#lethal and emotionless

[nottslove]

BLOODY KNUCKLES

Pairing: mattheo riddle x slytherin fem!reader 1.8k words

Warnings: 18+, smut under the cut, mdni, a little angst, established relationship, slight choking, dubcon if you squint, heavy cursing, mentions of blood, bloody knuckles, violence, degrading, praising, porn with minimal plot, fingering, slight edging, semi-public, lowercaps intended.

Summary: a guy flirted with you, and you gave him your number, only for your boyfriend mattheo to beat him up until he was barely breathing and teach you a lesson— that you belong to him, and only him.

Author's note: had this idea, and decided to write. special thanks to @ur-local-wizard for being an absolute cinnamon roll and giving me motivation. you guys should go follow them. enjoy!!.

HE was fucking pissed. You could tell just by the way he sat there before the fireplace, in the empty Slytherin common room hours past curfew, with his jaw tight and his fists clenched, staring venomously into the flames with the utmost displeasure.

You were cautious as you approached him, getting down on your knees and kneeling beside him on the floor, whilst he sat in the armchair, back hunched, his dark eyes wide and unblinking as they caught a reflection of the flames in the black windows to his soul.

You held a washcloth and a bowl of warm water in your hands, and your fingers slowly grasped his bruised knuckles and completely bloody hands, before you slowly began to wipe away the blood on his hands.

However, the moment your hand made contact with his, his dark, soulless eyes bore into yours, giving you a sharp, venomous glare.

"Don't," he growled, tugging his hand away, shrugging you off completely, gaze piercing through your soul with a glare so lethal, it caused you to allow the washcloth to slip through your fingers and drop to the floor.

You didn't know why he was mad at you, usually he allowed you to clean him up whenever he got into fights.

At the cold, dismissive rejection you faced, you felt your eyes well up the slightest bit, trying so hard not to cry, or let it show on your face.

"But—"

You quickly shut your mouth the moment you spoke, realizing that you did not want to stir the waters of a tide that was already far too strong.

But it was too late. Mattheo had caught your slip up.

"But what?" he scoffed, mocking you, his voice rough and raw, the displeasure that laced his voice almost palpable, causing another whole load of feelings to wash over you in the form of tears that you managed to hold in once again.

Usually, the simple sight of your glazed eyes alone was enough for Mattheo to instantly shower you in affection and cheer you up. You were his princess, his precious darling.

Now, however, he seemed unaffected, slightly amused even, letting out an emotionless scoff at your silence.

"But what, Princess? Fucking spit it out," he demanded, voice low and gravelly, large hand coming to rest around your neck, exerting the slightest bit of pressure and asserting his clear dominance over you, a silent warning for you to continue.

You didn't know why he was being like this, so darn mean. His fingertips were cool against your throat, and would no doubt leave traces of blood against the pale skin of your neck.

"Why are you mad at me?" you whispered, averting your gaze to where your knees rested on the carpeted floor.

Once those words were spoken, it was as if the entire air in the common room shifted, and everything became dark and eerily dangerous.

"Why am I mad at you?" he crooned, mocking you as he repeated your question right back at you, his other hand slowly coming up to your face, the back of his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pressed a little harder into your throat before releasing it. "I don't know, Princess, you tell me..."

"I didn't do anything, Matty, I was just making friends, like you told me to—" you protested, blinking back the unshed tears that clung to your lashes, your wide, doe eyes staring up into those of your boyfriend.

It was no surprise that you weren't exactly a social butterfly. Far from it, actually. Known as the quiet, and shy bookworm from Slytherin, you usually hung around in the library or in quiet places, and it was only a matter of time that Mattheo's eyes fell on you, and you became his latest prize to conquer.

At first, it was merely watching from afar, noticing you, and all the little things you did. From always needing a lollipop whilst writing, or constantly running your middle finger across your brow when reading, Mattheo noticed everything.

Then, it became an obsession.

Then, it became a desire for possession.

And when he finally fulfilled this desire, and you were his, and his alone, the more he got to know you, the more he noticed how introverted you were.

You had no friends, and instantly shied off whenever anyone approached you, and Mattheo decided that he would help you grow more confident.

And today, when some older Slytherin approached you, Mattheo instantly noticed and chased him away, instantly dragging you away to the library.

"Friends, huh?" he seethed, a dry scoff full of irony slipping past his lips. "Oh, Princess, that fucktard didn't want to be your friend... He wanted to be more."

Your mouth opened like a goldfish, and you swallowed as you tried to understand what he had just said.

You hadn't noticed anything about that guy; he had seemed genuine

Before he could explain further, he had already stood up, leaving you alone to ponder his words, and was walking towards the steps that led to his dorm when you stood up and trailed after him, your hand grasping his elbow softly, pulling him towards you.

"Where are you going? What did I do? Why are you mad at me?" you asked, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks at the casual dismissal in his body language.

At his words, he spun around, his gaze sharp, piercing, his eyes blacker than ink as they bored into you with conviction.

"Because you're mine!" he growled, possession dripping from his words as he spoke, the vein underneath his jaw pulsing as his blood pumped through it rapidly. "Solely... mine!" he hissed, his voice low and rough as he leaned to speak into your ear, the heat of his breath warming your ear. "Is that clear, or do you need more to understand?"

Your expression was blank, and you wiped your tears, yet you made no show to indicate you had understood his statement, only angering him further.

"Looks like you need reminding, who you belong to," he tutted, his bruised hand grasping your shoulder and holding you mounted against the wall, his other bloody hand yanking up your skirt and exposing the delicate, sensitive skin on your thighs.

You gasped audibly at the adrenaline rush that filled you when you realized that anyone could walk into the empty common room and see you like this. You tried to protest, to say something, anything, but words failed you as soon as you felt the cold brush of his rings against your skin.

You whimpered softly

His index finger slowly raked across the damp lace of your panties, a dark chuckle leaving him as he flicked your folds through the fabric, causing you to whimper at his touch.

Hi dragged his hand across your inner thighs, painting them red, smearing the blood from his bruised and bloody knuckles all over your thighs, a visual reminder of the guy he had just beaten up for you.

"Matty— what.. what are you doing?" you finally got the courage to whisper, your throat tight, and your voice low. "A-any-anyone can walk in—"

He didn't answer you, ripping your panties off in one move and shoving them into his pocket— he would most definitely jerk off with them later on.

The cool air hit your sensitive folds, sending a jolt of arousal through you as you let out a sharp cry when you felt Mattheo insert a finger into your tight, little hole, his ring adding a cool splash to the slightly stinging flesh.

It was only when he grunted slightly, in pain, that you realized he was doing this with his bruised knuckles and broken fingers, the ones he had used to beat up that other guy.

Your eyes widened and you gasped, and a cry ripped from your throat when you felt him shove two fingers into your slick heat, your juices dripping down his fingers, mingling with the blood and sliding down to curl around his wrist.

"F-fuck, M-matty," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm you, your knees buckling and threatening to give way, if it weren't for his other hand that held you up.

He hiked one of your legs to wrap around his waist, his fingers curling and scissoring inside your heat. You nearly exploded with pleasure when he added a third finger into your pussy, but he quickly retracted his fingers before you could reach your high.

"This pretty little cunt belongs to me," Mattheo declared, shoving them back in roughly and pumping his fingers in and out of your hole, your walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers involuntarily. "Is that clear?"

Your moans echoed in his ears, and you nodded, your back pressed against the cold stone of the wall as your hands found a position in his hair.

You were completely gone, lost in the delicious way his long fingers penetrated your tight hole, in the way they curled around just the right amount to reach that fleshy spot that made you see stars.

You could feel the pressure buildup, and you could hear the sounds of your slick walls clenching pitifully around his fingers, as his eyes bored into you like a man possessed, taking in every bit of your reaction.

"That's it, make a mess on my hand, Princess— so fucking needy..." he muttered, bringing his mouth down to gently bite into your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"I know you're so fucking close, do it— I want to feel you clamp around my fingers, so it— cum all over them..."

And God, with a shattering cry, you did. You tugged at his hair as your orgasm crashed through you, and your vision blackened, the surroundings replaced with colored dots.

You could barely hear your own cries, you had no sense of what you were saying or doing.

And all throughout your high, his fingers didn't relent, until your breathing slowed.

Mattheo brought his fingers to your lips, shoving them onto your tongue and forcing you to suck, giving you no choice in the matter.

"Lick it, every, single drop," he ordered, his dark eyes staring at you with amusement, watching your tongue trace all over his fingers as you lapped up your release and a mix of the blood that coated his fingers. "Don't you dare waste any..."

"Good fucking girl," he muttered, once his fingers were clean, retracting them from your mouth. "Next time, think carefully before giving your number to any Tom, Dick and Harry, alright?"

You nodded, too dumbfounded to do anything else.

His expression softened, and he slowly dropped a kiss to your forehead, smoothing down your skirt and patting the tiny bulge in his pocket, where your crumpled up panties rested.

"Goodnight, Princess."

And then he was gone, and when you slipped out of your daze, you caught sight of his dark curly hair as he ascended the stairs, before he disappeared out of sight.

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©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[kxsagi]

Me Me I REALLY LIKE THE WAY YOU WRITE ABAKSJAJAJA I LOVE IT SO MUCH JWBWKAKAKQ OF COURSE LOVE YOU TOO 🫶🏻🥺💖💝um... I want ask for the bllk boys' kids to say that the kid admires someone other than them, or their cute little daughter to say that she wants to marry their coworker in the future and not her dad.

“𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧”

a/n: AHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU TOO FOREVER AND ALWAYS BAE 💖🤞🙈 HOPE YOU LIKE IT

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, kunigami rensuke, bachira meguru, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito

isagi yoichi

“i wanna be like uncle rin! he’s sooo cool!” 

he blinks. then again. then he goes completely still like he’s buffering. “… uncle rin?” 

suddenly he’s on his knees, hands on his son’s shoulders, eyes wide with hurt. “but– but i taught you how to dribble.” 

“yeah, but uncle rin doesn’t even smile when he scores, that’s sick.” 

oh the betrayal. 

isagi dramatically flops face-first into the couch like a shakespearean widow. his son is confused. you’re trying not to laugh. 

later, he’s training harder than ever. 

“love, i’m gonna reinvent my image. cold. emotionless. lethal.” 

“yoichi–” 

“don’t call me that. call me dad, but like rin.” 

he sulks until your son tells him, “i changed my mind. i wanna be like dad when i grow up.” 

“say it again.” “i wanna be like dad.” “LOUDER.” “DAD!!!” “THAT’S MY BOY!!!” 

itoshi sae

“i’m gonna marry uncle nagi when i grow up!! he’s cool and plays games with me!!” 

he literally just stands there, blinking slowly like a cat. you can almost see the disappointment on his face render in 4k. 

“nagi? seishiro nagi? he’s a man-child.” “he lets me sit on his shoulders when we play tag!” “he can’t even tie his own shoes.” 

he immediately texts nagi in the group chat: [10:24 AM] sae: you’re banned from my house [10:24 AM] nagi: ?? [10:25 AM] sae: you’re corrupting my daughter [10:26 AM] nagi: idk what that means but she’s fun [10:27 AM] sae: blocked. 

the next time nagi visits, sae is stone-faced and stiff, holding his daughter in his arms the whole time like a guard dog. 

“you can’t marry nagi,” he mutters in her ear. “why not, daddy?” “… he doesn’t believe in taxes.” 

she ends up saying, “then i’ll just marry daddy!” 

he smirks at nagi. “good choice.” 

itoshi rin

“i wanna be just like uncle kaiser!! he’s awesome and has gold and blue hair and funny teeth!!” 

rin is offended. not surprised. not confused. offended. 

“funny teeth? funny teeth? they’re normal white straight teeth. and it’s not even a natural blue. he dyes it.” “he said his hair is made of sunbeams!!” 

rin scoffs and mutters under his breath: “this is your fault.” you: “… how is it my fault?” “you’re the one who let him meet kaiser in the first place.” 

he starts showing his son his highlight reels. “watch this. i broke his ankles once. made him cry. it was beautiful.” 

your son just goes, “yeah, but uncle kaiser smells like candy.” “that’s hair bleach, dumbass–” you slap his arm. 

rin sulks for the rest of the week. 

eventually, your son switches to, “daddy’s the coolest,” because rin bribes him with blue raspberry popsicles. desperate times. 

kaiser michael

“i wanna marry uncle ness!! he’s so cute and has pretty eyes and he always gives me snacks!” 

dead silence. 

kaiser slowly turns his head toward you like he’s possessed. “… did she just say ness?” 

he crouches down to your daughter’s height, fake smiling. “baby, you don’t wanna marry ness. he gets nosebleeds when he’s nervous.” “so? he said i’m his special princess.” “he says that to me, too!” 

he storms into practice the next day. “ness. you. stop giving my daughter snacks. stop calling her ‘my little cinnamon drop.’ i will report you to child services.” 

ness is sweating. “i was just being nice!” 

kaiser squints. “you’re trying to steal her from me.” 

he starts sabotaging ness by hiding all his hair products before games. 

later that night, your daughter cuddles up next to kaiser and says, “daddy, you’re the best boy in the world.” 

he melts instantly. “yes, baby. ness who?” 

kunigami rensuke

“i wanna marry uncle shidou! he lets me ride on his back and he roars like a lion!!” 

kunigami chokes on his protein shake. “SHIDOU?!” 

your daughter’s giggling in a princess dress and plush heels, swinging her feet as she talks about how “uncle shidou’s soooo funny and strong and he said i can be queen of the jungle if i want!” 

he immediately texts shidou: [3:03 PM] kunigami: stay away from my daughter [3:03 PM] shidou: lol why [3:04 PM] kunigami: she said she wants to marry you [3:04 PM] shidou: LMAOOO sounds like a skill issue 

he turns to you in complete distress. “how the hell am i supposed to compete with someone who barks for fun?!” 

kunigami starts taking your daughter to the gym with him. “this is the weight room. muscles are cooler than barking.” “but uncle shidou said barking is powerful.” “uncle shidou also drinks ketchup packets like juice. he is not a good role model.” 

she ends up picking kunigami again after he buys her a lion plushie and names it “sir roars-a-lot.” 

bachira meguru

“i wanna be like uncle reo! he smells like flowers and lets me play dress-up!” 

bachira freezes mid-spin, his son piggybacked on his shoulders. “what did you just say?” 

