Muv-Luv Franchise - FanFiction Discussion

[wavehawk]

I'm only thinking about it. Have got too much stuff (fanfic and other things) to actually work on it. As I said: the original Stark vs Shirogane short bit was written totally random out of the blue.

It's starting to sound interesting enough to do, but I'm not sure how it'll all go together or that I'll have the time to do it.

[Wild Goose]

Did a little bit of writing while I was on my tempban, for telling a troll exactly why I called him a troll. Somehow, the mods considered that ban-worthy.

Anyway. Sasahara17 alluded to soviet Valkyries in his snip on the Crusader, which led me to consider: who might make those Soviet valks, and who would be the test pilots?

Currently this is what I have. It's still not quite finished, however; I'd say it's only about a quarter of the way done, despite being a one-shot.

Spoiler for Feniks Rising:

“Only DD Ivanov could make walking away from the wreck of a multi-million ruble prototype look good.”
- Attributed to Su-51 Feniks design team member.

-=-

DD Ivanov faced two sources of danger in his daily life.

First, and the more manageable, was his role as the Sufoni Design Bureau’s test pilot for the Su-51 Feniks. Project Valkyrie’s introduction of the Variable Tactical Fighter, a new paradigm in aerial warfare, hadn’t gone unnoticed by Sufoni’s bosses. Just because they made the best 2nd generation TSF (the Zhuravlik, Comrade), best quasi-3rd generation TSF (the Terminator, Comrade) and the best 3rd generation TSF (but of course, the Berkut, Comrade!) did not mean they could afford to rest on their laurels. While their contacts at Northrock-Grunnan had managed to send them what data they could, Sufoni’s engineers were still making up the Feniks (naturally, best VTF, Comrade!) as they went along.

This had obvious dangers for the test pilot, but DD understood danger, embraced it, and planned carefully to manage whatever dangers he would find. He was a test pilot: he was crazy, not suicidal.

The second danger was something he couldn’t really manage.

For reasons known only to God – or rather, to the higher ups for Projekt Feniks – they’d chosen to have multiple test pilots for the flight phase. This in itself wasn’t a problem to DD. What was a problem was the nature of the other test pilot.

Nora Polyansky was beautiful, intelligent, and a pretty good pilot. And for some reason that he didn’t fully understand, she viewed him as a rival, and was most displeased that he was the other test pilot on Projekt Feniks, an honor that should have gone to her alone. The danger she held was that DD had fast reached the point of what he believed was one-sided love. Or at least very strong lust, tempered with professional acknowledgement of her skills, and masculine appreciation for the way she filled her flightsuit.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten to know her as well as he would have liked, thanks to Nora’s attitude towards him. She was haughty, arrogant, believing totally in her skills and superiority as a pilot to him. Every other word she’d said to him had been laced with a barb of some sort. And yet she could be quite nice on occasions, such as bringing him a thermos of borscht when he’d forgotten dinner, a thinly-veiled encouragement hidden behind a haughty insult... in recent weeks they’d even begun to approach something vaguely like companionship, eating together, discussing flight plans, planning sorties, checking each other’s flight gear… their relationship was still rough, and nowhere like any of the combat units DD had flown with, but they were approaching a certain level of cooperation.

Though that might have something to do with the fact that, in DD’s professional opinion, the Su-51 prototype was inherently unsafe to fly, an opinion that he believed Nora shared. Not that they’d ever admit it to each other. They were pilots, afterall. Never admit to any fear.

“Remember, Ivanov, don’t crash that bird,” said Nora haughtily, as she accompanied him to the still form of the Su-51. “It’s my bird, not yours.”

“We really should have had two prototypes. In case something gets fucked up with this bird, there’s a spare. Works for the Americans.” DD shrugged as he climbed the boarding ladder, settling into the cockpit.

“Capitalist Yankee Dogs.” Nora gave a dismissive sniff. “We are pilots of the glorious Soviet Union. We will make do with what we have.” She was quiet for a moment, as she helped him strap in, and checked his straps. “Bring this bird back, DD. I still need to fly it.”

“I have never failed to land in anything I’ve taken off in,” said DD, smirking, as he fastened his helmet, and toggled the cockpit canopy. “By the way, Polyansky?” he said, as the canopy began to close.

