#tw needle implication

[hollowslasher]

Ren pfp, free for use ✌️ I’ve edited it to hell and back

[asoulofstars]

Jordan is having another day where the boneitis is killing her and the nerves are inflamed. I am getting an injection tomorrow morning, so fingers crossed this gets better.

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

need fuct actually injected into my veins.

[maladaptivewritings]

Personal Jesus

Simon has a tattoo artist he favors, and in his boredom while home becomes a superhero for a single person

tw: general Simon Riley behavior, general C.O.D topics, stalking for the cause?

Y/N : They/them, female anatomy implications, tattoo artist, oblivious loser , slightly more emotionally intelligent, nickname of lamb by Simon

word count: 550

Pt.2

Every time he got back into that Manchester suburb, the bell on a simple tattoo shop rang. A deep breathe shared amongst the two as music hums in the thick air.

The needle buzzes against Simon's shoulder blade as you followed amongst the stencil. A new style you had convinced him to try and updated the dingy sleeve he had, cyber sigils now outlined nipping just at his collarbone. His gruff voice breaks the silence he had asked for when he entered.

"Man just blew up in'front of me," The breathes uneasy as the needled hummed with the lines. He knew he shouldn’t of said anything, but the young man who’s life disappeared in less than a moment was haunting his thoughts.

"That why you’re here and not hiding from the world?" You sighed, trying to understand what may going through this brick-wall- of-a-man's mind. You didn't know much about him besides that he may be military, what snacks he got from the shop, his favorite musicians etc 'maybe you knew a bit about him.' He was your favorite customer, let you free flow and practice against the tough skin he had built. Layers of muscle that tensed and relax underneath your touch, enticing you further. He also tipped well, and brought snacks despite the length. You worked on his shoulder blade as he rambled about this past deployment. A simple mistake of some stranger messing with him.

"Wouldn't've been older than twenty," His breathless nature made you second guess if you needed to stop. The fresh scars littering his broad back contorting with every hitch. Should this stranger know any of this, would the government 'Men in Black' you? The joke dashed across your mind.

"Just a boy, and he stepped on a land mine, not a soldier just a kid getting groceries." He finishes the thought, and it's wrenches your heart in the worst way. His realization of what he saw hitting him as you finish the stroke. sharing the mutual silence.

"You didn't know he would be there." Your attempt to help him cope and coax his desperate need for any sort of comfort. Simon turns towards you his obsidian like eyes burn like daggers, they are glossy but he doesn't cry. He just sits there in frustration.

"I should’ve, simple as that. Kid looked like he had no clue what was goin' on, like the idea that a fuckin terrorist was livin' next door was less likely than winning the lottery." He leaned back, arms flex as he supported himself against them. He had seen some of the worst bits of war, and this one kid was messing with him. His mousy blond hair tussled at his grown out buzz cut, a huff escapes his mouth as you return to tattooing him.

You just simply nodded for the next hour or so, as he ranted and raved as if reciting exactly what he knew what he could say. Pushing the limits, as he finally finished his whole moral dilemma , you finished your task.

You continued the conversion at the front desk, handing him a flyer for a group meeting. The two of you understood that despite your best efforts he would never go, but he would remember this act of kindness.

[call-sign-shark]

Pairing: The Darkling x Heartrender!You || The Darkling x HeartrenderOC!Reader

Summary: After weeks of treating you coldly, you learn that Aleksander decided to bring you to the King's Court without your consent. Frustrated, you decide to face him and poke at his insecurities... Little you know it only makes him fall harder for you.

Words: 5k.

TW: unhealthy relationship, controlling behavior, strong pinning, argument, vague sexual innuendo, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff that will give you cavities.

Notes: A quieter chapter 'cause you're not ready for the epicness of the next one! Enjoy! Please comment or reblog if you want more.

Part VII - Dangerous

Previous || Masterlist || Next

The worn-out parchment trembled in your hand, the wax seal already broken. For a moment you stood still with your big crystal eyes riveted on the paper, hoping you misread what had been carefully hand-written on the letter. You read its content for the third time, feeling your heart pounding harder with every word: By order of His Majesty, King Pyotr, you are summoned to appear at the Grand Court.

The weeks that separated your nightly encounter with General Kirigan in the dimly lit map room from this cold afternoon had blurred into a strange rhythm. While still charged, they seemed to flow slower than ever. Though both you and Aleksander had returned to your respective roles without any trouble besides fleeting glances, the air between you buzzed with the weight of what was almost done in that room. An aborted kiss. Kirigan could have kissed you, your plump lips on the verge of meeting his in a scorching embrace, hadn’t he suddenly changed his mind and dismissed your presence with the coldest demeanor possible. 

Even though you were haunted by this experience, your mind momentarily obliterated it at the sight of the parchment’s words, stark and unforgiving. Their implications sent a chill down your spine: why did the King himself want to see you? 

Rushing through the door of your bedroom, you hurried to find Genya. If there was one person who had answers regarding everything, it was certainly her. Not only answers but also a soothing, angelic calm that might ground you a little. You had thought to seek Fedyor for a brief instant, a close friend of yours, but considering how extra he would be about it you knew he would panic even more than you and end up stressing you further.

Fortunately enough, you didn’t have to search too long. You found Genya in her usual spot, seated by the tall window in a stream of golden sunlight. Her sumptuous and wavy red hair, arranged in an elegant hairstyle, gleamed like a wild fire as she worked deftly with needle and thread on an elegant white kefta adorned with gold cuff. The garment was for a servant of the Grand Palace, just like hers when she worked as the Queen’s personal Tailor. The sight of her, serene and focused on her task, tamed your fury a little.

“Genya,” You blurted, clutching the letter as if it might burn you,” This – what does this mean? Why am I being summoned to the King’s Court?” In the sake of having a proper answer to your questions, you were trying hard to control your natural bluntness and the ice of your tone but it wasn’t really conclusive.

Genya glanced up, not bringing up the fact you didn’t greet her nor your lack of proper etiquette when addressing someone with a higher rank. Her golden eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed your disheveled state, and how dilated your dark pupils were, stretching like black holes surrounded by a thin ring of shiny frost. Setting her embroidery down, she reached out to take the letter without a word and proceeded to read it. 

“This is…” She began carefully, handing it back. You grabbed the letter and tossed it on the wooden furniture next to you, “It’s an invitation. Or rather, a summons.”

“Oh, thank you for this interesting output. I wouldn’t have figured it out myself.” You replied in a rasping tone, dripping with sarcasm. Genya raised an eyebrow, catching sight of how the corner of your enticing lips twitched in frustration, “What for? I didn’t ask to go to the Court. What could they possibly want with me?”

Her gaze softened a little, for she could relate how stressful she was herself when General Kirigan had brought her to the Grand Palace the very first time, though she didn’t know what she had to fear was not the Court, but being alone at night with the King. She shook her head slightly at the unpleasant memory, a flicker of unease in her eyes, “I don’t know the exact details,” she said gently.

“But you know the broad picture.” You retorted with a controlled but sharp smile that betrayed the anger that was building up within.

“The General requested an audience with the King on your behalf”, she corrected.

You froze, “Aleksander did this?”

“Aleksander?”

You stopped an instant, realizing what you have called him. Aleksander… The name melted on your tongue like cotton candy, the sweetness of it filling your mouth with saccharine. During this fleeting time frame, Genya had noticed the subtle change in your expression but said nothing. She hesitated, then came back to the initial topic of your conversation.