“uncle reo is sparkly. i wanna be sparkly, too!” 

bachira gasps like he’s been stabbed. “am i not sparkly enough?! what about all our monster drawings?!” “uncle reo has glitter. and nail polish.” 

bachira pulls you aside. “babe. we need to up our fashion game. we’re losing him to rich people glam.” 

next thing you know, he’s bedazzling his shin guards and showing up to school pickup in eyeliner and gold studs. 

reo just sips his smoothie like, “i win.” 

later, your son returns to his senses. “i changed my mind. dad’s sparkly and cool.” 

bachira cries a little. “my son. my heir. my glitter boy.” 

mikage reo

“i wanna marry uncle nagi ‘cause he’s super smart and he naps with me!!” 

“... excuse me?” reo’s eye is twitching. 

he just dropped a whole paycheck on matching father-daughter outfits for family photo day. he’s the best dressed man in kindergarten pickup history. and this is the thanks he gets? 

“uncle nagi doesn’t even pay taxes. i do your hair. i cook your snacks. i pay your tuition!” 

you’re like “reo, baby, breathe.” 

reo lies like “no. i’m fine. i’m just gonna lie here. like a broke peasant. because apparently money means nothing anymore.” 

he tries to outdo nagi by turning every activity into a glam bonding moment. “let’s go get spa treatments, princess. daddy’s paying. the whole mall. just for us.” 

your daughter, sipping her juice box: “but uncle nagi bought me gummy worms…” 

reo’s heart is breaking. 

he wins her back when he gives her a glittery tiara and says, “you’re my little heiress.” 

“can uncle nagi give you your own kingdom? didn’t think so.” 

nagi seishiro

“i wanna be just like uncle isagi! he works hard and never naps!” 

“huh???” 

nagi stares at his son like he’s never seen him before. “you… want to be conscious all day?” 

your kid nods eagerly. “uncle isagi said hard work is everything!” 

“gross.” 

he texts isagi: [9:08 PM] nagi: stop brainwashing my son [9:08 PM] isagi: i just said sleep is important but dedication matters [9:09 PM] nagi: he said naps are for losers [9:10 PM] isagi: YOU said that about water breaks in training 

nagi sulks the whole day and refuses to get out of bed. he lays on the couch with his hoodie over his face like a moody sea slug. 

you try to cheer him up: “baby, don’t be sad.” 

“i got replaced by someone who voluntarily wakes up before 10 AM.” 

but he wins his son back by saying: “fine. guess i’ll nap alone…” “NOOO DAD, WAIT, I’LL NAP TOO!!” 

shidou ryusei

“when i grow up, i wanna be just like uncle sae! he’s so cool and serious and smart and he never yells like you do!” 

shidou is frozen. mouth slightly open. one eye twitching. “… like who.” 

“uncle sae!! he’s amazing!! he has pretty eyes and he talks so calm and he said my drawing was ‘not bad.’ that means he likes it, right???” 

you watch as shidou physically short-circuits. because like, yeah, he gets it. he knows. he’s been mentally writing fanfiction about that man since the first time sae insulted his haircut. 

but this??? this is betrayal. 

“you wanna be like sae? what’s next, you gonna start ignoring people on purpose and wear turtlenecks???” 

your son nods proudly: “i already practiced my death stare in the mirror!!” 

shidou dramatically collapses on the couch. “this is the worst day of my life. my own flesh and blood… defecting to team itoshi.” 

you’re like “baby, aren’t you literally obsessed with sae?” “YEAH, BUT THAT’S DIFFERENT.” “how.” “i’m allowed. he’s mine.” 

he drags his sulky self to practice and corners sae like: “yo. i need you to stop being hot and mysterious around my kid.” sae: “i literally said two words.” “exactly. you’re too powerful.” 

later that day, your son tells shidou, “don’t worry, daddy. i’ll still visit you when i’m famous like uncle sae.” but then his son adds, “but i won’t marry him! he’s too busy!” 

and shidou perks up immediately. “good. ‘cause if anyone’s marrying sae, it’s me.” 

he immediately earns a “what 🧍” from you and his son. 

karasu tabito

“i wanna be like uncle aiku when i grow up! he’s soooo cool and all the girls like him!!” 

karasu freezes in the middle of brushing his teeth. spits. turns around. stares. 

“… what did you just say.” 

“uncle aiku said when you grow tall, you get girls.” 

“he did not.” 

karasu immediately bends down and rants to his son like he’s talking to a guy at the bar: “look, man. i know aiku seems cool, but he’s like 90% hair product and fake confidence. you wanna be a real man? do taxes. take multivitamins. own tupperware.” 

“but uncle aiku said abs are better than taxes.” 

“yeah? i say abs are lies.” 

he goes to work the next day and yells across the locker room: “HEY AIKU. STAY AWAY FROM MY KID.” 

aiku: “what’d i do??” 

karasu: “you’re poisoning his mind with your tall energy and hair gel!” 

to win his son back, karasu starts saying “no cap,” “rizz,” and “chopped.”  his son: “dad, please stop, you’re embarrassing me.” karasu: “see? i’m cool again.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[insidekatmind]

Secret~ Choi Do-Il

Request: yes!

The Wonryong Group headquarters is a cold and austere place. Gray concrete walls and dark glass stand imposingly, hiding secrets and dangerous ambitions behind them. You walk confidently along the corridors, trying to keep your face impassive as you were taught. You are a recruit, but also something more. Your training has been rigorous and ruthless, but you have always shown a strength that few possess.

Next to you, Choi Do-il maintains his usual calm and calculating attitude. His eyes observe everything carefully, his mind always one step ahead of the others. He is one of the group's leading elements, respected and feared by many.

What no one knows is that, beyond being colleagues, you are something more. A secret relationship that you have carefully cultivated, protected by the shadows and by your own cunning. No one suspects that behind your cold and professional exchanges there are deeper glances and stolen touches at the most unexpected moments.

"Are you ready for today's training?" Do-il asks, his voice as emotionless as ever.

"Always ready," you reply with a small smile, which he catches even though his eyes betray nothing.

You find yourself in the training room, a huge, bare room, furnished only with tools and combat weapons. For an entire hour you train relentlessly, quick and precise strikes, fluid and lethal moves. Neither of you hold back, it's a constant test of your limits and your endurance.

When training ends, you are alone. The other members have already left or are busy elsewhere. Heavy breathing fills the silent room as you stop, both sweaty and tired, but with the adrenaline still alive in your veins.

"You've improved," he comments, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

"I have to keep up with you, don't I?" you respond by taking a few steps closer, your eyes shining with an intensity that only he can unleash.

Without another word, he closes the distance between you. His hands grip your hips with a firmness that is never violent, but decisive. His mouth finds yours and all the control you show in front of others dissolves in that private moment.

The kisses are quick and greedy, as if every stolen second is precious. His fingers tangle in your hair as his body presses against yours, pushing you towards the cold wall.

"We don't have much time," he murmurs, but his tone betrays his desire to ignore that reality.

"I know," you reply breathlessly, but your gaze promises him that every moment together is worth the risk.

Maybe it's crazy. Maybe it's dangerous. But in that world of deception and power struggles, he's the only thing that can make you feel alive.

Do-il kisses you again and you cling to him.

His lips move hungrily against yours, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all rational thought. Your hands roam his muscular chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. He presses you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm that makes your breath hitch.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and husky. "How badly I want to take you right here, right now?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you arch into him, craving more of his touch. But just as quickly as it began, the moment is interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching.

Doil pulls away abruptly, his expression instantly switching back to one of cold indifference. He straightens his shirt and runs a hand through his hair, composing himself with practiced ease.

"Remember,"he says quietly, his eyes flicking to the door, "we can't let anyone suspect anything. Not until I've secured my position."

He takes a step back, putting some distance between you. "I'll see you later. Don't forget our meeting with the investors tonight."

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the training room, your heart racing and your lips swollen from his kisses. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and regain your composure. You know he's right you can't afford to let anyone find out about your relationship. Not yet.

As you leave the room, you can't help but think about the danger and excitement of your secret affair. It's a thrill unlike anything you've ever experienced, and you know that you would do anything to protect it.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of meetings and training sessions. But as the evening approaches, your thoughts keep drifting back to Doil and the investors' meeting. You know that he'll be on his best behavior, charming and ruthless in equal measure.

[prettyinpink69]

♥︎The beauty beneath♥︎

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: slightly suggestive (I'm sorry they're not fucking like cats and dogs yet 😭)

Part 1, Part 2

Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who read the first part of this ❤️ I was so scared to post it as I'd only ever written small smut stuff but I received so much love it made me want to keep going 💗

Tags: @djstinkyfartz @orphicsun @never-rune @alorixy (if anyone wants to be tagged in upcoming parts let me know 🥰)

Hours seemed to pass by in a flash, mostly you drilling Sevika with questions. Humans were weird; I mean, who doesn't hunt their food? They can just go into something called a 'shop' and buy it? "Yes, peach, we go into the shop and pick out what food we want to eat, and then we buy it, which is why we work so we can afford it," Sevika said in response to your completely dumbfounded expression. It was entertaining at first, seeing you all confused. But the longer Sevika looked at your furrowed brows and the way your lips slightly pouted when you were confused, she couldn't help but feel an intense fluttering in her stomach. No. She couldn't—she shouldn't feel this way. She was a tough woman; she doesn't fall in love.

"But then how do you know what you're buying is trustworthy if someone else made it? That's just stupid," was your response. You held the edge of the building, propping your arms up to get a better look at Sevika, unbeknownst to her. (Or so you thought. Sevika noticed the way you continued to get closer and closer as the minutes passed.) "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it peach, we just do things differently. That's what makes it interesting, hm?" That earned a huff from you, but in the end, you decided to drop it. Your eyes met; each time they did, it felt like the world stopped. Her grey eyes bored into yours with an intensity you'd never felt before. Your grip on the building grew stronger; the cold metal beneath your fingertips was numbing, but it didn't matter. Not when she was here and in front of you. Silent words were spoken, an understanding of feelings. Shared feelings, but what exactly was it? Interest? Love? Fascination? You didn't really want to think about it, yet it was all you could think about.

God, those eyes... Sevika held eye contact, something she usually despised. She always thought it felt like people could see straight into your soul, and yet here she was, staring into your eyes that felt like they drew you in, hypnotic almost. Vulnerable, that's what Sevika felt, and she hated it. The usually cold, stoic, and quite frankly emotionless woman she was, was nowhere to be seen tonight. She wanted you to see her; she wanted to tell you her deepest secrets and dreams, and all it took was looking into your eyes. Eventually, she blinked a couple of times and looked out into the expanse of blue. "So, peach, you gonna show me your tail, or have I gotta ask?" Sevika questioned, with what seemed to be her signature smirk on her lips.

God, that fucking smirk, it was lethal. You were convinced it could make your heart stop beating. With a smile, you pushed off the building and lay on your back, wading in the water with your arms, and raised your tail to the surface. The peachy-toned scales on your tail were a darker peach, like biting into a peach, almost orange. Your caudal fin and pectoral fins were a lighter peach, with a pink tone to it. But the whole tail shimmered and glittered under the moonlight like a diamond in the rough. Your eyes trailed over Sevika's face; the smirk that was there had significantly softened into a smile, a beautiful one at that. Her little gap between her two front teeth became visible and fuck if you didn't think she was stunning enough already? That only solidified the feelings you had for her.

"Do... you like it? Or do I just look like a fish? Because I mean... well, I am half fish. Technically, but also not really," you questioned, with some doubt laced in your tone. What if it freaked her out and put her off? You somehow deep down knew she wouldn't betray you and turn you into some sort of science experiment but how could you be 100% sure? Sevika took some time to trail her eyes up from your tail to your eyes, but once she did and saw the fear in your eyes, she responded immediately. "Peach... peach, you're... absolutely stunning. I've never, I've never seen anything quite like it..." The sincerity in her voice was certain, it left no room for doubt in your mind. She wasn't lying; you believed you were the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. You swam back to the edge of the research center and rested your arms on the edge, with your chin resting on your arms. "Thank you... I've never really spoken to a human, but I definitely think I got lucky." You graced her with a smile, dimples poking agaisnt your cheeks and that's when Sevika knew she was completely and utterly fucked...

Over the next few weeks, it became routine; every night, you'd wait at the surface of the center for Sevika, and you'd sit and chat for hours. To respect your species and, well... you, Sevika had chosen not to tell anyone about you. Secretly she was already possessive of you, she had found you. You were hers.. her discovery of course... she didn't want to share you with anyone else. Especially not her shitty male co-workers who would have no respect for you and couldn't possibly appreciate your beauty the way she did. Yes, the expedition was to find mermaids, but now she had solace in the fact that they were real; she didn't feel the need to expose your kind. She cared about you too much to betray you like that. Sevika knew if she had said anything, you'd become some sort of science experiment, which she didn't want.

Learning about how each other lived was fascinating. Over the past couple of days, you had heard Sevika complain about how the fresh food delivery they were supposed to have delivered had been held up, meaning she was currently living off of processed food. Living in the middle of the ocean when your originally from land definitely had it's disadvantages. You had taken the liberty of catching a fresh tuna for Sevika; you placed it on the edge of the center as you waited for her to arrive. A few minutes later, her large, unmistakable silhouette appeared from the door.

"Peach? You out here?" Unwillingly, your tail flipped in excitement, the thrash of water catching Sevika's attention. Your eyes met, and a smile tugged at your cheeks. "I'm right here! I got you something." You held up the tuna fish and wiggled it around in the air. "What's that, peach, hm? A present for me already?" She smirked and walked over, sitting by the edge like she does every night. "You said you didn't have any fresh food, so I caught you a fish."

