me, she’s not me, she’s not!”

It sounds vaguely like some dramatized description of a split personality, though Byakuya had never heard of any such disorder that matched Fukawa’s apparently extreme case. Whatever the girl had going on would probably warrant its own DSM volume, but he wasn’t particularly interested in that. “I don’t care if she’s a ghost that’s possessing you or a secret twin taking your place. I want nothing to do with either of you.”

“B-but-”

“Get out.” He snarls, chest heaving. “If I hear anything - anything - on my condition, I will make you wish you were dead.” She doesn’t move, and he feels his teeth clench enough to creak. “I said, OUT.”

She darts, stumbling and stepping through one of the piles of boxes on the floor, completely breaking through the lid. Whatever was inside it stays looped around her ankle as she kicks the lid off, and clicks against the floor as she sprints away, her sobs fading as she goes.

___

For safety, he blocks off the door to the library with the chair, jamming it beneath the handles.

Then, he waits for Makoto, pacing, agitated. Really, how long could it take to accompany one person to talk to three people? His clock in his handbook stated that hardly an hour had passed since Makoto first left, and ten minutes since he sent Fukawa away. Surely, he had to be coming back eventually?

Not that there was anything keeping Byakuya in the library, other than his own uncertainty regarding his safety. Considering that he knew Fukawa’s alternate identity, and her apparent infatuation with him, it would be foolish to make the trek back to his room alone.

He stops pacing, frustration and restlessness boiling over. And returns to the files, shuffling through them, handbook held aloft to read the names printed on the edge of each folder, ignoring the ones that clatter to the ground after he shoves them haphazardly back. Finally, he comes across the one he's looking for, and slides it out of the shelf.

The front of it is stamped with the title in silver: ‘The Murder Cases of Genocider Syo: Top Secret’. He flips it open.

The text is interspersed with images of the victims before and after their unfortunate encounters with Fukawa. He can’t make much out about them, other than the fact that all the murder scenes seemed similar enough; photos of pale bodies, stretched out as if crucified, splattered with blood. Their faces, which must have been twisted with agony, are merely dark smudges.

“...As with the other cases, at the scene of the crime the word ‘BLOODLUST’ was written with the victim’s blood,” Alter Ego reads aloud. “The scissors used in the murder were apparently custom-made, with every pair left at each murder scene seeming to be of the same material and construction…”

How vile. He flips through the pages (one of which is annoyingly wrinkled, and furthermore, smudged with dirt), reading through the victim's descriptions. There was a sort of morbid curiosity that drew him to read further, even as his stomach turned with the knowledge that he could end up like one of these men; pinned like a butterfly for the killer to admire and laud over.

He snaps the file shut at last, feeling nauseous, and sinks down with his back against the shelf, suddenly exhausted - the adrenaline from Fukawa’s confrontation is gone, leaving behind a bone-deep fatigue. Sluggishly, he categorizes what he knows:

One: Fukawa was also Genocider Syo, a notorious serial killer who targeted young men.

Two: Fukawa both knew he was blind, and the contents of his envelope. He reaches into his pocket and feels for it, the paper now crinkled and warped. He still can’t bring himself to try and use Alter Ego to read its contents, but so long as Fukawa knew…there was little he could do about it.

That brought him to three: Fukawa was apparently obsessed with him. That was clear from the start, but he underestimated how dangerous her infatuation was. What she wanted from him was, apparently, some kind of romanticized relationship, if her mutterings about mutually sharing secrets and calling him ‘master’ was anything to go by, but nothing that could possibly be built on equal footing. Not if she was trying to leverage the envelope’s contents and his blindness against him.

He pauses at that. Did Fukawa know he was capable of using Alter Ego through his handbook to read? If she did, then there was no point in her trying to hold it over him. But then that meant she might try to manipulate him in other ways, the most simplest being blackmail. For that, he’d need to silence her…

And to do that, I would need to kill.

