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dronebiscuitbat · 13 days ago

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Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 108)

People were beginning to pack, the launch scheduled in the next four days.

Truthfully, they had been. Bit by bit, trying to cram as much as they could into a single suitcase each… because that is how much the weight limit allowed. One small suitcase for every adult drone, tucked under their sleeping pods for the duration of the journey on Copper-9's only… and most uncomfortable, commercial space flight.

Honestly… Uzi didn't have a lot she wanted to take with her. Her laptop, yup, it would be the last thing packed away though as it was currently in use researching remedies and diagnosis for an extremely sick toddler with sudden and apparently vivid nightmares.

The parts to her railgun she'd never actually gotten fixed. She got busy and dead drone parts were an absolute biohazard now, so no power source, thankfully all the parts unassembled left plenty of room for everything else…

Which aside from some extra clothes… nothing else seemed all that important. Sure there were plenty of old sketchbooks or trinkets she could take, but… she wasn't attached to much of it.

And N was even worse. The only thing he packed aside from a spare set of clothes was a tiny unlabeled box that he told Uzi not to open until they touched down on Titanium-28. Which kinda made her want to snoop on what it was… but she restrained herself.

Or. More accurately. She was too busy with everything else to get the time to see what it was secretly.

Which left still. Plenty of room.

And so… all of Tera's toys were going to go with them. Even the stupid, red plastic lizard that now was half chewed into nothing. A bit like Guys hand.

Which filled it up a bit more, so… when it was time to leave, they would pack Bishops owl blanket.

Uzi stared at the finished creation that was “The Shuttle.”

Tera snuggled up in what was essentially a pouch next to her core, the sound and warmth seemingly the only thing keeping her calm enough to sleep and eat. She'd stick her head out sometimes, little purple eyelights peering out over the edge before they disappeared again.

She was… near silent now. Except for her cries in the middle of the night or soft, yet threating growls when anyone other then her mom, dad or little brother tried so much as even touch her.

Uzi walked through the big aluminum door that would seal them all in when the time came, after walking up the launch strut stairs, if there was one thing she didn't miss is the extra weight or exhaustion of growing a whole being…

But she was surprised to see a person already standing in the shuttle, walking slowly, looking at every panel, every pod, every device with… awe, maybe?

“Mom?”

Nori turned around with a shocked look on her face. “Uzi! What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be inside with the little ones?”

Tera poked her head out and hissed. Uzi couldn't see it, but her right eyelight flickered yellow for a breif moment.

“Ah.” Nori chuckled as Uzi smiled warily. “Thought getting her some fresh air might help.” Uzi explained, stroking her hand down the large pouch Tera was in, when Nori stepped closer, Tera balled herself up as close as possible to her moms core and refused to move.

“I wanted to come see your handiwork. Khan went on and on about it. Had to see it for myself up close.” The older woman smiled. “You got your brains from me, clearly.”

Uzi found her heart swelling just at the thought of her mother's pride, though it fell a moment later.

“I-If you were alive… even just as a core thing or whatever. Like you said, why didn't you come back?”

Nori seemed to flinch, as if not expecting or not liking the question, she paused for a moment.

“I was… looking for something.” She replied after a breif period of silence.

“What was it?”

…

“A patch. It's supposed to make the solver easier to control. No… surprise takeovers or… instincts that get too loud.” She explained. “I knew you had it, same as me. I wanted to give you an easier go… but after the rot started creeping in. I ran out of time.”

Uzi sighed. “It would have been easier if you were there…”

Nori looked at her, sadly. “I'm sure it would have been… that's where we're most similar I think though, once we get our minds set to something. We see it through…”

She gestures to the ship around them. “Point. This.” And she smiles. “I never would have thought about using the busted up old pods as parts to make an escape shuttle. I didn't think there would be enough of us left to pull something this size off, being honest.”

“It wasn't easy… there was a lot of people that started off too scared to help… but uh… I did accidentally announce I was pregnant during the pitch so-”

Nori near threw her head back in a laugh. “HAH! And then if they said no they'd feel like monsters… nice.”

Tera didn't like the laugh. She shuffled in her pouch.

“Kid doesn't like me.” Nori pointed out.

“Ah… no… I can't figure out why… she's loved almost everyone else, and then she got sick!”

“Hm.” Nori hummed, sliding her hand over one of the pods she was standing next to. “I kinda chalk that up with me not having my anti-virus be updated in… ten or so years. That's probably my bad.”

“Maybe….” Uzi huffed. She was frustrated and worried and confused because nothing was quite adding up even though the answer felt like it was right in front of her face- Ugh.

“Chin up. You do the best with the knowledge that you have.” Nori shrugged.

Uzi blinked.

“What did you just say?”

“Hm? You do the best with the knowledge that you have?”

She blinked again.

“Did you hear N say that or something?”

Nori blinked as well, and took a beat to respond. “Oh! Yes I did! That's where I got it from. Figured it might be comforting to hear his little saying or- whatever.” She waved her hand as if waving off the interaction.

Well… that was weird.

“I should head back and help your father pack… he's trying to fit all his tools into one suitcase. And it's not going to happen.”

She walked off, though as she went past Uzi Tera went mental in her pouch, shuffling and hissing though it's muffled behind the cloth.

“Alright. Calm down… shhhh my little bat.” She stroked the pouch again, hearing a sound off of different chirps and chatters that took a second to register…

She furrowed her brow. Thinking for a moment before she dailed up the audible frequency of her audials.

Squeak! “Danger!”

Chi! “Wrong!”

Prrap! “Away!”

Each sound that Tera made suddenly shifted into a much more understandable word, since when that was even a thing she didn't know… but Bishop was born doing it, and Tera had been rather early… how long has she been missing words because she was tuned to listen for the same audible frequencies as a human?

Uzi blinked as she looked back in the direction her mother had went. But she was already back within the bunker…

Consumed with curiosity, and a growing sense of anxiety. She unfurled her wings and flew to the tip of the shuttle, pointed upwards, ready to go.

The black and red spiderwebbing rot was everywhere. There was a fence that went around the outer perimeter of the bunker, and it was the only thing separating them from it, like it was somehow holding it back.

V had said it was getting close. But she surely didn't mean…

Her eyes hollowed as she looked out further, between the buildings that were bring consumed and drug underneath the decaying crust there was a great, shambling mass.

Hundreds, thousands of dead drones come back to life, tumbling over each other, crawling, if they had to, in a near march to them.

Some of them were attached to each other, the black tendrils growing into each other like a runaway fungus and conjoining them, dragging one across the ground as the other two carried on in lockstep.

It quite literally took her breath away. There were so many, from every side. Every disposed of drone that ever existed on Copper-9 converging onto one single point.

Them.

Next ->

#murder drones #oil is thicker then blood #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #tera doorman #n and uzi #lets start wrapping this up shall we?

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jpbradley · 2 years ago

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Which Primarchs committed tax fraud?

Lorgar claimed tax exempt status as a church. Cited a law from the Age of Strife, rejected after lengthy legal proceedings. Definitely did not instigate the Heresy to avoid paying his substantial fines.

Sanguinius filled his form wrong. He managed to charm the investigating officer into allowing him to resubmit, but failed to file on the ground that he was murdered by Horus. A small percentage of Blood Angels are, to this day, afflicted with anxiety over an unfiled return.

Roboute Guilliman 100% knows how to commit tax fraud, and how to get away with it. Of course he does. He's the tax man (Ultramar regional office). Hates Magnus for reasons we'll get to.

Jaghatai Khan neither knows nor cares what taxes are. The Imperial Revenue took years to track down his address, and after several final demands an investigator visited only to find a lone postbox 300 miles from anywhere, half buried in unopened mail.

Perturabo failed to declare assets 'inherited' from Ferrus Manus and is currently awaiting a trial date.

Ferrus Manus has been given dispensation to defer his return for the tax year on the following grounds:

Being dead.

Lion El'Johnson swears he knows how to commit tax fraud but simply never would. He's lying. He has no idea but would rather walk naked into the Warp than admit it.

Vulkan keeps fastidious notes through the year which makes him very popular with his accountants. They try to convince him to expense his Drakeskin cloaks but he refuses as he wears them recreationally (despite the Salamander's 'business logo') and doesn't want to get into trouble.

Fulgrim completed his return, he really did, but it wasn't right. Currently on his cogitator is 'Tax Return 3 FINAL (FINAL!!).tax' unsent.

Leman Russ vaguely understands that tax is a thing. Thus far nobody can decide if the Space Wolves mix of raucous hospitality and space Viking intimidation towards investigators is a concerted effort to avoid paying or if they're just like that.

Magnus has all the documentation to prove that he's paid. It's all right there. It makes absolutely no sense and somehow he's owed money? Guilliman is convinced he's full of it but hasn't been able to prove it and is quietly seething.

Rogal Dorn pays in full and fully hates anyone who doesn't. He grumbles about it to anyone who will listen, usually within earshot of anyone he suspects isn't paying his way. Magnus & Conrad vocally agree with him. Guilliman leaves the room before he says something he'll regret.

Alpharius definitely submitted a return. Nothing about it looks right, all the numbers are estimates, all the assets are in some kind of code but somehow it's already been stamped as accepted.

Konrad Curze also vocally hates anyone who doesn't pay up. Secretly he hasn't paid in years. He is beyond the pretty laws of 'taxes' and with everyone focused on Lorgar, Perturabo and Magnus he's just slipped through the cracks, which he has taken as a silent endorsement.

Corvus Corax wants to pay tax. He’s tried to pay tax. He’s sent several returns to the Imperial Revenue and still they haven’t taken the money. He’s beginning to get worried. He needn’t be. They have quite simply forgotten he exists and it's gone on too long for them to admit their mistake.

Mortarion pays but hates everything about it. He thinks it's a personal slight and is convinced he is paying more than everyone else. He's right. This makes his whining no less annoying.

Angron had taxes explained to him once and ol' Rusty's sacrifice is why Imperial Revenue officers can wear jeans on Fridays. Since then the IR has practiced a bold 'hands off' approach with the World Eaters, proving that violence is sometimes an answer.

Horus absolutely pays his taxes. In Horusbux: A currency of his own devising. Lorgar attempted to trick Horus into a ponzi scheme, now all of his money is in Horusbux and he has no idea how it happened. Horus keeps on promising everyone massive returns, usually from the deck of his waryacht, the Live Forever II.

#horus heresy #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #primarchs #imperium of man #wh40k #40k #warhammercommunity

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raw-lesbian-energy · 3 months ago

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The Promening

Summary: Prom arrives and everything goes wrong.

Fandom: Murder Drones (The Explorer Drone AU)

Pairing: Sera-V, mild Nuzi

Features: Self-Insert Character

Word Count: 7,058

Warnings: Mild cursing, murder, dismembered body parts, violence, brief cannibalism

A/N: Sentences between “{ }” brackets are in Russian (so whenever Doll is speaking lol)

—————————————————————

It had been three weeks since the incident with the eldritch snake-crab that had been J, and Uzi was still as gloomy as ever. At first, she had just been upset about N, but now prom was coming up, and the teen wanted to do anything but attend it.

She already knew her dad wouldn’t let her skip, even though she had made her hatred for the event clear. She refused to look at any dresses, avoided anyone on the committee, and tuned out any talk of the event. No one was going to ask her to go anyways; Thad would’ve been the only possibility, but he already had a date.

She was drawn from her angsty thoughts as her internal clock reminded her of the time, making her realize she was going to be late for school. As much as she wanted to just stay home, she knew her dad wouldn’t tolerate it, especially since she had missed a lot already from her time at the spire with N. The thought of him made her gaze wander up to the ceiling covered in papers, her eyes focusing on one particular sketch among them. It was a very badly drawn sketch of her and N, but Uzi could still tell effort had gone into it, which made guilt churn in her core. This guilt made itself heard as she let out a long groan, already sure this would be a very long day.

——————

Seraph idly tapped her pen against her cheek, her brows furrowed as she got lost in her own head. A lot of things had occurred over the week since she had talked to V, but what had most of her attention was the fact students had suddenly started going missing.

Of course her first instinct was to ask V, but she could tell the murder drone hadn’t been responsible, and N didn’t seem vicious enough to do it by himself. She decided to turn to the school’s security footage instead, but all cameras at the crime scenes had been scrambled, which left her with nothing to work with.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a frustrated groan, drawing her gaze over to where Uzi was sitting. The purple-haired drone was crumpling up a piece of paper, tossing it haphazardly at the recycling bin before grabbing for a new piece. Only after a few moments did she crumple that one as well, and Seraph noticed her pile of paper was quickly growing smaller. A frown crossed the teacher’s face at the sight, and she quietly got up from her desk, grabbing some more papers and walking over to her. She reached Uzi’s desk just as she was crumpling her last piece, her shadow drawing her attention up.

[You okay?] The text blipped onto Seraph’s visor, helping to avoid drawing the other student’s attention. Uzi’s scowl only deepened in response, her gaze turning away as she grumbled something the teacher couldn’t hear. Seraph decided not to push further, instead silently setting the papers down and retreating back to her desk. She could feel Uzi watching as she moved, only sparing her one last glance before sitting down and returning to her own work.

After what felt like forever, the final bell rang and the students quickly got up to clear out. Seraph calmly watched them go from her desk, though she kept her focus mostly on Uzi. The purple-haired drone had haphazardly thrown her papers between the pages of her notebook, trudging out of class with her head hanging low. The explorer drone made no movements to follow, instead focusing on cleaning up her own space first before stepping out of the classroom.

“Maybe I should have a talk with Khan about her…” she thought, turning to head back to her unit. As she began the walk, however, a psychotic-sounding laugh suddenly reached her audio receptors and she stopped, turning around to see Uzi pulling the missing persons flyers off the bulletin board down the hall. She promptly skipped away with them, still laughing, abandoning her books and backpack in the middle of the floor as she left.

“…Okay, yeah, that talk needs to happen now.” Seraph determined, quickly moving to grab Uzi’s discarded stuff. A few of the pages came loose as she picked up the teen’s books, revealing them to be covered in the strange symbol Seraph had seen on Uzi’s first project. She had no idea what the symbol meant, but she chose not to dwell on it as she finished packing Uzi’s things and headed for the Doorman unit.

She made a quick stop at her own unit to put away her belongings, but just as she re-emerged, she saw Lizzy and Doll walking away with an annoyed Uzi in tow. The sight alone made her both confused and concerned, and as soon as the three were out of earshot, she promptly went to the Doorman unit for answers.

Knock knock knock!

There was a few seconds of silence before the door slid open, and Seraph was greeted by a cheerful-looking Khan gazing up at her in surprise.

“Seraph!” He exclaimed, his chipper tone matching his expression. “I wasn’t expecting you. What can I do for you?” Seraph’s expression flashed with concern, but she promptly corrected to a more calm face.

“I’m here because I need to return Uzi’s belongings.” She stated, holding out Uzi’s bag. Khan’s eyebrows raised, and after a moment, he took the bag back from the brunette.

“Oh, thank you.” He said, though hesitation flashed across his screen. “Did she, uh, forget it in your class?”

“Actually, she left it out in the hall.” Seraph admitted, her concern showing more clearly now. “She had… abandoned it, to take the missing persons posters off of the bulletin board.” Khan’s brow furrowed at her words, his grip on the bag tightening somewhat. The action caused a stir of guilt in Seraph’s systems, and she let out a small sigh.

“Mr. Doorman,” she started again, “I feel like you and I need to have a talk about Uzi.” Khan met her gaze with a quizzical look, though Seraph could see the underlying worry in it.

“What about her?” He asked.

“Well,” Seraph took a breath, “Her behaviour compared to the other students is… concerning. She’s kept isolated, her classmates don’t treat her well, and if I try to ask, I’m met with very short and cold responses. All in all, I’m worried about her.” Khan blinked, and the same flash of worry passed over his expression, but he kept neutral.

“I see.” He replied. “Well, I did talk to her other teacher, and two of her classmates will be taking her to prom tonight. That should help her be more social!” He gained a hopeful smile as he spoke, while Seraph’s expression gained an edge of disbelief.

“You mean Lizzy and Doll?” She blurted. “They’re the two that bully Uzi the most.” Khan’s smile dropped at her response, and Seraph felt her guilt double almost immediately.

“Mr. Door-… Khan,” she tried, taking a gentler tone, “I want to help Uzi, and I’m sure you do too. But forcing her into things, and worse forcing her with people she does not get along with, is only going to hurt her.” Khan’s expression flickered with regret at her words, but he managed to steel himself, meeting her gaze once again.

“Well, if that’s the case, how about you come help chaperone the dance tonight?” He suggested. “That way we can both keep an eye on Uzi and make sure she has a good time! She honestly could use some better role models too…” his voice wound up trailing at the end, but his words made Seraph’s expression soften a bit.

“Well, I’ve been assigned as a chaperone anyway.” She admitted. “I just need to get my outfit on, but I’ll meet you there.” Khan perked up in response, and the gleam of hope on his screen helped ease Seraph’s guilt a bit.

“Sure, sounds good!” Khan said, sounding more excited. “I’ll see you there, then!” Seraph nodded and waved as she left, heading back to her own unit next door. Her outfit was already laid out on her bed, and she took a moment to look it over before taking her day clothes off to put it on. It slipped on her easily, and as she looked into the mirror to adjust her top hat, she couldn’t help but feel a small tug in her processors.