“He’s been… advocating for your freedom,” she explained but her sentence still sounded bitter despite her best efforts. How ironic it was that the General was fighting for your freedom while all he did was enslave her by turning her into a stupid gift for the Queen. 

The words hit you like a blow before you could grasp the irony of her statement. 

Aleksander had said little to you since your conversation in the map room, two weeks prior, even though his presence in your life had remained constant – watching, guiding, intoxicating… Always close but so distant at once. You could still feel his hot breath mingling with yours and this thumb caressing the apple of your cheek with utter tenderness each time you’d close your eyes.

“Why?” You asked, your voice turning into a mere whisper – the revelation had really caught you off guard. Only after a few long seconds did you connect the dots: your indenture. The last words exchanged with him had been about your indenture, to which he had replied that he would handle it.  That was why he had asked the King on your behalf.

Now that the reason for his acts was crystal clear, a second question popped into your mind, “Why would he risk involving the King for me?”

Genya hesitated again, her tongue quickly moistening her lips before she pressed them into a thin line, debating how much to say and how much to keep for herself. The silence that stretched between you felt like a dull eternity, “Heaven, you must understand… The General sees something in you. He values you more than you can think, and he doesn’t let go of what he values.” She said with a quiet but warm empathy though she fidgeted nervously with one of her red locks of hair.

“That’s not comforting,” You suddenly lamented, your natural coldness moving on to an irresistible childish pout, “That’s not comforting at all!” Unable to stay still any longer, you paced in the room as your mind raced, trying to come up with a plan to avoid meeting the King. 

Jumping out the window had never been so tempting.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Genya stated as softly as before, though she was clearly amused by the sight of you acting more… human. More made in flesh and bones rather than carved out of the chillest ice. Was it Aleksander’s mention that had softened you a bit, she wondered.

“Maybe if I bash my head against the wall and knock myself out…” 

Genya reached for your hand, stopping you mid-step and cutting off your mumbling, “Hey, listen to me. Whatever happens at Court, you’ll have the General by your side. He won’t let harm come to you.” Because he doesn’t see you as a disposable thing for some obscure reason, she almost added but kept herself from doing so, “I guess he wants to show the King how valuable you are”.

You pulled your freezing little hand back, your chest tightening, “But he’s the one putting me in this unpleasant situation. He’s the one pressuring me!” 

The one intoxicating me, haunting my every thought, lightening up my every fiber.

“What if I do something wrong? What if I fail to do what they ask me to do? What if–” 

“You won’t fail,” Genya interrupted firmly, “I’ve seen what you can do, Hev. We all have. You’re far stronger than you think. In fact, you’re terrifyingly strong.” 

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to breathe properly. Yet, her encouragement had some effects upon you, “And if the King decides I’m not worth the trouble? What then?”  Would he kick you back to the Menagerie, where Tante Heleen’s punishment would outperform everything she has done to you already?

A long exhale escaped Genya’s nostrils before the red-haired Grisha offered a faint, reassuring smile, “Whatever it is, the General will be with you. He won’t let anything, any-bloody-thing happen to you. Trust him.”  As she said this, Genya’s eyes glowed with utter sincerity. While she didn’t know the full extent of Kirigan’s determination or schemes, she had seen enough to understand his fierce protectiveness over you. Behind closed doors, Aleksander had left no room for doubt: anyone who dared to harm or endanger his little Heartrender would face his merciless wrath. Zoya’s case had been merely a sample of what he was capable of doing for you. This was an unspoken truth that even Ivan didn’t question. And so, when she spoke to you, it wasn’t words just said in reassurance – it was the undeniable certainty of a promise Aleksander had silently vowed. And not so silently conveyed to the rest of the second Army.

Trust him. It echoed in your mind, accompanied by a recollection of all the moments the Black General had, indeed, been worthy of your thrust by saving you and protecting your honor. But how mad you were about that summon! 

“Maybe I can create a special outfit for you? It won’t change your situation but at least you’ll make an impression.” She suggested. As everyone else here, Genya had noticed that you refused to wear the Heartrenders’ red kefta, and she doubted you’d agree to do so in preparation for your meeting with the King. Her surprising yet kind suggestion put a faint but genuine smile on your rosy lips.

“You would do that?”

“Of course, but can I ask you a favor in exchange?” 

“Yes?” You raised an eyebrow.

Genya’s gaze turned surprisingly sharp. The amber of her eyes gleamed with a spark of mischief, “Please, do make an impression .” The way she spoke, slow and low, made you frown. All your senses tingled as they sensed the venom of hatred seeping from every syllable, “When you stand before them, let them see what they should fear — what they cannot control.”

The morning came too quickly for once, the faint and pale light of dawn creeping into the wide horizon as you stood outside the Little Palace, your packed bag slung over one shoulder. Before exiting the building, you had made a detour to collect the outfit Genya created for you. Carefully folded and hidden in silk, you didn’t get to look at it and rather shoved it quickly in your bag. 

A frozen gust of wind blew to your face, biting at your cheeks as the crisp smell of winter filled your senses. Your seraphic face, ivory as the shy morning sun, was taunted with displeasure, echoing the wild spirit that simmered beneath your icy exterior. Even though you had remained quite passive since your arrival here — well, relatively passive considering you almost killed two people and brought a bit of chaos in the Little Palace’s organized routine as well as in the General’s heart — your fierceness had remained. It had always been there, seething, clawing at your ribcage, and, today, it showed. 

You watched, head slightly tilted, as other Grisha began to gather, their joyful chattering carried with the wind while the carriages were prepared. Clutching the leather strap of your bag, you bit your lower lip and weighed whether or not you should join them. Maybe it would do some good to mingle with them? Maybe you could try to befriend them, just to show that you weren’t some kind of empty killing machine – a reputation you really wanted to avoid –? 

You had barely made the first step toward the bunch of young Grisha, resolved to join them when General Kirigan erupted from the shadows nearby. His long black kefta floated behind him at the breeze’s discretion with each of his steps. He contrasted with the bright morning, but even the light couldn’t diminish his massive aura. As he walked to you, it felt like night followed him, ready to devour the sun with a single snap of his fingers. 

He stopped a few paces away from you, his expression unfathomable as always. He, who hadn’t spoken a single word to you in two weeks, finally deigned to do so.

“Heaven,” he said softly, a tilt of his head beckoning you to follow him. 

You didn’t move, but your frown deepened, “I assume I’m not traveling with them.” You stated coldly, nodding toward the group of Grisha for emphasis. To be honest, you didn’t mean to welcome him with such freezing greetings but the unexpected — and unsought — trip to the King’s palace had soured your mood.  This, and the silent treatment of these past two weeks. So when he came to seclude you from the rest of the herd, you felt a wave of injustice washing over you.

“You’re not,” The tall darkness replied simply with a firm tone. All the tenderness and affection he had displayed in the map room seemed to be gone for good, “You’ll ride with me.”

A muscle in your jaw tightened as his command collided against your free spirit: if there was something you had learned to despise following your escape from the Menagerie it was decisions made for you without so much as a word of consultation. Without the slightest interest nor care for your opinion. The need to retort something hovered on the top of your tongue, ready to slice, but you swallowed it down. Instead, you managed a curt nod, your defiance still forming a lump in your throat. Then, you followed him to the black carriage waiting nearby.