Sevika's amused expression immediately softened. This girl was about to ruin all of Sevika's rules she put in place for herself. Love was dangerous; it makes you do stupid things. Yet, Sevika was ready to burn the world down for you. "That's... that's really sweet of you, peach... thank you." Her large hands wrapped around the tuna fish, and she placed it aside to cook later, which earned a confused look from you. "What is it, peach? You okay in there?" Sevika lightly splashed some water at you.

"You're not going to eat it? I thought you'd be happy to have something fresh." A slight pout formed on your lips. Did she not like tuna fish? Did she even like any kind of fish? You were so excited to get her something you hadn't thought about it. "It's great, peach. I'm gonna cook and enjoy it later, okay?" You nodded, accepting her reasoning; maybe she just didn't want it raw like you usually ate it. After all, you didn't exactly have fire in the middle of the ocean. You forced the thought out of your mind and focused on Sevika, her two large hands wrapped around yours. "Do you ever... wish you could see what I see? Like down here in the ocean?"

Her grey eyes looked down at you, trailing over your tail before meeting your eyes again. She sighed before responding, "I do, but that's not possible, peach. We don't have the technology to see the world the way you do." A long silence hung in the air before you responded. "You have scuba gear though, right? I've seen some humans swimming in the sea with those weird things on their face..." That earned a chuckle from Sevika; her shoulders shook with amusement. "Yeah, we have some equipment. I guess I could come for a quick swim." You didn't respond other than eagerly pushing her away to go and get the gear. Water splashed as your tail flipped in excitement.

With intertwined hands, the two of you glided under the water. Small bubbles escaped the top of Sevika's mask; she'd never seen anything like it. The deep abyss of blue surrounded the two as they easily moved through the water. There were so many amazing, unique things to see, but the only thing that caught Sevika's eye was you. It was always you. No matter what was around her, if you were there, that's where her eyes laid. The way your hair flowed in the water behind you as your tail propelled you forward, the way you smiled and showed your pearly white teeth every time you turned your head to look at her. The way you easily spun upside down and back upright through the water playfully, like it was easy... how could she deny that she was falling for you?

In turn, you were fascinated by the way her legs ferociously kicked behind her to keep up with you. How she held a hand on your waist to keep you close, protective so she didn't lose sight of you. It made your tummy flutter, a whole lepidopterarium of butterflies in your stomach. You didn't fail to notice how more bubbles escaped her mask when you looked at Sevika, her breathing picking up when your eyes met. She was really the most beautiful woman you had laid your eyes upon.

You two had swam and swam around until Sevika's oxygen tank was empty. She placed her mask on the edge of the center and took her tank off but remained beside you in the water. Sevika's hands moved almost automatically and found home on your waist, just above where your flesh met your tail. "It's beautiful, peach... absolutely stunning..." You had assumed she was talking about the swim, the ocean, and everything uniquely beautiful below the surface. But when her grey orbs remained firmly on your face, you knew that wasn't what she was talking about...

"It... it is really beautiful down there," you responded in regards to the ocean, hoping she might double down and confirm she was talking about you and not the vast ocean surrounding you. "I'm not talking about the ocean, peach; I'm talking about you. I can't... I can't be here with you and not tell you how absolutely captivating you are. I physically can't tear my eyes away from you; what are you doing to me?.." Sevika was honest, raw... and quite frankly, it was the most terrifying thing she had ever done. But the overwhelming need to be near you... to claim you as hers and only hers was overpowering any common sense she had left.

"I-.. I don't know, but what I do know is that I really, really like you... and that's not just because you're the first human I've spoken to, but because you're also really, really beautiful, and I hope... I hope we can keep doing this..." There was a hint of hope in your voice as you wrapped your arms around her neck. Moonlight bathed over you both as the night went on. What didn't go unnoticed was the way Sevika's eyes couldn't stop flicking between your eyes and lips. Her actions caused you to mirror hers; only now, you were openly staring at her lips. How the right-hand side of her Cupid's bow sat just higher than the left, a small but noticeable scar on her bottom lip, the chocolatey brown color of her lips looking divine. Your own bottom lip had found home between your teeth, you only realized when her lips curved into a smirk and your eyes finally moved back up to her eyes. "See something you like, peach?" The nod of your head was almost unstoppable. Your head moved before your mouth could quickly mutter a quiet "yes..."

At the nod of your head, Sevika took the opening; her hand found the back of your neck, and before you could respond, her lips were on yours. The water around you long forgotten, your lips instinctively moving against hers. Teeth and tongues clashing together in a perfectly messy rhythm, the kiss was wet, messy, but it didn't matter, not with how desperate you were to taste her, taste more of her. Sevika broke the kiss only to trail her lips and teeth over you jaw, the warmth of her breath causing shivers down your spine to your tail. A soft gasp fell from your puffy lips and her teeth sank into the soft, tender flesh of your neck. The feeling of your skin being pulled and sucked between her teeth was almost too much and Sevika had barley touched you, a soft moan escaped you as your arms tightened around her shoulders. You didn't need to look, you could feel her smirk agaisnt the heated, red skin of your neck.

Your tail instinctively forced its way between Sevika's legs, as soon as you did you felt her legs wrap around and the muscles squeeze together. A small whine left your throat as Sevika pulled back from your neck, "Peach... how- how do I make you feel good? I'm more than experienced with human anatomy but... fuck I don't know how and it's frustrating" Your slender fingers ran through her hair to calm her as you felt her hands tighten in frustrationon your waist, unfortunately you didn't exactly reproduce the same way meaning... sex was off the cards. Impossible. "We... we dont have intercourse like you do... I dont know Sevi..." That day day Sevika made a promise to herself and you- in her own head of course. That she would find a way to make you feel good, wether it be finding a way to turn you human of make some magnificent scientific discovery. She would do it, she had to. For you.

[therealsophiependragon]

okay but Mai did care. Like Mai gave many, many fucks about stuff. She's not someone who outwardly expresses a ton of emotion, but "I love Zuko more than I fear you" was not a one-off fluke, guys, it was a build-up.

I heard someone say a while ago that Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee are great representations of what women look like under the patriarchy. Azula becomes incredibly competitive and ambitious, the boss lady, pushing herself further than anyone else would have had to in order to get the respect of her father and his court. And she still has to work really hard for it, they constantly like question her and stuff which is very well-displayed in her opening scene. Not saying Azula's a victim guys. Please don't misunderstand me guys. Please don't mangle what I'm saying guys. But I firmly believe that a significant shaping of Azula was from her environment, and part of her environment was the Fire Nation's sexism.

Now Mai keeps her emotions in check and might be what a drunk guy on the street or an ex-boyfriend or a father might call an 'emotionless bitch,' whereas Azula is a 'psychopathic bitch' or a 'crazy bitch' which you know fair but also we're talking about Mai now. Mai grew up in an environment where a shit ton was expected of her and she had to respect the authority figures being her father and mother even though her father quite obviously didn't know things as well as she did. She had to clam up and keep quiet because that's what a lady was supposed to do, but she turned that silence lethal, and it isn't that she's numb or emotionless or doesn't care, she's just safer and taken more seriously if she's silent, and so Mai doesn't talk unless she has something to say.

Ty Lee is over-compensatingly feminine and girly, which is another way women act out under oppression. People think she's a ditz and even Azula underestimates and condescends to her at times, and maybe she acts this way because she genuinely feels like this is who she is, but sometimes when I see Ty Lee, I see myself in social situations. When people make me feel dumb, I automatically feel like I have to lean into that and make myself seem even dumber even if I'm not. I feel the need to giggle and tease and make self-deprecating one-offs about how I'm blonde or how I left my brain at home and all that shit, and I think Ty Lee does this too. Like a fear-response technique. And she acts this way a lot around Azula too which is telling because Azula embraced and sharpened a lot of traditionally masculine dispositions to use as weapons, and Ty Lee sees that.

So Mai and Ty Lee are really just protecting themselves I feel like. Not saying that they aren't being 'their true selves' onscreen or that, unafraid, they'd be completely different people than presented - there's actually evidence against this - but I'm sick of people presenting Mai as some emotionless and uncaring person who gives no fucks because that's not who she is. Istg like

[marchcozen]

I stop and admire the scenery, sometimes, and i never see it again. Sprawling, lush fields yearn graciously for the horizon, while tall, slim, off yellow monoliths strike down the attempt with an emotionless posture. Windows with no glass, with no meaning, no passerby or viewer to perceive any landscape, outside or in. desks and lamps, kitchens and bathrooms, decor all entailed, with no resident to neglect small daily uses, create stains and rips never to be redone. An entire city of bountiful resource, a haven for all, and taken by none. A small respite, a vigil of peace, ignored. For none with the self perceived sins of lethality, of the self made consequence of a war waged not by two parties, but one, could accept the warmth of a shelter made free. Those decided against themselves, decided against accepting anything, save the nook of misery, as home. The windowless sanctuary of peace, was never made for them.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 10

Part (10) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Sorry! I know I owe responses to that fluffy little holiday thing, but I really wanted to get this out, too! (Also... big sorry... you'll see why)

Warnings: mild suspense, vague injury descriptions, decent bit of cursing, minor character death (very minor), (is there a warning for a kid wielding a gun?)

WC: 3,403

Droids don’t need the light. Not like we do. In the darkness, only the automated sound of whirring gears and clacking metal narrate movements governed by near perfect synchrony. The silence that surrounded those movements was deafening. It was easy to forget just how dangerous those machines truly were when watching the incredible ease with which the soldiers of the GAR could tear through them. But up close, when nothing lay between us but darkness and an armor that suddenly felt far too thin, the droids were monstrous; emotionless; streamlined and refined toward a single purpose: destruction.

I tried not to think about the simple fact that the same was often said of the entirety of the clone population; how readily society at large welcomed beliefs of unthinking, unfeeling suits of armor in the stead of the very real people that armor concealed. I tried not to think about how that mentality might linger and fester into resentment and fear once the end of the war offered some hope of integration, nor of the unending hardships that were inevitable with such naïve mentality. As I sat crouched in the nook of the freezing ventilation shaft, I tried not to think about anything at all save the near impossible task of silencing my own heavy breaths, attention trained on the endless rows of automatons marching barely a handful of feet away from me.

Wrecker had made it to the maintenance closet several meters ahead, but I’d still been fighting to force the adhesive of the deceptively small explosive to seal with the chilled metal of the duct, and what few seconds that cost me proved just enough to force me to hide as the echoing orchestra of marching droids approached us. We knew they were coming. Thanks to Echo, we knew exactly when to expect every routine patrol scheduled to monitor these halls, but the sheer frequency of their presence was staggering.

Neither of us moved for several seconds after the last droid finally vanished behind the rear door.

“You alright?” Even whispered, my body tensed slightly at the suddenness of Wrecker’s voice calling through the speaker of my helm, and I had to release a quick breath before responding.

“Yeah.” I murmured, glancing back at the detonator as I carefully began easing my way out of the small shaft. “Had trouble getting this one attached, but looks fine now.” A quiet grumble reverberated around me, and I could clearly imagine the troubled frown tugging at his lips.

My eyes flashed to the timer in the corner of my HUD steadily counting down to the moment Crosshair was supposed to take out the decoy power transformer. We still had several targets to rig if we wanted to level the station in time.

Wrecker led the way forward without another word, quick strides shockingly silent. It would never cease to amaze me how easily the man before me could dance between the kind, boisterous goofball and this: lethal, efficient; movements far too quiet for the terrifying mass of his powerful form. I’d worked with astounding soldiers before, but these men were different. Boost, Comet, and Warthog were frightfully capable, but Wrecker and his brothers…

His hand flashed out, pointing to the spot he wanted the next charge placed. He didn’t pause before moving on to set his own, leaving me to my job without so much as a backward glance. Even now, after so many months of working with them, it still felt odd to be trusted so explicitly, but there wasn’t time for even a moment of self-doubt as I quickly dropped to a knee to begin working. Despite the utter simplicity of these explosives, still, Wrecker could finish two in the time it took me to prime one, but he showed no hint of impatience; merely moved on to the next spot until the room was cleared.

We both paused upon turning to the door. It was quiet. It shouldn’t be. By now, we should have been able to make out the distant chorus of the next patrol.

“Status.” Wrecker called, voice just loud enough to be picked up by the mic. My shoulders ached from how taut the muscles were. He didn’t talk like that, governed by that stark militaristic sharpness… not unless something was wrong.

“In position.” Crosshair responded coolly.

“En route.” Tech answered next.

“Wrecker, update.” Hunter’s order came in far crisper than the others, the Marauder’s comms undistorted despite the metal walls of the facility.

“Clanker’s missed a patrol. Pretty sure they haven’t noticed us, though.” He replied curtly, head pivoting behind us before turning back to the forward door as though half-expecting a troop of droids to come rushing in at any second.

“Crosshair, any change?” The Sargeant called. I could hear the growing tension in his voice and knew he was standing tensely over the intercom, hands grinding into the metal corners.

“No, but this sector isn’t supposed to have another patrol for over four more minutes.” Cross reminded him, voice low.

“Keep an eye on your escape routes,” Hunter instructed, “and report any more abnormalities.”

A series of ‘roger’s answer him in quick succession before Wrecker continued forward, heavy blaster balanced against his shoulder. My pistols felt miniscule in comparison, but I still held them at ready as he cracked open the door. Beyond was a cavernous room dotted with Separatist transports. If things went south, Wrecker and I would blow a series of bombs starting with two at either end of the massive bay, granting us an exit route while several other explosions went off at pre-set intervals to mask our escape. If it came to that, however, there was little hope in retrieving that little girl’s father…

“… don’t like this…” Wrecker muttered after muting his com.

“How many more do we have?” I asked, treading closer to him so my whispered words would reach him.

“Ten. Twelve if we wanna hit the control tower, but…” He let the thought trail off as he peaked around the corner of the doorway to stare at the massive sheets of metal suspended overhead on thick tracks.

“So, we finish those ten and re-evaluate.” I offered quietly. He didn’t respond for a long moment, the fearsome visage of that feral skull still studying the distant bay walls.

“Yeah…” He mumbled absently, but a few more tense seconds passed before he drew a quick breath and moved through the door, strides measured and quick, stance low.