“I wish V could’ve come…”

Seraph froze, eyes hollow as she stared at her reflection. She quickly shook her head to clear the thought, as well as stop any others like it from forming.

“Come on Seraph, you know better than that.” She muttered. “V can’t come because she would cause a school-wide panic. The students’ safety comes first.” She glanced back at the mirror again, taking a breath to clear the small blush on her screen before fixing her hat one last time. Feeling as ready as she could be, she headed out of her unit, turning down the hall to head back to the school.

——————

Meanwhile, back at the pod, V was growing increasingly annoyed at N. His sulking had reached a whole new level, and it was taking all her willpower not to jump from her chair and chop his head off. But she still had him believing she was chained down, so she kept herself seated.

Her new plan was to have him to free her, and with Seraph having told her about the prom, she saw a perfect opportunity. Given his inability to catch enough to eat, she hoped that he might just be desperate enough to go along with it.

First step was to have him get them nice outfits, which he had done with surprising efficiency. A full black three-piece suit for himself, and a lovely strapless red dress for her. She had to admit, he had an eye for fashion. Now all she had to do was convince him.

“We can’t interact with the workers anymore, V.” N told her. “We’re too dangerous.”

The response made her eye glitch. She had hoped he would’ve been more compliant, but she wasn’t giving up easily.

“Uh, exactly.” She replied. “We show up, fabulous, the sad purple one lets us in- cause she has no friends- we kill everyone and pop her little head off.” She kept a casual and proud tone as she spoke, but N still remained unconvinced.

“I’m not freeing you for prom murder, V!” He argued, growing louder as he spoke. “J went holo-spooky snake crab, and we maybe grew up in a haunted mansion!” He stepped closer, grabbing the back of her chair and getting much too into her personal space for her liking.

“Aren’t you worried we have no idea what we even are?!” He near shouted. She was quick to shove him away, her chair spinning in the process and leaving her with her back facing him. The pod fell silent for a moment, and V felt an expression of worry cross her screen, her gaze shifting to the broken mirror on the wall. She remembered how it shattered when Uzi looked into it, how that cursed symbol had flashed on the worker’s screen and vanished again.

“Promise me you and that purple thing will stop prying into that stuff.” V spoke at last, her voice softer now. N didn’t reply, and through the fragments of the mirror, she could see a concerned look etched on his screen.

“If you free me now,” she tried instead, turning her chair back to face him, “I promise we’ll only kill what we need to survive. Just you and me, N.” N’s gaze flickered over to the key on the console, but he made no move for it, instead looking back at her.

“…What about Uzi?” He asked. V’s expression quickly shifted to annoyance.

“She’s a worker, N.” She replied, her tone growing stern. “We can’t bring her along.”

“And what about Seraph?”

V froze, her eyes turning hollow as a shot of panic rushed through her systems. N was looking right at her, his expression showing nothing but sadness and hurt.

“I heard you two talking the other day.” He spoke again. “Were you planning to leave her here too?” V hesitated, her gaze flicking away for a moment before she steeled herself.

“She doesn’t matter to me.” She lied, folding her arms. N’s saddened look deepened, though it now held an edge of sympathy.

“Are you sure?” He asked. V glared at him coldly.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She spat. Despite her harsh tone, N could see she wasn’t telling the whole truth. It wasn’t the usual anger he saw from her, her shifting gaze and tightly folded arms making her seem almost afraid.

“V…” he hesitated, trying to find his words, “…if you’re hiding something, we can figure it out together.” There was a somewhat hopeful tone in his voice, and V’s stern expression cracked slightly. A brief flicker of panic went across her screen, though N didn’t seem to notice.

“Even if we each only have pieces,” he continued, “please, what do you kno-”

His sentence was cut short as V swung her sword, slicing his head clean from his shoulders. His body stumbled and collapsed against the wall of the pod, and V stood before him, a mix of sadness and guilt on her screen.

“What’s best for you.” She replied. “Even if you hate me for it.” She gave him a quick salute in an attempt of respect, then grabbed the red dress and flew out of the pod hatch to head for the bunker. She knew N would be angry when he woke up, but she couldn’t let him stop her. This had to be done, one way or another.

——————

“Any sign of her yet?”

Khan and Seraph stood by the wall of the gym, looking out into the crowd of drones. Prom was in full swing, with many people chatting and dancing, but neither chaperone had seen Uzi yet.

“Nope, still no sign of her.” Seraph answered Khan, managing to keep her voice steady. Khan frowned, his gaze turning to the clock on the wall to check the time again. Seraph felt a pang of sympathy as she watched him, already having a feeling Uzi was skipping but not having the heart to say so.

“Hey, I’m sure she’s fine.” She tried reassuring him. “Maybe her dress tore and she’s just looking for a way to fix it.” Khan looked up at her, managing a small smile in thanks for her efforts, but all attention was quickly drawn as a spotlight was activated and Lizzy walked out on stage. The sight of her alone made Seraph’s concern for Uzi increase, but she kept quiet as Lizzy stepped up to the mic and grabbed it.

“Okay, listen up, nerds.” She spoke, her voice carrying through the gym speakers. “We’re doing this a little early, but since the entire prom court mysteriously disappeared, your queen by forfeit is, uh… this.” As soon as the words left her mouth, a figure landed behind her on stage, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Their body was obscured in the shadows, but there was no mistaking the haunting glow of their bright yellow LEDs.

Panic swept over the crowd, and Seraph felt time stop. The frantic cries of the students were muffled to her as she stared up at V, in a strapless red dress, poised and ready to kill. She only briefly looked away to see Khan, who also had a terrified expression, his body frozen as he watched the scene onstage.

“Easy, judgy-bots.” Lizzy’s voice cut over the crowd, drawing Seraph’s attention. “V’s my friend. She’s done with the murder or whatever, we’ve been hanging!” As she spoke, a projector screen rolled down from the ceiling, the projector displaying various photos and selfies of V and Lizzy. Seraph looked up at each of them as they flashed by, feeling a storm of emotions flood her processors. She still couldn’t bring herself to move either, watching as V walked up to the front of the stage.

“Yes, best friends.” She said, her voice carrying that same sadistic tone Seraph heard when they first met. “So easily manipulated~” Her psychotic laugh soon echoed through the gym, her claws switching out for guns when she suddenly froze.

“Prom queen?” She blurted. Everyone in the gym fell silent, and Lizzy managed an awkward smile in response. Another girl then stepped on stage with a crown, causing V’s expression to twist with embarrassment. Seraph felt her thoughts and emotions stop short, the realization that V was being crowned prom queen rendering her completely confused. Lizzy, however, was quick to regain composure, taking advantage of the silence.

“So, forgive and forget, or I’ll get my dad to dock your frickin’ grades!” She snapped. “And you can’t sit with us, Rebecca!” The blonde pointed into the crowd, the spotlight falling on another drone with blue hair and purple bangs. She was momentarily stunned by the sudden attention, but her expression soon turned angry.

“Fine, I forgive her!” She snapped back, folding her arms. “Settle.” This response prompted many of the other drones to relax, murmuring their agreements and even applauding for V.

“Clap harder, losers!” Lizzy shouted. The crowd quickly erupted with applause, cheering and chanting for V to give a speech. This was enough to snap Seraph out of her shock, and she soon started to move, weaving through the students to try and get to the stage.

V, who was still recovering from the awkward situation and the crown being placed on her head, was quick to notice Seraph in the crowd. Her core stuttered for a moment at the sight of her, guilt rushing her processors as she saw her expression. She retracted her wings and claws without thinking, a flash of fear for how she looked making her move to the front of the stage.

CRASH!

Everyone froze as the roof of the gym suddenly caved, with N and Uzi landing a few feet behind the crowd of students.

“Unhand them, you fieeee… eend?” Uzi’s bold tone soon turned uncertain as she stared at the crowd. “I’m confused.” Seraph also found herself confused, but in the moment of looking back, she noticed a flash of red out of the corner of her vision. She turned to see Doll standing there with a murderous grin, her hand poised strangely, and the symbol that the teacher had seen on Uzi’s drawings was glowing at her fingertips. Doll pointed her hand right at V, and that was all it took for Seraph to know that something horrible was about to happen.

“On second thought, you’re way hotter than Doll.” Lizzy suddenly blurted, panicking. “Run, idiot!” V hardly had time to process the words before Doll closed her hand into a fist, a wave of energy rushing through the crowd at the disassembler. Metal bars shot out from underneath the stage, two piercing through V’s arms and another through her left leg.

At this, panic ensued.

Drones began screaming and running, scrambling in every direction to escape the new threat. The gym doors locked, trapping everyone inside. V struggled to escape the bars, sounds becoming muffled as panic took hold. Lizzy was tossed like she was nothing. The other drone’s neck was snapped, her body crushed into oil. Everything was happening so fast, and she was helpless to stop it.

“{Hello, V.}”

The voice cut through the fog like a blade, and V’s gaze snapped forward to see the worker responsible. Doll glared at her with nothing but hatred, and before V could speak, a wave of pain overtook her as memories from someone else were forced into her vision. A small droneling hiding in a cabinet, watching as V herself caught and killed two adult drones, laughing maniacally. The memories vanished as quickly as they came, but it was all V needed to realize why this drone was out to kill her.

“{Anyway, you get it.}” Doll said, her right eye glitching from normal back into the symbol. Another metal bar stabbed through V’s stomach, causing her to choke as oil spurt from her lips. Seraph’s eyes hollowed at the sight, and without even thinking, she rushed forward and grabbed at Doll’s arm.

“Doll, that’s enough!” She tried, though her voice was far more panicked than she wanted it to be. “Please, this won’t solve anything!” The symbol disappeared as Doll focused her attention on the taller drone, her expression looking scarily bored.

“{Seraph. The one teacher to actually care.}” She said, her calm voice even scarier. “{This is not something that concerns you. Please, do not interfere.}” Before she could respond, Doll’s hand once again lit up with that symbol, and Seraph felt an invisible force grip around her waist. With shocking strength, the brunette was thrown backwards, slamming into the gym wall with a choked cry. The sound of groaning metal followed, and by the time Seraph could focus again, she had been pinned against the wall by twisted metal beams.

Horror flooded V’s systems at the sight, but it was instantly replaced by rage. With a growl, she wrenched her right arm free, switching her hand for a gun and firing right at Doll. The navy-haired drone hardly blinked. Her eye flickered, the bullets bouncing off a force field. With a flourish of her hand, a large kitchen knife appeared, launching forward and slicing V’s free arm clean off. V gasped in pain as her arm went flying, everyone else watching from the sidelines in horror, including Uzi and N.

“Holy crap, what is she doing?” Uzi blurted, turning to N.

“This isn’t what I expected at all!” N replied frantically. There was a beat of hesitance afterwards, but he spoke again, “I guess we should, uh….” he trailed off, but his intention was easy to read. Uzi let out a groan in response, but didn’t argue. Meanwhile, Doll had used her powers to tear down a ceiling fan, altering the blades to become jagged and sharper. With a flick of her wrist, the fan shot off, flying straight for V’s head.

V felt time slow as she watched the blade rush at her, her gaze turning away for only a second to see a pair of panicked violet eyes on the wall, watching helplessly.

“Seraph…” the name sent a wave of fear through her systems, “…if I die here, what happens to-?”

She couldn’t finish the thought as there was a sudden flash of motion, and N kicked the deadly fan off course. It wound up embedded in the ceiling behind them, and Uzi leapt out from behind V, kicking the knife from earlier right back at Doll. The red-eyed drone deflected it easily, and after a second, the symbol from her eye appeared on the locked gym door. The trapped students were quick to realize and rushed out, shoving Khan along with them as they made their escape. The older drone didn’t run though, instead watching the stage from the hall with a worried expression.

“{Uzi, you would really side with the Murder Drones?}” Doll spoke, a tone of betrayal in her voice. “{I’m not the only one who’s lost family to them.}” This statement caught both N and V by surprise, their focus quickly shifting over to Uzi.

“Bite me!” Uzi shot back. “Whoever started this wants us to fight! I’m not dealing with anything well, but…” she hesitated, her voice softening, “…I’m done dealing with everything alone.” Her gaze turned over to N, a small smile crossing her face as she met his eyes. N returned the smile, still looking mildly concerned, while V’s gaze once again flickered to the blip of purple light in the shadows against the gym wall.

“We move forward together, or not at all.” Uzi’s voice drew V’s attention again, a frown on her face as she looked over at the purple-haired drone. Doll, however, looked unamused.

“{Cute,}” she said, her tone soon turning annoyed, “{but I don’t need help.}” Her eye once again switched back to what Uzi recognized as the Solver symbol, and another metal beam erupted from the stage, stabbing through N’s leg. Using the opportunity, Doll tore two more ceiling fans down, launching them forward at high speeds. In a split second, Uzi was shoved aside, saving her as the blades sliced N and V to pieces.

“NO!” Seraph’s sudden scream was heard over the music, drawing Doll’s attention to her. The two drones made eye contact, and Doll’s cold stare caused Seraph’s core to freeze in pure terror. Doll reached into a back pocket in her dress and pulled out another knife, the older drone unable to look away as she raised it up…

…and was thrown off as a chair raced by her head.

Doll quickly turned her gaze, now glaring at Uzi from across the gym. The red-eyed drone took the opportunity to lock the gym doors again, ultimately locking Khan out of the gym as well. Seraph was hit with a flood of emotions as she looked down on the scene, feeling relief at not dying but concern for Uzi and fear for V. She couldn’t see either of the disassemblers now, just the pipes from earlier and a splatter of oil leading backstage.

Uzi, meanwhile, stood completely open in the centre of the gym, and Doll’s knife was now pointed at her. She had nothing within reach to defend herself, having already thrown the nearest chair, so when the knife was thrown right at her, she reacted on instinct. She held out one hand and winced as the blade pierced it, but was quick to recover, pulling it out and approaching Doll. Doll’s expression briefly flashed with surprise at Uzi’s move, but she didn’t let it stop her, readying her solver to use on Uzi directly.

--// ERROR: absoluteSolver_trn [like object non-interactive]

The note on her screen made Doll freeze, panic appearing on her face before she turned angry and pulled a third knife. She once again threw it at Uzi, but this time, Uzi merely deflected it and kept walking. Doll couldn’t mask her panic anymore, slowly backing away as she realized this fight had just gotten a lot more complicated.

Meanwhile, hidden behind the curtains backstage, N and V were working to piece themselves back together again. A severed arm slowly crawled towards them, prompting N to pick it up and look it over.

“Is this-?”

“Mine!” V snatched it from him before he could finish, holding the arm in her teeth. An angry scowl donned her screen, and N felt a mix of frustration and sympathy.

“Ew.”

Both drones looked up at the sudden voice, seeing Lizzy standing nearby. She was surprisingly unhurt despite having been thrown, and a mildly disgusted look sat on her screen.

“You look like garbage.” She told them.

“You freakin’ traitor!” V spat, her voice muffled by the arm still held in her teeth. Lizzy gave her an annoyed look, snatching the arm from her mouth.

“As if you weren’t using me to try and kill everyone, Ms. Petty.” She retorted, her gaze turning to the severed arm. “Where does this freaking go?” V held an angered glare, while N attempted to be friendly.

“Thank you, Lizzy!” He chirped.

“Shut up, loser.” Lizzy and V replied in sync. N quickly slumped back against the wall, silently hoping Uzi was at least doing okay.

From up on the wall, Seraph watched the fight anxiously, her eyes darting between Doll and Uzi. A stray knife stabbed into the light controls, causing the gym to become lit up in flashing rainbow colours. Doll grabbed the knife with her solver and threw it. Uzi flipped to dodge it. She landed back on stage, stopping the knife with her boot and kicking a microphone stand at Doll. Doll caught it with her solver, holding it before launching it back at Uzi and pinning her down.

“Crap!” Seraph managed to keep herself from shouting this time, but her panic had increased tenfold. Doll was duplicating knives now, and had several of them all pointed at Uzi still stuck to the floor. Seraph struggled hard, but the metal beams refused to budge, so she came up with a desperate plan and tried to copy the hand symbol Doll was doing.

“Maybe it’s an underlying code…” she flicked her hand as much as she could, but there was no glow, and no moving of metal to be heard. She quickly gave up, knowing it was no use, leaving her to watch helplessly as Doll went for the kill. Just as the knives were about to hit, a blur shot in front and the knives ricocheted off of N’s outstretched wing. Seraph’s eyes widened in shock, since the last she saw him Doll had dismembered him.

“Quit saving me!” The brunette could hear Uzi’s shout even from where she was, watching as N helped her to her feet before suddenly twirling her. Their movements quickly became a mix of a dance and an attack, moving together to counter against Doll and blasting her back with an explosion. The force shook the room and Seraph, a cloud of smoke briefly blocking her view as the fight below continued on. She could hear the sound of things being thrown, but it wasn’t until the smoke cleared that she saw Uzi kick Doll square in the face.

Doll was sent sprawling from the hit, the lights finally settling back to normal as Uzi landed and readied for another attack. Doll didn’t stay down long, getting back on her feet and readying her hand, pointing the solver symbol at Uzi once more.

BANG!