The interior of it was lavish, lined with dark velvet and polished wood. A little “oh” fell from your lips when you discovered how luxurious it was but you didn’t dawdle and climbed inside without wasting time. As you did, you shifted to take the seat opposite to Aleksander but his large hand gently pressed on the small of your back to guide you next to him. The way he did it was light, almost imperceptible, but it carried his silent command and steered you with a subtlety that betrayed his need to control. Having no other choice — and being weak whenever he touched you—, you obliged. 

Once sat, you crossed your arms over your small breasts.

For the first hour of the journey, you stayed silent, your head resting against the window while Aleksander read a pile of boring-looking papers. Because of how stubborn you were, you didn’t pay attention to him for that whole hour,  each passing mile deepening the chasm. The chill that emanated from you was almost tangible.

“You’re angry.” Kirigan remarked at last, his sultry voice breaking the quiet like a stone thrown at a window. His void-like irises were still focused on the pages he was holding in his gloved hands when he talked to you.

Your eyes snapped to his attractive face, “No.” 

“Well, if not, why does it feel like you are sulking?” His mouth twisted in a half smile before it vanished, vaguely amused by the sudden display of emotions that contrasted with your usual iciness. His soft lilt carried a subtle condescension though, which had become a second nature by dint of always having centuries of difference with the other people around him.

Your heart drummed as his words echoed in the confined space of the carriage. The term “sulking” struck a nerve for it was trivializing your feelings and reducing your genuine hurt to a child’s petty tantrum. But a tantrum it wasn’t — it was asking for basic consideration. All your life your voice was dismissed, your choice stripped away, leaving you feeling like an object devoid of agency. Devoid of soul. That summons to the King’s Court, decided without your consent nor your awareness, only mirrored those past indignities.

”You arranged all of this without even asking me,” Your voice sounded like the whistling of an axe slicing through the air, “What if I didn’t want to go?”

Aleksander finally dropped his paperwork next to him and looked at you, one eyebrow lifted. His amusement faltered when he realized that you were genuinely hurt — something he hadn’t even considered. “Would you have refused?”

“That’s not the point,” You dared shoot back, “You know, I’m not a weapon or piece on your board.” You let out. Genya might have explained that the reason behind it was in your best interest but the way it had been done clearly left a bitter taste in your mouth, leading you to wonder if Aleksander’s attention wasn’t purely selfish and calculated. Moreover, his sudden distant demeanor didn’t help.

His gaze suddenly darkened at your accusations, shadows shaped like a cloud of black smoke rising frighteningly in the tight, suffocating space of the carriage. It was what you were supposed to be, wasn’t it? A carefully placed pawn in his long, strategic game. But, admittedly, your words stung in a way he didn’t anticipate. A painful pang in his long-thought-dead heart he couldn’t explain.

“You misunderstand my intentions,” He explained softly, with a steady tone though it held something sharp, “This is about your freedom, Heaven. Your future. The King is the only one who can officially cancel your indenture and make you a free citizen of Ravka, protected by its law and men. Would you rather stay shackled to a past that doesn’t deserve you?”

You replied with a short, humorless snort, “You’re fighting for my freedom but don't give me the freedom to know about it. Nor to voice my opinion…” Sighing, your shoulders slumped down, “With all due respect General, from where I’m sitting, it looks like a puppet show. You pulling my strings and me dancing for the King’s Court.” 

Aleksander’s jaw kept tightening but he didn’t interrupt.  Then, he shifted in his seat to turn to you, his crushing aura causing your heart to miss a beat, but you didn’t waver, “And what would you have me do? Leave you vulnerable and bound to a slave's contract?” Kirigan’s pitch-black eyes narrowed as they dived into yours with such intensity that you briefly thought about lowering your gaze — but it was out of question, “You’re implying that I wish to control you, but perhaps you mistake protection for control.” He breathed, always deathly calm.

“So you’re trying to protect me?” You raised a brow, doubting.

“Exactly.” Aleksander’s hands flexed against his thighs. He took a measured, controlled breath, “And you don’t know what I’ve sacrificed for what I wished to protect. What I’m willing to sacrifice for you.”

You purse your lips because you weren’t convinced. Something still felt… wrong. Protection might have justified the King’s summon, but not his behavior toward you since that near-kiss in the map room.

“So why have you been so distant lately?” You asked abruptly.

His expression flickered to an unguarded, fleeting surprise, “Distant?” He repeated though it wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” Your voice was steadier now despite the thunder in your heart, “You make these decisions, talk about sacrifices and protection, but you’ve been pulling away. Ever since…” The words caught in your throat for the steamy memory of his lips almost brushing yours seared through your mind, exhilarating. The unspoken end of your sentence lingered.

He didn’t answer immediately, rather looking away – his charming profile sharp in the light that passed through the window, “You wouldn’t understand”.

“Try me,” You challenged, leaning forward slightly, “ I don’t think you behave like this to protect me– you pull away to protect yourself, aren’t you?”

His head snapped back to you, and for a brief instant you thought you’d gone too far when his onyx irises darkened, the expression veiling his seductive face becoming almost threatening. But there was no malice in his gaze – only something raw. Something that made you understand that you were spot on.

“You think I’m… afraid?” He said with a raspy voice.

“I do,” You straight off replied, refusing to back down even though Fedyor would have probably slapped your face and screamed with a high-pitched ‘Have you gone crazy?!’ for talking to the General with such insolence, “I think you’re afraid of letting someone get close. Someone sees past the shadows. Maybe afraid of what they might see.” 

Another silence. Aleksander’s eyes burned into yours, unflinching, but the vulnerability beneath it was impossible to ignore. How could you, a little Heartrender from nowhere, understand him so well? How could you read his soul like an open book while no one, not even his own mother, was able to do so? 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He growled, though his voice lacked its usual edge. To be fair, he was too astounded by your clairvoyance – and seduced by your brattiness. 

“Do I?” You pressed, “I’m pretty sure I do when I say that you’ve been distant lately because you’re afraid to let me in and afraid that I’ll see you.” 

His throat worked as he swallowed, the movement of his apple bobbing up and down drawing your attention. While his hands had been previously clenching in frustration, the General seemed to relax a bit. 

When he finally spoke again after a long silence, his voice was rich and smooth like silk, “Does that mean you wish me to let you in?” You sensed a hint of teasing that hadn’t been there before. His ink eyes, gleaming with both amusement and intrigue, fell to your lips. 

 “You’re bold, I must admit…” 

Aleksander leaned forward ever so slightly to reduce the space between you. It was only when he saw your body reacted with surprise, knowing his sudden proximity had caught you off guard, that his lips curled into a faint, almost predatory smile, “I can’t decide whether to be impressed or…” He tilted his head to the side, “whether to remind you who you’re speaking to.” 

“Well, my mother used to call me dangerous but I guess bold also seemed fitting, General.”  Your voice had turned into a brave but trembling whisper, your eyes never breaking contact with his.

The Black General chuckled, low and deep, the sound of it sending pleasant chills down your spine, “Oh Heaven…” He shook his head a bit, the melody of his voice so smooth your own name felt like a caress, “What if I don’t like how freely you’ve decided to challenge me?” The playful threat in his words made your cheeks flush, heat creeping up to your neck and spreading through your entire body. 