He drums his fingers against the hardwood floor. It’d be hard, but he could do it. She was already fixated on him, it should be easy enough to lure her somewhere and take care of her, either with a blunt-force weapon or strangulation - stabbing was too messy with the blood splatter - but the real difficulty then was how to conceal his tracks.

He thinks for a moment of Maizono, and how she had swapped rooms with Makoto solely for this intention. He thought her foolish then, but in hindsight, it really was an impressive display of quick thinking…though, it wasn’t one that he could copy.

What if he did it in a shared space? In one of the empty classrooms? People hardly went into these rooms, and it’d be harder to pin down the culprit. But he’d have to be fast about it, and careful; anyone who sees him or Fukawa entering that space, or leaving it, could easily identify him as the suspect. It’d have to happen at night.

But, she’s also smarter than she looks… He rubs at his temples now, frowning. She might see the similarities between this and Maizono’s attempt, and realize it’s a trap. I can’t risk that. It’d be easier if I could easily pin it on someone, but the amount of people who might be stupid or willing enough to let themselves be used…

The list was very short. Makoto, who was already a non-option. Yamada, who was too closely allied with Celeste to be trusted. Hagakure, who was too paranoid to be easily led into anything anyways...

And Chihiro.

He’s suddenly struck with the realization that if he succeeds, the others die. It would not be just one person’s blood on his hands, it would be multiple, including those he chooses not to directly involve. He hesitates, for an instant - and then lowers his hands slowly, a sense of defeat settling over him.

He’s already failed before he even started. This game could only have one winner, and if he could not fully commit himself to that role and accept the consequences of it, then he was never a real competitor to begin with. Circles within circles. He was back to the start.

Frustration isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with, but it’s been a long time since he’s felt so overwhelmed with it, as he tilts his head back, knocking it against the shelf as he stares blankly at the brown fog of the ceiling. And then slams a fist against the floor, hissing venomous, ugly curses under his breath. If only he had his eyes, again - he wouldn’t need to be so concerned with such things, wouldn’t need to waver - and yet.

Where the hell is Makoto? He thinks numbly, exhausted with it all. He was sick of being left with nothing but his nerves, and how long did it take to talk to just three people anyways?

Thump, thump, thump.

A rhythmic banging snaps him out of his thoughts. For a moment, he thinks it’s coming from the door, and clumsily pushes himself up, while fumbling for something, anything, to use as a weapon - his hands find the hard, stiff cover of a case file, still on the floor - and stares down the door, waiting for someone to break through it-

But nothing. The chair that’s stuck under the doorknob hasn’t even budged, from what he can tell. The banging continues, and he realizes it sounds more like hammering than knocking. It wasn’t even against the library door.

Construction? Hagakure did mention hearing construction sounds earlier. Was Monokuma building something again?

The sound ends, replaced by footsteps approaching his door. He tenses, taking a step back, but a moment later, the footsteps patter down the hall and away, fading out of earshot.

He stays where he is for a long moment, caught between terror and curiosity. Curiosity wins out, and he steps slowly to the door, hesitating once more with one hand on the chair.

But before he can even do anything, the air is pierced by a blood-curdling scream, and he throws the chair away, yanking the door open-

Only to be met with the sight of Chihiro Fujisaki’s corpse.

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff chapters #thpff #danganronpa fanfiction #byakuya togami #hi....sorry for the delay...#in my defense i was waffling a while about posting this bc once i do it means im locked into my trial 2 case and scene etc #and im still writing the trial 2 scene WHOOPS....#also was feeling very bleh this past week. whatever im fine now #byakuya full on plotting a murder before realizing. wait a minute. i care about people now.#and then having a mild crisis about it. prince zuko style except instead of getting a fever he starts swearing in french #hitting a girl? not cool byakuya #im so sorry chihiro i love you tho #the scene were toko gets makoto to go with her to talk to byakuya doesnt happen here #and also toko has been watching byakuya hang out exclusively with makoto #and hearing the rumors that they were having a scandalous drauma-fraught romance #so she ended figuring that the best thing she could do was corner him herself. hence the gathering of blackmail material etc etc #not necessarily the most romantic thing but she sees it as creating a level playing field where he's forced to acknowledge her at all

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fideidefenswhore · 15 days

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Out of all of the people who had orchestrated Anne's downfall, which of them disliked her the most? I'm going with Cromwell.