The shot echoed through the gym as Doll suddenly staggered, oil spraying from a large crack in her screen. Her eyes flickered before she collapsed, and behind her stood V, her right hand swapped for a gun and a piercing glare on her screen. Uzi, who had flinched from the shot, quickly met V’s gaze with a glare of her own.

“V! We-” Uzi hardly got to speak as V suddenly turned, unfurling her wings and flying up to the side wall. Seraph flinched at V’s sudden approach, eyes wide in surprise as the disassembler swapped her hand for a tool she didn’t recognize.

“Hold still.” Was all V said, and Seraph tensed as a loud hum started from the device and a yellow laser shot out. It sliced through the metal beams like they were nothing, soon falling away and freeing Seraph from their hold. The explorer didn’t even have time to fall as V grabbed her, holding her with a gentleness Seraph did not expect and flying her back down to the gym floor.

“I-I, uh… thanks.” She managed, before letting out a yelp as V smacked her upside the head.

“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.” She scolded. “She could’ve killed you!”

“Wh- me?!” Seraph exclaimed in a mix of surprise and offence. “I thought she had killed you! I saw you and N get sliced to pieces right on stage!”

“Please, I’ve survived worse.” V folded her arms, brushing off Seraph’s concern. “You, on the other hand-”

“A-hem!”

Both drones stopped arguing at the sound, turning to see Uzi and N staring at them. Uzi looked very annoyed while N looked surprised, and the realization that they’d heard everything made both Seraph and V look away.

“As I was saying,” Uzi continued, clearly frustrated, “we needed Doll alive for answers, V!”

“What?” V replied in annoyance. “She’s fine! Ah…” her expression changed as she looked down at Doll, seeing her lying still in a large puddle of oil.

“A little tuckered out…” V muttered, now mildly embarrassed. Seraph couldn’t take her eyes off Doll’s body, a mix of horror and sympathy swirling in her processors.

“V did that on purpose!” N suddenly exclaimed, snapping Seraph from her daze. “She’s hiding mystery stuff and being overdramatic about it!” V’s expression immediately turned angry.

“N, you suck!” She snapped.

“Both of you, shut it!” Uzi shouted, drawing all eyes to her. She glared the disassemblers down before her her gaze turned to an object on the floor. She knelt down to pick it up, finding it was Doll’s bracelet with a strange tag and a unit key attached.

“Lucky for you, we’re not done yet.” She spoke again, standing and holding up the bracelet. Seraph felt her concern rise, glancing over at Doll’s body, but chose to say nothing and merely followed as Uzi, N, and V walked out of the gym. Khan was waiting anxiously on the other side, his face lighting up when Uzi walked through the doors.

“Uzi!” He exclaimed, rushing over. “What happened in there? Are you-”

“I’m fine, dad.” Uzi interrupted him, annoyed. “We handled it.” Khan froze at his daughter’s words, his expression saddening as he stood there, unsure what to say. Seraph felt a wave of sympathy for him, walking over to put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s good of you to care, Khan.” She told him, giving him a small smile. Khan’s sadness faded slightly at the reassurance, and he gave a small nod in response. His gaze turned back to Uzi after a second, and Seraph looked over to see annoyance, but also a mild twinge of guilt on the teen’s face.

“Uzi, maybe you should go back with your dad.” She suggested. “It’s been a long night-”

“No way.” Uzi cut her off, masking her guilt as she folded her arms. “I’m finding out what the hell was going on at Doll’s place, with or without you.” Seraph gave her a harsh look, but much to her surprise, Khan stepped in between them.

“It’s alright, she can go.” He said. “Just keep an eye on her for me, will you?” Seraph met the older drone’s eyes with worry, but Khan only smiled, giving her a small, sincere nod.

“Alright, if you insist.” Seraph relented at last. “I’ll bring her home myself later, okay?” Khan nodded again, his smile widening slightly as his gaze turned back to Uzi. Her annoyed expression faltered, guilt reappearing as she shifted her gaze away, but neither said anything as Khan turned and started the walk back to his unit. All four drones watched him go, and Uzi felt guilt stirring in her core before she shook her head to refocus.

“Come on, we have a unit to check out.” She said, starting off down another hall. N, V, and Seraph followed silently, with N and Seraph looking wary while V kept a bored expression. Soon enough they reached Doll’s unit, and a strong tar-like smell could be detected seeping out from under the door. Seraph recoiled slightly at it, but said nothing as Uzi used the key from Doll’s bracelet to unlock and open the door. It slid aside with a soft hiss, and the scent increased tenfold as the group stepped into the pitch dark unit. N soon found the light switch and turned it on, and all four drones looked at the kitchen with shock and horror.

The kitchen was covered with worker drone bodies, oil stained all over the floor and appliances. Scattered parts hung from hooks or were thrown in pots, with one arm laid out on a cutting board, and the upper half of one drone could be seen stuffed into a top cabinet. ‘FATAL ERROR’ shone in bold red letters on their visor, and both Seraph and Uzi felt a chill at the sight. The sound of metal clinking made both of them freeze, but their fear quickly vanished as they looked over to see V idly chewing on a dismembered arm.

“Ugh, self respect!” Uzi scolded, pulling the arm out of the murder drones’ mouth. V gave her an annoyed look before licking residual oil from off her hand in a fashion much like a cat would. Seraph watched the murder drone with a mix of concern and confusion, but promptly shook it off and silently headed further into the unit. She chose to check down the hall first, opening the door to the bathroom and finding the blood-filled tub and stack of mirrors leading up to the ceiling vent.

“…Well, that leaves more questions than answers.” She muttered. She looked back over as N pulled a sheet off of something at the dining table, revealing two more drone corpses that had been sat in dining chairs. Each of them had a bullet hole clean through their visor, their bodies posed in fear, and Seraph was quick to notice one of them had hair the exact same colour as Doll.

“I… think we found her folks.” N said quietly. Both V and Seraph walked over to look, though V seemed rather unbothered.

“Literally didn’t even taste that good.” She said casually, picking her teeth with one claw. N’s gaze fell on her, a mix of concern and disgust on his face.

“V, you kinda suck.” He told her. V only laughed, picking up one of the roaches with her claws.

“Yeah, I’m not doing okay.” She replied, eating the robotic insect. Her smile faltered as she felt eyes on her, and glancing over, she saw Seraph looking at her with nothing but worry. A sudden rush of guilt flooded V’s systems and she forced her gaze away, turning instead to watch as N helped Uzi climb over the kitchen counter to join them.

The purple-haired drone warily approached the two bodies, noticing a lanyard around the neck of who she could only assume had been Doll’s mother. With careful hands she lifted the name tag, showing a photo of the same drone when she was alive, accompanied by the number 048 and the name ‘Yeva.’ The bright red eyes in the photo only confirmed that the woman had been Doll’s mother, and Uzi couldn’t help but feel a twinge of empathy for her classmate.

A strange, quiet noise suddenly reached Uzi’s audio receptors, drawing her attention from the name tag. Her eyes widened in horror as she looked up to see Doll at the other end of the table, completely healed, and using her solver to point a bullet right at her.

“{Just in time for dinner.}”

BANG!

The sound of the shot faded, but no collision followed. Instead, the bullet had been caught, by Uzi, with her own solver power. All eyes were focused on Uzi now, each of them displaying fear, but Doll’s expression also showed sympathy.

“{I… I’m sorry for you…}” she managed, a genuine tone of worry in her voice. Uzi hardly heard her, still staring at the bullet frozen in front of her. Her solver soon deactivated and the bullet shot, swerving around her head and piercing through the glass of the window behind her. All eyes had followed it, but soon refocused on Doll, who was giving Uzi a saddened look.

“{If I find what I’m looking for,}” she said, “{I’ll help you too.}”

“What?” Uzi blurted, now even more scared than before. Doll didn’t explain further, her body starting to glitch and fade like she was a hologram.

“{I am sorry.}” She told her.

“Wait! Oh, don’t you dare!” Uzi shouted, but Doll was already disappearing. V leapt into the air and launched a rocket at the navy-haired drone. The explosion clouded the room in smoke, but as it cleared, there was no sign of Doll anywhere. Uzi let out a loud groan of frustration, tossing her head back and her arms up as she shouted.

“I hate it here!”

——————

Meanwhile, outside the bunker, the wind howled as a single worker drone made his way through the city. He scanned up and down the ruined streets, stopping only when he noticed something familiar sticking out of a pile of snow. Kneeling down, he brushed it aside to reveal the object, soon finding a pair of circular-shaped glasses.

“Oh, that’s where I left my excuse to be outside right now.” He said, straightening up and putting on the glasses. His vision became clear with the help of the lenses, and he turned his gaze up just in time to see something hurtling out of the sky right at him. He barely managed to dodge it as it crashed, part of it exploding and sending debris flying. The worker shouted at what he now realized was a landing pod, scrambling to his feet to make a run for it, but a second pod immediately crashed down in front of him and cut him off. He cowered as it exploded too, surrounding him in a ring of fire and debris, the flames roaring and crackling in the harsh wind.

A moment of silence passed after, but as the worker raised his head up, he heard more noise and saw a third pod coming down from the sky. This one didn’t crash, however, instead using its strange legs to slide down the sides of the buildings and land neatly in the street. The door of the pod opened a second later and a figure leapt out, brandishing a sword as they landed, reeled back, and sliced the worker’s head clean off.

His head flew in a high arc, oil trailing behind as it landed and rolled in the snow, his glasses landing on his face a second later. The attacker let the oil drip off of their sword, the light of the fire glinting off of the blade and illuminating them, revealing them to be human. A space helmet obscured their face, but a baseball cap and a bow sat on top, and a name tag was pinned to their suit with the name ‘Tessa’ engraved in it, along with the title ‘Certified Technician.’

“Righty-o, work to do.” Tessa spoke, sheathing her sword. “Eh, J?” At the call of her name, the disassembler emerged from the ship, flying over and hovering next to Tessa. She tossed a set of keys to her that the human caught easily, hitting a button on a remote and locking the pod behind them.

“Maintenance work.”

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daydreaming-robot · 6 months ago

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My thoughts for the Murder Drones Series Finale

MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT

I'm gonna start this here with being honest about the runtime. It's short, that's all. I was thinking that it would be almost 40 or 30 minutes because it's a series finale. But having it about 20 minutes isn't something new(from my experience)

The reunion with Uzi and Nori was short, but needed, with Uzi having a chat with her mom in the silent scenery of space. And the way to beat the Solver is to permanently separate the solver from it's host by taking out the core and destroying it. Only for N to accidentally hit her with the landing pod.

Nuzi is canon. I'll be honest, I'm not much of a Nuzi shipper, that's all. But seeing the two admit their love to each other and hug each other while descending into the planet while on fire is honestly beautiful. Also I love their logic; save the world first, do all the corny awkward robotic dating later

V IS BAAAAAAAAAACK MOTHERFUCKERS. Throughout the series, I started off disliking V. But as the series progressed I started to appreciate her character development. And I felt heartbroken upon seeing her supposed death on episode 6. So upon seeing V throw hands with J, I SCREAMED my lungs off seeing her again. And I like that she has a pet sentinel now

J admits that she was also tricked by the Solver was surprising, but still worked with it. Why tho. Her loyalty eventually became her downfall after losing to her former teammates

Uzi has her own singularity bomb(that's what I call the [NULL] thing)

If there's one thing I love the series for, it's the horror. I'll explain in a separate post lol

THE FIGHT SCENE OMG THE TEAM AT GLITCH IS COOKING IN THE KITCHEN. The nightcore music as Uzi and Cyn fought is something I laughed at cuz it reminded me of my childhood watching Creepypasta AMVs with nightcore music in the bg. It's not something bad but it gave me a nostalgic punch in face

"Nobody traumatizes these weirdly hot robots but me!" bi Uzi bi Uzi bi Uzi bi Uzi

The defeat of the host Cyn imo is very satisfying. Uzi destroying the outer shell of the core to reveal the singularity is a clean transition. But then a monochromatic singularity formed between the two as Cyn tries to get it back in her body in order to survive. And Uzi's quick thinking was to... eat it. It worked for a bit because Cyn LITERALLY MELTED IN FRONT OF UZI. But it caused her to pass out as her body cannot handle two cores in one body for a brief moment

Uzi now has a yellow and purple ombre eye color after she has fused with the Absolute Solver

I like how Khan had a feeling that's still Nori after she scrambled off, which make sense considered she was pronounced dead up until episode 7

Her saying that she's now a "Damaged OC" is hilarious and personally call out to all artists and writers because we gave our oc traumatic events character development that they're traumatized in the end lmao

I love how the teacher, throughout the entire series gave zero fucks about what's going on around him

I love in the ending scene is a parallel to the pilot episode with her giving off a presentation to her class. The difference being that N and V are now attending the class and her parents being at the door supporting her

I love how N is improving on his artwork, with V being supportive

Uzi flexing her newfound power to scare the shit outta her class mates is a classic parallel to her showing off her railgun in the pilot, never get old Uzi, never get old

The post credit scene, with Uzi glitching out and the Solver talking to her gives off the feeling that Uzi isn't safe yet. Especially with the look on Uzi's face throughout the scene, she looks exhausted, and she looks like she isn't all there at the same time

Anyway that's my thoughts on the Series Finale of Murder Drones. It was a rollercoaster all throughout

#my thoughts #murder drones #murder drones uzi #n murder drones #v murder drones #cyn murder drones #khan murder drones #murder drones nori #murder drones spoilers #md episode 8 #murder drones episode 8 #murder drones finale #series finale #glitch #glitch productions

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aditublog · 1 month ago

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The Axe

The entrance door burst open, bringing a gush of bright sunlight, cool air and a swirl of dust from outside. In addition to Axe, the Mogul Khan, who had been gone for the day and had obviously just returned. He had been out to glory in carnage and to annihilate his enemies. While Disruptor, the Stormcrafter, often participated in these adventures, this time he had chosen to stay at home and instead prepare dinner. And tidy their house. Repair their armour and meditate to cultivate his magical powers.

Axe tramped into the room, threw the door shut behind him forcefully and, as he passed the wide table on his way to the bedroom, dropped his double-axe on it. It hit the wooden surface with a loud clonk, blood dripping from the sharp blades.

It was longer than the table, the shaft hanging over the edge, and nearly as wide as the table.

Disruptor blinked at the axe in front of him, blocking almost the whole work surface where he had been cutting up meat. It was an annoying habit of the Mogul Khan, to drop his weapon wherever, without cleaning it first. Oh, he’d see to it later, he wasn’t careless, but when he came back from one of his trips, he was usually occupied with whatever. Certainly not his weapon.

The Stormcrafter frowned, then called after his mate. “Axe!” There was enough accusation in his tone that Axe had to know what he wanted.

And really, the Khan turned and when he looked at Disrupter, his mouth formed a silent ‘oh’. “Sorry.”

With heavy footsteps, he came back, but instead of taking the weapon, he rounded the table and stopped next to Disrupter. The Khan towered over the Stormcrafter. That was normal, even when standing Disruptor was shorter (and less bulky) but when sitting, the difference in their figure was more prominent. Disruptor wasn’t small, or weak, Axe was simply a tank. Built to fight, built to conquer, pure muscles and strength.

The weapon he carried weighed more than some creatures did and still he wielded it with ease.

Raising both hands, Axe framed Disruptors face. His armoured gloves were cool and hard, definitely uncomfortable against Disruptor’s cheeks, but before the Stormcrafter could do more than deepen his frown, Axe leaned down.

He pressed his lips against Disruptor’s, a stark contrast to the gloves, his lips warm and soft. The kiss was a contrast to all of the Khan, because it was so very tender while the Khan didn’t look as if he knew what that word meant. Yet, when he was with Disruptor, he found this tenderness catching him.

For a few moments, Axe lingered, just enough for Disruptor to close his eyes and start to savour the sweet kiss, then Axe straightened and pulled his hands away. The hint of a smile curved his lips. “Hello. Axe is back.”

Then he tramped away, heading towards the bedroom as he had done a minute ago, leaving his axe lying on the table.

Disruptor stared after his partner, silenced by the affectionate gesture. From the moment the door had opened, he hadn’t moved, his hand stilled mid-cut, hovering over the meat. Now he sighed and laid the knife down.

Yes, it was nice to be greeted in such a way, but it wasn’t what he had meant. The axe still dripped blood and it still blocked the space Disrupter needed. With another sigh, and a small smile (because the kiss had been nice and this was simply typical Axe), he got up and took the weapon. He hung it on the rack specially built for it, next to his hammer, then got a rag to wipe the table.

Aware that Axe didn’t act this carelessly to annoy him, Disruptor invested the minute it took to clean the mess up, then continued to prepare dinner.

And when the Khan returned, the few pieces or armour he usually carried taken off and the blood that had probably been splattered over his body (which Disruptor hadn’t seen, since it was the almost exact colour of Axe’s skin) washed off, he did notice the double-axe being stowed in the weapons rack.

“Thank you.” And for his trouble, Disruptor got another kiss. This time, rough hands framed his face, the skin almost as hard as the armoured gloves, but warm. The kiss was just as tender as the one before, and Axe stroked his thumbs over Disruptor’s cheeks once, before he straightened. He grabbed a stool and dropped onto it, next to the Stormcrafter. “How was your day?”