And just like that, with his face close and his large hand unexpectedly resting on your thigh, your defiance faltered. In the narrow space of the carriage, his presence seemed to consume all the air around you, making it hard to breathe. His fingers gently bore into your flesh, his thumb caressing you in a circular motion. The feeling sent electric surges through your veins. For a moment, you couldn’t find your voice – his intense stare and threatening grin rendering you speechless. 

Finally, Aleksander leaned back, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he noted your silence – and the irresistible pink hue on your cheek, “That’s what I thought.”  He concluded, his voice laced with a quiet triumph.

You turned your gaze away, your heart hammering in your chest, cursing yourself for letting him unnerve you so easily. But the way his low chuckle had echoed in the confined space left you with the unmistakable feeling that he knew exactly the effect he had on you—and that he wasn’t done playing this game. 

Sulking for real this time, you turned back to the window with an adorable pout etched on your face.

Silence settled for another hour.

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels eventually dulled your anger. Each movement, each echo of the horses’ hooves hitting the ground, worked as a peaceful lullaby. Fatigue was slowly but surely creeping in. After all, you had merely slept last night, too stressed by the encounter with the King. You finally let out a reluctant sigh.  Beaten down by fatigue, your body, stiff for hours, sunk slightly into the comfortable seat. As minutes flew by, your eyelids grew heavy and your head tipped forward. Fuck! You jolted awake and met the General’s gaze.

He had been watching you falling asleep closely, his expression softening at your sleepy doll face.

“Don’t fight it,” He murmured, his tenderness coming back, “You’re sleepy.”

“I’m not.” You mumbled like a child, still very much flustered by the way he had teased you and how he had managed to have the last word of your conversation. You glanced at him, a sulking pout still etched on your angelic face, but you couldn’t deny how right he was. The fatigue of months of training and restless nights weighed heavily and resisting it wasn’t an easy task now that the carriage was gently rocking you. 

“You know that I summon shadows and not sleep, don’t you?” His remark was playful, “Would you let it go if I apologize for not taking your opinion into account?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, then. For this, and also for messing with you earlier. Please come here.” 

You had wanted to protest, stubborn as you were, but Kirigan shifted, opened his arm, and invited you to lean against him before you could do so. 

“Alright…”

Tentatively, you moved under his arm before resting your head on his shoulder, just like you did the night he brought you to the Little Palace, wrapped in his black coat and kept safe by his protecting hands. You slowly exhaled through your nostrils, comforted by his warmth and sweet perfume. The tension finally eased.

“Better?” He asked quietly, closing his grip around you to keep you all snuggled against him in an intimate, sheltering embrace.

“Hm.”  You hummed, eyes already closed and sleep winning the silent battle it had fought against you. The last thing you felt was the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

The tranquil rhythm of the carriage wheels over the cobblestone roads had pulled you deep into Morpheus’ arms. It didn’t take long for you to surrender to sleep, your head still resting lightly against Aleksander’s shoulders. As the carriage exited a thick forest, sunlight came to hit your heavenly appearance and formed a golden ring around you. There, bathed in the sun and blessed with a peaceful sleep, you seemed completely innocent. Fragile. Pure as freshly fallen snow. The sharp edges of your face were softened, your frown smoothed, and your seraphic traits freed from the usual tension.

Kirigan’s eyes, as black as soot like the remnant of a raging fire and dying amber, indulged in your drop-dead pulchritude. The fascination he had for you was so overwhelming that he lost the notion of time though he couldn’t care more. How could he focus on something else when every synapse of his brain, every fiber of his being, every nerve of his flesh, was occupied by you?  

Soon, studying your face wasn’t enough anymore. He needed to feel you. The General shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you in your sleep, only to pull you closer in a real hug. Now that you were closely tangled with him, the faint scent of your hair — crisp like winter yet surprisingly floral, reminding him of lily-of-the-valley flowers — reached him and tightened the knot of longing in his stomach. 

Aleksander buried his face in your ivory mane for a brief moment and wondered how you had managed to carve your way into his thoughts. How you had destroyed his carefully constructed walls he had spent centuries building high enough to discourage anyone. But you were unlike anyone he had ever known, weren’t you? Unpredictable and fierce like a firestorm even he couldn’t control.  

His hand hovered near your shoulder, hesitating. The conflict he experienced within was still tearing him apart. 

You will break her, Aleksander. Baghra’s sermon played on repeat in the back of his mind.

Rather than stroking your shoulder, Kirigan slowly, cautiously brushed a strand of hair from your face. His fingertips grazed your cold skin with utter gentleness, which made you stirred slightly. Your lips parted as if on the verge of waking, but you settled again, too embedded in sleep to bother. Yes, you were definitely unique, he thought. Destruction wrapped in a pretty bow. Apocalypse concealed in a tiny body made of frost and light. And yet, here the murderous creature was, leaning on him, soothed by his presence. Docile.

Or she will break you.

You wriggled again, unconsciously bringing your face closer to his in your sleep.

Aleksander’s jaw clenched for your plump, glossy lips were far too close to his — calling him. And while he tried to keep his willpower adamant, his body betrayed itself by starting to tremble lightly. He could feel his control fraying, the part of him that craves you warring with the part that knew better. 

You don’t see it, do you? She’s already in your heart, boy. 

A shaky breath escaped his famished mouth.

He shouldn’t allow himself this — this proximity, this vulnerability — but the sight of you, peaceful and unguarded, made him ache in a way he hadn’t thought possible. An ache that was spreading like fire through his veins, every detail of you feeding a yearning he had buried for multiple lives. Fuck, he swore in his mind, he craved you as a drowning man craved air: desperately. 

“You were right. You’re dangerous.” He whispered to the stillness as his fingers explored the fragile skin of your throat and relished the sensation of your pulse. The defiance you carried, your fury, your everything, it all drew him like a moth to a flame and the burn of it was equally ecstatic and painful, “Far more dangerous for me than you think, zyoma maya olya*...” (*moon of my life)

His lips brushed your forehead and laid a light kiss on it, light as a whisper, lingering just long enough to feel the coolness of your skin against his. It was a fleeting but spoke volume of that longing he struggled to contain. It was in these moments, when your walls were down, that resisting you became unbearable, his resolve slipping and his thought spiraling around the idea of how good it would be to touch you without hesitation. To grab you possessively and claim every inch of your skin with his hands and mouth. 

Aleksander gently pressed his forehead against yours then, his eyes shut tight for an instant as he chased away the following thought: What would it be to kiss you? The question scorched his mind, stoking the flames of a desire he couldn’t tame. Suddenly, the tall darkness clenched his fist until his nails bit into his palm, doing so in the desperate hope that physical pain could ground him. Could hold him back from the abyss he teetered on. 

For centuries, loneliness had been his shield — but now, with you so near, it felt like a prison.

“Slow, boys! Slow!” 

The distant sound of the cab man as well as the echo of hooves on stone snatched him from his trance: the King’s Court was nearby. Aleksander let out a long exhale and reopened his eyes, casting one last glance at your enthralling face before straightening his posture while still ensuring that you remained comfortably nestled against him. 

“Time to wake,” He finally said, his voice gentler than he intended.

“Are we there yet?” You asked, your drowsy eyes meeting his briefly after you woke up and, for a fleeting instant, he thought he saw a flicker of genuine trust in the vast desert of your irises. 

“We are.” His arms left your shoulders to let you brace yourself.

“Hmm’kay…” Straightening, you smoothed your hair anxiously and quickly rubbed the Sandman’s dust out of your eyes. 