I mean...to have been participants in this, it's likely they all disliked her, although arguably some of them (Carew, Bryan) hadn't seemed to initially do so, Bryan esp. being the one that seems to have had a good working relationships with her through 1530, at the least...

Chapuys seems to imply it's Carew and Montague leading the faction, at least earliest on. Arguably this must have changed over time, as Edward Seymour is present in an extremely important and politically significant meeting (the attempted Imperial rapprochement of April 1536, which he attended , between Cromwell, HVIII, and Chapuys), and they're not. Although...what reason, arguably, did the Seymours have for especially 'disliking' Anne and/or the Boleyns? Their daughters were promoted to her household. They might have had simmering resentment that another 'minor' noble family had risen so high and secured so much power and influence, but that doesn't really set them apart from many others than likely felt the same way, and it's not quite strong enough of a motivation for...such a conspiracy? If that makes sense.

Cromwell is the only one of these that she's reported as having said she'd "like to see his head off" though, so...yeah, probably him.

#well actually chapuys claims she wants the 'most extreme measure of the statute' exercised against coa and mary #and is constantly plotting their deaths....so. there's that #mind those are reports he mainly gives to granvelle; not charles v directly #granvelle tended to be where he delivered the most sensationalistic rumors #which makes sense as charles v seemed to get...irritated by the constant refrain ; pattern; and themes of his letters over time #particularly from 1533 onwards #purplefictionlover

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boundinparchment · 9 months

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2,621 words and I’m still only on the goddamn reception. This story is just cursed to have longer chapters, I suppose.

#for the good of the plot these chapters always end up being 2k+ and easily 3k if I push #I hate them your honor I fucking hate these two #fic: blasphemous rumors

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stairset · 1 year

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The Ahsoka show might be great. It might suck. It might just be mid. Either way I’m glad Rebels is gonna be essential viewing (I mean more than it already is) and the normies will no longer have any excuse to blatantly ignore it just cause they assume it’s Too Kiddy because of the art style. I had to deal with people saying Solo was the first time the Imperial March was established as the Empire’s in-universe national anthem. I had to deal with people saying Fallen Order was the first time a Jedi knighting ceremony was shown in canon. I had to deal with people watching Clone Wars season 7 and thinking Ursa was the Armorer cause they didn’t take five seconds to read the end credits. I had to deal with people who didn’t watch Clone Wars OR Rebels talking about Mandalore stuff and thinking they know more than me cause they skimmed a Wookieepedia article. I had to deal with people saying the Obi-Wan show should’ve been about Maul hunting down Obi-Wan as if it wasn’t a story that had already been told 5 years prior. No more. At long last I shall be free.

#that fifth example in particular pissed me off so much #like i remember seeing rumors that maul was originally considered to be in the obi-wan show #and that filoni was the one who suggested they use the inquisitors instead #which as far i can tell all that was just rumors with no hard confirmation #but anyway someone made a post about it that was like ''oh OF COURSE filoni suggested they use a character from a filoni show''#and i mean say what you will about dave showing favoritism towards his characters #but you REALLY think it was a bad call to feature the jedi hunters instead? in the show about a surviving jedi?#you REALLY gonna tell me it would've been better if they dismissed an entire season's worth of plot development from rebels?#yeeeaah no. fuck off.#and the mandalore thing is the second most annoying of these #like at least half of the worst takes about the mandalorian are from people who never watched clone wars or rebels #and think reading fandom wikis is a substitute for actually experiencing the story and makes them an expert #i'm not saying everyone's obligated to watch them. just don't act like you know more than me when you don't. bitch.#the first three examples aren't nearly as annoying it's just about the principle #shut up tristan

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teecupangel · 1 year

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I vote for AC x COD. Because of the Bleeding Effect, Desmond can speak his ancestor's fluentency of different languages. In Modern welfare one, what if Desmond's ancient arabic is noticed by Hadir and Farah and possibly by Captain Price because he spoke arabic in one scene.