Really, Disruptor thought as he looked at his partner. He couldn’t be mad at him just because he tended to place his weapon on the table. It was too insignificant. Well, when Disruptor had called him back, Axe had thought it was because he had forgotten to give him a kiss as greeting, and wasn’t that adorable?

#dota #dota2 #dota 2 #secret santa #axe #disruptor #myfanfic #dota secret santa #fanfic

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meirimerens · 1 year ago

Note

what give you the most inspiration for your art and writing ?

had replied to something of the sort [right there] (which i needed 20 minutes to hunt down because tumblr hates my whimsy) reiterating + updating it goes

other art & writing. quite frankly. visual art mostly (because i do. visual arts) but i also fw conceptual art so it's always in the back of my mind even if it is not particularly Visible in what i post on here.

Sergei Parajanov’s The Color Of Pomegranates (Sayat-Nova): composition, shapes, landscapes, bodies in relation to space, geometry

Solange Knopff’s artworks: composition, organic and dreamlike patterns, plant life, faces, colors, oniric landscapes, creatures

Ernst Haeckel’s artworks: organic patterns, repetition, geometry, physicality of shapes

Hilma af Klint’s artworks: well i say “artworks” but frankly her whole life, she’s such a fascinating artist and such a pioneer, but also, compositions, patterns, empyreal abstraction, colors, geometry

Agnès Pelton’s artworks: colors, shapes, beautiful blending works, dreamlike landscapes, eeriness, ghostliness

Victoria Reynolds’s artworks: meat. lol. so: colors, shapes, organic patterns, bodies, bodies in relation to body/ies, bodies in relation to space

Louise Bourgeois’s works in general but her etchings/drawings/nonscultpural works in particular: simplification, color, shapes

Kiki Smith; nothing but pure bangers on her ngl i did my bachelor’s thesis on her Rapture but mostly: shapes, bodies, bodies in relation to space, colors

parietal art bro just thinking of it cry shake throw up

silent hill: themes, colors, landscapes, interiors

Marjorie Cameron's works: she was um. an interesting woman. i'm mostly interested in her ink drawings, crisp flowing lines, body(-)shape(s), and the relation between her art & the otherworldly

Jeanie Tomaneck's artworks: textural experience of the art piece, contrasts, colors, compositions, shapes and forms.

literary:

some of Monique Wittig’s writing: bodies, bodies in relation to body/ies, bodies in relation to space

automatic writing as it was practiced by the Surrealists, and Surrealists’ works in general.

Anne Waldman's Jaguar Harmonics: again, this sort of automatic, this sort of transcendence, possesion

Hélène Cixous' Anankè: the rhythm, the sonorities, the flow of sentences

Anne Carson's works, mostly Eros the Bittersweet and her translation work for An Oresteia: for the former, it is more about the themes, about the conceptualization of the theme(s); it has opened my mind to different ways of relating to text and has put my mind on new tracks to think about themes & how themes are explored differently. for the latter, it is about the spoken word, the translated word, the presence of layers. it also has gotten me more interested in greek tragedies and as such in a relation between an audience, characters, and a chorus of characters, as well as the existence of gods/otherworldly beings as fundamental to the narrative, turning the gears of fate.

related to above, and it has been that way for a while because The Illiad was one of the first books my dad ever read me when i was like 5 lol but is inspiring me more Now as i pull on mytholofical symbols & threads in my writing, but Mythology in general, & greek one in particular.

general:

music and songs ngl. a number of my pieces come to me because i heard a banging song and i thot I Gotta Draw About It.

landscapes. like IRL. they’re alive to me they have beautiful white stone teeth and sprawling karstic spines… this belief in their inherent life works so well for pathologic appreciation and fanart in particular and Art in general. so. :3

tldr brain full but you wouldn't know that when i draw khan and notkin sending despicable vibes at each other because they've never sat down to discuss where they stood now that the world they once knew had ended.

#thank you for quastion <3 #ref #<- for me. & also because if i lose it again. well i'll lose it. again.#allô (answers)#anonymous

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the-trinket-witch · 1 year ago

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Yandere!OC Headcanons (TWST Edition)

So I may be not finding it in my orbit, but for a thought exercise I wanted to explore the toxic sides of my OCs. Thought it would be an interesting character exploration. So I figured I’d try to write headcanons for if any of my OCs went off the Yandere Deep End. (NOTE: I shouldn’t have to but apparently need to preface that writing this is not me condoning said behavior or idealizing it. If you recognize patterns like this in people in your real life, I cannot advise one way or another what you do with that information.) (divider by @/saradika)

Eugenio Hernandez (Yuu):

To preface, Yuu is Ace, but not Aro. Most likely they would be the Toxic bud ya keep around cause their life sounds awful. Nobody wants to be somebody’s 13th reason; you don't wanna add to the pile of 'shit going wrong in their life'/'be another one of those people that leaves'. But when they blow their top, it’s explosive. But even then, they’d still have a ways to go before ever attempting to lay a hand on you. No, they’d rather rant and rave and exhaust themselves with how shit of a hand the world has dealt them. Once they’ve let off steam, they’re all mumbled apologies and cooking dinner to make up for it.

Tidus Rhin:

His yandere extreme would turn him into The Love-B52. His size would be enough to intimidate any into not leaving his smothering, even if he never gives any indication he'd act with it. He'd prefer acting like a kicked puppy at the prospect of you needing space. Don’t you see, though? He’s utterly fascinated with you, adores you, it’s almost fetishistic. The more you pull away, the more he’s going to try lavishing you in any ways he can think of. If that doesn’t dissuade you, maybe if you just take this potion to come under the sea with him and meet his family…Just check first if the potion is permanent or temporary.

Lázaro Muertinez:

This man loves to talk. He loves to serenade you and talk you up just as you do for his music career. But you’d need to be able to pick up and leave at a moment’s notice-fame is something to chase and it doesn’t wait. What are your reservations against coming with him? It doesn’t matter, he’ll find a way around it, for you of course. If you stick to your guns, though, Laz is the yandere that knows how to orchestrate an oh so convenient health scare. If that doesn't dissuade from leaving his side, then comes the silent treatment. He'll completely drop off the planet. No posts on social media, not returning calls, nothing. For a second the idea he might have done something drastic is exactly what he'd be counting on.

Aadesh Sona:

This snake’s AroAce, but he isn’t above doing most anything to advance his goals. Gaslight, gatekeep, ghost-mode. He’s a psych major, so he knows how to twist his words and drop tidbits of info to confuse and trap you. He’s not being manipulative, you are for daring to get away. But he’ll be able to see the writing on the wall. He’ll back off. Prey is more difficult to catch when it struggles, anyway. And like an actual python, he will have everything poised for when you are in the prime position to strike. What will he do when he gets you back? Well, you and he will just have to sleep on it.

Rajesh Khan:

As far as yanderes go, He’s the only TWST OC of mine who isn’t above using physical means of keeping a potential partner in line. It’s only reserved, though, for when money can’t buy your happiness and obedience. It’s with that same money that makes him nigh untouchable in court, should you try bringing his aggression to light. It’s both money, and the friends in equally high places that make escape from the tiger’s jaws almost impossible.

Albert Eastwind:

Can one blame him for being the controlling type? Similar to how people headcanon Yan!Jade and Azul, He'll provide everything you need or want. Why would you want to leave? Oh don't say he's smothering, he'll pick up more work to 'offer space' but also stifle the idea of you needing or wanting your own financial independence. But while he may work himself tirelessly to keep your cage gilded and shining, he will have your schedule down to the minute. Any deviation will be met with smiles and polite inquiries, but don’t lie to him. And don’t promise you won’t try escaping again if you’re planning on it; he hates pie crust promises.

#Trinket's Rattlin' Bones #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere drabble #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #albert eastwind #tidus rhin #eugenio hernandez #aadesh sona #lazaro muertinez #rajesh khan

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omegaremix · 1 month ago

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Favorites For The 10′s.

Artists:

Cold Cave

Happy Meals / Free Love

Self Defense Family

Black Marble

Miss Red

Uniform

Death Grips

Russell Haswell

Omar Souleyman

Oldbill$

Water From Your Eyes / Thanks For Coming

Parquet Courts

Aurat

Releases:

Function & Vatican Shadow Games Have Rules

York Factory Complaint Lost In The Spectacle

Kedr Livanskiy January Sun

John Carpenter Lost Themes Remixed

Raveonettes, The Pe’ahi

Tearist Living: 2009-Present

Dame Charm School

Ron Morelli Disappearer

Happy Meals / Free Love Luxury Hits

Cold Cave Cherish The Light Years

Black Marble A Different Arrangement

Black Boot s/t

Post Trash Volumes 1-4

America Fuck Fertility Clown

Diat Positive Energy

Tropic Of Cancer Stop Suffering e.p.

My Bloody Valentine MBV

Primitive Weapons Surrender Yourself

Algiers s/t

Happy Meals / Free Love Apero

Daughters You Won’t Get What You Want

Water From Your Eyes All A Dance

JK Flesh Rise Above

New Dreams Ltd. Initiation Tape: Isle Of Avalon Edition

Alan Vega It

Unsane Wreck

XXYYXX s/t

Refreshers How Bout U

Ninos Du Brasil Vida Eterna

Azar Swan Cut Hands & Vatican Shadow Variations

Rixe Coups Et Blessures e.p.

Songs:

Nine Inch Nails “Over And Out”

Cold Cave & Black Rain & Genesis Breyer P-Orridge “Comprehension”

Boy Harsher “Pain”

Glass Candy “Warm In The Winter”

IO Echo “Carnation”

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Fright Night (Nevermore)”

Tropic Of Cancer “I Woke Up And The Storm Was Over”

Tame Impala “New Person Same Old Mistakes”

Clams Casino “I’m Drawn” (Crim3s RMX)

Preoccupations “Disarray”

GXFR “Ajax”

Mono/Poly “Alpha & Omega”

Prayers “Shaking Hands With Razor Blades”

Washed Out “Feel It All Around”

Planit Hank f. Buckshot & Jeru The Damaja & AZ “Life In Crooklyn”

Holydrug Couple, The “I’ll Only Say This”

LNDN DRGS “Dope Sick”

Phil Western “Bleak Night”

Death Of Pop, The “Sun In My Eyes”

Model/Actriz “Matador”

NGLY “Speechless Tape”

Nick Klein “American Stomach”

Evidence “Throw It All Away”

Westerbur & Rowe “Side C”

York Factory Complaint “Loved”

Rong “Cup”

Xray Eyeballs “X”

Burial “Come Down To Us”

Khruangbin “August 10″

Sleaford Mods “My Jampandy”

Atari Teenage Riot “Black Flags”

Bug, The f. Miss Red “Diss Mi Army”

Godspeed You Black Emperor! “Piss Crowns Are Trebled”

Happy Meals “Crystal Salutations”

Polysick “Barry Talks”

Ta-Ra “L’il Bit”

Crystal Castles “Pap Smear”

Clear Soul Forces “Get No Better”

Molly Nilsson “I Hope You Die”

Consumer Electronics “Knives Cut”

JK Flesh “External Transmission Stage”

Bethlehem Steel “Guts”

Current Affairs “Eyes”

Lost Under Heaven “Black Sun Rising”

MssingNo “Quick Shake Off”

Weeping Icon “Teeth (& A Handbag)”

Purling Hiss “Don’t Even Try It”

Silent Servant “The Strange Attractor”

IKO 93 “Mutt” / “Drag”

Ghxst “Ride”

Uniform & The Body “In My Skin”

Taiwan Housing Project “Buy Buy Buy”

Pastel Ghost “Clouds”

Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement “Watery Grave”

Rezzett “Zootie”

Lower Dens “Ondine”

Azar Swan “Jungle Law”

Pharmakon “Xia Xinfeng”

Impalers “High Wired”

Uniform “The Lost”

Akitsa “Prophétie Héritique”

Self Defense Family “Indoor Wind Chimes”

clipping. “Wriggle”

Antwon “Helicopter”

Ice Cream “Plastic”

Bug, The f. SpaceApe “At War With Time”

Hot Flash Heat Wave “Glo Ride”

Priests “Jesus’ Son”

Gong Gong Gong “Down Quantity Road”

Brian Eno & Kevin Shields “Only Once Away My Son”

All These Fingers “Puerta Vallarta”

White Mystery “White Mystery”

Boards Of Canada “Nothing Is Real”

Underworld & Iggy Pop “Bells And Circles”

HTRK “Summer Rain”

Joan Shelley “Over And Even”

Surfbort “Slushie”

Vatican Shadow “Weapons Inspection”

Nick Klein “Anxiety Plae”

Copper Sounds & Franco Franco “Accelerazione Generale”

Trouble Knows Me “Celebrity Vision”

BADBADNOTGOOD “In Your Eyes” (f. Charlotte Day Wilson)

Found Discoveries (non-’10′s):

Keiji Haino “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean”

Isolated Showers “Death Through Open Eyes”

Steve Khan “The Blue Man”

Body Without Organs “Osiris Rises”

Spizzenergi “Soldier Soldier”

Joanna Brouk “The Space Between”

Bereket Mengistaab “Lebay (My Heart Or My Emotions)”

Bathory (s/t)

Suicide (s/t)

Subtle Turnhips “F* The People F* The Power F* The People To The Power”

Mayhem De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas

Thomas Leer & Robert Rental The Bridge

Negril (s/t)

SPK “Serenace”

Gigi Masin “Tears Of A Clown”

Cabaret Voltaire Extended Play

Kegcharge s/t

Charles Manson Lie

Sandro Brugnolini & Stefano Torossi “Effetto Notte”

Captain Sensible & The Softies “Jet Boy Jet Girl”

Jah Wobble & The Edge & Holger Czukay “Hold On To Your Dreams”

Prurient Cocaine Death

Les Rallizes DeNudes Heavier Than A Death In The Family

Desire “Mirror Mirror”

Anti-Nowhere League “For You”

World Renown The LP

Most Precious Blood Our Lady Annihilation

Council Estate Electronics “Hall Hayes”

Eric Gale “Morning Glory”

Killing Joke “Mass”

Ata Kak s/t

You Love Her Coz She’s Dead

Joy Division “Interzone”

Tunnel Canary “Jihad”

Death Spiritual / Mental / Physical

Hirut Bekele “ልሽከም ፍቅር”

Labels:

Awesome Tapes From Africa

Wharf Cat

Katorga Works

Detriti

Sacred Bones

Hospital Productions

Italians Do It Better

RRRecords

Label Compilations:

Monorail Trespassing Project Housing

Italians Do It Better After Dark

L.I.E.S. Music For Shut-Ins

Avon Terror Corps No Sleep ‘Till Avon

Fuzzoscope Earwax Shelf Life

Total Disappointments:

Tim Lambesis attempted murder for hire

Endless Kanye West coverage

Bhad Bhabie.

2016.

deaths and suicides of various legends (all genres)

Ten Walls’ career suicide

PWR BTTM

Ethan Kath

Orwells, The

Whirr Twitter controversy

Ian Watkins

Blood On The Dance Floor

Tekashi6ix9ine

We’ve only been six years strong (seven with Omega WUSB), but we’ve always had our pulse on what’s going on before then. Ω+ has mapped out where we’ve been, where we’re at, and where we’re going; while our radio show reflects our best finds and habits when we play for keeps. It’s a real-time game with real-time results. With everyone supporting what we do, we feel like winners. It’s inevitable that every end of the year or decade calls for a best-of list and we’re not immune. It’d be a huge undertaking doing a best-of-the-decade for our radio show, and with so much out there, it’s not even possible. So, it’s better if we showed you our entire hand here.

The rules? All songs and albums had to be released in the wild from 2010 to 2019. Artists and labels have had to make their impact visible during this decade as well. All selections are culled from about 75 different music outlets, several Long Island record stores, label mail orders, our radio show Omega WUSB, and our personal site Ω+. We also had a lot of generous help from our own friends and allies of Omega, WUSB, and Bandcamp. There’s even a special section of “classic” discoveries we found during the decade still worth checking out. That’s our “as it happens, when it happens, anything goes” policy of Ω+. Every color, belief system, denomination, and utility is found there. One total exception to all this, though: no pop. We’re no industry authority, just only one person. It’s only opinion. However, some people confuse that with fact, therefore we waive all responsibility for hurt feelings, lost bets, hate mail, mysterious packages, or damaged property, so take it as you will at your own risk.

First, our favorite artists of the decade starting with two very important and personal game-changers. Everyone following Ω+ knows that Cold Cave started the domino effect of turning my life around. It was the first hint of many that showed me that something better was out there to focus on in a post-economic crash era. The other? Parquet Courts. As mentioned a few days ago, our former program director Ari warmed me up to them and opened the door to our current fever of post-punk and d.i.y. It’s been a pretty alluring aesthetic to hear and observe.