“One last thing…” Aleksander started.

“Yes, my General?” You asked, your voice raspy with sleepiness.

“I beg you to keep in mind that whatever might happen, whatever the King will say, I’ll be by your side. Through and through.”

Forever and always.

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[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄.

synopsis. time and time again, fate seemed to forcibly tear cloud and sephiroth away from one another, and it’s come to do that again. can they resist destiny?

genre. angst

tw. references to death, implications of anxiety, major character death, descriptions of blood, mild gore.

event. sefikuramuse2024 ( week 4 bc i just found out. )

prompt. free choice / resistance + neutron star collision ( love is forever )

notes. bawling i wish i had found out sooner abt this event, i love muse sm ugh and their music fits sfkr so well</3 but uh, better late than never! little shorter than what i usually write, but i have a longer oneshot rotting in my drafts so i will upload that once it’s finished<3

sephiroth x cloud strife.

"cloud, we can only outrun destiny for so long.." sephiroth frowned, glancing down at the hand that squeezed his own so tightly, urging him to keep up. "in the end, they will once more pit us against one another until we are torn apart by drastic means." what would it be this time, turned to ash when the world burns? one remaining while the other joins the stars above? or watching the other die to some other cosmic force that is not by means of their respected blade?

the male in question shook his head. "i don't care." he bit back immediately, out of breath. "we're not.. gonna end up following the same fucking narrative again- i'm tired of it. i'm tired of outside factors deciding our lives for us." horrible upbringings for every lifetime and the pressure of either being passed on the torch of destroying the planet or protecting it. it was exhaustingly repetitive, and outright cruel.

why them? why, of all the people inhabiting gaia, did it have to be them? could it not have been someone else? or nobody at all?

cloud never asked for this. never asked to carry the weight of the world and everyone else's wants on his shoulders. never asked for losing those he loved, and certainly never asked to be pitted against his other half. all he had ever wanted was to make a better life for himself and someday fight alongside the great war hero that had brought a ray of hope to his life.

and all sephiroth had ever wanted was a normal life. one without needles and discipline, one of free choice and liberty to think for himself- to do what he wanted to do and simply live the life that many others surrounding him had lived and taken for granted, all without having to lose anybody he dared allowed into his fragile heart.

instead, the planet and calamity found it sickeningly amusing to cast him in the role of the antagonist that had scorched the hometown of the one person that could have truly been the pillar of stability he had searched for all his life, and made an enemy out of him.

how ironic, to finally meet the one person that could have mended everything and made all the torment worth enduring, only to end up ultimately destroying each other's lives.

the look on the former general's face was pensive, bittersweet. "this is something beyond us, cloud.. i fear that resistance will be but fleeting- simply postponing the inevitable." he tried again, pursing his lips together. "the outcome will always turn out the same, no matter how differently we go about the way in which our stories play out." he couldn't count how many worlds he had traveled to now, filled with diverse tellings of the same narrative, but an equally similar outcome at the end, no matter how long it took to reach it.

this was just one of many worlds doomed to eventually fall as well, yet cloud.. cloud held firmly.

with gritted teeth, the self-proclaimed SOLDIER paused in his tracks, nearly crashing into his once nemesis to glare up at him. "this is not going to end up the same- you told me before that we could change things, that our destiny.. could be altered." he retorted frantically, mako tinted sapphires glossing in the light of the moon. "what happened to that? we did things differently- we're not.. we're not enemies here, everything's fine between us, w-we haven't hurt each other, either." inhale, exhale. "so why.. why are things not working out for us? it was supposed to work this time — you said it would!” what felt like eons ago now of that conversation they’d held at the edge of creation — a plane comprised solely of them two, proved to be a sliver of hope. a reassurance that it was possible to change fate if they worked together.

but it just, wasn't working.

they had tried, and tried, and tried some more. but the key events always played out the same way; the deaths avoided simply took place earlier or later, the black materia would still summon meteor, cloud would still lose his hometown to the wrath of his beloved under the poisonous influence of jenova, and then he would die at his hand.

"cloud, i.." sephiroth whispered brokenly, squeezing the other's hand. what was there left to say, when even he had no answers to those questions? "i know. and i am doing everything within my capabilities to go against the odds for us to be together without us being ruined in the process, but.." no matter what, it will just continue to end with my life being claimed by your blade, or the demise of this wretched planet.

the blond parted his lips to bite back a retort, only to close them soon after, as though understanding what was left unsaid. the good and bad endings, except to them- they were both bad. "so then, am i just.. not meant to be with you?"

cracked, slitted emeralds hardened with intensity as the taller trudged forward, pulling the shorter into the type of hug capable of knocking the breath out of a person from how little proximity is left behind. "you are meant to be with me- we fit together so perfectly like this, cloud." he breathed into the nest of golden tufts, squeezing the middle of his back as though the other might fade from his fingertips if he didn't. "you were made to be mine. neither the planet, nor jenova can tear you away from me or have you with another. i will not allow it."

he had lost just about everyone he had cared for throughout the course of his existence, cloud was his lifeline. sephiroth would not allow him to be paired with anyone other than himself. not the girlfriend of zack, nor the childhood friend of his beloved, and above all, gaia.

with shaky hands, the spiky haired mercenary brought them to wrap around his once nemesis' slim waist, letting out a breath into the chest he was met with as he burrowed his face deeper to hear the heartbeat separated by flesh and bone. "but they keep on trying to tear us apart.." he muttered hopelessly, tightening his grasp on the leather jacket beneath his gloved palms. "i-i can't kill you again, sephiroth- i can't do that.. they can't make me do it again. you said i'm yours, but what good is being yours if you're not mine, too? i'll be all alone again, i.." i just can't.

"you'll never be alone, cloud." the silver haired male cut in, shifting one hand to cradle the back of the other's head to his sternum. "a part of me is always inside of you, and will always allow for me to return to you. i am yours, and shall always be yours, that much is true." he reaffirmed, perhaps as a reassurance to himself, too. "the lifestream will never truly allow me to die and become one with the fallen due to my cells. the same would apply to you, in theory." with the amount of jenova's blood coursing through his veins, the planet would always spit him right back out, as though poisoned by his presence. it would be similar for his other half, as they shared the same infectious cells from the great calamity.

cloud shifted against him, biting his bottom lip to prevent it from trembling. "but if i die, it would be over for the both of us.." he whispered, looking up at him with unshed tears. "wouldn't it?"

it was his persisting memory of sephiroth that kept him alive, wasn't it? aside from the lifestream rejecting him for no longer fully being of the planet, it was the blond's memories that kept him whole.

silence befell the older as he gazed into the other's eyes, weighing the words that were expressed to him before letting out a hum. "i am.. uncertain." he answered at length, glancing away for a moment before returning his jade-colored orbs to expectant sapphire ones. "so i would rather not find out. you will not die on my watch, cloud. i would have this planet scorched and wiped off the face of the galaxy before it takes you away from me. your life is mine, as my own is yours."

for once, cloud found himself unable to protest against the planetary destruction. he was just so over everything, all he wanted was just to live a normal life with the silver that lined him.

he allowed himself to lean into the leather clad hand that now moved to cup his cheek, catching a stray tear. sephiroth's eyes were prettier up close, all of him was.

wordlessly, cloud got on the tips of his toes to claim the rosewood lips of his greatest adversary- his everything, as he had proclaimed in one of their lifetimes.