The Leverage AU or Call of Duty Crossover sorta-poll for anyone interested

Leverage is still leading by 1 vote! Other than that...

So, according to Call of Duty wiki, Urzikstan is a fictional country based on many Middle-Eastern countries affected by terrorist groups and activities however the map that shows where Urzikstan is meant to be is in northern Syria.

I propose we make Urzikstan next to Syria or maybe even part of real-life Syria that was divided into two: Syria and Urzikstan in AC/COD universe.

Why is this important?

Because this would put Urzikstan in Levant. The image used is approximately 350 km from Masyaf as well (I checked because I was considering just smacking Masyaf as part of Urzikstan hahahaha).

Now, since Urzikstan is now part of Levant, if Desmond was to meet Hadir and Farah and speak his antiquated Arabic, they would notice it. And they would notice that Desmond’s Arabic is of Levantine origin. Maybe they’d even hear stories about the Assassins of old, of their white robes with hood shadowing their faces.

But Farah would be “Naaahh” because Desmond is such a chill dude.

Hadir would be suspicious because he has heard rumors that the Assassins still exist.

Farah used to believe in them as well, especially when she was still a child. But seeing how no one has saved their country from men like Barkov has made her believe that the Assassins are just fairytales told by the people to have hope.

Captain Price, on the other hand, has seen too much shit already that he wouldn’t put it past the realm of possibility that the Assassins and Templars exist but he’s not truly in the know. Only rumors and such. He wouldn’t hear Desmond’s Arabic and think “Oh, he’s an Assassin”. It’s a curious thing, yes, but the logical explanation would be that Desmond learned Arabic by reading really old books and maybe watching period dramas or something. (This, of course, is chalked by Gaz as another reason why Desmond is a posh kid with access to all those expensive weird shit rich people have)

#correct me if i'm wrong #my source of geographic information is just google #farah has a chip on her shoulder #hadir will definitely be one of those dudes who looovveesss rumors and gossips #and scary stories to tell in the dark #ramirez! add the proper tags!#assassin's creed #desmond miles #call of duty mwii #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #farah karim #hadir karim #captain price #john price #captain john price #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot

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hirik0 · 9 months

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Jealousy part 7

Please ignore the unhige tags. 😌

09Soap/Ghost

Two grown man sharing a standart military bed, well thinks are geting very close. Soap tried several times to leave because General Shepard will chew his ass out if the paper work is not finished, but Simon had a death grip on him when ever Soap tryes to move just a inch to far or any inch. He also needed time to freak out about him fucking Ghost, he's so confused he needs to wrap his head around this. Eventually the steady breathing of Ghost lulled him in to sleep.