Artists such as Self Defense Family, Russell Haswell, and Death Grips not only sound really good at everything they’ve released, but when you take a closer look at them, you’ll realize that they do have great ideas. We champion Self-Defense because of their non-traditional ideas you’ll never see in punk music. Interviews with porno actresses on their albums, their islander series of 7”, naming songs after obscure people, or having their production personnel also become part of the band that tours and makes records at the same time, all on top of Patrick Kinlon’s sense of humor and down-to-earth takes on the human condition. In our eyes, Russell Haswell has embraced technology for his own needs and intentionally uses his experimentation to thwart and throw-off electronic music, rhythms, and dance clubs as one. Who else but Death Grips not only announces splits-ups and cancelled tours but follows up with new records as if nothing ever happened? An instrumental album out of pace with silent interviews? Secret messages, albums produced by Shrek director Andrew Adamson, and rockets-red-glare taking off on No Love Deep Web while MC Ride screams in your ears while Zach Hill and Andy Morin create some of the most mind-destroying sounds leaving forensic cleaners wondering what to do with themselves? Yeah.

Want someone totally unique and not like the others? It’s Israeli dancehall artist Miss Red and Syrian defect-turned-peacemaker Omar Souleyman. You could also add Pakistani dark-wave outfit Aurat as well. Then you have artists we feel do no wrong with everything they do. Black Marble was introduced to us by Alice of WUSB’s Nightmare Aquarium while Happy Meals (now Free Love) was found in the wild. These two gave us a certain specific feel we get hearing their output that is way too good. They also signified new eras moving into new addresses during the decade. At the same time we found Free Love, we also found Uniform. We never heard of them until we showed up at Output (✞) when they shared a bill with Pharmakon, Prurient, Aaron Dilloway, Genesis P. Orridge, and Merzbow. Since then, we loved the prolificness and psychotic insanity of Michael Berdan’s various projects (York Factory Complaint, Drunkdriver, Believer/Law) and Ben Greenberg (Coca Leaf), who also produces and runs one of our favorite labels in Sacred Bones. Hip-hop producer Oldbills, with his cloud- / dream- rap style and technique, got me into the beat-tape world, so say hello to Fuzzoscope, SEENMR, Beat Detectives and All These Fingers when you see them. A late entry? Rachel Brown, half of Water From Your Eyes. We really loved “That’s The Girl” and “We’re Set Up” from All A Danceand then took ourselves to Brown’ssad-girl solo project Thanks For Coming for that New York City d.i.y. feel. Again, blame WUSB’s d.i.y. boy wonder Conor.

The above-mentioned weren’t the only ones who made a huge impression on us. Many albums and songs did the same in other ways. Not only did these albums have our attention the most, but some of them set the tone for personal specific events. I can tell you that Kedr Livanskiy’s January Sun andWater From Your Eyes’ All A Dance (again)made for some essential and memorable soundtracks to hot Summer days and cold Autumn nights in New York City. New Dreams Ltd.’sInitiation Tape: Isle Of Avalon Edition wasour first discovery into vaporwave, perfectly replicating an early 90’s zeitgeist that was all too shockingly familiar to me. Refreshers’ How Bout U did the exact same thing but for the later half. Tearist’s Living: 2009-Present made us feel like we were in a totally different space we’d never been before and likely will never visit in real life. One glaring entry is Post Trash, the only non-artist / publication on the list whose annual compilations provide lots of what makes Omega WUSB’s post-punk and d.i.y shows. Dame’s Charm School and Black Boot’s 2013 demo not only captured the spirit of Bandcamp’s deep underground and undiscovered artists, but also gave Omega WUSB something else to play with.

But sirens be damned if we didn’t mention the other albums we rated highly. None more serious than Function & Vatican Shadow’s Games Have Rules, a sensory overloadexuding futurism, searing lights, and ambience in a world of darkness. That’s only one amazing techno record Hospital Productions introduced to us. Ninos Du Brasil was another. Nodoubt Vida Eterna supplied us with some very exciting and harrowing moments we’d oblige to experience again. We found The Raveonettes’ Pe’ahi and we’re open to be blown away again with their noisy red-levels of overloaded garage and surf sounds. While we could be turned off by the name and title of America Fuck’s Fertility Clown, facing their gigantic industrial / electronic anti-capitalist and pro-socialist manifesto is a dramatic undertaking gladly attempted. Though Tool’s Fear Innoculum was their first record in 14 years, their fans didn’t have it as bad as My Bloody Valentine’s. Try a 21-year wait for MBV which ironically dropped in total unexpected fashion and to the surprise of many. MBV had one of our listeners take notice and became responsible for Omega WUSB’s entry into shoegaze.

Obviously, we can’t forget all the many individual finds released this decade listed here. It’s a more precise and accurate list representing Omega on a more personal scale and these are the ones we come back to the most. Each and every one found here has that something special you can’t simply put your finger on, and they all tell a different story. Tracks like LNDN DRGS “Dope Sick” and GXFR’s “Ajax” are some of the most chilling hip-hop cuts we’ve ever experienced. No doubt Boy Harsher’s “Pain” and Azar Swan’s “Jungle Law” epitomize some of our most pulsating moments. Want to feel lost, hopeless, and isolated? There’s Nine Inch Nails’ “Over And Out”, Clams Casino’s “I’m Drawn” (Crim3s RMX) and Phil Western’s “Bleak Night”. Finds in Nick Klein’s “American Stomach” and Copper Sounds & Franco Franco’s “Accelerazione Generale” were so what-the-fuck and left-field that we were scrambling in tongues to figure out exactly where their ideas came from. Khruangbin’s “August 10″ really took us by surprise. We thought it was a usual lost Seventies vinyl find. Wrong. They’re a Houston trio whose brand of funk can replicate that mellow resonant groove to a tee.

Then our return favorites: Molly Nilsson’s “I Hope You Die”, Cold Cave & Black Rain & Genesis Breyer P-Orridge’s “Comprehension”, Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti’s “Fright Night (Nevermore)”, Lost Under Heaven’s “Black Sun Rising”, Uniform & The Body’s “In My Skin”, Lower Dens’ “Ondine”, and Boards Of Canada’s “Nothing Is Real”. And, if we had to pick our one absolute favorite that is worth everything to us? Preoccupations’ “Disarray”. It’s the most unforgettable song. Period.

That’s not all. There’s discoveries not of this decade we’ve found, too. That’s natural. Again, they supply a special time, place, and story for us. And just like this decade’s list, they have something special about them that makes them keepers. Just like how Cold Cave’s Cherish The Light Years became a turning point for me, Prurient’s Cocaine Death came along as an added plus. The sonic and historical origins of Suicide’s self-titled debut, Tunnel Canary’s “Jihad”, SPK’s “Serenace”, and Body Without Organs’ “Osiris Rises” totally defy any explanation and none rather needed or asked for. Some of them simply sound great. Primitive Weapon’s Surrender Yourself and Most Precious Blood’s Our Lady Annihilation makes the list based on sheer power and fire. Bathory’s self-titled debut is arguably one of the best black metal albums that still stands to this day, and don’t forget Mayhem’s either. Only a pinch of classic jazz / fusion finds in Steve Khan, Eric Gale, Negril, and Death are here; essentially a portal to a world which no longer exists. In fact, that genre gets a whole list to itself. Glass Candy’s “Warm In The Winter” laid the foundation for Omega WUSB’s re-entry to the schedule with thanks to our ally Christine of Mix Tape Radio, followed by another Italians Do It Better favorite: Desire’s “Mirror Mirror”. See any unfamiliar names? Bereket Mengistaab, Ata Kak, and Hirut Bekele mark the milestone in Ω+’s exposure to African musicks and we’re currently considering doing a special of it.

We didn’t forget about labels. It’s no surprise that five of the eight labels listed are from New York City. We’re not sorry at all for defending that flag. Thank Brian Shimkovitz’s label-blog Awesome Tapes From Africa for those aforementioned finds and doing what we’ve been doing after him. Wharf Cat and Katorga Works, two bastions of Brooklyn-based post-punk, noise rock, and d.i.y., have given us an immense amount of artists and aesthetic to gloss over. For all things darkness, we’re going with Sacred Bones and Hospital Productions all the way. The former introduced us to Pharmakon, Uniform, Cheena, and John Carpenter’s Lost Themes Remixed, one of our most favorite movie soundtrack projects. The latter lead us to Wes Eisold / Heartworm, Ron Morelli / L.I.E.S., a unique aesthetic which made us think strategically, and a legendary 20th anniversary showcase in Greenpoint we will never forget.

While around before the decade, Los Angeles’ Italians Do It Better has released some great stuff in Desire, Farah, Mike Simonetti, Chromatics, and more. A huge hat-tip to Johnny Jewel for all the free vinyl giveaways he’s sent us and the ones we ordered from him. A late entry we find intriguing is the UK’s Detriti, Their method of mostly monochromatic record covers, generic design, and easy-to-approach synthpop, darkness, and minimal electronics have us curious of them. As of now, Galatee, Filmmaker, In A Dramatic Gesture, and Parole E Azioni are considered for future airplay. Note that four of those listed had their own showcases on Omega WUSB. Honorable mention? Our correspondence with the always kind Emil Beaulieu and his RRRecords. We’ve missed purchasing from him during peak hipster (mid-Oughts), so we did it again this decade not once but twice to round up some noise titles truly deserving of our money. We’re relieved to say that we’re very proud to have those noise titles in our collection.

Label compilations? Why not. Going back to Jewel’s Italians- label, both of their After Dark volumes provided Omega WUSB with some great selections over the years. Hospital Productions was responsible for giving us Ron Morelli. His L.I.E.S. label compilation Music For Shut-Ins gave us some great marquee moments from Svengalisghost, Samantha Vacation, and Legowelt as we moved addresses. Fuzzoscope’s Earwax beat-tapes made us appreciate that lo-fi cassette feel even more. One dilapidated corner of noise, grind, and punk we didn’t know existed or could be felt was discovered via Monorail Trespassing’s Project Housing cassette, and from there lead us to Jewish Uprising, Cell Block, and Total Abuse. Monorail’s compilation was nothing like we experienced. So much that we even had dreams about it. Another last-minute entry that made it to the finish line is Avon Terror Corps, proudly given to us by our ally Joshua JF, better known as Fellony to all of you. If Copper Sounds & Franco Franco’s“Accelerazione Generale” (again) is any indication of some quite innovative electronic sounds, then we only have more of Avon Terror to look forward to.

Last and intentionally least: total disappointments. I really don’t need to explain to you how the lowest eight made the list (and we really do stress "lowest”), who’ll have their very own special front-row seat in Hell when they get there. The other entries also deserve no explanation. It’s best to just forget about them. Seriously.

Sure, there’s a lot to digest. That’s the nature of all things Omega. A decade allows us to cover a lot of ground from everywhere imaginable because this writer (VMFX) makes it all possible. 90% of our finds come from numerous music media outlets while 10% comes from streams. It’s imperative that we reach out to these said outlets to maintain both Omega WUSB’s “new, relevant, and current” ethos and Ω+‘s survival through new, classic, and personal finds. Both serve the same purpose to reach out to our listeners, followers, and supporters and we’re curious to see how it goes. We do many unique things and pull surprises other fellow blogs here don’t, which makes this list a curious but fun draw.

So who knows what the future will bring, and who knows if any of us will still be here to care (on a site that censors nudity like Communism, we have to mention). We can’t wait to see what the new Twenties will bring us, and maybe we’ll place our bets heavily as we just did. Thanks for playing.

(Originally published at the end of 2019.)

#music #omega #playlists #mixtapes #personal #wow #legendary #amazing #holy shit #unbelievable #stunning #10's

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coochiequeens · 1 year ago

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While world leaders wring their hands the mothers and children of Palestine suffer.

A premature Palestinian baby at the maternity ward of al-Shifa Hospital [Mohammed Al-Masri/Reuters]

By Federica Marsi and Ruwaida Amer

Published On 2 Nov 20232 Nov 2023

Fukhari, Gaza Strip – A rhythmic beep accompanies the mechanical ventilator as it breathes oxygen into a premature baby’s lungs. The thin tube stretching from an oxygen tank pumps life into her fragile body, as a monitor tracks the feeble thump of her heart.

Talia was born on October 6, one day before the outbreak of Israel’s latest war on the Gaza Strip, following a Hamas attack on southern Israel. Her skin has since lost the bluish tinge that had raised alarm among medics at the Nasser Medical Hospital in Khan Younis, in the southern Gaza Strip, but her lungs are not strong enough yet to function on their own.

Hospitals across the Palestinian enclave warn that fuel supplies are running dry amid Israel’s total blockade. Once the generators stop, newborn babies dependent on electric incubators for survival could die within minutes. Already, the fuel shortage has forced Gaza’s only cancer hospital to shut down.

“There is great fear and anxiety for the lives that would be lost,” Asaad al-Nawajha, a paediatric and neonatal specialist at Nasser told Al Jazeera. “We continuously appeal to provide the necessary fuel to operate the hospital’s generators and ensure the safety of children, the sick and the injured in Gaza.”

The hospital’s neonatal emergency unit houses 10 children, some born up to four weeks earlier than their expected due date. The Gaza health ministry estimates that 130 newborn babies are currently dependent on incubators across the strip.

Samar Awad, Talia’s 25-year-old mother, said the baby girl was the child she “had dreamed of,” but that giving birth to her had been far from idyllic.

“The doctor told me that there was water in her lungs and that she needed to be monitored, so I’ve been sleeping with her in the nursery,” Awad said. She has not been able to take her daughter home.

The Gaza Strip has been under relentless bombardment since October 7, when Hamas staged a surprise attack on southern Israel, killing at least 1,400 people. Israel’s bombs have since killed more than 8,700 Palestinians in Gaza, including more than 3,000 children.

Since the Israeli government issued an order to evacuate the northern part of the enclave, the southern districts of Khan Younis and Rafah have been flooded with internally displaced families.

Air strikes have been continuing in the southern Strip despite Israel’s relocation order. Alongside the gut-wrenching fear that a bomb might kill her husband and three-year-old son as they huddle with relatives in Khan Younis, Awad is gripped by the anxiety that the machine that keeps her baby alive might go silent.

“I’m terrified the hospital will run out of fuel,” she said. “I want this war to end, and for my daughter to be home with her brother and her father, who miss her very much.”

A medical worker assists a premature baby who lies in an incubator at the maternity ward of al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City [Mohammed Al-Masri/Reuters]

The United Nations’ sexual and reproductive health agency, UNFPA, estimated that 50,000 pregnant women have been caught up in the conflict in Gaza, with more than 160 deliveries every day.

About 15 percent of births are forecast to result in complications. “These women need to have access to emergency obstetric care, and that becomes even more challenging with trauma cases coming in and the health system being on its knees,” Dominic Allen, the UNFPA representative for the State of Palestine, told Al Jazeera.

As part of the UN, the UNFPA has been calling for an immediate humanitarian ceasefire. “There needs to be a space and time to ease the human suffering that we are witnessing in Gaza,” Allen said. “Humanitarian aid and supplies must be allowed through.”

At least one-third of hospitals in Gaza — 12 out of 35 — and nearly two-thirds of primary healthcare clinics — 46 out of 72 — have shut down since the start of hostilities due to damage or lack of fuel, increasing the pressure on the remaining health facilities that are still operational, the UN has found.

Israel has allowed a few aid trucks in via the Rafah land crossing with Egypt in recent days. But it has barred the entry of fuel. It classes diesel as a “dual use” good that can be used for military as well as civilian purposes — even though Israel closely monitors all fuel that enters the Gaza Strip, all the way to the final delivery point.

At al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City, the largest medical compound in the Palestinian enclave, medical staff have described working conditions as “catastrophic”.

“We lack basic necessities for life and are struggling with a severe water shortage,” Nasser Fouad Bulbul, head of the premature and neonatal care departments, said.

As fuel runs out, desalination plants have also shut, leaving hospitals largely unable to ensure the most basic hygiene norms. The UN says that only three litres of water a day are currently available per person in Gaza for basic health requirements including drinking, washing, cooking and flushing the toilet – far lower than the recommended minimum daily amount of 50 litres.

According to the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), Gaza’s water facilities are currently pumping five percent of their pre-war daily output, with infant deaths to dehydration a growing threat.

As resources dwindle, the needs are greater than ever. Bulbul said he had noticed an increase in premature births in recent weeks, which he attributed to “fear and terror”.

“We do not know what to do as we are facing a severe shortage of medical supplies, ventilators and essential life-saving medicines,” he added.

Yasmine Ahmed, a midwife at al-Shifa, said most of the babies at the hospital were the only survivors from their families. “There is no one to take care of them and there is the threat that the electricity could cut out, so they would [also] lose their lives,” she said.

For parents who long to hold their newborns in their arms, every day is filled with nerve-racking uncertainty. Lina Rabie, a 27-year-old mother from Khan Younis, struggled for years to conceive a child. Her son was finally born a week before the war began.

“He was born on the first week of the eighth month [of gestation] and doctors told me his life was in danger,” Rabie told Al Jazeera. Marwan, who takes his name from his paternal grandfather, has since been placed in an incubator at the Nasser hospital.

"Every second the war continues, my heart burns with fear for my child and for all children,” Rabie said. “I hope the war will end and my son will recover, then I’ll be able to hug him any time I want.”

(Ruwaida Amer reported from the Gaza Strip, and Federica Marsi from Milan, Italy)

#Palestine #Palestinian mothers and children #Gaza #Children and access to water #Mothers and access to healthcare #Hospitals running out of fuel #50000 pregnant women #160 births a day

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dronebiscuitbat · 5 months ago

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Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 77)

Khan was looking over a blueprint of the bunker, taking note of every empty hallway, abandoned room, and silent space.