“Yes, Ivanov? I am not making more of my borscht for you.”

“No, I just wanted to tell you – you’ve been ranting about capitalist dogs for all the time I’ve known you, so I thought I should tell you that I was born in New Jersey. I’m one of those Capitalist Yankee Dogs.”

Nora could only shout in impotent rage and beat her fists against the clear cockpit canopy, DD having closed it just in time. He wasn’t worried; the canopy was bulletproof plexiglass.

As the engines started and the Su-51 rose smoothly into the air, DD Ivanov couldn’t help but smile.

-=-

“CP, this is Zoya One. My altitude is two thousand meters above ground level. Airspeed is four-zero-zero kilometers per hour. Beginning Gerwalk transformation test.”

“Roger, Zoya One. You are clear to begin Gerwalk transformation.”

“Spasiba, CP. Zoya One copies. Transformation to Gerwalk in five, four, three, two, one, mark. Initiating transformation. Damn. Tower, be advised, my board is lighting up. I am seeing warning indicators. Transformation is partially complete and I am losing power and altitude.”

“Zoya One, this is chase TSF Viktor One. I can see smoke coming out from your leg engines. Be advised, you appear to be on fire.”

“Viktor One, acknowledged, initiating fire suppression and killing my engines. How do I look?”

“You are still smoking, Zoya One, but not as bad as before. Suggest you land soonest, your altitude is dropping rapidly.”

“Thank you for your advice, Comrade. Tower, Zoya One is declaring an emergency and aborting test.”

“Understood, Zoya One. We are preparing emergency vehicles. Do you wish to eject?”

“Negative, tower, I’ll land this bitch. Zoya Two wants to take it for a ride tomorrow.”

“Understood. Good luck, Zoya One.”

“Spasiba, tower. Engines out, attempting to restart. Will try to return to fighter mode. Using duct fan to generate lift. Restarting engines… failed. Restarting engines… restart success. Attempting transformation to fighter mode. Viktor One, how does it look?”

“Zoya One, you are in fighter mode. Your engines look to be on fire. Again. I’m seeing lots of smoke. But you seem to have power, so it is not all bad news.”

“That was not comforting, Viktor One. Tower, this is Zoya One. Initiating fire suppression. On approach.”

“Zoya One, I’m pacing you. Be advised that my gun camera is on and I am recording this disaster – it will make a fine comedy film for tonight’s entertainment.”

“Watch and observe, Viktor One – this is no comedy.”

"Zoya One, Viktor One. I'll bet you a bottle of Stolichnaya that you can't land that bitch."

"Viktor One, Zoya One. Two bottles and you have a deal."

[wavehawk]

Finally got back to writing this. it is PAINFUL.

Burkhart saluted, then turned toward the door. Her professional facade hid the heart of fear racing in her chest. Not a word else was said, though she heard Lumumba's footsteps behind her. The taller man caught up with her.

It wasn't until the two were out of Wilkes' earshot that he spoke.

"People usually ask."

Elle looked at Lumumba, quizzical.

"Normal people ask why Wilkes has that smile on all the time." Lumumba seemed more relaxed, but did not look at Elle. "Aren't you curious?"

"It's a combat injury." Burkhart replied.

"That it is." Lumumba smiled warmly back, something he did not do in private. "Maybe we'll talk about it more sometime."

So your warm and friendly side is just an act. Elle did not accuse him aloud. Everyone friendly she'd met in the Pit had been merely acting the part. Burkhart began to distance herself from the man, wanting to just break away for the moment.

"You might want to follow me." Lumumba gestured toward a different hallway. "I think this is a good time to meet the pilots."

Enough. Burkhart didn't mind being asked to fly after arrival, but the two long talks with Wilkes left her drained. Her current discomfiture with Lumumba was not helping. A glance at her watch. "Lumumba, it's been four hours since I arrived. Six if you count the flight from Dover Base. I haven't even found my bunk yet. Can't it wait?"

"Nope." Antoine Lumumba was all smiles now, all equally fake in Elle's eyes. "Meeting them now will save me explaining things later."