it wasn't as their usual kisses would be, packed with undying fervor, teeth and tongue, or those brief, delicate ones they would exchange. rather, it was filled with desperation, the want to forever share breath as though the air surrounding them had been polluted- death.

a twitch could be felt in his veins, one that made the ex-SOLDIER's right hand tremble, reluctantly falling from the quilted leather to reach behind him for a hilt protruding from his harness of blades.

a sphere of swirling nebulas appeared without request within the left palm of the former general, turning up begrudgingly against the sweater-like material to face the soon to be rust filled welkin.

tears streamed freely down freckled cheeks, salt tainting the flavor of their unyielding lip-lock. the end was nigh, the warmth of the great comet could be felt even from where they stood, kissing the planet's surface as the brightness flickered against the shimmer of first tsurugi.

an unspoken apology hung in the air as rouge colored the leathers separating skin from meeting skin, the taste of iron melting with what could be mistaken as seawater, and sweet death.

even still, neither dared to break away from the other, not wanting to let go even as another world came tumbling down.

notes. perhaps i should have put a warning for there not being a happy ending.. um, my bad guys</3 i hope it was okay despite the short length! if i had more time i would have done something more but school said no and gave me speeches to write instead😔

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[hana-no-seiiki]

Happy Holidays Everyone!! As promised this was finished and published before Christmas so I can work on official portraits. Enjoy your gift from your one and only god, Yun ♡

I don’t know where this takes place in the timeline for the HNSverse and my webtoons but we’ll just go with whatever the fuck was given to me in my dream.

Likes & Reblogs are much appreciated!!

YANDERE POWER RANGERS-ESQUE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS x AMNESIAC! MALE! RANGER READER

OPERATION : PRETTY PINK LIAR ♡

tw/cw: dddne. yandere fic typical violence. mech/scifi fantasy violence. off-screen character deaths. in this version reader is male. check the masterlist for other versions of the fic. your name appears as [ REDACTED ]. one-sided semi-cestuous pining(by yan). brief mention/implication of cheating. necrophillia (implicit). descriptions of gore/violence.

fic type: long oneshot

status: unedited

[ MASTERLIST / CHARACTER APPEARANCES ]

When humanity needed them the most, the Elemental Squad Unit came to save the day. Composed of Earth’s mightiest, most righteous men, they drive those wretched aliens away. Protecting our daily lives, while risking their own.

That was the story often told to the people. Those who lived blissfully unaware of the turbulence in heaven. Everyone knew of the ESU, whether they liked it or not.

“[Y/N]. You really don’t have to do this y’know.” Blue Ranger: Kaguya, repeated. He had medium length navy hair tied into a ponytail. He was short, cute almost. Sparkle shaped freckles dotted the middle of his face. Throughout your stay in the hospital, he had been the second most frequent visitor. He always touched you in one way or another. His fingers always grazed a part of your body. His eyes in a glaze as he’d stare at your injured figure. You found out it was because you two were dating or had a mutual interest towards one another . . . you think. At least in the eyes of the other crew members.

To you he was just a rando that always seemed to ignore your boundaries. Even when you were adamant with keeping a certain distance.

You tried your best not to flinch every time he came close, meticulously concealed any involuntary reactions, and strived to maintain an unwavering composure. It was difficult being so intimate with a total stranger. What was more concerning was the way your heart wrenched at such occurrences. An unsettling sensation, leaving you with a peculiar awareness that the narrative he presented was a well crafted farce.

You rolled your eyes at his worried face. It felt so off on him. Instead of the average look of concern one might show towards an ill individual, Blue’s expressions and tone always came off as haughty, snobbish, pitying, condescending. Red assured you that it was just what Blue sounds like all the time due to his background but you still couldn’t help but grimace as you spat back, “The squad has almost been eliminated thrice since I’ve woken up and was able to watch the news. I think I do.”

Yellow Ranger: Malik, shook his head. Despite being the tallest and rather gruff looking in comparison to the other members, his nagging often made all the intimidation in your nerves melt away. He had been the worrier you observed. Except that his worry usually came in massive spiels and sermons that threatened to have your ears bleed if you so much as breathed the wrong way. He was the complete opposite of Blue. Fitting when you weighed in his hometown — the kingdom on the other side of the planet of Blue’s. Harsh and condescending on the outside, a complete softie on the inside. “You don’t even know how your suit works! And it hasn’t been responding properly to your commands—“

You sighed as the brunette continued, delicately slipping a hand into the control unit positioned before you. Your fingers glided within akin to a nimble set of needles, traversing through the viscous, gelatinous substance within the intricate contraption. Abruptly, the entirety of the suit burst into a vibrant display of illuminating hues.

【 SUIT ACQUISITION SUCCESS 】

You fought the wide grin from appearing on your visage as you completely enclosed yourself into the suit. The odd, metal like material encased your form. You closed your eyes for a couple of moments, embracing the darkness and the brief second of peace you had without the other team members on your 6, before opening it to see the outside world beyond your suit’s controls. Completely in your view despite your current location and condition. Holographic graphs and charts on the edge of your peripherals.

“Ranger Pink. Welcome back.” The leader of the ESU, Red Ranger: Jasper, smacked the rose colored sentinel. He was your half-brother as you’d learnt. With features similar to your own. Tall, muscular, he towered many of the members. You spotted a lot of scars throughout his body, a few could be found accompanying his facial features; lips, eyebrows, his nose.

In the advent of this world’s technology, those scars could have easily been removed. In fact you knew the procedure was popular with many of your other members. Yet Red refused to do so.

“I’ll accompany them.” Blue ran off to his sentinel. His steps leaving a layer of water across the launch pads in his excitement.

“Blue . . .” Yellow reached out to him, only for Blue to brush his hand aside and eagerly jumped inside his suit.

Green Ranger: Zelenka chimed as he chewed on a špekáček, “Way to be obvious about what his dick thinks.”

“Green!” Yellow smacked him at the back of his head.

Green only grumbled, not at all surprised, bothered or in pain. His face blank, and eyes drifting off in boredom, “It was a compliment. At least Blue is honest about getting hard when Pink’s around. Unlike some people.”

“S-shut your goddamn mouth.” Yellow gave one last ‘hmph’ before he stalked off of the platforms.

Green gave the seething man a brief glance before his eyes wandered to his own sentinel. After a long sigh, he got inside.

Finally, Red provided a go signal, and the three rangers took off. Their sentinels; gigantic, metalic humanoid stepping from within the Ranged HQ and into the deep dark ocean.

Red smiled to himself, rotating his body to walk to his own suit’s platform for his own set of missions, nonchalantly speaking into the air. “Black. Ensure nothing . . . unfortunate happens with Pink.”

A figure clad in black emerged from the shadows. Much larger than even the ESU leader’s form.

“Understood.”

【　MEMORY UNLOCKED 】

Accessing files . . .

“. . .”

As consciousness gently clawed its way back to the surface, a haze of confusion shrouded the mind. Blinking away the remnants of slumber, [ REDACTED ] ‘s eyes slowly adjusted to the harsh, artificial lighting of the hospital room. A flicker of anxiety danced across their thoughts.

“You’re . . . awake!” A muffled voice entered their ears. The sensation of cool, crisp sheets under fingertips became apparent, offering a peculiar contrast to the warm cocoon of blankets. And as their sense of touch returned so did their full hearing capacity.