Our HUD timers had been perfectly synced. I’d known that there would be no delay between that small clock striking zero and the distant rumble of an explosion preceding at least a momentary flicker of the lights. Still, my body snapped taut as the world around us trembled, even if only for a moment. And then the darkness descended in earnest.

Our visors were designed for this: to grant us clear images even in the darkest nightmares of distant worlds. Regardless, I felt myself tense, adrenaline flooding my chest as I studied every shadow of the now monochrome display before me. Already, the Separatist forces were responding, dozens of squads activating and filing across the vast expanse of the hanger in precise, unhurried movements. Several took positions at entry points about the bay, though most marched out of sight, undoubtedly en route to the now destroyed power station.

“Yuh got some fun headin’ your way, Cross.” Wrecker warned, large hand reaching into his bag for another charge, attention trained once more on the command post.

“They won’t find anything.” He responded haughtily, words only just betraying a slight breathiness as he sprinted back across the rocky outcropping surrounding the north end of the hanger.

“Imma see how many a’ these I can stick before the others get here.” There was a subtle glee in his voice, thrilled at the promise of even that simple challenge.

“I’ll keep watch.” I drawled slightly, the eyeroll audible amidst my quiet chuckle. That tension was still there; creeping across my skin and keeping the muscles stretching up my spine taut, but this was their world – our world: impossible missions with unending dangers in which we still managed to find some taste of joy.

“…Kriff.” Every wisp of that joy instantly went cold.

“Cross?” Hunter called quickly, voice full of the same sharp concern that turned my blood to ice. Wrecker had just begun setting the fourth detonator and visibly froze, waiting anxiously for a response.

“…trap… -utoff from… -ing around…” His rushed reply broke between bursts of static.

“Dammit, they’re trying to block your comms! Where are you?!” Hunter shouted. The distorted reply was too muffled for me to make out, but the pained shout that followed was nauseatingly clear. “I can’t reach you with the Marauder. En route on foot.” His words left in a growl, voice now muffled with that telltale distortion as he abandoned the protection of the ship, the sound of the ramp lowering in the background just loud enough for the mic to pick up.

I didn’t need to see Wrecker’s face to know he was struck with the same dread as me, and, with a sharp nod of his domed helm, motioned toward the rear wall of the hanger. I was already running when the first explosion erupted through the air, but the sudden scream that tore through the speakers was all I could hear.

“Crosshair!” His name shouted from me in a burst of panic, but his desperate cry didn’t stop. The natural rasp of his voice broke in choked gasps between sounds of an agony that left my skin crawling. Blasterfire shrieked behind me in rapid flurries. I didn’t bother looking back, certain that Wrecker was eagerly providing a distraction to cover my retreat, but the droids weren’t fooled.

A curse caught on my lips as I dropped into a sharp slide, just managing to dart behind a supply crate as a troop of B1s trained their sites on me, and the volley of shots that seared the metal casing left my heart racing even faster. My arm was moving before conscious thought registered what I was doing, hand snatching at one of the few remaining charges. I didn’t know if this would work, fully aware that some explosives were perfectly stable until intentionally set off with a detonator. Regardless, I launched the small device toward them, HUD automatically following my gaze to lock onto it as I raised my own weapons, standing to face down the dozen droids targeting me.

The scent of burnt plastoid filled my senses before noting the faint line of red seared into my shoulder pauldron as I pulled the trigger.

Ringing. By now, I recognized the disorientated daze of shellshock and clung to the sense of annoyance rather than any fear or pain lingering beyond that confusion. Move. There wasn’t time for this… Before the thoughts even solidified in my mind, I could feel my body struggling back to my feet, balance wavering precariously for several seconds even as I staggered forward.

“…!” A voice rang loudly around me, but it took a moment of actual concentration to truly hear him. “-oc! Wha’ happened?!” Wrecker. He was shouting. I glanced over my shoulder to see him quickly backtracking toward me and gave my head a hard shake in some vain effort to clear the lingering fog.

“…m… I’m fine!” I called out, lips sluggish. “Used a charge to… clear the path.” He looked toward me only briefly before returning his attention to the encroaching units. Still, I could see the air of hesitation in his movements, the reluctance to risk creating any additional distance between us, so I took that decision away from him, jaw set as I forced myself through the still smoldering crater blown into the thick wall.

Crosshair was still screaming, growled cries catching on choppy breaths muffled behind ground teeth.

“Hunter, do you have eyes on him?” I shouted, sprinting toward the cover of trees surrounding the station as I silently cursed the steep incline leading toward the ship.

“Not yet, there’s… - dammit -... They sent a kriffing… platoon after him.” I could hear the strain pulling at his every word, and that dread returned en force, fear spiking at the thought of how easily he could find himself incapacitated as well just from exacerbating his preexisting injuries.

“Echo and I can provide backup.” Tech offered. Even his voice held that deep worry.

“No – continue with the mission. We’ll be halfway to the Marauder by the time you’d even reach us.” He ordered. “Doc-”

“I’m already en route,” I interrupted quickly, “just send me your location.” He didn’t respond for a long moment, and I had to fight to keep from shouting my impatience.

That earlier fear was gone. I barely bothered glancing between branches in search of enemy troops, the threat of what danger my brief isolation from the others might pose forgotten in the echo of Crosshair’s pain. My entire focus was on reaching them as quickly as I could, cursing every fallen log and sleek boulder that hindered my progress.

“I’ve got him.” He was panting, pain clear in the breathy words, and my heart twisted at the endless possible reasons for that pain. The keening gasps still sounding from Crosshair’s mic were the only thing silencing some sharp rebuke demanding he stop. There was no right answer here; no way forward without the risk of a sacrifice I couldn’t begin to fathom.

“Might still be s… s’me droids… but think I got ‘m all.” His uncertainty was just as concerning as the slight slur dampening his smoky voice. That meant his focus was dwindling; that inhuman ability to feel the dance of electricity connecting the world around him was overcome by his own pain or exhaustion or something far worse.

“Dammit, Hunter! Just send me your location before you kriffing keel over!” I ordered harshly, no longer making an effort to mask that impatience.

“Tracker… tracker’s on… H… headed back.” Curses flowing unapologetically between ground teeth, I snatched the datapad from my waist, fingers stabbing at the screen far harsher than necessary as I locked in on his signal. The Marauder was just over a klick away, and Hunter’s signal was another half klick beyond that, speed frightfully slow as he made his way back.

“Talk to me, Hunter, or I’ll start using the karking pain scale questions.” I threatened, and was relieved to hear a huff of laughter. It was weak, but it was there.

“Damaged… damaged his helmet… Visor broke…” In an instant, that relief abandoned me. “Gave him… gave him what I had, but… it’s… it’s barely taking the e-edge off.” He panted.

“Burns?” I asked, straining to hide the depth of my fear at the very thought of what damage that might cause, but Hunter quickly dismissed that fear with something far worse.

“No… think it’s… There was a – a gas…” My stride nearly faltered. A gas… Chemical burns were far more difficult to treat…

“Listen to me: when you get him back to the ship, don’t try to rinse it out with water.” I instructed quickly.

“I kn- I know.” There was an unmistakable wheeze in the gasp robbing his retort of whatever annoyance he’d meant it to hold.

“What about you, Hunter? Were you exposed?” I made no effort to hide the harshness in my own voice, words quickly growing breathy as I sprinted from the base.

“N… no, my… my kit’s f-fine.” His response offered no taste of relief, the clear strain sown through each word quickly growing worse.

“Echo and I have secured a low-atmo speeder. We can reach you-”

“Ey, I think I see ‘im.” Wrecker interrupted.

“Ca- can you i-intercept?” Hunter’s vain attempt to maintain that indominable façade only further emphasized how just much he was clearly struggling.

“Uh… only if I start blowing stuff up early.” There was no glee in what should have been an overly eager plea, attention clearly torn between the task before him and worry for his brothers.

“Delay as – as long as you can.” Hunter ordered firmly. “Tech, Ech… Echo… con-continue a-approach.”

“Hunter, if you’re having trouble breathing again, you need to stop moving!” I ordered in a shout.

“Neg… neg’tive… Mar’der’s… in sight.” My lips curled into a snarl.

“I can’t carry you both, dammit!” There was a brief pause, and then,

“Roger.”

I was going to strangle him.

Sweat had long since soaked through my blacks. My muscles burned, blood like acid pounding through my veins, and I tried not to think about how loud my own breathing was, mic pointedly muted as I listened to quick bursts of communication bounce between the others illustrating the progress of a mission I struggled to find even a whisper of concern for. My own attention remained locked on the tracker beacon, noting how near to the ship Hunter and Crosshair finally were; how wretchedly slow their progress had become; how much distance yet lay between us as that accursed hill robbed my speed.

He didn’t check in when he finally stopped, their beacons stalling at the very foot of the ramp.

“Hunter, are you inside?” I asked. He didn’t respond. “Hunter, what’s your status?” I pressed, words growing harsher. Silence. “Hunter?! Cross, do either of you read me?!”

“The Marauder’s ramp appears to have lowered but hasn’t been closed since they arrived.” Tech’s voice was carefully even, but I could hear the faint rush of an anxiety that I had no doubt resonated between all of us.

“I’m almost there.” I assured them, and, mere seconds later, let out a sharp huff of relief upon finally seeing the very tip of the dorsal fin.

The first time I’d seen the complicated overlay of the HUD used by GAR equipment, it hadn’t been during my training to join the 104th. It was in the aftermath of a battle I’d only seen in the darkness of night, sneaking through ruined transports and far too much gore to ever be warranted under the guise of seeking peace. It was maybe the fourth such scene Emmy and I had visited. We didn’t even have a ship then; just us and a pair of overstuffed medbags with no thought toward secession or consequence or even what to do with those we tried to save.

We’d only found one soldier still clinging to life, and it had taken only moments to realize that nothing we did would save him from joining his brothers. He hadn’t blamed us. I think I wanted him to… but he merely got quiet when he understood… peaceful. He’d been a flirt, and I think we both fell in love with him a bit. He’d insisted we try his helmet on – had said something inappropriate about seeing his gear on a couple cute nurses. Neither of us corrected him, and I’d been shocked at the flurry of information that had bombarded me the instant it flickered to life before my eyes. He’d laughed. I’d never forget that laugh. It was free; weightless; haunting in a way that both crushed me and justified every risk we were taking in trying to offer what meager help we could. And then he'd died.

That nauseating hurricane of endless data and alerts was still just as overwhelming now as it was then, but I’d learned to filter it out, to prioritize only what was needed in that moment. When the sudden flash of a warning lit the screen, I didn’t hesitate; didn’t waste time for even a moment’s thought before my body dropped into a slide, just barely dodging the pair of blue bolts that screamed passed me as my hands instantly snatched the pistols from my hips, but then that wealth of data began to coalesce, and I quickly released my weapons, empty hands raising in surrender.

“Wait-wait-wait! It’s me!!” I shouted, wrenching the still flashing helm from my head, and my heart churned at the sight of the terrified girl cowering just inside the Marauder’s main cabin, at the horror and fear and overwhelming relief that left her near sobbing the instant recognition finally stole through her. Then I saw the two forms lying far too still at her feet. And that same terror ripped the air from my lungs in a sob of my own.

Next Chapter

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[shamrockqueen]

Predator in the desert

Chapter 3

Pairing : Winter soldier x reader (post apocalyptic AU)

Warnings : Desperation, starving behavior, references to war, duality of the mind, emotionless man

Word count : 2020

Chapter 1

Bucky MasterList

You stopped breathing, the ghost of an echo bouncing through your ears after he’d yelled at you.

Your eyes snapped from his cutting and cold gaze, further down to the glimmer of his fearsome metal fingers as they closed around the old brass knob on the door. The only opening to the room, the only way out, and you wouldn’t be able to reach it, let alone slip past his solid stonelike frame.

You weren’t ‘calm’ by any means, but he had your attention, and even as you continued to shiver, it was all he really needed.

“Are you hungry?”

You flinched as he spoke; his voice edged only with a lack of patience as it reached out to you with heavy hands to shake you from your reeling thoughts.

You didn’t answer just yet, feeling your pulse thrum along your skin wildly. You just laid there, stunned as you stared at those metal fingers tightening around the knob of the door and trying to ease your own breathing before it made you feel numb.

“I asked if you were hungry.” He was much more stern, and even a little louder this time, watching with equal disinterest as you gasped back and struggled to answer.

“Y-yes… I‘m hungry.”

You spoke weakly, your lips shaking and your eyes welling with a wet dribble of tears. Like a small break in the smallest of bones as you gave in to the absurdity.

Of course you were hungry. You’ve been hungry since you were a screaming infant, just as everyone doomed to a life in the wasteland had been. Food in any amount was a luxury, whether it’s warm meat and grains or smashed bugs you find crawling along the floor by your bedroll.

This promise of food without a single bat of his eye should have felt like a dream come true, but something in your stomach felt heavy before clenching with a sharp cramp. That familiar pang of hunger pains morphing viscerally into obvious fear as your guts knotted together.

This was the only moment in your miserable life that you didn’t crave food, as you were consumed only with dread.

You didn’t want to take anything from this unholy amalgamation of man and metal. It was like cowering beneath the boogeyman, a monster of jagged teeth and twisted limbs that could steal your last shred of innocence, only to find an unreadable being that looked no different from yourself. He didn’t wear enough of his lethality on his skin, leaving you to spiral at the possibilities of what these chains binding you to his lair really meant for your near future.

It was no better than being a rabbit caught in a cage. There is the offer of water and now food, but the danger of your captivity, just as the chain around your leg, was a staunch reminder that none of this would be out of kindness. There is no good reason that you are here—none that could be conceived as all the terrible reasons swarm your aching head.

His expression never seemed to change as he took in every reaction you gave him, seeming to read it like new data to further his own strange purpose. When he was finished searching your jumbled tomes, whether having found his needed information or losing interest, he dragged that door open and disappeared through it before shutting you back inside that room. Only this time, you were alone with the crushing silence he had once held above you.

A silence quickly broken by the hard clack of a lock turning shut in the flimsy wooden barrier this soldier had placed between you two.