Burkhart didn't feel like arguing the matter further. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "All right."

"This is it for today, I promise." Antoine raised a hand in a boy scout salute. "You can rest afterwards."

I don't have a choice in the matter, right? Elle nodded in defeat, reminding herself that she wasn't with the more casual 66th any longer. Phantom Works was not so much strict in discipline as it was random. Burkhart felt as if she was being toyed with at every turn.

"Excellent." Lumumba led the way. After a deep breath, Elle followed. In the back of her mind, she wondered how the battle went with Icon Flight.

They must have been recalled at the same time. Burkhart followed behind Lumumba's stride as the man turned into a side hall Elle had not taken notice of before. Despite herself, Burkhart did not hesitate to follow.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she entered, following Lumumba still. Her guide finally stopped in front of a large glass window. It was more like a porthole, or an aquarium viewing panel. Elle took note of the thick rubber seals all around.On the other side, the soft and harsh white light of a hospital room. Inside stood men in white full-body 'clean' suits, the kind worn in danger of radioactive or biological contamination. None of them moved casually, standing at attention.

Waiting.

An alert horn sounded, and a red light flashed. Three times, then both sound and light stopped. The far end door opened, and the men inside prepared for action.

"You'll need to see this," Antoine did not smile this time. "Before you actually start talking to them."

Elle saw the pilots enter.

Normal TSF pilot Fortified Suits were made of skintight body-hugging material, a layer on networks that helped them control their giant machines. Burkhart often wondered how TSF pilots could wear them and not be self-conscious, thankful that UCAV pilots only needed the simple flight suits that aircraft pilots wore.

The Icon pilots' suits looked more like a full suit of armor. In effect, they were identical to the dead pilot Elle had seen earlier in the day.

Not like knights at all. They wore full-body armor plate but looked nothing like a medieval knight. A full-encasing helmet covered their features behind a dark gold visor and a breathing mask that looked like a dog's muzzle. The chestplate looked like uneven sections covering wiring and some pipes. What seemed to be a breathing tank hung of the right back side, Elle could not identify the device opposite the tank on the left. Heavy steps echoed as they strode slowly to the waiting, clinical-white suited techs. One pilot was taller than the other, but both looked massive in their suits.

Not like knights, Elle repeated. Like machinery.

The pilots stood at rest, spreading their arms. Tools were brought out, the techs swiftly dissassembling the suits. They were approached with the same regard as the TSFs in the hangar, heavy equipment down for maintenance. The heavier chestpiece and shoulder armor came off easily; Elle winced at the heavy metal crashing to the floor. One tech took what looked like a electric drill and started dismantling the taller pilot's metal-cowled spine.

Burkhart saw both the spinal cowl and blood spill to the floor. Strangely, she thought the liquid was alien. Only in afterthought did she remember human blood was red as well. As more of the metal and plastic foreign objects were peeled off or unbolted from their bodies, Elle could see patches of angry red skin show.

Red and pink scars, with yellow-green pus leaking from them. All circular, like moon craters. The scars wrapped themselves around filthy metal sockets. Metal ports that appeared well-used and chipped.

Another technician walked in, suddenly bombarding the entire group with a light mist. Both the pilots and techs remained silent.

"Antiseptic?" Burkhart reflexively asked.

"Yeah. Infection and blood clotting really messes up the dataspine's sockets." Lumumba's arms crossed. "Would have been nice if we could afford the higher-end prosthetics, but the budget had to cut corners somewhere."

Elle saw more armor fall off, and the pilots were almost completely naked in front of her. The tall one had a pale caucasian skin tone, the shorter one had a slightly darker asian shade. Both had the metal ports and bleeding scars. The tech with the sprayer was now using a sponge to wipe the caked blood from both men's bodies.

There was a loud metallic POP as the techs disassembled the helmets. The taller pilot had dark hair just long enough to hide the metal sockets on the base of his skull. The shorter one had a more traditional crew cut, exposing the almost tattoo-like metal wiring that slipped in and out of skin throguh scar tissue.

The techs completed their work and stood away. Burkhart couldn't avoid a nervous swallow. The two pilots were thoroughly naked, with the scars and large metallic sockets implanted at seemingly random positions of their body.