A face, dark tan — excessively alluring really, your gaze was immediately glued — with golden eyes reminiscent of the blaring sun covered most of your vision.

“You goddamn idiot! I- I was so worried. Why’d you protect me?! I could’ve handled it y’know?!”

“Easy, Yellow.” Another voice. But you could not move your body to view them. But with such a beauty right in front of you, did you really want to?

“To hell with that.” The pretty boy continued, “You hear me, Pink? I’m one of the original three. I am above you. I don’t need your god damned pity. Or anyone else’s! Especially not a nepo baby like—“ His pointer landed on your chest, painfully despite the massive amounts of bandages the surrounded your nearly eviscerated body.

“Yellow, that’s enough.” The voice popped out again, this time more authoritative and firm. You see a gloved hand reach from behind and grab ‘Yellow’s’ shoulder.

“No, I need to hear it from him directly! Tell me you won’t do this again!”

“Your Majesty, I don’t think—“ This time another voice advised the young man in front of you. They sounded a lot more frail, older.

“Answer me, bastard!”

“. . . Who . . .” You breathed, struggling to form words as every second you remained conscious was agonizing as it much less when you produced any sort of moved. “. . . Who are you?”

The more delicate voice spoke up once more. Your vision was starting to turn blurry and dark. “As I was saying, I’m afraid Ranger Pink has sustained too much damage in the battlefield.”

On a more solemn tone they added, “We did the best we could do.”

“Who . . . are these . . . people . . ?”

You fought with everything to stay awake. You truly did. But as the moments passed and the world around you started spinning and blending into itself, you could not resist the temptation to close your eyes. Your once anxious mind now slowly faded into serene clarity.

【　MISSION ACCOMPLISHED 】

The world was lot more vibrant than you expected it to be. Everything looked apocalyptic whenever you watched the ESU in battle. The only thing that signaled an invasion was happening was the occasional alien and buildings that were being repaired post-fight.

You marveled at the view around you, almost in a daze.

The sound of a lazer being shot snapped you out of your stupor.

“The hell—?! Green! That’s friendly fire you mani—“ Blue hollered.

You’re sure that if this man were any more petulant his suit itself would be stomping the ground in anger.

“I just saved you, your highness.” Green’s suit does a curtsy. He then pointed to the dead blob on the ground.

“Thank you, Green.” You bowed back.

“Hahaha! I like the new Pink. Maybe he should never recover his memories—“

“Had an Alien on your shoulder.” Blue deadpanned after shooting a jet of high pressure water towards Green.

“Bullshit.”

You grinned at their antics. You almost couldn’t believe that these were the saviors of humanity. One of if not the only line of defense against its extinction. But then grimaced at an indicator flashing within the corner of your vision. “Enemy at 7 o’clock.”

“On it.” Blue’s sentinel hurried to the scene, moving around as if it were swimming in the air.

Green cursed. It wasn’t just a normal enemy. “Shit. It’s a full on ship.”

“We have to re-unite with —“

Green is promptly taken down. A group of fliers came at him like vultures to corpse.

“Pink!” Blue screamed, swiftly flying to close to you once more. His suit takes yours’ hand and held it tight.

“. . .” You looked at him, almost angered that he tore your attention away from Green’s potential demise.

“We have to fuse. You’ve seen the squad do it on the news right?”

“Ain’t no way I’m fusing with—“ Green screeched as he fought off the bird like creatures. Vines reaching to grapple the them, but are promptly sliced by support from above: the main ship.

“Well I didn’t ask you did I?” Blue practically hissed at him. When you saw the ESU fight before they seemed so in sync, now you were starting to understand why these men kept on almost dying recently.

“Will Green be alright?”

“You heard him. He doesn’t want to fuse.”

It takes you moments to reply and hesitantly you finally responded with, “Okay.” You nodded, closing your eyes as Blue’s sentinel moved towards you, melding into your suit.

Your eyes flutter open. You’re surrounded with water, but somehow you were able to breathe. You see Blue’s figure beside you.

“. . . Your interface.” He looked over to your system, most of which has been covered in the ooze aliens were typically made of.

You must have been infected while Green was first attacked, hence the reluctance to fuse.

“Enemies” You reminded.

“Right.” Blue shook his head. Every ESU member was taught to put the mission before their own well-being. He had a natural resistance to infection due to his cockpit’s watery environment. It should help stave off the infection for enough time until back-up arrives.

“Let’s switch forms this time.” He suggested. If he took more control he’d be able to help fight the infection off better. “Flight mode ON!”

A chase begun. You and Blue flew at a breakneck speed, leading the ship and birds away from any nearby cities and Green. While fused, you could feel what Blue felt. Anxiety, fear. Perhaps this was how the team worked together properly. It was hard not to empathize when these emotions were shoved in your face.

You release one of your hands from your interface and place it on his shoulders.

You feel a sudden wave of warmth. Calm.

“You forgot the boosters.” You advised, hoping to jog his memory a little in this moment of extreme pressure and stakes.

He fumbled, causing your fused sentinels to dip for a moment, but was able to activate the booster in time. Creating a workable distance

“Shit, we’re heading straight into a city.”

Panic returns to your senses once more. You release your hold over his shoulder. With a smile, an idea popped into your head and you take over.

“Perfect, I got this.”

You shove the hand you used to comfort him back into the sludge and take control. The whole cockpit turned pink with swirling black tendrils.

The enemy followed you as you passed a bridge leading into a city.

“What are you doing?! You’re going to get people killed!” Blue attempted to override your command but found himself unable to.

You try to keep the sentinel above most of the building as to avoid making the alien ship collide and cause unnecessary casualties.

You soon reach the center where a monstrous skyscraper stood. You figured out from watching other members use flight mode that it was based off of the distance from underneath the suit to its main hull. As such, if you went up close to scale the wall of such a tall building . . .

【　TARGET LOCKED 】

The system prompted you and Blue as your soared through the skies and above the aliens.

You waste no time and shoot. A beam of electricity, water, and . . . shadow? releases — piercing straight through the tar like material. You made sure to destroy the wings of the birds and the flight mechanisms of the ship.

And as an extra assurance you fly back down, switch modes once more, and use the suit to stomp on their soon-to-be corpses.

As you float back down to check, you spot an aura of shadowy wisps clinging unto the wreckage. It seemed to be minimizing the damage surrounding the area via changing the material’s weight.

“Black. Thank you for the assist.”

Black Ranger: Noir. Close friends with the White Ranger. They looked nothing alike, acted nothing alike, and you never saw them even speak to one another. But they worked in terrifying efficiency together — scout missions — and as such were assigned into a sub-unit that rarely ever crossed paths with the main ESU.

Red was watching over you.

Your body tensed in the suit.

“No problem.” Black muttered. He was a man of few words. Rarely ever seen. You don’t think he even wants to be.

“We should go check on Green”

【　MEMORY UNLOCKED 】

Accessing files . . .

“My name is [ REDACTED ]. It’s a pleasure to join your team!”

Your introduction was fine you think. Jasper told you not to make it too long as the team was usually chasing time enough as it is. You even added a bow at the end, in both the Lunar and Solar Kingdom’s variation as to show your respect and admiration for the team.

“I can’t believe this. Another one? Green is already a pain in the ass.” Yellow reacted first. You flinched at his reaction, which made his demeanor soften for a brief moment before it returned to its domineering self.