When Soap wakes up because of Simons alarm at 5 am, it's warm. Simon is still pressed against him looking peaceful. It feels terrifying domestic. Simon is slowly opening his eyes because of the alarm. He just deactivates the alarm and the burrys his face in to Soaps neck. A blush forming on his cheeks. "Morning", Soap just says to him with a smile on his face. "Morning." Simon answers, sounding like he's ready to just go back to sleep. "Go back to sleep, your off recruit duty today." Soap says while ready to leave the bed. "Stay?", Ghost ask unusual insecure. "Would like to, but General Shepard is calling in 2 hours and I still need to get some thinks done before, like reading the damm file." And Soap himself his shoked by the how much he wants to stay. Ghost makes some displeased sound but let's Soap get up. Ghost is watching him with one eye open ready to fall back to sleep at any moment. "See you later", Soap says before kissing Ghost on the cheek, who is making a pleased sound. A small smile is appearing on Ghost face before he closes his eye again returning to sleep, buring his face in the pillow and Soaps heart is trying to jump out of his ribcage. He's a Captain his time of sneacking out of others rooms back to his own should be over. When he is in his room he looks up at the wall over his bed the calander has today marked as heat have start. He's horrified remembering that he littered Ghosts neck and shoulders with bits and hickeys in the assumption nobody will see. And for the love of God, not even Ghost covers up in a British heat wave, and his shorts are short. Like really short as in just covering his ass. How is he gonna survive this now after he they had sex and him having these feelings? This is his punishment for sleeping with his subordinate and god he remebers telling Ghost about a next time. He would ask himself what he was thinking but he was not thinking in this moment. "The weather report can be wrong, the heat wave can just not start today or this weak or at all." He says to himself in a attempt to not freak out. He gets dressed in clean cloths and leaves to get a coffee before he wastes anymore time he don't have to finish this important file or atleast appear as if he did work on it. On the way from the barracks to the mess hall it's already disgusting warm, his shirt starting to syick to his back, this heat wave is hitting them with full force. He don't meet anybody while he grabs his coffee at 5:20 am and it's also nobody in the building with his office.

When Ghost wakes up the next time the first think he notices, he's sweating, its fucking hot and not in there is another body next to him way but in a heat wave is hitting Britain way. He looks at his alarm clock it being just 11 am and with the feeling if getting backed in his room slready this is the most sleep he will get. It's also not helping that he's blushing over the memory of Soap kissing his cheek he got because Soap needed to work and couldn't stay. And hes definitely feeling how Soap fucked him, sore in satisfying way. And he told Soap about a next time, god Soap really fucked his brain out. Why did he say that, he wants a next time but he didn't had to tell Soap that. Well he told Soap a lot of thinks he shouldn't had. He's burying his face in to the pillow that smells like Soap and breaths out heavily. When he pushes himself up on of his shoulders stinks and he rembers that, Soap bit him very hard. In general Soap did not hold back with marking him. He goes in the bathroom to see just how much Soap marked him. His mouth falls open, Soap tried to turn his neck and shoulders in to on giant bruise. Normally this would not be a problem, he's coverd like a victoriana lady 24/7 but in a heat wave? Everbody will see, everybody will know, everybody in the 141 will ask. A smirk is forming on Ghost face, oh will he get in trouble with MacTavish for this idea yes, will he likey get punished for this also yes. The question is just what the punishment will be and he thinks if he plays his cards right he will enjoy it. When he looks down he notice a hand print on his hip and he should not find this so hot. "Try to claim me Captain?", he ask his reflection. He goes back to his room searching his closet for the right clothes. He finds his favourite pair of shorts really easy, but he just can't find tank top he's looking for. He he finally finds it in the very back he smirks again. After a quick shower he puts both thinks on and is checking in the mirror if Soaps mark a perfectly seeable for everyone. The smirk gets even bigger when he sees that you can see the hand print when he has to lifts his arms up. Ghost looks at his smug smirking reflection and wispers a perfect to himself. He then covers up his outfit with a standart clean pair of military pants and jacket. Putting a medical face mask hin his jacket pocket before putting on his standart mask and sunglasses. Their is no way he will wear a full mask all day if it's already that warm.

Soap sees Ghost for the first time since the morning, while he's still in the meeting with Shepard, for 4 hours, and there is no way Ghost will survive wearing standart uniform in this heat wave. He already has his ventilator on because god today will be hot. He is just wearing a t-shirt but this already feels like to much and Ghost well don't really has a choice thanks to him. It also looks like he collected Riley, because the dog is following his owner dutifully. Riley walks up to Soap sniffing him acusetory, as if to ask why are you smelling like each other. Ghost comes in his office takes a bunch of his paper work and looking trough them. Making a pile of filles Soap assumes he will work on. Soap is thankful for this because he and Price try to do as less paperwork as they can get away with. Suplies forms and mission reports are probably the only think they file out on a regular bases. For some reason he has a suspicious feeling when he looks at Ghost outfit. He's beeing ridiculous Ghost would never parade hickys and marks, he's a very private person. Ghost gives him a not before leaving the office and for some reason Soap has the feeling he has a smug expression hidden under the mask.