There used to be so many more of them, a population over several thousand strong, living on the surface, it fell a bit when they retreated into the bunker, people locked outside when the doors shut for the first time, but there were still so many of them.

And yet… their population had fallen and had kept falling, a joint effort from the disassembly drones hunting and a falling birthrate, nobody wanted to have kids with a looming threat over their heads, and despite the bunker being safe, there were reasons people would go outside, the bunker ran on solar power, and those were outside… you do the math.

That was something they didn't have to worry about anymore, but now there was so much space that was left unused that he didn't know what to do with. A part of him wanting to keep these places accessible… in hopes that eventually the bunker would be full again. But another wanted to make use of the extra material, perhaps to reinforce the sections that were being used.

He was interrupted by a loud and urgent knock, pulling his head out of the sprawling blueprint with a jump. He sighed as he took a final sip of coolant before stretching, every gasket in his spine decompressing with a loud hiss.

He left his home office and made his way to the door. Expecting another visit from Dale, that man was exceptionally not happy with N and V moving into the bunker, and had been complaining to Khan ever since he'd found out about it.

He understood his qualms, Dale had lost his entire family to them over the years, it was why he dedicated the rest of his life to the protection of the bunker from the outside. But since day one, the man had been extreme.

Dale suggested that they booby trap the first door so that any drone that tried to get in would be summarily lit on fire, and it took too much convincing from both himself and Hal on why that would be equally dangerous to anyone needing to do maintenance on the doors or the solar panels.

Dale then moved on to outright demanding that they send an armed force to attack the disassembly drone “nest” (his words, not Khan’s.) head on.

Hal about strangled Dale for that, “We've lost enough people! Are you outta ya mind?!” He screamed, pressing him up against a wall, gripping Dale's shirt.

Hal had chilled out quite a bit in age, but when younger he had a little bit of temper problem.

He opened the door not to find Dale wanting to go on another drunken tirade, but his daughter, stress present on every feature of her face, his granddaughter (oh that was still exciting to say) tucked in her arms protectively, with N in behind her looking grim.

He immediately knew something was wrong.

“Uzi, N. What's the matter? Is everything okay?” His first thought was that, somehow, Uzi had lost the baby, but another minute of looking at the both of them took that thought away, they both looked more concerned then heartbroken.

“Sorry for barging in dad but… this is kinda urgent.” Uzi explained and Khan moved to the side to let them in. He noticed the way N's tail was arched around Uzi, not quite wrapping around her, but being angled in a way that he could pull her into him at a moment's notice. What has got him so on edge.

“It's not a problem. What's wrong dronelette?” Khan’s voice was as soft as he could make it, difficult due to how deep his voice was naturally, but it was an attempt all the same.

“Okay. Sit. I have a presentation for you, and I don't think you're going to like it.” Uzi led him down to sit on his own couch, a small wary smile breaking onto his face.

“I feel like that's become a pattern.” He chuckled, and for a moment she smiled back.

“For once, it's not about me.” And then the moment was over, stress lines returning as she sat Tera up next to him, his granddaughter smiling and belting “Pop Pop!” At the top of her lungs.

His core felt like it had been punched, and he immediately took her into his lap, he noticed her fangs, but said nothing, Nori had them too, it wasn't that strange.

In a moment, N had made a projector with his hand, displaying a slightly fuzzy, yellow tinted hologram onto his coffee table, his immediate thought was if N would allow him to take a look on how that functioned, but that thought was immediately taken away by Uzi's voice.

“Okay so N and I were outside, uh -” She didn't want to freak her father out by telling him about the nest N made, so she stammered slightly. “-Scavenging, for old times sake, when he found this.”

The blank hologram fizzled into the figure of a drone, limping and acting erratic, strange tendrils snaking up it's back, before it's head came off, and a thick black appendage was released from it's cavity.

Khan’s eyelights went hollow immediately, equal parts disgusted and horrified. What the hell was that?

“Before you ask, no, that's not the worst part.” Uzi seemed to read his mind as the hologram fizzled again, this time into a fairly accurate model of Copper-9 itself.

“This, is the worst part.”

A huge hole opened up on the side of the holographic planet, exposing the nonexistent core, tendrils snaked out of it before it fizzled into a closer, more detailed view of flesh and bone from the ground and slightly above.

Yeah, that was way worse.

“This… thing. Opened up not too far from here, N and V already scouted it, it's too big to burn, and any explosive would put the rest of the planet at risk.” His eyes turned to his daughter, her body language erratic, her tail was free without her notice, twitching like it was irritated. Despite her composed speech, she was on the verge of falling apart.

“We need to evacuate the planet, a-all of us, because this thing is spreading, and if you touch it it turns you into that.” The hologram switched back to the drone with the tentacle for a head.

“And you are literally the only drone I know who everyone would actually listen to if you told them to. So…”

Khan was speechless for a moment, all the information bouncing around in his head like an arrant pinball. Eyelights frozen hollow and his mouth agape.

She wasn't wrong, that hole looked like it went straight to the center of the planet, and if that was the case, more holes would surely follow, like a worldwide sinkhole.

But.. leaving the planet?

He had respect sure, and he was certain he could at least get all of his team of engineers in board, they were all itching for a challenge. But he knew getting everyone on board wouldn't be easy…

“That's a lot to ask… even for me.” He finally found some words, even as they came out choked. “This is our home Uzi, we don't know anything else.”

He was including himself, logically, she was absolutely correct, evacuation was the best course of action. But he'd been built here, built, worked, loved, lived an entire lifetime on this planet. And leaving it - that was scary.

“Dad, if we don't leave we're all going to die. There's no… hiding from this. There won't be a planet to call home anymore.” Uzi stepped towards him, almost pleading.

“I-I don't know, m-maybe if we vacuum seal the doors-” He stammered, looking for another solution, a familiar one instead of one so bathed in uncertainty.

“Please Dad, just trust me!”

And suddenly he was back in that dreadful moment, Uzi panicking, bladed wing impaled through her shoulder, pleading with him to just point and shoot and to trust her. Where his body was trembling watching that murder drone - N, drool all over the floor in prep for his next meal.

His greatest regret. And a chance to redeem himself.

He looked down at his granddaughter, all smiles, looking up at him with such wide eyes, eyes that reminded him so much of his little girl… that was now pleading for him once more.

He'd listen this time.

“I-I, Okay. We'll try.”

Next ->

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #oil is thicker then blood #tera doorman #Khan gets a second chance #khan doorman

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khanrelli · 1 year ago

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kamala khan and the downsides of being a superhero | kamala & nakia

a fanfic with Nakia Bahadir and Kamala Khan from Ms. Marvel

When Kamala unintentionally creates chaos in her neighborhood, she is overwhelmed with emotion and confides in her best friend, Nakia. word count: 692 warnings: none read it on archive of our own!

Kamala had found herself thrust into the world of superheroics – what originally was her biggest dream, turned out to be her living nightmare.

Being a superhero means there's bound to be bad you have to fight. She was up fighting a supervillain that went by the alias 'Kaboom'. She looked to be about her age. Kaboom could manipulate, control, and harness electricity.

The fight left her bruised, shocked (quite literally), and exhausted.

Through her pursuit of justice, she had unintentionally created problems in her tight-knit neighborhood. Electricity lines collapsing, scorch marks on buildings, and the general atmosphere of unease. The same people who supported her, now held her responsible for the troubles in their neighborhood.

She dragged herself to school, not being able to find Bruno, but instead overhearing a conversation that some of the students have.

"How am I supposed to believe she's the city's 'superhero' when she can't even stop some electro-freak?"

And another.

"No Ms. Robinson, I couldn't do the homework because the whole Kaboom incident cut my power out."

And another. "Why does New York get all the actual good superheroes?"

And the final blow, from her own best friend, Nakia Bahadir.

"I dunno, but this Ms. Marvel is giving us a bad rep. As if things couldn't get worse for the mosque, now there's more surveillance on us." She mentioned to Miguel.

Nakia had spotted her best friend in the corner of her eye, "KK!". She didn't bother to acknowledge her and instead briskly walked to the bathroom, overwhelmed.

"Hold on." Nakia had told Miguel, following Kamala, determined to find out what was going on.

The bathroom was empty but she still opted for the more private space. Kamala locked herself in the bathroom stall and sat on the closed toilet lid. She held her face in her hands, gently sobbing into the cuffs of her jacket.

She heard the bathroom door open and footsteps walking towards her stall. "KK?" Nakia called out to no response.

But she could see her friend's sneakers with doodles all over them at the small opening below the stall door and knew it was her. "Are you okay?"

Kamala couldn't keep it in anymore. She had to tell someone. Her muffled voice trembled as she tried to compose herself, "Naks, I feel like I'm failing everyone." She sobbed out.

"Oh, Kamala. Open the door."

Kamala hesitated for a moment, wrestling with the vulnerability of unlocking the stall door. Eventually, with a shaky breath, she clicked the latch open. The door creaked as it swung ajar, revealing Kamala's tear-stained face and disheveled appearance.

Nakia's concern deepened as she took in the sight of her distressed friend.

She went down to meet Kamala's eye level. "What's going on?"

Kamala sniffled, trying to gather herself before speaking. She looked into Nakia's eyes, searching for understanding. "The more I try to do good, the more I mess things up. I just don't know if I can keep doing this."

Nakia didn't fully understand what she was talking about but she did understand that her childhood best friend needed her support.

She wrapped her arms around Kamala, a silent reassurance exchanged in the tightness of the embrace.

Nakia gently sighed and holding her friend's shoulders, "Kamala, I wish you could see yourself the way the rest of us see you."

"If you could, you'd see that you are a radiant and amazing person. You aren't messing things up. We all stumble, but that doesn't define who you are. You're still that same incredible friend, no matter what." Kamala met Nakia's gaze, a lump forming in her throat as tears welled up.

"I don't know what you're going through but I swear, if you need anything and everything, I am always here." Nakia continued, offering a warm and reassuring smile. Kamala pulled her back into the hug, seeking solace in her embrace.

As the weight of Nakia's words settled between them, Kamala felt the sting of guilt and the ache of a friendship hanging in the balance.

She sobbed into Nakia's shoulder, hugging her. How do you tell your best friend you're the one person she despises?

#ms marvel #the marvels #kamala khan #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #mcu #nakia bahadir

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nehetari-of-szarekhan · 2 years ago

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Most high heiress of our Silent King, what is your opinion on the Astartes legion besides the Iron Warriors and the primarchs of said Legions?

-A Curious Collector

"Your query vexes me," Nehetari blinks, the hint of amusement in her eyes. "Surely you know this is not a simple question to ask of anyone, let alone myself." She straigtens her posture, and the emotion fades from her face once more.

"I will indulge you, but I will be brief. I have yet to form opinions on all the different breeds of space marine, or their Primarchs for that matter, so I will share the ones I have."

Jaghatai Khan - Good opinion. We met in Commoragh, and we escaped around the same time. I respect his sense of honor and his need for speed. His skill in combat is also exemplary.

The White Scars - No opinion. I have never met his sons, but I have heard they are very much like their father.

Lehman Russ - Bad opinion. It's a shame: we probably could have been friends if he didn't make a third occupation of harassing my lover.

The Space Wolves - good opinion. Though louder and ruder, being around them reminds me of the crowds in the oasis-side inns of my homeworld.

Corvus Corax - bad opinion. I would complement his aesthetic (his feathers are quite lovely), but he knocked me unconscious and tried to drag Perturabo back to their father. When I caught up to them, well... ...I doubted I would ever use the techniques I learned from Urian Ricarth, but I suppose my so-called "mentor" would have been proud of me that day.

The Raven Guard - no opinion. I've not met one yet, but I am fond of their aesthetic.

Vulcan - Good opinion. This might be surprising as he also assisted Corax in abducting my lover (and also nearly beat Crucius to death), however I have since learned that he has honor. Also, his devotion to his people is admirable.

Salamanders - No Opinion. I have yet to meet them properly, but like the White Scars, I hear they are much like their father. They battle well.

Rogal Dorn - No opinion. I am surprised at how little interest I have in this being. I wonder if this is because of his influence on the Warp or Perturabo's influence on me.

The Imperial Fists - Neutral opinion. What good are rockcrete walls when a C'tan shard throws a mountain at them? By human standards, though, they are excellent builders.

Fulgrim - Bad opinion. Lecherous, needlessly sadistic, and proud without the substance to support it. Thankfully, due to the timely intervention of the Drukari, my time under his capture was brief. Though I have heard that he is still searching for me. I regret 'rewarding' him with my memories of constant agony.

The Emperor's Children - Bad opinion. Noisy, messy, unsanitary... ...startlingly bad pain tolerance for ones so obsessed with the Pleasure & Pain alter of the Aether. Quite disgusting over all.

Alpharius - Omegon who?

The Alpha Legion - Good opinion. The dark chocolate flavored recaffe and ork fingers they sent me were delicious.

Sanguinius - No Opinion. Since there's a high likelihood that he is one of Father's hidden consorts, I dare not cast my opinion at him. But I will say that he is definitely Father's 'type'.

The Blood Angels - No Opinion. I have yet to meet any of them. Though I have been told that they too enjoy the taste of blood.

Ferrus Manus - Bad opinion. This one died long before I returned to life, but I am fairly certain that its soul was trying to possess Perturabo's older brother. I considered trying to destroy it, but apparently Crucius has, 'gotten it to fuck off.' I am unsure of how he managed this.

The Iron Hands - *Her face remains impassive, but the skin around her eyes scrunches up in rage* I would pity them. Their grief has trapped them in an undending downward spiral leading to the same fate that befell my people. However, their concious wish to become the same empty husks is an insult to all Necrons, and I will not forgive it.

The Original Iron Warriors - Undefineable Opinion. They are all microcosms of Perturabo's trauma and mistakes. And also the unfortunate consequence of them."

Nehetari sighs, then closes her eyes. There is a long moment of silence, then, "...there are others. But I grow weary of this topic. I will release my reports as I feel inspired. Now... ...leave me."

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 2 years ago

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A Khan By Any Other Name

moodboard by @strangelock221b

summary: Pre Star Trek Into Darkness. John Harrison (Khan), on the run from Admiral Marcus, is on mission to save his people, and presses a good Samaritan to help in his quest. Though initially against her will and amid a variety of dangers, Seraphina DiPietro quickly discovers her sympathy for his plight--as well as her attraction to him--becoming irresistible.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OFC)

rating: MATURE/18+

word count: 4.5k

excerpt from chapter ten

...Khan pulled the hovercraft into the darkened lot of a modest, little roadside inn. Their agreement to stop for the night remained unspoken, as though a spell of sorts had fallen over the both of them. Neither cared to look back upon their deadly encounter, let alone discuss it—but each silently recognized a change in the dynamic of their relationship.

Once Sera had arranged for their lodging, he backed the craft into the space in front, leaving it to face the wooded area behind the inn, positioned so to facilitate a quick departure should it be necessary.

“I paid for two nights, just in case,” she revealed, her voice grown soft in the quiet of the room, as he bolted the door behind him, “I thought, it’s so late already and perhaps…well perhaps we might not be…be ready to leave at…checkout time.” She shrugged, tongue-tied now that they were alone, surely feeling the full import of having shut the rest of the world away.

The room was simply furnished; the only difference he discerned, from typical night lodgings of his time, was a viewing screen that took up at least three-quarters of the wall across from the bed. Seraphina left her bags sitting on a chair, and set about unpacking the items she had purchased for them; an assortment of protein bars, several types of fruit, and bottled water. “I wasn’t exactly sure what you would like, but these should do alright—don’t you think?”

“Of course,” he answered, careless of the objects in question, focused only on the steady current thrumming between them.

“And I got a few things you might need,” Seraphina continued, her words spilling out in a nervous rush, “A toothbrush and a razor; a clean shirt—I hope it’s okay, I just guessed at the size. And…um…a change or two of…underthings…”

She trailed off, as Khan moved closer, stilling herself completely as he ran a hand up from the small of her back, to leave it resting between her shoulder blades. He spoke softly, reassuringly, against her ear, “I’m sure all is exactly as I need.” Her sudden, aching vulnerability was dizzying him, and making him want to slowly savor every moment to come, despite how his true need was growing stronger with each breath he drew.

She gave the quietest little moan as he stroked her cheek, and then turned her face up to his so he might lay a soft kiss on her mouth. “Seraphina,” he exhaled against her lips, “My unexpected, little miracle.” He kissed her again, and again, and again, never going deep, teasing himself as much as he teased her, making her want to go deep but denying her at the same time. “Be mine, Seraphina,” he insisted between the tender tease of each kiss, “Be mine…be mine…be mine…”

“Is this real…is this really happening,” she whispered, even as she craned her neck enough to encourage him to paint a trail of moist kisses upon her throat. Khan slid his palms down to cup her breasts, rubbing his thumbs hard against her nipples, and delighting as she arched into his hands.

He nuzzled his way back to her ear, softly rumbling his answer, “The most real thing I’ve known, in more years than you could possibly imagine,” punctuating his lonely secret by gently tugging her earlobe between his teeth. It drew from her a surprised gasp, as she tightened her grip on his biceps. He thought her as ripe and willing as any woman he had ever taken, reading in the way she trembled against him further proof of her desire—until her plaintive tone broke through his fog of lust.