"Lt. Elle Burkhart?" Antoine had more of a smirk than a smile, portent of things to come. "Meet Lieutenants Todd Crane and Masato Asakura. Phantom Works test pilots for this project. They go by the callsigns Icon-2 and Icon-3, respectively."

Crane nodded, but did not respond. Asakura on the other hand, smiled back at her in a way that made her feel more naked than he was.

Lumumba chuckled. "I think Masato wants to see YOU naked."

Elle's eyes shot Antoine a look, but she had no response. This place is insane.

As if reading her mind, Lumumba repeated the Crew Boss' words.

"...nobody gets sent here that doesn't already belong here."

[Chibiloli]

I wonder if anybody can make a FanFic with a Yandere Yui:

Images

Sorry; dynamic content not loaded. Reload?

[Fireminer]

And that is going to be the scariest thing possible, even more than being CHOMPED by BETA, or an Axe Murderer (Katana Murderer, anyone?)

[Chibiloli]

Originally Posted by Fireminer

(Katana Murderer, anyone?)

I like the way you think.

[wavehawk]

I'm having a few bad ideas in mind...like...what's it like for a newbie to join Zhar Battallion and completely mess things up on his/her first mission?

"Ivanova is always right. I will listen to Ivanova. I will not ignore Ivanova's recommendations. Ivanova is God. And if this ever happens again...Ivanova will personally rip your lungs out!!!"

"Absolutely nothing happened in Sector 83 by 9 by 12 today. I repeat, nothing happened in Sector 83 by 9 by 12."

[wellis]

Originally Posted by Chibiloli

I wonder if anybody can make a FanFic with a Yandere Yui:

Images

Sorry; dynamic content not loaded. Reload?

Um where's the image?

[Chibiloli]

here's a smaller pic:

[wellis]

Interesting screencap. What episode is it from?

[ServantOfPriss]

Total Eclipse Visual Novel, I think.

Don't know the context, however.

[Chibiloli]

Hey, AMT, can you consider a school days anime ending in your Total Eclipse Extra Fanfic?

[Fireminer]

Alastor and Extra?

[Wild Goose]

Chibi, knock it off, you'll just piss off AMT even more.

As his BETA, however, I will state that should sech a scenario occur, I will do my utmost to talk him out of it. That said he's the author, final say is his.

[Alastor Mobius Toth]

You know, I actually know the School Days as VN (never watched anime), and majority of its endings are actually positive. Assuming you weren't a dick throughout the game.

So I find anime ending to be more of a comedy than anything.

That said, if anyone would be Yandere, it would be the Author Trio.

[John117xCortana]

I think that expression on Yui's face is the moment where she finds out that Yuuya is her half brother.

[ServantOfPriss]

In case anyone was thinking of sending Chirico to Alternative/UL timeline instead of our Bratty Saviour.

[wavehawk]

Originally Posted by ServantOfPriss

In case anyone was thinking of sending Chirico to Alternative/UL timeline instead of our Bratty Saviour.

- That's one way to get rid of Tank-class pretty fast...

[wavehawk]

Next bit. I'm literally going through hell right now, what with being forced to buy a new laptop because my old one just died, family problems, work problems, and some very big cracks in my sanity starting to show up.

Elle bolted upright in bed.

Whatever sleep she had gained was shattered by a nightmare, one she could not remember clearly. And yet her heart was racing in terror. Burkhart stood, and immediately checked the lock on her door. At the same time, she wondered if she wasn't being too paranoid. Shaking her pained skull, she looked at the room's clock.

03:21

Elle suddenly wanted to be in the UCAV. Safe, locked in it's cockpit system. It was an irrational thought, but it gnawed at her.

Logic told her to go back to sleep.

The terror in her soul would not let her.

There was no way Elle could stay in bed, not with her heart rapidly beating in fear. She took her clothes, the same flight jumpsuit she had worn on arrival. As an afterthought, she put on a flight jacket before leaving her room.