Everything is working acordig to plan, Ghost thinks to himself while he puts the files on his empty desk. He not only is in a air conditioned building, but Soap now thinks he will try to be covered up. The first think he does in the office is replacing his face cover, revealing a good amount of Soaps marks. He also knows that the biggest administration gossip will walk in his office very soon. And she is spreading base gossip faster then light. Wich means that Gaz and Meat will be in his office before lunch, and they will hopefully make a comment about it to Soap. "Lieutenant Riley, I have some..", a female voice starts but then stops mid sentence. Ghost really needs to fight to keep a neutral face expression. "You have what?", he ask. "Some files for you to work on", Stacy Smiths, base gossip queen finishes her sentence. When she drops the files on his desk she can't keep a comment to herself. "Got lucky eh? Pretty wild think you got in the sheets." "Thanks." Ghost answers as uninterested as he can, while he really has to fight down a grin. Perfect, this is working absolutely perfect. "Well hope you enjoyed her", Stacy says before she leaves the office as fast as she can with out running. An evil grin is spreading a cross Ghost face. Phase 1 of his plan worked out perfectly.

Gaz nearly drops his phone after reading the text from Stacy. 'Lieutenant Riley god lucky with a lassy last night.' It states and this just can't be true. Ghost and Soap are dancing around each other for months now. He sends the recruits to an early lunch running in to Meat on the way to Ghost office. "You think it's true?", Gaz ask. "I gues he's not the kiss and tell person. Just said thanks for looking after Riley." Meat answers. "What are we using as cover?" "How Riley did on the mission." The two walk in to Ghost office and of course Stacy is right he got lucky last night. He's neck is littet with hickys. "Aren't you suppose to train the recruits?, Ghost ask them. "Sent them to an early lunch before the heat wave gets to much for out door training, Sir." Gaz answers. "And your going in to the admin building to get air conditioning or?" "We wanted to now how Riley did, Sir.", Meat spills out. "Perfectly, even when the smell of jungle was a bit much at first." They know that will likely the most information they get. So in an impulse desition Gaz ask: " will you help in hand to hand combat training, Sir?" And Ghost really has to think about it. He could, but he has enough paper work for most of the week on his desk. Also he's not sure how Soap will react if he pushes to far "Maybe later this week Sergeant Garrick." He just answers, letting the two pet ans spoil Riley with attention for a bit, before kicking them out of the office. "Let's see if the Captain will walk in here soon, Riley", he says to himself, getting rit of his jacket.

When Soaps sits down at the same table as Meat and Gaz, he has a very suspicious feeling. The two very suddenly stopped their conversation. "Spill.", Soaps nearly orders them. "Stacy told us that Ghost got lucky yesterday and he did.", Meat says carefully watching Soaps reaction. And only years of military training are keeping Soaps face from dropping. "Oh did he?" "Got fucking mauled by what Stacy assumes a woman", Gaz says. "Oh, good for him.", Soap trys to answer as neutral as possible. Meat and Gaz are looking at him like they are waiting for his jealousy to bubbel up. And it would if he didn't know 100% HE had sex with Ghost yesterday. While Soap take a bit out of his food Meat drops: "You think Ghost will shate her name if I ask?" Soap is choking on his food. Oh god, no, no Ghost will definitely not share a name. "You think Ghost is a kiss and tell type?", Soap conters, trying to act as normal as possible and hopeing they will think everything unusual is just his jealousy. "Well also never thought he would show of his sex life like this", Meat while shrugging his shoulders, Gaz is suspiciously silent watching every expression and move Soap makes. Gaz picks up some strange vibes from the Captain. A theory forming, but how to prove it? "Well not even Ghost wants to suffer in a heat wave other wise we would not know", Soap says off hand, like he don't care. "Mhm, so what if Stacy is wrong about the gender of the person slepped with?", Gaz ask out of the blue. "Who Ghost sleeps with in his of time free is non of our buisness, Gaz", Soap scolths him a bit more agressiv than needed. Gaz just raises his eye brow a knowing glint in his eyes. "Your right Captain", Gaz just says and starts eating again. When Meat is trying to say something again Gaz is kicking his leg. Soap has the feeling Gaz figured this mysterious sex partner of Ghost out. He can't say or do anything about it, just hoping nobody will believe him. The last think he needs now is Price lecturing about not having sex with subordinates. He's not sure who would be more embarrassed by it Price or him. After the three is leaving the mess, Gaz is dropping a bomb on Soap. "Can't wait for Ghost supervising the hand to hand combat training of the FNCs, they will learn a lot from him." He's fucked, thats it, he's done. He needs to talk with Ghost.