“Please, John…oh please. Just let me breathe a moment. We’re moving so fast…and I…oh god,” she panted, struggling for the right words to say, “I want you, I want this…I just…I’ve never been the kind of woman who falls into bed with a man she barely knows…”

Khan backed away, dazed by her seeming refusal, and blinking slowly through the stupor of hard desire. Stymied by her mixed signals, he growled more harshly than he should have, “Woman, what is it you would ask of me?”

She shook her head, moving close and laying her hand against his cheek. “Only that you give me a chance to catch up to you. That you just—please--bear with me a little bit. You’re quite…” she swallowed hard, searching his face for understanding, “…quite a force of nature, you know.” Seraphina bowed her head a moment, sounding a little overwhelmed, “I want to choose this of my own volition, and not because you’ve swept me up in the power of your…” she met his eyes again, her face a perfect mix of guilelessness and longing, and sighed as she told him, “…your beautiful will.”

As potent as was his desire for her, Khan knew in his heart that he must concede to her soft entreaty. Recalling their delicious trespass all those hours ago—and relishing her sweet fragility now—he realized that he had no true choice but to be patient…for she was a prize well worth waiting for.

He turned from her, not out of anger or frustration, but because he needed to cool his ardor for a time. “How prettily you test me, my sweet desert rose,” he grumbled, “So that in this, I must bow to your will.” He paced to the far side of the room, restless and aching for satisfaction. Stopping near the window, he parted the drapes enough to peer outside, trying to distract himself from the seething heat in his blood. Khan heard her quiet ‘thank you, John’, and muttered an acknowledgement, registering that she had moved into the bathroom without looking her way.

By the time that she emerged, he had kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed, managing to calm himself and quiet his hunger. His eyes were closed, as he concentrated purely on breathing; he felt Seraphina approach, but remained still until she cautiously addressed him.

“I suppose I ought to look at that cut now. At least clean it up, see that it doesn’t get infected.”

He opened his eyes, to find her beside him, a damp washcloth in her hands. A sweet act of conciliation, he thought; how very like her. Though it was unnecessary—his genetic makeup endowed him with a superior immune system, meaning he was seldom prey to illness or infection—he decided to allow it. It would be ill of him to reject her simple act of kindness.

“Thank you,” Khan murmured, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, leaving room so she might sit beside him. He pulled his shirt off, discarding it on the floor—completely unprepared for her reaction.

The moonlight in the alley had been enough for Seraphina to excise that insidious tracker from beneath his flesh, but far from enough for her to note his true condition. She gasped at first, then fell mute, moving a step back to take in the full picture. In his unwavering focus on getting to London, Khan had put the pain he had endured--at Marcus’s behest--behind him, and so had not given a thought to how he would appear to her. At her gasp he looked up at her, wordless himself, to explain the sight confronting her.

Remaining silent, Seraphina studied the map of ugly bruises on his shoulders and torso, her eyes the widest he’d seen them yet. When she finally found her voice, it was hushed and sorrowful, “Who…who did this to you?”

Khan blinked several times, fascinated by the minute tremble of her lips; she was holding back some strong emotion, and on his account. “Unimportant,” he replied dispassionately, “And safer for you not to know.” And then, uncharacteristically, he looked away, the soft, sympathetic regard in her eyes and the set of her mouth nearly too much to bear. What was it about her that made him want to appear invincible? He would not have her think him a victim of any kind. “These will heal rapidly, and any pain that ordinary men must feel…I…I simply do not. I master it; it does not master me.” Of course, he did not add that these sort of injuries would put an ordinary man in the hospital, perhaps clinging to life even with all the medical care available—well, in his time, anyway. Today, he supposed, the broken ribs would be easily knit, the punctured lungs child’s play to repair.

“Oh, John…why? These men you’re running from…why…why would they beat you so?” Sera moved closer, cautious and concerned, and he remained still as she sat by his side on the edge of the bed, knowing she wanted to touch him, and realizing he needed the tender mercies she would be offering.

Nearly every conscious moment since he’d been awakened, Khan had waged his lonely battles—physical, mental, emotional—a stranger in a cold, sterile world that valued him for only that which it could rip from him against his will. He had withstood the rounds of relentless, merciless tests, the repeated psychological games meant to break him, and finally the methodical, repeated beatings administered by men who knew the exact effect of each blow upon the human body (though he was superhuman, even Khan had some limits to his physical endurance, and his captors had explored those limits in every possible way). Yes, Khan had borne each outrage against his mind and his flesh, reaching deep inside himself for the patience to sustain him, burying the anger and the hate for a future day when he would make Alexander Marcus and his minions pay the most painful and deadliest of prices. And not once had he sought compassion or clemency, focusing solely on surviving, never imagining a man such as himself would be afforded simple human kindness, even wondering at times if such soft inclinations had finally been bred out of the human race.

Yet here was this kindhearted woman, proving that benevolence did exist in a hard world, reaching out to comfort him. He’d thought he might wince when she laid her hand upon him, for some of his wounds were still tender, but she touched him gingerly, almost reverently. Khan would have refused her advance if he’d seen pity in her eyes, but that was not her way. “John,” she said--her sadness mixed with an irresistible huskiness that left him feeling weak, and hungry at the same time--laying her other hand against one of the lighter bruises, “Let me help you…let me make this right somehow.” Khan closed his eyes, silently acquiescing, allowing her to move her hands across his skin, letting go at last. Such tenderness, he realized, had far more power over him that the violence he had endured, answering most unexpectedly, the ache in his soul for true human connection. Too many lifetimes of men had passed since he’d felt a woman’s touch. And so gentle a touch as this. Too many ages.

Slowly, then, and lightly at first, Seraphina began to trace his skin with her fingertips. Small circles to begin with, and then fanning out a little at a time, from his shoulders and along his collarbone. She smoothed her palms upon his chest, and his breathing deepened in time with her movements. She was soothing and stirring him by patient touch alone, and when he exhaled her name she moved in close and began to kiss his neck. Slow, sweet, and fleeting kisses, coupled with the brush of her hair against him. Khan leaned his head back a little as her kisses became fuller and more insistent, lingering at the hollow of his throat, and beginning a descent along his sternum.

His ribs on either side bore the worst of his bruises, but Seraphina caressed them with the greatest care, while brushing her parted lips across his chest, and teasing him with butterfly kisses as she neared where he was most sensitive. He groaned deeply at the electric sensation when she danced the tip of her tongue around his areola, narrowing her circles until she flicked it against the hardened nub at its center. The urge to touch her was nearly overwhelming him to give back in kind, and even more—yet he longed to lose himself a while still in the exquisite comfort she was giving. He lost track of time and any sense of place, only aware of the exacting patience of her hands and her lips, her dear, familiar scent, and the shared rhythm of their breathing.

When she withdrew, she rose from his side without a word, so that he opened his eyes to watch her pull her blouse over her head, and drop it at her feet. Her skin was healthy and unblemished—and in the low light of the quiet room—lightly tanned in contrast to the pale pink of her bra. Khan’s mouth watered at the sight of her nipples beneath the cottony material, little buds drawn tight, sure sign of her desire for him; he ached to take them in his mouth, to tease them with his tongue, and graze them with his teeth, imagining the sort of noises she would make in reply. A wave of lust coursed through his belly and below, sharply demanding satisfaction, but he made no move as he waited to see how she would proceed.

Seraphina stood before him in the beautiful prime of womanhood--and in his eyes, her kind and gentle nature was as manifest in her appearance as her lovely physical attributes. He felt no surprise at the tears of empathy that spilled from her eyes, her pupils fully dilated as she drew nearer; and he knew he’d soon taste the salty trails those tears left upon her cheeks. Oh he would taste them; he would taste all of her surely, for he read her intent in how she moved, and in the soft, quick pant of her respiration. She will taste like a desert rose, he reckoned, his body grown ready for her: I will drink myself full of the sweet nectar of my desert rose.

Then she was slipping off her huaraches and sliding her skirt down past her hips, shimmying a bit until the fabric fell in a puddle around her bare feet. The waistband of her panties lay low, skimming across her bikini line, tempting him to reach for her and pull her close, so to hook his fingers inside the thin elastic band and tug away the soft fabric that covered her mound. He wanted to learn the scent of her arousal, to dip his fingertips and tongue into her secret places, and to make all the precious wonders of her supple young body his.

Khan stood up without prompting, reaching for her; Seraphina’s small, pure smile dazzled him as she moved into his offered arms, delectably compliant as he unhooked her bra, slid the straps down, and then cast it on the floor. He exhaled hard at the sight of her revealed, his wonder undeniable, “Perfectly lovely…exactly as I expected.” She lowered her eyes a moment, then met his gaze again, clearly pleased with his appraisal. On most women, this might appear as the pretense of modesty, but Khan already knew her well enough to know this was no artifice.

Seraphina slid one arm around his neck, laying her other hand on his shoulder, and began to kiss his neck again. Flesh on flesh at last, he was aware of every inch of her skin against his; it’s heat a match to his, her smooth, firm breasts pressed tight to him, the muscles of her abdomen as taut and enticing as he’d imagined. He slipped his hands down her back and inside her panties, cupping her bare bottom so that she moaned deliciously. There would be no stopping now, this course that had been destined from nearly their first words to one another.

Seraphina leaned back, resting most of her weight in his hands, and then gazed up at him, looking sweet and wanton all at once. He darted in quick to take her lips in full, thrusting his tongue into her mouth; Khan shivered as she laved her tongue against his, then sucked it boldly, before pulling away. A lascivious tease, he thought, and one he would be very glad to repay—until she rested the crown of her head against his chest, so she could focus on undoing his jeans with both hands. She pushed them past his hips and down his thighs, leaving him to shuck them off the rest of the way while she returned her attention to his mouth, nipping at his lips while she pressed her pelvis against his. Her eager fingertips strayed past the waistband of his underwear, progressing from his back and around to just beneath his navel, her goal quite clear. He allowed her to smooth her fingers through the springy curls of his pubis, allowed her the touch she so hungrily sought; her fingers were cool upon his heat as she began to run them along the ridges of his hardened phallus. Khan grunted, tightening his grip on her bottom, making her whimper her affirmation.

But then--by pure force of will--he clamped his hands on her wrists, growling against her ear, as he withdrew her hands from their intimate quest, “Not quite yet, my divine little temptress. You must ripen even more before I take you.” Though it felt like forever since he’d had his satisfaction, Khan knew he could master his lust a while yet before that inevitable urge overtook him. Seraphina sagged against him, moaning her frustration softly; certainly confused, but rife with desire and ready to follow his every whim.

He laid her gently on the bed, pausing to watch her a bit, reading her need in her rapid respiration and in the soft curves of her breasts, waist and hips. Slowly, he peeled her panties away, purposely breathing deep so that she would see he had caught her scent, and telling her, “You are mine now, Seraphina.” He ran one hand up from her knee to the juncture of her thighs, stretching his fingers wide and resting his thumb in her soft thatch of hair, his face inches above hers, “As you have wished from the first moment I caught you in my arms.” Khan kissed her brow, while moving his thumb closer to her slit, his voice a rough caress, “Tell me if this isn’t so.”

Seraphina blinked slowly, then nodded her head, and smiled softly up at him, “Yes, John. Yes, I am…yes, I wanted this. I want you.” Revelation dawned in her eyes, as she understood the true depth of her desire, “I want you…in every way imaginable.” She brushed her fingers through the fringe that fell over his brow, adding quietly, with a wisdom that pierced his heart, “But don’t deny there is at least some part of you that is mine.”

He chuckled warmly, musing wondrously before kissing her long and deep, “In flesh, in spirit, you are indeed the match to me, sweet Seraphina. Perhaps the universe set you in my path to make amends for the cruelties I have suffered.” Khan hovered above her, memorizing her smallest details a few moments more, and then blazed a trail of kisses down to her breasts. “Perfection,” he murmured against her skin, and then took a stiffened nipple between his lips, tickling it with his tongue while she moaned her reply. Sucking it softly at first, then with increasing pressure before he popped it from his mouth, and moved to lavish his attention on the other.

At the same time, he finally drifted his thumb down to her clitoris, rubbing gently to begin with, then tracing from its tip downward, along her exposed labia, and back again, varying his strokes to keep her on the edge, and eliciting her deepest moans yet. His cock pulsed with ferocious need, straining against the material that was the last barrier between them. Though the deeply buried, primitive part of him cried out for him to plunge himself inside of her, he focused his will on Seraphina’s pleasure, and on preparing her for his eventual entry. Teasing her a bit more, until he brought his fingers to her opening, finding her slick enough to explore; she pushed against him as he flexed one long finger, and then two, inside her, spreading her legs wider to allow him deeper access. “Slowly now, my flower; open to me with patience,” he instructed her, “Trust me in this, as in all things now.”

“Ohhhhhhh…but let me touch you, too,” Seraphina implored him, moving one hand from his hair, skimming it quickly down his body, while stretching her fingers to take him in hand. “Let me feel you…all of you…please, John…please.”

Khan moved his pelvis just out of her reach, keeping her in place upon the mattress effortlessly, intensifying his strokes against and inside her. “No, my precious one, you must wait. Your sweet touch would surely set me ablaze—but first, I would watch you as you come…” Her breath caught with that word, and she squirmed beneath his hand, hot, wet, and achingly close to resolution. “I will feel you in the moment that you peak, proof that you are mine,” he declared, and brought his mouth close to hers, breathing her in.

Seraphina raised her head and latched onto his mouth, her lips and tongue greedy to please him in the only way he would allow. Her hips moved in sync with his fingers, seeking the release he promised—yet still, she sought to persuade him. “No…please,” she begged, her breath catching again with insistent waves of pleasure, as he worked her towards her climax, “Don’t push me over the edge, John…I…aaaaahhhhhh…I don’t want to come until you’re inside me…”

Confident of his power over her—and truly wanting to experience her gratification before his own, he laid his mouth against her ear, “My beautiful one…my sweet flower…we have hours and hours ahead of us. There is time enough for satisfaction for us both. Let me please you in this way—and I promise this night that I will give you such delights as no man has ever given you.” She sobbed softly, confused by the promptings of her heart versus the fire he had kindled in her flesh. “You are my treasure, Seraphina. A heavenly oasis in a world that has only ever sought to use me violently. Trust me, my sweet, and know that I have come to trust you with my life.”

What little resistance she had managed, vanished in a single beat of his heart, as his talented fingers redoubled their efforts, thrusting deeply inside her again and again, while she ground against the glorious pressure of his thumb stroking her clit. In moments, Seraphina exploded like a maelstrom, crying out his name, clenching his fingers tightly within her; her hips rose, and her pelvis and legs went rigid, as her body strained to wring every ounce of ecstasy possible from this first penetration.

Though she fell back onto the mattress, her muscles continued contracting, and her body trembled in luscious after throes. Her pelvis twitched when he finally pulled his fingers away, signaling her body’s regret for his absence, testament to his skill. Khan smiled wolfishly, relishing his indelible effect upon her and anticipating what was to come next, then forged a pathway of soothing kisses back to her passion-bruised mouth.

Resplendently dazed—and with a satisfied flush coloring her skin--Seraphina kissed him back with a tenderness that defied her earlier fervor. The heat in his blood cried out for equal satisfaction, though he bided his time well enough—knowing he was minutes away from taking her in full.

“That…was…amazing,” she sighed, turning into him, casually nuzzling his neck, “And god, you…you smell amazing…and you feel like heaven…” She suckled along his clavicle, murmuring against his skin, “You taste like strength, and mystery, and…and forbidden bliss.” Seraphina slowly exhaled, “And I’d almost think I was dreaming you up—except I’ve never had such an…,” she bit her lip, and her eyelids fluttered shut as her senses relived the glory of it, “…such an intense…orgasm, in a dream before…”

Khan rumbled in his chest, judging her ready for more, while finishing her thought, “Nor in the waking world, I’ll wager.” She was delightfully easy to read, a creature of little pretense, her heart an open book; the language of her body against his was the only confirmation he needed. He splayed one hand across her hip onto the small of her back, pulling her against him and leaving not a bit of gap between them. She ooooo’d, surprised by his sudden roughness, but then conformed to him exactly as he wished, clinging tight while peppering his neck and chest with lusty kisses.

He caught her hand in his, and pressed his lips against her palm. “Now you will free me,” he ordered her, firmly guiding her hand down and setting it upon his bulging cock, “Free me--and then you may touch me as you desire, Seraphina.”

She complied eagerly, pulling away his underwear and grasping his hard, heavy shaft, feeling his full length and girth for the first time. Khan grinned at her moan of mixed surprise and trepidation, knowing he surpassed all of her expectations—his generous endowment another gift of his superior genetics. Her grasp was light and tentative, and she panted shallowly, on the verge of panic. “John…you’re so…so…big,” she sputtered, “What if I can’t…what if I can’t…accommodate…you?”

“Oh, my sweet—you needn’t fear.” His voice was patient, silk indulgence, having anticipated this last obstacle. “You see now why I needed to prepare you--and I promise you are more than ready.” As proof, he moved one hand between her thighs, his expert fingers exploring her core again, measuring her heat and slathering his fingers with her juices. His eyes bored into hers, as he willed her to calm and trust him. Seraphina’s mouth hung slack, as she watched him bring those fingers to his lips and lick her flavor from them. “Yes, my sweet, you are ready for me.”