Even at night, the Pit was abuzz with activity. Burkhart walked the halls into the hangar, and there seemed to be no change from earlier in the day. Technicians and staff were working on the TSFs and weapons systems round-the-clock. Some still cast her suspicious glances as she took her walk. She saw the two machines, undergoing repairs and cleaning still. It even seemed that further additions were being made as the two Strike Eagles looked slightly different than they did earlier.

She made no gesture back to them, and walked on.

Without thinking, Elle found herself standing in front of the UCAV control pod. The temptation to simply sit in the pod and activate the Phantom Arc grew as she looked at it. Burkhart didn't even care about the UCAV itself, only the desire to fly it again, to become it.

One hand caressed the pod's surface a second, and she walked away.

I've got to get some air. Elle made her way up one of the small elevators. The lift lacked creature comforts as it creaked upward, stopping at the topmost level. There, Burkhart exited the Pit via a small shed door. Upon exiting, she realised the small structure stood out in the darkness of the plains. A tiny bulb lit the small area of the shed, like an odd rest spot in the middle of nowhere.

Elle hadn't noticed the structure on her flight in or on her UCAV sortie, and guessed it was far from the Pit's usual launch runways. She was also thankful for wearing the jacket, as the wind and lack of moisture made the outside cold all the more biting. It took her some time to adjust to the darkness.

There was one other person outside.

He was wearing a TSF pilot's jacket, similar to Elle's own flight jacket but of a more streamlined cut. In the darkness, she could not tell who of the two pilots it was.

"I don't like being watched."

Todd Crane. Burkhart walked up to the man. "I wasn't watching you."

Crane was silent, and did not even look at her. Elle originaly assumed he was smoking, but there was no such light or cigarette in his hand. He was standing there, looking out blankly at the darkness and the distant stars. A sudden gust of cold wind made her shiver, but it elicited no response from the TSF test pilot.

Just like a machine. Burkhart felt that this Todd Crane seemed visibly disinterested in anything outside of his job. It must have been hours, or maybe it was mere minutes before she mustered the courage to speak again. "Why are you here?"

"To fly TSFs." The reply was clinical, like a computer's response. "Why are you here?"

Elle blinked. It was just like a machine, parroting her original question. "I'm a UCAV pilot. I'm here flying chase for your test flight."

Crane did not nod, nor make any indication he heard her.

Not a conversationalist? Burkhart certainly felt like she was entering commands into a machine. "What was your previous unit, Lieutenant?"

"VF-31. Tomcatters." Still no emotional response. "What was your previous unit?"

We'll play that game, then. "I used to be a Search and Rescue UCAV pilot," Elle continued. "With the German Bundeswehr's 66th Armored division."

"Which unit?"

That took her aback, a slightly more natural response. "It was with Jasta-44 Zerberus."

"Zerberus, three-headed dog of Hades. Guardian of the gates of hell." The TSF pilot did not shift his gaze or even look back at her. "Were they happy to see you go?"

"Wha--no!" Burkhart blurted, a knee-jerk response. Elle felt the statement was even more insulting the way Todd spoke it so casually.

"Your response means yes."

Elle was not normally of a short temper, but this man infuriated her. I left Dover with good memories. Don't assume you know me.

"If the watchdogs of hell live way over there," Crane's matter-of fact voice chilled her spine. "Does that mean we're living in Hell right now?"

That's not a joke I can laugh at. Elle's knuckles balled up as she fought the urge to just punch Todd Crane in the face. Instead she walked back to the shed, red-faced. I can't stand this man.

"People tend to take the phrase 'go to hell' quite literally here. Maybe that's why they sent you."

Elle stopped, not knowing why the words hurt.

"You want a better world, a better one than this." Crane's voice was cold yet pleading in a manner befitting a machine. "The world doesn't like that. It doesn't like you for wanting that. That's why the BETA are here."

Burkhart forced herself to walk on, but emotions were starting to well up within. Feelings she had been able to hide since leaving Dover alone.

"You're the same as us." Crane's voice crept into her head. "You're the same as all of us."

The door closed, and Elle put a hand to her mouth. Barely, she stifled a saddened gasp.

"You don't belong with human beings."

[ServantOfPriss]

Originally Posted by wavehawk

- That's one way to get rid of Tank-class pretty fast...

Now I'm imagining Chirico using an A-10.