He fit the stories from old fantasies of war. An old story long left covered in dust, detailing how both sides ate away at one another until the bones were bare and empty of their marrow. He bore the red star, the mark of a demon of irradiated sands. One head severed from its ranks meant two would splinter out in its place, biting and gnashing its way through the wasteland.

The great hydra was supposed to be dead, a final rest assured long before your own birth. How wrong they all were apparently, and as you recounted those scary fairy tales, your stomach twisted harder and harder.

You tried to steady your breathing, letting it stutter and shake before it finally met an even rhythm.

‘You really did need to calm down’ The traitorous thought was the last fly to buzz through your brain before you let the muscles in your shoulders fall loose to hit the floor.

Your ankle still felt heavy with its new iron cuff, and you struggled back onto your elbows and further onto your feet, the sound of the chain dragging along the wood the only noise left to taunt you.

Your eyes narrow at the brassy knob, a small spark of defiance finally igniting in your chest only to fall short of catching a flame.

You were frustrated at best, hot tears stinging your eyes before spilling out over your dirty cheeks.

‘Why me? For fucks sake, why?”

How were you significant enough to be stolen? Did he pity you, thinking that keeping you would be better for your well-being, like a lost kitten climbing among the rocks he had scooped up?

Why would a monster want to help you? Why would he bother to care for you when he could do what any other villain would do to others who strayed too far from home?

But, this room didn’t look like a pen to keep his livestock. It had a small window at its other end, barred on the outside of the glass for your protection. The bed wasn’t shabby, only worn, and with actual blankets and pillows.

If you were to be kept, you suppose he chose to keep you well.

You turned back to the door, its knob within reach, but you didn’t jump to futilely pull or tear at it. You reach forward, a shriveled shard of hope still tearing at your heavy heart as you slide your fingers around it.

You know it was locked; you heard it happen, but you still clung to the possibility of this being a terribly real nightmare instead. Maybe your mind would let you open the door, but as you twisted the handle, it of course did not budge.

You stood closer, your head falling to your chest as you pressed your fingers to the wood. Your mouth opened with a shaking exhale of an empty scream, and new tears flooded over to wash the rest of your grimy face.

You did not expect the door to push forward on its own, nearly smacking you in the face as it knocked you back. You land on the floor unceremoniously. Still so weak and unsteady, you weren’t even a suitable match for an old door.

The man was back, standing over you with a plate in his human hand. He sighed before setting the platter of promised food on the bed, stepping over you in the process.

He spoke evenly, saying, “I didn’t mean to hit you,” but his voice didn’t carry any ounce of guilt for knocking you back on your ass. Would this have been the first time he’d knocked you down, or was it simply the only time he hadn’t meant to do so?

“Are you alright?” he asked as he leaned over your crumbled form, reaching towards your reddened cheek where the wood had initially smacked you.

You immediately shied away from his touch but didn’t fight to scramble backward.

He leaned away but offered you his less harrowing hand to help you off the floor instead of leaving you to do so by yourself again.

You never answered his last question, but as he didn’t press further, it was possible that he wasn't really interested either way.

He gestured to the plate of food he’d set on the bed and said flatly, “Eat.”

You looked over at the plate still perched on a pile of blankets. A slab of cooked meat, diced cubes of root vegetables, and a mush of something boiled, green, and leafy. It was the best thing you’d ever seen.

Actual meat the size of your hand coupled with real vegetables possibly rich with those vitamins and mineral-things the doctor used to talk about. Whatever it was, it made your tongue wet as you swept it over your cracked lips.

A small part of you still wanted to be cautious, as another balled its fists in frustration from being kept away from a beautiful plate of healthy food.

You opened your mouth, only to choke back on the words with a wet cough. You sputtered again, crying like a sad child for him to witness before finally speaking.

“Are you going to drug me?”

"No,” he answered quickly and with little care.

You watched for any signs of a farce, a twitch of an eyebrow, a quirk of a lip, anything. His eyes held their dull, disinterested blue as he waited for you to make up your mind.

You ventured closer to the plate, pressing a dirty finger against the still hot morsel of meat. It was light in color, like white meat off a rabbit, but you needed to be certain before going past this thin line you had drawn for yourself.

Your lips stuck together as you nearly whispered a squeak of a few words, “Is it people?”

The ‘P’ was sputtered by the drop of collected tears, making the sound more pronounced as it left your lips.

“No”

You looked back at him at the subtle change in his voice. With one word, one syllable, it was oddly unmistakable. He sounded a little offended, and yet he didn’t lift a finger against you.

That last ‘no’ was all you needed before throwing yourself at the plate, scooping at the wet potatoes and greens with your fingers to wipe the tasteless sludge over your tongue in ecstasy.

You tore at the meat with your bare teeth like a hungry dog in a frenzy of unending starvation.

You weren’t human anymore; no longer yourself. It was shameful how you felt. In this moment, as you tore at a lump of fat with your back molar, you wanted this more than ever.

You wanted to be a pet if it meant the promise of this minimal care. You wanted to be kept; you wanted the fresh water and food; damned be the consequences.

You weren’t thinking clearly, not until you licked the last stain of grease and green vegetable smudge off the plate with your desperate little tongue. You hadn’t realized you were panting, gasping at the air, and holding the plate with white knuckles and numb fingers as if he could fly off and never return.

His expression had shifted for only a second. A split moment where his eyes widened a single centimeter before returning to their natural steely state. His shoulders stayed stiff with new concern. It was all a subtle change you had missed during your indulgence.

“Do you want more?” He asked, his voice still tainted with that unspoken concern.

You swear you could nearly feel your heart stop at just hearing those words. You were still desperate, and you nodded frantically.

He reached carefully towards you for the plate, giving you his metal fingers instead of the soft fleshy digits of his other hand. Possibly anticipating being bitten when pulling away the saucer. You let him take it from you, watching as he repeated his earlier actions of leaving and locking you inside the room.

There was a burn of shame somewhere in your stomach, but it was greatly overshadowed by a deep desire for sustenance. And, this man, what should be a monster in your eyes, was unbothered to fulfill such a desire.

You stood in place, not reaching for the door like the captive you are, not waiting on the bed like a puppy missing its master. But, by god, you wanted that fucking food.

Chapter 4

More post apocalyptic AU

Tags : @itsswritten @cjand10 @dear-lolita @took-a-wr0ng-turn @scott-loki-barnes @ihavetwoholesforareason @potatothots @toozmanykids @wintrsoldrluvr @heletsmelovehim

[jeremiahhawkinsfanfics]

VIKTOR’S BACK OPERATION 🩻💉😱

Extract from Jayvik Loving is Caring - Chapter 7

Read the whole fic on AO3

The Piltover clock tower chimed six times, each ring reverberating in his skull. Viktor’s eyelids grew heavy, the pull of sleep too powerful to resist. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but his mind was caught in a whirlwind of memories. As the tide of sleep surged over him, it dragged him into unconsciousness, his lamp still burning bright and the pencil slipping from his fingers.

Through the fog of his fevered dreams, memories began to leak in. He was fifteen again—bent over his cane, his back twisted in pain. He stood in Singed’s laboratory, barely clothed, surrounded by instruments that seemed as ancient as they were terrifying. The glint of copper screws, rows of syringes, and sharp, gleaming scalpels shimmered on the counter.

“On the table.”

The Doctor’s voice, cold and commanding, echoed through the cavernous room. His words repeated in a never-ending loop, an eerie chant that made Viktor's skin crawl. His pulse hammered in his ears, drowning out all other sounds, while his breath came in shallow gasps. Sweat slid down his body, each drop a cold reminder of his fear.

He looked at the table. He had seen so many test subjects lie on it… and he saw what happened to them. His heart pounded so loud in his ears that he could barely hear anything else. His breath was short, nearly erratic, and sweat trailed down his body in thin, tickling streams that felt like crawling spiders on his skin.

In lethal silence, the Doctor was preparing his tools, calmly filling tubes with strange liquids, and sharpening his scalpel.

Viktor’s eyes were drawn to Rio — swollen and floating in formaldehyde — and every instinct in him screamed to run.

Run as far away from here and never come back.

Run before it was too late.

Run for his life.

But Viktor couldn’t run. His back — his damned, traitorous back — left him no choice.

“Do you need help?” the Doctor asked, his voice unbothered by the terror Viktor was trying desperately to mask.

Viktor took a shaky breath and forced himself to ignore all his most critical instincts. “At least if it fails, I’ll die. Not like Rio” he thought bitterly. Cold comfort.

With every ounce of willpower his fifteen years of existence had to offer, Viktor stepped forward and climbed onto Doctor Singed’s operating table.

“Lay down.”

His muscles locked up. His whole body fought against the command. But he forced his limbs to obey, folding onto the cold metal surface, lying on his stomach. Never in his whole life had he ever felt more vulnerable, laid bare under the cold, emotionless gaze of a man that he had seen perform countless unspeakable experiences before. His hands trembled, and he clenched them into fists so tight his knuckles went white.

“Does your mother know you’re here?” he asked, checking the long — far too long — needle of a syringe.

“Y-yes…” Viktor stammered. “T-Told her. Said I’d be b-back home… late.”

“You do realize you’re not going home tonight?”

The words ran like ice through his spine, chilling him from tailbone to crown.

“I… I…”

“If the operation is successful, it will take a few days to heal. She will worry.”

Viktor’s words caught in his throat, suffocating him.

Then came the leather restraints, clicking around his limbs, pinning him to the operation table like that poor little larva that didn’t survive its painful vivisection. He was trapped.

His stomach churned. Viktor clenched his jaw, fighting the rising nausea, fighting the panic that screamed for him to flee. All alarms rang full force in his brain. Get out. Run. Scream. He could feel Rio’s presence behind him. His eyes burned, but he refused to cry.

“Shhhh… It’s okay… I will tell her.” the Doctor’s voice slithered around him, meant to soothe but only amplifying his terror.

Cold, gloved fingers traced the curve of his twisted spine. Viktor squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the sensation.

“You understand that even once this is done, it won’t be straight, right? It will take months to correct your posture. You’ll have to wear the corset I built—for the rest of your life.”

Viktor nodded, his teeth clenched so hard that he feared they might crack.

“Out loud.” Singer ordered.

“Yes. I. Understand.” Viktor’s voice shook, but he forced the words out.

He was craving the chemical oblivion of anaesthesia to deliver him from this devastating fear.

Just start already. Let the gas knock me out.

“Good.” Singed replied, satisfied.

Singed continued to move slowly around the table. Viktor could hear the metal and glass cluttering moving around him. Not seeing him was even worse.

Then the small gas mask appeared in the Doctor’s hand. Viktor’s heart raced, and his breath caught in his chest as Singed methodically fitted the mask over his face.

“Deep breaths”

Viktor obeyed, but the gas burned as it filled his lungs, acrid and foul. He fought the urge to cough, feeling his body begin to shut down as the chemical fog filled his senses. The air in the mask grew thick, suffocating.

“Janna, let me fall asleep. Please. Let this be over.”

Over the wild beat of his heart, his hurling instincts, and his breathe echoing in the smelly mask, he could overhear the countdown of Singed echoing endlessly on the walls of the cave.

For an endless, terrifying second, Viktor realized this may be the very last thing he would hear in his entire life.

“Janna, please…” he begged in silence, as he felt chemical coma swiping him away. “Please, let me live…”

Suddenly, knocks resonated through the cave – strong, heavy… alien.

More knocking, sharper this time. Someone was pounding on a door. But… Singed’s lab never had a door.

A voice broke the thin veil of sleep — faint at first, then clearer, louder

“Viktor? Are you in there?”

“Jayce?” Viktor’s thoughts stuttered in disbelief.

The dream twisted and shifted, everything spiralling out of control — and Viktor fell.

He jolted awake, breathless, eyes wide with fear, his face and neck slick with cold sweat.

He was back in his dorm. His room. Not in his mentor’s laboratory.

A trembling hand pressed against his chest, feeling the frantic thud of his heart.

He was safe.

He was alive.

Thank you for reading 😊

Read more on AO3

[threepandas]

The Vod's List: Part 3

The Separatist Army tries invade the Techganic homeworld and DIES SCREAMING.

I... I am cackling like a broken laugh 'track, in a low Senatorial staff seating area. Pretty sure everyone thinks I've lost my chips. But... BUT THEY DON'T GET IT! It's so FUNNY!? Oh Bones and Blood! Oh karking STARS!!! Of all the kriffing PLANETS to PHYSICALLY INVADE with DROIDS!!!

DROIDS!

I am wheezing. Gasping for air. Slowly tipping out of my chair as I all but seize silently in spasms of sheer, incredulous, amusement. Oh Stars, I'm gonna die. My gut is on fire and I DONT CARE. Droids! Just... just DROPPED UM right into the capitals like "here ya go! Surrender flesh bags!"

Pfffahahahahaha!

I finally slip, only for a gloved hand to catch my shoulder gently, keeping me from crashing to the floor. A calculated step and lift, brings my shoulder to brace against the side of familiar armor. A guard. I manage to glance up through my incoherent laughing fit. I know that armor!

"Fox!" I grin, glad I am starting to be able to tell the gaurds apart. It always felt rude to have to keep asking their names, even when I by all rights SHOULD already know them. "Good morning."

"Ma'am." He nods. I still don't get why people think they're 'emotionless'. Even through the voicecoder, his voice is warm. "Funny joke?"

"The Separatists invaded my planet." I laugh. At his questioning head tilt, I grin MEANLY from behind my mask. "Remember how we met? And you got infected? EVERYONE on my planet is some version of carrier, either Organic or Technological. Depending on where those droids land? They are either FOOD or free scrap metal. The Collective will EAT them. And folks back home?"

I glanced around, trying to find the room's cameras. Fox casually pointed before stepping between it's line of sight and me. Kriff he was so cool. I grabbed one of the old datapads I was supposed to dump in the recycler after my break. No one would miss if I threw one in the biohazard shoot instead... probably.

I turned it on. Showing it worked. A perfectly functioning, if old, datapad. Then? I listened to that old, old, OLD instinct in the back of my head that karking HATED technology. That honestly would be happier living in a stone shack on a distant moon, surrounded by growth. That could, at a glance, pick apart any given peice of technology's weak points.