She held still for several breaths, choosing her course. Accepting his word as truth, her lips quirked saucily—and Khan shuddered at the sensation of her thumb rubbing the tip of his cock insistently, capturing droplets of his pre-come on her skin. Avidly, he watched her suck her thumb, signaling her full submission to whatever he might ask of her.

Khan rolled Seraphina onto her back, taking in her full beauty once more, before mounting her. She kept her eyes locked on his, and they whispered endearments and loving encouragements back and forth, touching one another and never breaking contact altogether. Still marveling at his size, and seeing him ready to bury himself inside her, Sera grasped her knees from behind, pulling her legs back as far as she could, opening to him, vulnerable to him, her clitoris visibly pulsing with renewed need. Khan gripped her hips for purchase, and surprised her one last time, lowering his mouth and tenderly kissing her mound, then caressing her clit with the tip of his tongue; she cried out her bliss, writhing beneath him, raising herself to meet his full lips. She was close again, so close to more rapture, but this time Khan would have her orgasm engulf him.

Seraphina whimpered as he moved away from her wet portal, as suddenly as he’d begun pleasuring her there. “Hush, my sweet,” he cooed, scattering random kisses across her abdomen, and gently grazing the smooth skin of her breasts, on his way back to her mouth, “Have I not promised you all that you desire? And have I not proven myself a man of my word?”

She was nearly incoherent, only able to moan, and when he took her mouth again, he matched that moment by slipping the head of his cock into her melting pussy. He groaned with the joy of it, the purest pleasure he had of her yet, holding himself still as she bucked beneath him, begging him in that way to fill her completely. Unable to hold back a moment longer, he thrust his full length into her, the sensation so keen that he saw stars behind his closed lids.

It would be quick this time, Khan knew, from so long an abstinence. His heart hammered in his chest, pumping blood that had become molten as he rutted into her again and again, his magnificent brain shutting down all thought but the imperative to take his pleasure at last. He was aware enough to feel her lock her ankles together at the small of his back, and to feel her arms encircle him, holding on hard as he unrepentantly drove her body into the mattress. Seraphina encased him like a glove, and she met his movements measure for measure, her growing moans a heavenly counterpoint to the groans he felt rising from the seat of his soul.

With mere moments left to him, Khan snaked one hand between them, seeking her perfect little nub, her most sensitive spot, rubbing it roughly and pushing her to climax. She rose to meet his final thrusts, the powerful waves of her orgasm pulling him past his endurance, and he came furiously, all his consciousness focused on their connection, his cock convulsing as he spilled himself inside her.

For unnumbered moments, they seemed suspended in time, so intimately connected, throbbing together in the aftermath, and for that brief time unable to tell where he ended and she began. Seraphina drew deep gulps of air, her exhales cooling his sweat soaked skin. Khan found himself shaking, telling himself it was only the flood of hormones that hit is system, after a three hundred year absence. In truth, he knew of only one other woman who had drawn such a reaction from him; the comparison was too apt for comfort, and he shut those thoughts away.

When he looked down upon her, Seraphina smiled up at him, biting her lip, a sudden bashfulness complimenting the glow she wore for him. She rested one hand on the side of his neck, and the other she nested in his mussed hair, then raised her face closer to kiss his slightly parted lips, lingering on his bottom lip, spoiling him with gentleness after his rough use of her. “Are you well, my sweet,” he asked, solicitous of her comfort.

Her smile grew wide, and rather soppy, “Never better in all my life, my beautiful, dark…” She hovered a moment, in search of a perfect word, “My beautiful, dark, magnificent prince.”

“You flatter me, Sera,” he chuckled, using the diminutive of her name for the first time—for she truly was his now, in all ways. His steadiness restored, he continued, “But I will take it, along with anything else you care to give to me.” He took her mouth in a long, passionate kiss, her sweetness become the only candy that would ever satisfy him. Delaying the inevitable no longer, Khan withdrew from her as gently as he could, though she still hissed softly at the loss of connection. And, oh, she would be sore tomorrow—but he could not regret a moment of how he’d taken her. Of how you loved her, the voice of his younger self corrected him; he shut that thought away as swiftly as it came.

Sera turned into him, as he laid beside her, and rested her head on his shoulder. Though her voice was drowsy, Khan thought perhaps they’d couple a time or two more before sleep overtook her—and if so, his patience would exact magnificent pleasure upon her warm and willing form.

She traced her fingers across his chest randomly, and brushed her lips against his skin as suited her in the moment. Khan rested his nose against her hair, relaxed in a way he had not been since well before his ascendancy as leader of the Augments. Already the temptation to turn his back forever on that life--in favor of spending days, months, perhaps years, in the splendor of her loving—was insinuating itself inside his mind. He vowed to tread with greater caution in regards to her heart as they moved forward on their journey.

“It’s DiPietro, by the way,” she confided against his skin, “In case you were wondering.” A pleasant sigh punctuated her statement.

“What is?”

Sera kissed along his jaw, her answer rich with amusement, “My surname.”

“Ahhhhhh,” he rumbled, recalling her hesitance in what—now--felt like a full week ago. “DiPietro,” he repeated, enjoying the feel of it upon his tongue.

“Yes,” she laughed. “I didn’t want to trust you, you know. I thought it would be safer not to say,” she admitted.

“And now?” He had an inkling as to her reply.

“I would trust you with more than my life,” she confessed, unaware of the drift of his own thoughts, “I would trust you with my heart.”

The only answer he felt safe to give, was to pull her soft against him—hoping it would suffice for now. Hoping that when the end came, he would not have to break such a beautiful, yet unasked for gift, and one so tenderly offered.

If you enjoyed this, chapters 1-12 of this WIP can be found on AO3.

tagging: @bakerstreethound @withalittlehoney @rmoonstoner

buy me a coffee?☕

#my writing #A Khan By Any Other Name #Khan #Khan Noonien Singh #John Harrison #Khan x OC #Khan x OFC #Khan x Seraphina #OFC #Seraphina DiPietro #khan fan fiction #khan fanfiction #star trek fan fiction #star trek fanfiction #Khanbatch #my dark magnificent prince

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phyrexian-lesbian · 8 months ago

Text

Hey people, here is my opening for my what if? fanfic, the Nature of the Doctor.

The Nature of the Doctor

The Power of the Doctor

Deep Space, 2022

The two planets gleamed with fire and violence, bringing a tear to Yasmin Khan’s eye. Before her was a man who once was her true love, now becoming her worst enemy. That coat flowed in the breeze, reminding her of the woman she wished so dearly could be her everything, but that’s impossible. Her body, her mind, her soul have been taken by the man she hates. The man who caused this.

“Oh, excellent work,” he marvelled, eyes shining with the destruction, “Gold star and a sticker.” He spun to Yaz, a maniacal grin on his face. “That’s how you stop two sides from warring. Destroy them both.”

Yaz felt nothing but horror, hatred, and sadness. He saw her face, and snickered. “See?” he gloated, “No-one to stop me now.” He turned his back to her.

Anger flared in her chest. “NO!” she screamed, going to push him over. He spun and caught her hand.

“Not even you, Yasmin Khan,” he said softly, with a smile that did not reach his cold, merciless eyes. “Now come on, Yaz!”

He threw her into the TARDIS, which felt a lot colder than it used to.

“Let’s go on an adventure!”

The TARDIS groaned and wheezed, taking off into time and space. The Master danced to the sound, humming. “Mmmmmm, don’t you just love that sound, Yaz?” he said, spinning around the console room. “The sound of hope, someone once called it.” He stopped in front of the stairs she was sitting on. His dark silhouette was framed by the menacing yellow light of the TARDS. “Well, now it’s gonna become a sound of fear and despair. Everyone who hears this will cry, knowing that the Doctor has come to town!”

He paused, considering his words carefully. “Not Earth, though. Without the Doctor to save you, Earth is pretty much over, isn’t it?” He cackled, running back to the console. “And to think I’ve spent so long trying to end your pitiful little rock! Kinda sad, really.”

Yaz felt hollow. Everything she’d fought for was over. Now she wanted to see the Doctor more than ever, just to hear her voice once more. To save them.

“Hey, Yaz!” said the Doctor’s voice, making both Yaz and the Master jump. “What’s up- oh, hey, Master,” she said, her face falling.

“What,” the Master muttered, running up to her. Yaz stood in front of her, trying to shield her, “The hell- outta my way, Yaz- are you doing, Doctor? What’s this?”

“I’m not telling you, because I assume that you’re a part of the problem!”

“Aha!” the Master exclaimed, “A trauma-response Artron hologram, functioning in your mental absence!”

The holographic Doctor was silent.

The Master grinned, taking out a device that must have been a sonic screwdriver. As he lifted the coat, however, Yaz saw the glittering yellow crystal of the sonic that she knew so well. A thought crossed her mind, but her train of thought was interrupted.

“Let’s see, Yaz,” the Master said to her, scanning her with his sonic, “what seems to be the problem? Little earache?”

“Leave her alone,” the Doctor growled.

“Hush, dear,” the Master replied, then gasped at turned to the hologram, “Oh, naughty naughty, Doctor! You've given your little holograms to two other humans!”

Tegan and Ace, Yaz thought. Well, they almost had an advantage. But as the sonic whirred, Yaz felt her heart drop.

The holo-Doctor started flickering. “No!” Yaz screamed, trying to reach for her. The Doctor's eyes flicked to Yaz's, mouthed I'm so sorry, then vanished.

She clenched her fist. She didn't need to turn around to know the Master was sneering.

“There you go, Miss Khan,” he said in a mock-nurse voice, “All better.”

She would not cry. She would not cry.

She steeled herself and turned to meet the Master’s eyes.

“Why're you doin’ this?” she asked, “What's the point of all of this?”

His sneering smile vanished. “Don't you get it, Yaz?” He began pacing around the console, flicking controls as he went. “The Doctor has been nothing but a pain in my side and my heart for thousands of years. Despite all I do for her, she never sees me. Did she tell you how he locked me in a vault for seventy-something years?”

Yaz was only half listening. She was preparing to enact a plan to escape. “Of course she didn't. You should know now she barely told me anything.” She had to keep him talking for this to work.

He chuckled. “You're right, you're RIGHT!” He jumped and clapped, “I am the Doctor now. I know every little moment where she had to make sure she never fell in love with you.”

Yaz’s heart fluttered like a lonely butterfly. The Master saw her look up at him and she grinned.

“Oh, yes indeed, Yaz,” he teases, “I might not be able to access all of the Doctor's memories, but she meant what she said about you. You remind her a little- a lot, actually- of her darling wife. I can see it too, I've met her as well.” He waltzed over to Yaz. “I'd be rooting for you too, but honestly Yaz- you're not my type.”

She punched him in the chest. “You're lying!” she growled as he stumbled away.

He began laughing. Good, Yaz thought, tucking the sonic in her back pocket. She pressed it, angling it toward the console. All she had to do was point and think. And pray that someone would be alive and would hear her message.

“I'm not lying, Yaz,” the Master replied, “I'm dead serious. She liked you. You two could have been a glorious pair of sappy little sapphics, but alas,” he sighed dramatically. “It was not meant to be.”

Alright, Yaz wasn't sure how much more she could take of this. She sonic vibrated slightly; the message had been received and replied to. They were ready.

“Shut UP!” she roared, throwing him carefully onto a control on the console. The TARDIS began the re-materialisation sequence. Yaz took out the sonic, inputting the coordinates she needed. The TARDIS materialised, and Yaz turned to the Master.

He chuckled. “A nice try, Yaz, but you can't possibly escape me-,”

She snapped her fingers, and as the door opened into the view of the city far, far below them, Yaz leapt, and fell to her death.

England, Earth, 2022

Kate Stewart, Director of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, was thrown bodily into the Cyber-Conversion chair. Several of her soldiers sat shackled to these metal horrors, screaming as blades and electricity tore through their bodies. She steeled her face. She would remain stoic in the face of danger. Surely, the Doctor would save them now. It was kind of her M.O- last minute plans when her friends were on the brink of death.

The cruel, broken Cyberman clamped her into the chair. The apparatus closed around her hand. This might be it. Well, she'd lived a fulfilling life. She did good. She was proud of herself.

“Enjoy your last moments, human,” the cruel Cyberman growled- Ashad, his name was- and reached to activate the machine.

Then he paused.

So did all the other Cyberman.

“What,” Ashad growled, looking around.

There was silence. All the humans, who were now not being tortured, looked at each other in confusion.

“Explain!” another generic Cyberman demanded.

After a few moments, Ashad growled again. “How is this possible? You're meant to be-,” he stopped, as if interrupted. Kate guessed someone was contacting all the Cybermen.

“Doctor! Where are you?!” Ashad cried, his one visible eye flashing with anger.

The Doctor, Kate thought, She's saved us.

After a longer pause, Ashad turned to the other Cybermen and screamed; “AFTER HIM!”

Him? Kate thought. Last she checked, the Doctor had been going by she/her pronouns full-time recently. Had the Doctor somehow regenerated since Kate last saw them? Or…

She couldn't consider the other possibility. It could make an already complicated day even more complicated.

Whoever the Doctor was, all the Cybermen, including Ashad, stormed out of the dark cellar. The humans couldn't believe their luck. Well, now was better than never.

Waiting until they had definitely left the room, Kate spat the toothpick she had hidden in her mouth into her hand. She wiggled it into the lock, and managed to pick her way out of the cuff. When she freed one hand, she ripped her other free of the shackle. Both hands free, she freed the rest of her team.

“Well, team,” she said, standing, “Let's save humanity.”

Naples, Earth, 2022

“I think we just blow it up and make a break for it,” Ace said sagely to her new companion.

He shook his head. “Nah, nah, there's no way in hell we make that,” he replied, gesturing to the giant Dalek machine. They were inside a volcano that was on the brink of eruption. And a race of alien serial killers were planning to blow it up. Nor a great place to be in.

“Well, can you,” Graham said, gesturing to her, “figure out a way to blow up this bleedin’ Dalek monstrosity, and figure out a way to run fast enough.”

She scoffed. “And what are you gonna do? Boss a woman around?”

“Well, I'm pretty good at running away, so if you want to take charge on the res- ah, ah, AHH.”

He started fiddling around in his pocket, pulling out the psychic paper. He hissed when he touched it, but he opened it and his eyes widened, his pain forgotten.

“Oi, come and have a gander at this.” He gestured for her to come over. She peered over his shoulder. Scrawled writing appeared on the paper.

Hello, pudding-brains, it wrote.

“Charming,” Ace muttered.

I picked up two human life-forms idiotically close to a Dalek death machine inside an exploding volcano. I'll save your lives, though I'm afraid you might lose them immediately. I have a way to save you, if you listen carefully.

Ace and Graham leaned closer.

Run. Get out of there. It's about to blow and there's nothing you can do about it. So, run. I’ve got it from here.

Yours truly,

-The Doctor

They both groaned. Of course it was. Who else would be that relentlessly mean to them while saving them?

“I am going to have a word with her,” she muttered.

“Yeah, you and me both, mate.”

They ran out of the cave systems. The volcano rumbled behind them. As they looked up at the peak, the caldera exploded, taking a chunk of mountain with it. Lava exploded into the air, and it began its descent to their waiting heads.

And then it stopped.

A beam of blue energy struck it. Ace noticed a an extra moon in the sky that hadn't been there before. The energy seemed to he coming from something on the surface; the Doctor, Ace guessed. Whatever it touched turned to silver. Such as the lava-turned-giant sculpture above them.

“Cor blimey,” Graham marvelled, which pretty much summed up their situation.

England, Earth, 2022

Kate, thanks to the Doctor's distraction, managed to force the Cybermen to retreat and foe U.N.I.T. to take the tower back. Tegan Jovanka strode up beside her.

“Did she do it?” she asked.

Kate considered the “she”. She guessed she'd refer to the Doctor as such until told otherwise. “Evidently,” she replied.

Tegan sighed with relief. “Really thought the gold was gonna work there.”

Kate smiled at her. “We all did. I suppose, in hindsight, we should've seen it all coming.”

Tegan went to reply, but a U.N.I.T soldier ran up to Kate.

“Ma’am,” he said, breathless, “We have an urgent transmission from Yasmin Khan.”

Kate swore, taking the tablet from his hand. The screen showed a series of coordinates. Spatio-temporal coordinates, like she had learned from her father's files on communication with the Doctor. She translated it in her head, then swore again.

“That's above this city in 20 minutes.” She began typing a set of coordinates he would understand. “Get a helicopter there at the exact time, and tilt it sideways so she can fall directly into it.” His eyes widened. “Yes, it's as insane as it sounds. Now, go, go, go, go!”

He scrambled off to follow these orders.

26 minutes later, Yasmin Khan was returned safety to U.N.I.T HQ. She looked exhausted, emotionally and physically.

Kate sighed. “Listen, I hate to cut to the chase, but I need to know where the Doctor is. You have any intel on that?”

Yaz looked at her strangely.

“The Doctor is dead.”

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #twelfth doctor #yasmin khan #kate lethbridge stewart #tegan jovanka #ace mcshane #dhawan!master

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