A littel bit later then expected Soap enters his office. He hastily closes the door. Ghost looks up from his papers. Forcing to not smirk at the Captain. Soaps jaw is dropped open a light blush creeping over his cheeks. The tanc top he's wearing is very skin tight showing of his muscular chest and showing his shoulders are in the same state as his neck. "So Gaz and Meat told the truth about you showing of", Soap simply states, when his brain is able to form words again. "Well somebody forgot that a heat wave is about to come, hardly a showing of if i don't want a heat stroke", Ghost just states. "Well didn't thought the first day would already be that hot, you would stop beeing a victoriana lady", Soap hisses stepping closer to Ghost desk. "You want me to show of? Then I can help with hand to hand combat training later", Ghost says with a smug expression on his face. "No", Soap growls jealousy running throw his veins, forcing Ghost to look him in his eyes by grabbing his chin. Nobody is allowed to see Ghost like this besides him. "I think they really would learn a lot from me", Ghost simply states a mischievous glint in his eyes. This should have told Soap that the bratty side of Ghost he saw yesterday is playing with him, trying to push his buttons to get what Ghost wants. "They will think your easy if you actually show of", Soap warns him. "They will learn its not that easy very fast", Ghost conters, knowing he won by the heated look in Soaps eyes he just needs to push a bit more. "Well I imagined you begging for my dick then." A blush is creeping over Ghost face but Soap will not silence him. "You say that like your sure I will do that again, Captain", he provoking Soap in to a impulsive desition. The grip on his chin is tightening. "Oh you will, Lieutenant. I fucked you so good you cried for me", Soap reminds him a proud and smug look on his face. "Well you will have to put more effort for the same results next time, just got lucky right after a mission", Ghost says to remove the look out of Soaps face. And this is when Soap catches on, what Ghost is doing. "Oh, I will, when Price is back we are taking a nice vacation together and I will make you cry in my sheets while fucking you." "Don't make claims you can't keep. Still not sure your even have the stamina to do this." "Oh I think you will strugel to keep up." "All talk no action again, Soap." But a very visible blush is covering all of Ghost face. "Don't think after yesterday you would be able to take my full stamina." Ghost eyes widen at this and his swallowing hard. "Try me", is the only think Ghost can come up with. Soap looks at him as if he's thinking about it before pulling Ghost out of his chair to wisper in his ear: "Yeah, want your desk fantasy finally come true, Simon?" Ghost is audible gasping at this having lose the control of the situation. "Answer me." "Yes, Sir." "My office 21:00. But don't whine when your can't sit tomorrow." With that Soap removes his hand from Ghost face and grabs his stupid balaclava from the desk before leaving the Office. Ghost just falls back in his chair face red as a tomato breathing heavily. A very confused Riley is resting his head on his legs looking with him his big brown eyes at him. Absently he is scratching Rileys ear, trying to figure out when he lost control over the situation.