Not to slice it. Or IMPROVE it. But to BREAK it. Irreparably.

My eyes found the weak point in the screen almost immediately. A point where fingers had worn it thin. Smack! I cracked it against the table, like an animal trying to open trying to open a nut. It cracked. And that was all I needed. All ANY of us would ever need, really.

Just One Little Crack.

I pulled off my mask, knowing my face was probably doing that... THING. That "super intent Murder Hunter" thing that we all do, when our instincts engage. But I wanted to show Fox. I trusted him. So I flexed my jaw and thought of the lift, of how me met, the STRESS. Just enough to get a bit of drool.

Then... I let it drop onto the screen.

The reaction, was of course, IMMEDIATE.

The datapad hissed and squealed, screen glitching violently. I carefully put it down, familiar with what was about to happen. Fox... was not. He watched. Frozen. Entranced. As the datapad burned and melted from within. Was CONSUMED. As my nanites wrecked hell in their final moments before dying, no longer supported by my body. Some of course, simply falling dormant.

Those were the lethal ones. The trap for future Collective members trying to reclaim tech. It's why all infected materials had to be treated as a biohazard. Those nanites stayed viable for upwards of a century AT LEAST. Several, in the right condition.

So droids? Ha! We were BIOENGINEERED to fight "droids"! We WERE the original GAR. What was that Human saying? "Nothing new in the Galaxy?" That.

Fox was taking even, measured, breaths. Clenching and unclenching his hand. His voice sounded... strained, as he agreed. That, yes. We WERE very, VERY alike. And that that was FASCINATING. Could his spit do that now too?

I... didn't know. Huh.

I blinked. First up at him. Then down at the 'pad. I hadn't considered that. Kriff. Well THAT was irresponsible of me. Yeah, yeah we should probably schedule some Techganic 101 lessons, shouldn't we? Since... you know, assuming you SURVIVE infection and first "heal"? It's kinda a one and done sort of thing.

You can't get... double infected? It very much IS a you ARE or you AREN'T a carrier. And even THEN... one of two kinds, which CAN NOT peacefully coexist.

Plus... since it's adapted to the Guards biology, a spread would be SUPER easy?

.........I..... I SHOULD tell someone.

But what would happen to Fox? I'm not blind. People aren't exactly... KIND to Clones. Would they decide its just easier to get rid of him? My gut say probably. Experience says likely. I've barely even STARTED working at the Senate and... well...

Maybe I should keep my mouth shut. WE should keep our mouth shut.

"This time, I'll be the one looking out for YOU, kay Fox?"

"Of course. I'll leave my self in your capable hands. I have no doubt... I'll learn A LOT."

There is something intent about the way he stands, the way he's bracketing me into my chair. The almost soft, warm but cloying quality to his voice. Like he's trying not to make it obvious he's handling me. Like I'm some import dignitary he wants to avoid upsetting. But one he LIKES. It's strange... I'm certain I'm missing something...

At least I have plenty of other Guards around to ask.

[thetreehousechronicles]

Teenage Nigel Uno – GKND Era Headcanons

The Perfect Soldier, But Not the Same Kid: The GKND trained Nigel to be a leader, but in their own way. He’s more calculated, emotionless, and efficient, almost unrecognizable from the impulsive, passionate leader he once was.

Memory Gaps That Haunt Him: While his memory is erased, certain things still feel off. He doesn’t know why he reacts strongly to Earth-related things or why his chest tightens when he hears the name “Sector V.”

Cold, But Not Cruel: Nigel follows GKND orders with precision, but deep down, he hesitates at extreme cruelty. He won’t question orders outright, but sometimes, he finds himself pulling punches or making decisions that unknowingly go against GKND doctrine.

The Name ‘Uno’ Means Nothing (Or So He Thinks): He doesn’t even remember his last name at first. When he hears it from an Earth operative, something in his gut twists, but he dismisses it as irrelevant.

Encounters with His Old Friends: When facing former KND members, there’s an unsettling familiarity in their faces. He chalks it up to déjà vu, but something about the way they look at him—like they know him—shakes him to his core.

Ruthless in Battle, But Hesitant Against Certain People: Against most operatives, he’s relentless. But against Hoagie, Kuki, Wally, or Abby? His attacks are precise, but never lethal. His hesitation costs him more fights than he realizes.

A Deep Hatred for Earth (That He Doesn’t Understand): The GKND drilled it into his head that Earth is a lost cause, filled with adults who corrupt children. Yet, whenever he sees the planet from space, he feels something—a sadness he can’t explain.

His Name is Just ‘Numbuh 0.1’: The GKND gave him a new designation: Numbuh 0.1, a special rank among their elite forces. He no longer refers to himself as Nigel Uno… but sometimes, in his dreams, he hears the name.

Abby is the One Who Shakes Him the Most: He doesn’t know why, but when he sees Numbuh 5, something deep inside him hurts. Her voice, the way she looks at him—like she’s disappointed—it rattles him more than any battle ever could.

The GKND Keeps Him on a Short Leash: While they praise his skills, the GKND monitors him carefully. They know Earth operatives have gotten close to breaking through to him before, and they cannot risk that happening.

The More They Try to Bring Him Back, The More He Pushes Away: The harder his old friends fight to make him remember, the more aggressively he rejects them. He doesn’t understand why they care so much, and it only makes him double down on his loyalty to the GKND.

Deep Down, He’s Lonely: The GKND treats him like a weapon, not a person. He doesn’t realize how much he misses being treated like a friend—until Earth operatives try to remind him.

He Hears Voices in His Dreams : Not actual whispers, but feelings. Laughter, the distant sound of treehouses, the warmth of a friendship he doesn’t remember. He wakes up feeling off but doesn’t understand why.

The First Time He Says “I” Instead of “We” is a Turning Point: GKND operatives are trained to refer to themselves as part of a collective. But in a moment of hesitation, in a fight against his old team, he slips and says, “I don’t—” instead of “We don’t—”. It’s small, but it’s the first crack in his programming.

Fragmented Memories of Sector V: He has vague, incoherent memories of his childhood friends. Their voices feel familiar, but their faces and names are lost to him. It’s like remembering a dream—just out of reach.

The Nigel They Knew is Still There: Deep down, the old Nigel still exists, buried beneath layers of memory wipes and GKND conditioning. However, breaking through is difficult, as he’s been trained to dismiss his past as false and trust only what the GKND tells him.

Seen as a Traitor: To the KND, he’s the ultimate betrayal—one of their greatest operatives now fighting against them. To the GKND, he’s a soldier with a dangerous past. No matter where he stands, he’s an outcast, trapped between two worlds.

[tayraedoll]

Ma Meilleure Ennemie Chapter 5- Into the Lion's Den

You're fired! Or maybe not?

TW: Swearing

Series Masterlist

You imagined that the trek to Kaiba’s office felt similar to a walk to the gallows. Was this how the Salem witches felt before they were burned alive? Heart racing, mind reeling with all the things they could have done differently, icy dread running up their spine? Wondering how much it would hurt when they met their inevitable demise?

You were taken aback slightly upon entering the CEO’s domain; it felt much more- homey?- than you had imagined. Light wooden bookcases framed the window in the center of the far wall, a cherrywood desk sat at the center of the room, and the floor was made of maple. The chair behind the desk and the couch in front of it were a deep, mahogany leather; the bookshelves were filled with classic literature and philosophical works; and a random old-fashioned Westminster globe sat to the right of the desk. 

What, did this fucker think he was some sort of pirate captain now?

The CEO sat in the chair behind the desk, steepled his fingers together, and glowered at you as you took your seat on the couch. You chewed the inside of your cheek before sighing, the last thing you wanted to do was kiss this man’s ass; but after the stunt you pulled, you really did not see another choice. 

You opened your mouth to begin your apology but Kaiba just held up a hand. “Save it”, he barked at you, making your mouth snap shut. “You’re fired”, it was curt, cold, and emotionless- absolutely final and downright lethal in delivery. 

All manner of arguments ran through your head, there were all sorts of things you wanted to say- really, if he hadn’t been such a jerk, you wouldn’t be in this mess right now. 

But you had to own up to your own mistakes, you were ultimately the one who let him goad you into sabotaging yourself. Besides, there was no arguing with Seto Kaiba. The bitter tang of disappointment hit, thoughts of what could have been played over in your mind, and tears stung your eyes. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying here; you swallowed thickly around the lump in your throat and slowly nodded your head, “I understand.”

Cerulean eyes widened slightly before narrowing again, suspicious of your lack of argument. You stood stiffly, not quite able to meet his eyes, “Thank you for the opportunity”, before turning to walk out. Just as you opened the door, a dark chuckle came from behind you.

“That’s it? A feeble show of gratitude? I haven’t been this disappointed in quite a while Y/N.”

You clenched your jaw, your hand tightening on the door. You struggled to keep your voice even as you kept staring straight ahead, refusing to turn back to him, “Well, you have always been a hard man to please. Seems like you are disappointed in everything anyone ever does.”

“Hmm”, Kaiba hummed ambiguously, “And here I thought that you actually might have had it. Clearly, I am doing you a favor by letting you go now.”

You slammed the door shut again before turning on the CEO, absolutely seething, “What the fuck do you want from me Kaiba?!”

A sadistic smirk formed on the brunet’s face, “Well, I wanted you to do your job. But, now that you no longer work for me, I no longer care what the hell you do.”

You scoffed, “Well, isn’t that rich? You know what I think? It never mattered how well I performed for you; you’ve been hellbent on making this job miserable for me since the moment you found out about me in the debriefing. Are you really so much of a control freak that one back-up duelcaster brings out the absolute worst in you?!” You chuckle solemnly, “My most sincere condolences go out to Ishizu for dating a monster as vile as you.”

Kaiba stood abruptly, hands slamming down onto the desk, body poised like an animal ready to attack. “My relations are no concern of yours. They most certainly aren’t yours to scrutinize with the masses while on MY channel during MY duel. Do I make myself clear?!” There was a nearly imperceptible tremble to his voice as he struggled to contain his rage. As you stared one another down, it dawned on you that this was a particularly sensitive subject for the CEO. You thought about how he was never seen with a partner, there was no evidence of any romantic involvements outside of Ishizu accompanying him at formal events. As you mulled this enlightenment over, you thought this quite strange. For all his faults and piss-poor attitude, it wasn’t like Kaiba didn’t have his merits. Hell, just being a billionaire often seemed enough to have people falling over themselves to get a chance at romance. And yet, not a single story of any love affair- sordid or otherwise-  with the most powerful man in all of Japan ever surfaced. Either Kaiba never had any relationship outside of whatever was going on with Ishizu, or he made sure no one ever talked about their experience with him. Your reporter instincts were firing on all cylinders- he was hiding something- and whatever it was, he was desperate to keep it a secret. 

You sighed and relaxed your posture, “You’re right,” you sunk into the couch, making yourself small and nonthreatening (not that this man didn’t tower over you to begin with). “I’m sorry for bringing up the rumors of your relationship with Ishizu while duelcasting. It was unprofessional and was none of my business. My actions were childish- reckless even- but I hope you can forgive me.”

The blue-eyed man visibly relaxed, although he did not sit down. He continued to stare down his nose at you, “Your apologies don’t change a thing. As a KaibaCorp employee, the press will take your comments as all the confirmation they need about my and Ishizu’s relationship status.”

“I could go on the record, make an official statement retracting my previous comments”, you suggested. 

Kaiba shook his head, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose like he was getting a headache, “No, that would only make them doubt your credibility.”

“And why do you care about my credibility? You’ve already fired me.”

“Because I hired you to begin with!” he snapped as he opened his eyes to continue scowling at you. “Questioning your character means questioning mine. Which brings me to our next order of business”, Kaiba reached into his desk and threw a folder at you, which you barely caught out of surprise. “Just sign it and get out.”

You looked over the document and scowled, “A fucking NDA?! You can’t be serious!”

“You will tell anyone who asks that you left KaibaCorp voluntarily. I don’t have time for reporters to ask questions as to why the first all-female duelcasting duo broke up after one day.”

“Tch. Do you make all employees you fire sign this? Is this how you avoid getting sued for a hostile work environment? Because I find it hard to believe no one has filed any lawsuits against you.”

Kaiba threw a pen onto his desk, “Just fucking sign it and leave!”

You chuckled, “Do you make your lovers sign these as well? Man with an ego your size has to be compensating for his tiny-”

“YOU CAN’T FIRE HER!!” you were cut-off by Mokuba throwing the door open and shouting at his brother.

Kaiba had an annoyed glower on his face- though you didn’t know if he was annoyed by the comment you were about to make or his brother trying to tell him what to do. “And why the fuck can’t I fire her, Mokuba?” 

Mokuba spoke rapidly, barely stopping to take a breath, “The ratings are in! Y/N and Emi’s viewership was TRIPLE that of any other duelcasting team we have. America’s viewership was up 24 percent overall. But, most importantly, overall female viewership was up 34 percent! Every single age demographic is up, but the 20-30 age range was highest at 53 percent.” 

If Kaiba was impressed, he did a great job hiding it; meanwhile, your heart was in your throat after hearing how many people- especially other young women- watched your first duelcast. The CEO cleared his throat, “It’s too bad Y/N has already been fired. We can hire another woman to take her place to placate the viewers.”

Mokuba shook his head so vigorously you were worried he’d snap his neck, “Nuh huh big bro! They don’t want just anyone- they want Y/N!” Mokuba cast his phone onto the TV screen and began scrolling through several pages on various social media platforms and headlines from the press.

American duelcaster makes waves in Domino City

World’s first all-female duelcasting team sets viewership records

SHEDuelist117: OMG!! It’s FINALLY happening! The GIRLS are taking the booth! 

#Emi Ito #Y/N L/N #YASQUEENS #WhoRunTheWorld? #Girls! #BattleCityReunion

TheRealDMGirl: YOOO! Did this girl really just bring up Wheeler’s balls?! 😂 DEAD!

#BattleCityReunion #Y/N L/N #BestDuelcaster

MakoShark011: The tides are changing! Great job Y/N!

ESPRobbinUrW: Kaiba hiring someone with a sense of humor? Did NOT see that coming!

Rivalshipper100: Cannot wait to watch the Yugi v Kaiba duelcast with the girls!

#Rivalshipping #We all know it will be these two in the final #BattleCityReunion

Kuribohlover224: KC Barbie! KC Barbie! KC Barbie!

KC Barbie is trending now

Your hand shot up to your mouth, tears springing in your eyes at the sight of so many positive comments about your duelcast with Emi. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think your reception would be this overwhelmingly warm. There was just one problem now- the status of your job.

Kaiba read through the headlines and posts with a blank, unreadable expression; his hands folded and pressed to his lips in contemplation. Eventually, he sighed and turned back to you and his younger brother. “If anyone questions you about your comments about Ishizu and I, you will say ‘no comment’ and leave the interview immediately. You are never to speak of my personal life ever again, you will be impartial during your duelcasts, and you will stick to the script when prompted. Am I clear?” He spoke slowly and with authority, like a mob boss making demands so you wouldn’t get iced. 

You couldn’t help the smile that slowly stretched across your face, you gave him a two-finger salute “Sir, yes sir!”

Mokuba leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Let’s go before he changes his mind!” He grabbed your hand and rushed for the door.

“One more thing.”

Both you and Mokuba froze and slowly turned back to the Tony Soprano cosplayer.

“Kindly refrain from bringing up Wheeler’s balls in any capacity ever again. I don’t care to fucking hear about them.”

You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you saw his lips twitch upwards ever so slightly as he finished that statement. You gave him a quick nod of your head before Mokuba was pulling you through the corridors of the blimp once again. “Dude, you are SO lucky he likes you!”

You scoffed, “Please, he hates me! I was totally fired before you saved my ass! Thank you for that by-the-way.”

“If he truly wanted to fire you he wouldn’t have changed his mind! Nothing changes Seto’s mind once it’s made up. I doubt he actually wanted you to leave, he was probably just making a point to scare you and keep the other duelcasters in line.”

You stopped abruptly, yanking Mokuba to a halt, “Are you sure? If he likes me he certainly has a shitty way of showing it!”

The younger Kaiba chuckled and pulled you along to the dining room again. Still looking straight ahead, he responded, “Seto has never been good at portraying emotions outside of disgust and animosity. It’s been over 20 years, and he still has a hard time showing he likes Yugi and the gang besides making light-hearted banter and insults. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about them.”

You chewed your lip as you contemplated this revelation, you were still deep in thought when you and Mokuba reached the ‘Nerd Herd’s’ table.

“Well look who it is! Our lady of the hour!” Duke announced your presence.

Téa smiled brightly, “You were amazing today! We are all so proud of you!”

You blushed, “Thank you all, it really means a lot to have all of your support- oh shit! Speaking of support!” You frantically fished out your phone which you had pointedly ignored all day. You winced, Leo had been blowing up your phone since you signed off. “Would you guys mind meeting my best friend?”

Everyone enthusiastically agreed; not even two seconds after pressing call, you were met with the thunderous clap of Leo’s voice, “BIIIITCH!! It’s about time you called me back! You KILLED it today! I’m so proud of you I’m going to cry. My little baby is off terrorizing Kaiba Corp!”

Resounding laughter echoed across the table, you could only giggle along with them. “Well, you certainly cannot say I didn’t try my hardest to get fired. Got my ass handed to me by Kaiba for those comments made during his and Ishizu’s duel.”

“Don’t sweat it N/N, we all say shit we regret on air. It’s all part of the process of growing into your own, learning who you are on camera.”

Joey piped up, “If you ask me, Rich Boy deserved it. You didn’t even say anything bad!” 

You shrugged, “I still regret prying into his and Ishizu’s privacy like that. It was uncalled for, and I did it with mal-intent. I want to build people up, not tear them down.”

Yugi smiled sweetly at you, “It takes a big person to admit their mistakes, even bigger to learn from them. You have a bright future and career ahead of you, don’t let this one mistake make you doubt yourself.” He reached a hand out to clasp your shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze. You smiled back and squeezed his hand to show your gratitude for his words of wisdom.

“I am proud of you N/N, and you should know you had Nathan sweating buckets today. He is definitely regretting not making you a duelcaster sooner. Now, I gotta go; it’s only 5 AM here!”

“Thanks Leo! Please tell Dwayne to go out for a walk, I know he could use the vitamin D!” 

Leo laughed, “Will do babe! You have a relaxing night; bring that boss bitch energy back tomorrow!” With that, he hung up.

“He sounds nice!” Yugi stated cheerfully.

You hummed, “Yea, Leo has been there for me since I started at Duelist America right after college. I owe him big time, I wouldn’t be here without his support all these years.”

The whole gang exchanged knowing looks with one another, they definitely understood what you meant.

“So!” You continued, “Are you three ready for the big day tomorrow?”

“Oh honey, I’ve been waiting to kick these boys’ butts for over 20 years now! Of course I’m ready!” You couldn’t help but giggle at Mai.

“Rich Boy ain’t gonna know what hit ‘im!” Joey cracked his knuckles.

You turned to Yugi, who only nodded with a smile “It’ll be fun!” Not only was he the King of Games, but he was the King of Humility as well.

“What about you Y/N? Are you ready for tomorrow?” Téa asked.

“Yea! But I’m also a bit nervous. Apparently, my outfit today earned me the nickname of KC Barbie. The name’s even trending right now! Unfortunately, I do not think my plain black pantsuit is going to have the same appeal and I’m already going to let my newfound fans down”, you sighed.

“I’m sure one of us has something you could wear!” Serenity exclaimed.

Mokuba chuckled and pulled his wallet out from his pocket, “Oooorrrrr, we could just buy you something to make sure the nickname sticks!”

Your eyes bugged out of their sockets, “Oh no Mokuba! Thank you, but I can’t accept you spending money on me!”

“Y/N, sweetie, when a rich man offers to buy you clothes- you just smile and say ‘thank you’!” came Mai’s exasperated voice.

Mokuba was undeterred by your denial anyways, he already had his phone out and was looking at outfits that would cost an ungodly amount of money. He was quickly joined by the three girls as they discussed what would look good on you.

“Wait, we are on a blimp. How are you planning to get whatever you buy up here?” you ask confused.

The billionaire shrugged nonchalantly, “I’ll just have the drones fly it up.”

“YOU HAVE DRONES THAT CAN GO THIS FUCKING HIGH?!!”

Hours later, you were still awake in your bed. You stared at your phone, at the number you had long since memorized, at all the blue bubbles that have gone unanswered. You gave an irritated sigh, rubbing your face as you tried for the 20th time to type a damn text message.

You wouldn't believe what happened today

No- stupid!- you tried again.

I finally made my dreams a reality

Nope, not right either.

Japan is pretty nice

FUCK!

I JUST WANT YOU TO BE PROUD OF ME!!

You groaned and threw your phone on the bedside table- to Hell with it anyways. You curled in on yourself and grabbed your pillow before screaming into it in frustration. After taking a few calming breaths, you finally drifted off to sleep-

Completely unaware of the other person still awake on the blimp, who was up in his office watching the reports and highlights from your duelcast.

[radiance1]

"There is two of you."

Logos leaned back in his seat, resting his head against his fist as he stared at a screen displaying Pathos, currently being buried beneath a mass of different ghostly animals. "That there is."

Distain crossed Damian's face. "Who in their right mind would ever clone the likes of you, brother?" He waved a hand at the screen, a small flash of envy that crossed his heart over seeing the clone buried beneath a mass of fluff, before blinking, and jerking his head and Daniel's direction. "Full offense."

"None taken." Logos's voice was cold and emotionless, containing a more mechanical edge due to the voice changer installed in his gas mask. "Pathos is not my clone, he is half of me." Logos raised his other hand before Damian could speak. "We were torn apart, in case you were wondering."

Damian hummed, moving his eyes away from the screen and around the lab. Giving a begrudging nod at the extreme cleanliness, and eyeing a few of the tech left around, before turning back to his twin with a raised eyebrow. "I can't imagine the reason you called me here was for a mere chat."

Logos nodded. "Pathos wishes to become a hero, yet I have a different goal." Logos stood up from his chair, walking over to Danny until he was relatively close and held out a hand. "Such that I am unable to watch over him at every turn, so, dear brother. Will you look over him in my stead?"

Damian stared at the outstretched hand, before back at Daniel's gas mask covered face. His face was calm as he stared back at his twin, before clicking his tongue. "Tt. As pathetic as always. Such incompetence that you need others to clean up whatever mess your other half will surely bring." Damian crossed his arms, glaring at his twin.

"I will not be that person, Daniel."

Logos hummed. "The probability of you saying no was quite high, so I am not surprised." He walked past Damian, beckoning his twin with a hand to follow as he stopped at a nearby table, quickly gathering a few items he sought after. "These are the objects that will 'sweeten the deal' as some would say."

Said objects looked to be a few buttons, a ball, a laser pointer, and an arm bracer.

"And you expect me to accept to watch over your other half, for mere trinkets?" Damian wrinkled his nose, as he stared at Daniel as if he were an idiot, which he very surely believes he is. "I expected you to be smarter than that, but I am not surprised by your usual incompetence."

Logos shook his head. "These are not mere trinkets, brother, and I know you recognize that as well. These," Danny picked up the few small buttons, tossing them at Damian, who easily caught them. "Will are capable of expanding into ectoplasmic nets, that will also deliver a shock to those who try to get out of them, nothing lethal, so worry not about your father having an issue with them."

Damian hummed, holding one of the buttons up to his eye. Logos waved to a nearby target that he set up for this exact circumstance. "Go ahead, try it."

Damian glanced at his twin, before throwing the button at the target. It expanded into a large net that shouldn't have been able to be held in such a small object, wrapping around the target.

"Unfortunately, you will be unable to test the shock function at this moment, so you will have to test it later on a live subject."

"Tt."

Logos tilted his head. "You seem displeased."

"That you are capable? Yes. I am."

Logos hummed, before taking up the ball. "That is a mechanical eye, you be able to see through it, which would certainly make it easier for you who stalks the night, yes?" Damian clicked his tongue, and Logos took that as enough to continue. "You will be able to look through it with these," He picked up the arm bracer in his other hand and handed both items to Damian. "The bracer connects to the eye, which will show you a live recording of what is happening on the other side." Logos turned to pick up the laser pointer, before blinking. "Ah, just will it to move, and it will. So long as you have the bracer on."

Damian stared at the bracer for a moment, before swiftly putting it on, and the mechanical eye sprang to life as soon as he finished. A screen appeared over his arm, giving him a direct look through the eye's position. He tested the movement and found it true.

"Being torn apart may have been the best thing that has happened to you, brother."

"Perhaps." Logos threw the laser pointer at Damian, which he caught. "That is a small, portable laser, while also acting as a regular laser pointer. Just twist the knob at the bottom and you'll be able to adjust it." Logos' eyes narrowed. "Do not test it in here, or anywhere near here, for that matter."

Damian pocketed it silently, before recrossing his arms. He grunted.

"Pathos will be happy to receive your cooperation, though he is quite emotional, I expect you to work around that." Logos held out a hand, and Damian stared at it for a good few moments, before begrudgingly putting his hand in his twin's for a handshake.

Damian had a foreboding feeling that he would regret ever accepting this deal, and not even a minute after meeting him he already did.

[Based off of this post, and thank you @ashfly for the name suggestions! :3]

[dogicrimsonofficial]

Howler Logs - #17, The Salt Strand 💖

<== Previous -- Next ==>

Full Travel Log Catalogue Here!

It had been a couple of weeks, traveling, gaining strength, understanding and adjusting. The bounce of the earth, the wind, very aether that permeated the air was different from Howler's timeline, so it was no wonder they had to take that time. 

During those couple of weeks, Howler hadn’t actually gone into a fight, relying on their stealth training more than anything. No weapon felt right in their hands, not after their old one was left behind in nearly three decades into the future. 

But they had to adapt. It was what they were made for. 

A bite from a water-serpent could be painful, but not lethal as long as it didn’t hit anything vital – like a joint or neck. So all Howler really needed to do there was to keep dodging backwards whenever it lunged – the sharp, long and narrow teeth were meant to pierce and hold, and the smaller head didn’t hold nearly as much muscle to exactly create a powerful bite. 

Still, they’d have to be careful. Less lethal than it looked like or not, it was still painful, and Howler couldn’t exactly switch into healer mid combat. 

Not anymore, at least. There was a desperate click from their arm, a mechanism that was trying to call out for a weapon that was no longer there to switch into a different style. For magic. To heal. Or to slice, or to attack from distance - anything but raw pure fists. 

But that mechanism had broken down over a moon ago, and while it had been on the list of things to fix… well there hadn’t been time. 

The serpent twisted, tired of Howler running circles around the beast, striking with a fist every so often against the scales. Nothing too hard, just enough to get the wavekins attention, get it moving around more. Waste more energy. With Howler being smaller than it, that was their best option. 

‘You’ll never match the raw strength of most of your opponents with your frame,’ a voice echoed in their ears, cool and icy and emotionless, with a bored purr that had sent a fearful shiver down Howler's spine every so often. ‘So use your speed. Tire them out. Tire me out.’ 

‘It’s no use punching solid steel, see!’ another voice – of a woman with fierce sapphire eyes and golden hair that shimmered like the sun, who stood proud and tall and ready to fight – ‘What you need to do is find the weak spot, and then pour your all into it!’

Sliding under the thrashing tail, Howler was quietly thankful for all the teachers in their life. Even as the water soaked their clothes and scent of salt managed to sneak it’s way through the mask, the cold air fogging up the goggles, all they had taught was enough to dodge just in time, just in the right way for them to find another angle to attack without wasting too much energy. 

More than anything, they were thankful for the hand-to-hand combat training, brief as their time with the monk had been. 

Circling around, Howler sped up – running up the serpent itself, using the spines as footholds and finally kicking off by using their head as a springboard. They wouldn’t be able to keep this fight up much longer, their clothes now weighing them down – but thankfully, the serpent had slowed down just enough for one solid hit. 

“UP HERE!” Howler shouted, as the serpent was shaking its confusion from the earlier hit off.  

Another teacher to be thankful for – this jumping power was partially genetic, partially the painstaking training done to impress another. 

Howler pulled their mechanical arm back, metallic joints creaking as ceruleum coursed through its artificial veins. A faint, golden glow surrounded the fist – aether, claimed the studied; chakra, claimed the wielders of the tradition – as Howler hit the apex of the jump, and began their descent back down. 

Between the reinforced prosthetic, gravity and Howler's own force – both the physical and more aetherial – as well as well timed lessons in physics was enough. A solid hit against the top of the serpent's head sent a resounding CRACK across the Salt Strand.

For a second, they were both frozen - or so it at the very least felt. It always felt like that after a fight against something that demanded a little more work to defeat. That final hit, the strike that administered the kill. It always felt like a small eternity. 

But soon enough, the serpent crumbled against the wet crystalline floor, water splashing as it fell. 

Howler was no fool however – they waited within a certain distance, one hand raised to strike again, as they circled around the body to wait for the twitching to stop. Sometimes these things liked to pretend to be dead, or gained a second wind… but not this time. No, Howler's hit from above had been just enough. 

Sea Serpents didn’t exactly have the strongest of skulls, it seemed – or perhaps… 

Howler sat down on top of the wavekin, adjusting their wrist. Pipsqueak flapped closer, having kept their distance during the fight. Good, a battlefield was no place for a baby bat, even if Howler would’ve welcomed an ally. 

But the main point was now clear.

They had recovered enough to pull off most of the monk moves, at the very least. Enough to keep them alive, if a fight arose. There was a wry smile under the mask, they placed their flesh hand against the mechanism on their prosthetic arm. The mechanism that allowed them to switch jobs with ease, if it was functioning properly - as it stood right now, they’d have to manually push the plates. 

And right now, it was stuck on the crystal that made it easier to tap into the abilities of a monk.

There was a small sigh, and a gentle smile behind that mask. 

“... I’m glad you’re here with me, even if it’s only in spirit Lyse.”

[juliewillruinu]

Garden of Forbidden Melodies | Chapter three | Sukuna x oc

Tw: None (other than Sukuna being a whole thirst trap👅)

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ....

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆: 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰𝒄𝒆

GHana's breath came in ragged gasps as she ran, the cold mountain air cutting into her lungs. The weight of the biwa in her hands was unbearable, a constant reminder of the monstrous power she had barely managed to contain. Her heart pounded not just from the exertion but from the lingering fear that at any moment, Sukuna could break free and lay waste to everything she held dear.

The forest was dark, the only light coming from the thin sliver of the moon that barely peeked through the dense canopy above. Every shadow seemed to shift and writhe, every sound magnified in the oppressive silence of the night. The path up the mountain, familiar as it was, felt more treacherous than ever. But Hana couldn't afford to stop, couldn't afford to let her fear slow her down. She had to reach her brother.

As she pushed through the dense underbrush, branches clawing at her clothing, a sudden chill swept through the air, unnatural and biting. Hana slowed her pace, her senses on high alert. The cold wasn't just the mountain wind-it was something else, something foreign. Her grip tightened on the biwa, the cursed energy within it pulsing with a strange rhythm, as if it, too, sensed the presence of something... or someone.

A soft, almost inaudible sound reached her ears-a rustle, a whisper of movement that seemed to come from all around her. Hana stopped, her breath hitching in her throat as she strained to hear. The forest was still, but the cold was deepening, seeping into her bones, turning her blood to ice.

Then, from the shadows, a figure emerged.

Hana's heart leaped into her throat as she took in sight before her. A person, tall and slender, cloaked in a flowing robe of deep, icy blue that blended almost seamlessly with the darkness. Their skin was pale, almost translucent in the dim light, and their long, white hair framed a face that was sharp, elegant, and utterly devoid of warmth. But it was their eyes that sent a shiver down Hana's spine-cold, emotionless, and a shade of blue so deep it was almost black.

The figure regarded Hana with an expression of mild curiosity as if she were a puzzle to be solved. They stepped closer, and Hana instinctively took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest.

"You've got something that doesn't belong to you," the figure said, their voice soft, almost gentle, but carrying an undeniable edge of danger. "You've got Sukuna-sama."

Hana's breath caught in her throat. She knew who this was-Uraume, the mysterious attendant and confidant to Sukuna, known for their icy demeanor and lethal precision. The stories Hana had heard painted Uraume as an enigma, a force to be reckoned with, always by Sukuna's side, bound to him by loyalty and something darker.

"I don't want any trouble," Hana stammered, her voice trembling as she tried to keep the fear out of her tone. "I just want to protect my village."

Uraume's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile, but there was no warmth in it. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Sukuna-sama doesn't take kindly to being imprisoned, especially by someone as insignificant as you."

The words stung, but Hana held her ground, even as her knees threatened to give way beneath her. "I did what I had to. I won't let him destroy everything."

Uraume tilted their head as if considering Hana's words. "You're brave," they said softly, almost as if they were complimenting her. "But bravery won't save you from what's coming. Hand over the biwa, and I might let you live."

Hana's grip tightened on the instrument. She knew she was no match for Uraume-she could feel their cursed energy radiating like a frozen wind, sharp and lethal. But if she gave up the biwa, she'd be condemning her village to certain destruction. And more than that, she'd be giving up the one thing that could contain Sukuna, even if only for a short while.

"I can't do that," Hana whispered, her voice barely audible.

Uraume's eyes narrowed, and the air grew even colder, the temperature dropping to a point where Hana's breath came out in visible puffs. "Then you leave me no choice."

In a blur of motion, Uraume closed the distance between them, their hand outstretched toward the biwa. Hana barely had time to react, her body moving on instinct as she raised the instrument to block the attack. But before Uraume's hand could make contact, a surge of energy erupted from the biwa, a blast of light and sound that sent Uraume stumbling back.

Hana's heart pounded in her chest as she realized what had happened. The biwa-its power had reacted to Uraume's cursed energy, protecting her. But Hana knew it wouldn't be enough. Uraume was too strong, too skilled. She had to get away; she had to find some way to protect her brother before it was too late.

Without a second thought, Hana turned and ran, her feet pounding against the forest floor as she sprinted up the mountain. Behind her, she could hear Uraume's soft footsteps, eerily quiet as they pursued her. The chill in the air deepened, and Hana could feel her strength waning, the cold sapping her energy with every step.

But she couldn't stop now. Not when she was so close.

Finally, she burst through the treeline and into the clearing where the small shrine stood, her brother's figure barely visible in the doorway. His eyes widened in fear as he saw her, but Hana forced a smile, trying to reassure him even as her heart raced.

"Inside," she called out, her voice trembling.

Her brother hesitated for only a moment before retreating into the shrine. Hana could feel Uraume closing in behind her, their presence like a cold shadow at her back. She stumbled toward the shrine, her hands trembling as she struggled to think, to plan.

"Hana."

Uraume's voice was closer now, and Hana whirled around to face them, her heart pounding. Uraume stood at the edge of the clearing, their expression calm, almost serene, as if they were merely waiting for Hana to accept the inevitable.

"Give me the biwa, Hana," Uraume said softly. "It's the only way to end this without bloodshed."

Hana's hands trembled as she clutched the instrument to her chest. She knew Uraume was right-there was no way she could win this fight. But she couldn't just hand over Sukuna. She couldn't just let him loose on the world without a fight.

"I won't," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Uraume's expression hardened, and the air grew colder still, frost beginning to form on the grass at their feet and began to creep towards Hana.

"Uraume." A deep voice echoed from her now glowing biwa. "Stand down."

Her biwa began to glow, and it only intensified as time passed, its energy crackling in the air as Sukuna's deep, resonant voice echoed from within. Hana's heart stopped at the sound, her breath catching in her throat as she watched Uraume, once so fearsome, now kneeling before the presence that had just manifested.

"Lord Sukuna-sama, Uraume murmured with reverence, their cold demeanor thawing as they lowered their head in submission. The oppressive chill that had blanketed the area began to dissipate, replaced by a different kind of tension-a dangerous, intoxicating energy that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the biwa

The instrument in Hana's hands vibrated violently as if the curse sealed within was straining against its confinement. She could feel Sukuna's power, raw and unfiltered, seeping into her very bones. A sudden fear gripped her, but it was too late to react in time. Before her eyes, the biwa's glow coalesced into a blinding flash of light, forcing her to shield her eyes.

When the light faded, a figure stood before her, larger than life, exuding the same aura of overwhelming dominance as when she first met him in the brothel. Ryomen Sukuna had taken form.

Hana's breath hitched as she took in his appearance. Pairs of eyes, each gleaming with malevolent intelligence, stared down at her from a face that was both beautiful and terrifying. A small mask covered the left side of his face, enhancing the sinister allure of his features. His four arms were muscular, each hand adorned with sharp, claw-like nails that looked as though they could tear through anything they touched.

Isamu, who had been watching from the doorway of the shrine, let out a terrified gasp. Sukuna's gaze flicked toward the boy, and a cruel smirk played on his lips before his attention returned to Hana.

With terrifying speed, one of Sukuna's hands shot out, gripping Hana's chin with a firm but calculated force. The warmth of his touch was in stark contrast to the cold terror that had gripped her heart. He tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"You're trembling, Sukuna murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "Fear, or excitement?" His gaze swept over her face, lingering on her eyes and her lips as if memorizing every detail. "You know, it's a pity to see such a pretty face hidden beneath that hat." With a swift motion, he knocked the bamboo hat off her head, sending it tumbling to the ground.

Sukuna's eyes, all four of them, roved over her, taking in the details of her figure and her clothing, now torn and dirty from the chase. His expression was one of dark fascination as if he found something about her utterly captivating.

His thumb brushed against her lower lip, lingering in a way that was both unsettling and intimate. Hana's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The danger was palpable, yet there was something else in Sukuna's gaze-a flicker of curiosity, of interest that went beyond mere violence.

"You've managed to capture me, woman," Sukuna murmured, his voice low and smooth. "But it seems you didn't know what to do once you had me. I could kill you now... or," he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Now whatever will you do?"

Hana's heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening. She knew she was standing on the edge of a precipice, one wrong move away from certain death. But there was something in Sukuna's tone, something that made her believe he wouldn't kill her yet, at least.

"Let go of my sister!" Isamu's voice, small but fierce, rang out as he darted forward, kicking at Sukuna's leg with all the strength he could muster. Hana's eyes widened in terror as she realized what her brother was doing.

Sukuna's gaze flicked down to the boy, and without hesitation, he released Hana and snatched Isamu up by the back of his kimono, lifting him effortlessly into the air. Isamu struggled, kicking his legs frantically, but Sukuna held him with the ease of a predator toying with its prey.

"Sukuna, please!" She yelled out in desperation. Oh, how enjoyed the way his name rolled off her tongue.

Sukuna looked at her, his eyes narrowing. The amusement that had colored his tone moments before was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating look. "This brat," he said, shaking Isamu lightly, "means something to you, doesn't he?"

Hana nodded frantically, tears welling up in her eyes. "Please, don't hurt him. I'll do anything!"

A dark smile curved Sukuna's lips as he considered her words. "Anything, you say?" His eyes bore into hers, and for a moment, Hana felt as though he could see right through her, into her very soul.

"Then you will be mine," Sukuna said, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. "My songbird, my pet. Amuse me, entertain me, and I might just let your brother live."

Hana's breath was caught in her throat, her heart beating in her ribs. The choice before her was no choice at all— her brother's life hung in the balance.

Sukuna's grip tightened slightly on Isamu, causing the boy to yelp in fear. Hana's resolve hardened, and she nodded, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I'll do it, so please let him go."

"Good." Sukuna's smile widened his thumb once again tracing the line of Hana's jaw. "You made the right choice, little bird. And now," he released Isamu, letting the boy drop to the ground, where he scrambled to his sister's side, "We'll have lots of fun together."

[bluespiderlully]

KNY - My characters archive

VOID BREATHING HASHIRAS

🕳 Rin Yeon (21 y.o.) - Void Hashira

Raised in Korea among a network of assassins and spies serving an assassins' guild tasked with extorting information from Japanese officials and killing inconvenient personalities, Rin Yeon's childhood was one of brutal training and ruthless missions. Silent and lethal, she was tasked with killing Asuka (who comes from a wealthy and noble Japanese family), but she defeated her easily. Instead of finishing her off, the Pillar of Light offered her a choice: continue living as a weapon in the service of others or fight for something greater. Bewildered but intrigued, Rin Yeon accepted, joining the Demon Slayer Corps. Cold and taciturn, she seems emotionless, but those who know her best know that behind her armor hides a tormented soul seeking redemption.

🧿 Ayumi Shinazugawa (18 y.o.) - Shadow Hashira

Ayumi, is a young woman marked by a past of solitude and misunderstanding. Her prophetic visions, which have troubled her since she was a child, have always been an enigma to her, and she has never been able to understand or find an explanation for them. Her mother, always affectionate and protective, has always pampered and supported her, aware of her sweet and introverted nature. Ayumi was a fragile, often distant and lonely child, but her mother always loved her unconditionally, trying to give her all the warmth she needed. However, her childhood was marked by the violence of her father, which shattered any trust she had in men. Sanemi, her brother, is the only man Ayumi trusts, the one who has always protected and loved her without ever betraying her. She followed Sanemi in becoming a slayer and learned Shadow Breathing to protect herself and those she loves.

⭐️ Munsu Sol (21 y.o.) - Star Hashira

Originally from Korea, Munsu Sol was deported to Japan on charges of inciting rebellion against the Japanese occupation. His father, a rebel blacksmith who forged weapons for the resistance, was executed shortly before his departure. Forced to work in a Japanese mine, Munsu endured years of hardship and suffering. When a miner's revolt broke out, Munsu fought with determination, earning the respect of his fellow miners. After managing to escape, he was hunted down by the Japanese authorities and found by Sanemi Shinazugawa. Moved by his resistance, Sanemi paid for his release and offered him the opportunity to become a Demon Slayer. Munsu accepted, vowing to use his new life to protect those who cannot defend themselves and to honor his family's sacrifice.