“Yellow.” Red glared at him, this time semi-permanently making Yellow sink into himself. “Welcome to the team, brother.”

Blue does not respond nor look at your direction. A grim expression painted his pretty features.

“Guess I’m not the only newbie anymore! What should I call ya?” Green vibrantly beamed. Poking your cheeks as he munched on a bag of cheese puffs. No doubt making the dust stick to your face with his saliva.

“P-Pink would be fine.”

“Pinkie it is!” Green laughed letting go of his snack and hugging you tightly.

Your hands slowly, inch by inch, raised hug him back.

“Your vital signs are all fine.” You mused as you put down sphygmomanometer.

“Thanks for your concern, Pinkie.”

You shook your head. There was no concern here. “No problem. We simply can’t lose our healer. That would be a dire situation.”

“Pffft— I’ll be up and about after a day no problem.” He waved his hands. Well, a hand. His other one was broken and almost completely detached from his body when you busted him out of his sentinel. He was able to heal it enough to somewhat move it safely, but otherwise it was unusable.

“ . . . Red is considering taking you off the team.”

“. . . What . . ?”

“He says you’re too much of a liability. Your conduct and lack of cooperation that is.”

“Lack of cooperation my ass.” Green sat up and straightened his back with a grunt. “What do you get by telling me this? I’m guessing you aren’t supposed to?”

“If he’s kicking you out I’m coming down with.”

“Pinkie . . . “

“You’re a valuable member to the team.”

“Hey, do you . . . do you have a name I can call you by? Your actual one I mean.” Green leaned his forehead against yours.

He peered into your eyes. The once pink color had now slowly faded into black with swirls of purple.

What was he asking? He knew your name.

And then you realized.

“. . . I don’t have one.”

“Then I guess I’m stuck with calling you Pinkie?” He smiled holding your cheek. Sluggishly his face tilted moved closer to yours —

“Get your hands off of him!” A whiny voice resounded throughout the medbay’s room.

“Augh, your highness. Can’t you see I’m having a moment with your ex?”

Dazed you pushed the Ranger away from you and left the room, bumping shoulders with Blue.

You were able to get quite a distance away and were about to take a long sigh in relief. You were too exhausted for the other member’s antics and drama.

“[Y/N]—!” Blue panted. It seemed that he ran after you. In any case, he yanked you by the wrist to face him. “I- I’m . . . I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That we used to be—“

“In a relationship? I knew. White told me.”

“That bastard—“

“May you let go of me? I have another check up.” You raised your wrist and his hand, shaking it a little.

“No!” He shouted. You gave him a shocked look which led to him lowering his voice and talking in a nervous, timid manner. “L-look, we can make this work. Alright? I don’t want us to just — end up like this.”

You do not sugarcoat your words and simply spoke “Blue. To me you’re a stranger.”

You continue even after he flinched at your words. “I don’t know you. Coupled with the fact that you purposely hid something as big as that makes your reliability questionable at best.”

You watched as his face morphed into sadness, then grief,

“I’ll make the judgment when my memories come back. Until then . . . It’s a no.”

and lastly, anger.

“No? No! Do you think you can say no to me?” He squeezed your wrist and you hear bones crack.“I’m the goddamn crown prince of the Lunar Empire! I get what I want and—“

“And you need to get off your high horses.” You halted him from his spiel. “We’re all equal here. As rangers. As defenders of humanity. Only Red has the right to be ordering the rest. You’re the prince aren’t you? Go find another potential mistress. I’m not doing this to Yellow.”

“But I . . .” Blue’s tone finally went back to it’s more quiet and tolerable version. “I need you.”

You feel Blue’s hold slacken and immediately took the moment to pull your hand away.

“You disgust me.” And you walked off.

You heard him falling to his knees as he cried. Yet you do not look back.

The control room wasn’t a place many team members went to. It was implicitly known that it was Red and his most trusted entourage’s domain.

You weren’t a part of that group. Not even from the memories you’ve slowly started to gain.

But this matter was of utmost importance.

“I’d like to be taken off the team.” You said as the doors slid open. A robotic greeting could be heard in the background, signaling your entrance.

From your rare visits, it was mostly where Red and White would plan out patrols and store their information about the invading forces. The place remained unchanged. Most likely due to Green’s lack of interference in the decor, and overall organization.

“If this is about Green, then don’t worry. I’ve changed my—”

“It’s about Blue.”

Red looked more alert. His head flicked from the various screens inside the room to your direction. Finally looking at you directly. “I told you two that a relationship would be detrimental to the future of the squad. But none of you ever listen. See what happens?”

Beside him, Ranger White: Blanc, mumbled yet it was audible enough to be heard by you from across the room. “Let’s be frank here, Red. You said that because you were jealous.”

“White—?“

You didn’t know Red could even be flustered. He always seemed so level-headed, so dangerously focused on the task of eliminating the invaders that anything aside from a stoic look on his face looked . . . well . . . out of place.

“Red. It’s easy to see your favoritism.” Unlike him, White’s eyes do not leave the screens. The man’s void like eyes were trained unto the replay of the fight you just had.

“Aren’t we . . . siblings ?” You questioned. You weren’t unaware of his feelings. But you always viewed it as a over-protective if not suspicious brotherly act. Thinking of it otherwise . . . vile.

“Oh honey, you two aren’t completely blood related remember?” White swiped to another angle of the battle. “At least that’s what Red keeps reminding himself in order to lessen the guilt he feels lusting over you.”

“But — “

And then he suddenly looked at you.

Void meeting tar.

“Much less now that you’re hosting an alien parasite.

Fear. It was such a human concept. The way your heart thrashes within the confines of its boney cage. The way your mind goes blank. The way your instincts take over and all you could do is either fight, run or freeze.

You chose silence. Cursing this human shell for glueing your mouth shut and feet to the floor.

“What are you talking about?” Red gripped White’s clothes. A jacket you’ve often seen him wear that completely engulfed his body.

Completely unbothered by Red’s actions, White continued, “I was wondering why you weren’t able to get your suit activated at first. But suddenly you’re able to control it with ease. Better than you were able to from before actually.”

He then brings up a tablet of your previously brutalized state. Ooze of black, violet and magenta coming from every orifice and wound. Your bones mangled in a way that seemed almost uncanny. Viscera from all sorts of organs on display. If you were anything but an ESU member you’d been twice dead. You feel your . . . this body’s stomach reel at the way it was treated.

“Green wasn’t able to heal you either, you had to ‘recover’ the old fashion way. I bet he knows too.”

You know of that memory. Green was all over you that day. He was a sobbing mess. He was always trying to help you recover, until you gained consciousness he spent countless nights without sleep or much sustenance just trying to figure out why he couldn’t help.

Zelenka. He was one human you’ll spare to move unto to the next phase of your plan. Such selflessness and kindness deserve recognition after all.

But back to the matter at hand.

“That the original pink ranger is dead and only a gooey parasite in the brain remains.”

Red released his hold on White, turning to you in a flash, and in a gentle manner he laid his hands atop your shoulder.

“[Y/N], tell me this isn’t true.” His red eyes were overflowing with grief, held back by a single, cracking dam. You shivered internally at its uncanny look. His face devoid of emotion suited him far better. “You know I’ll only believe in you. Whatever you say, I will follow.”

You looked down, mustering all the tears you could squeeze out of your vessel’s eyes.

“He’s lying, brother — no — Jasper. I’m alive. I’m right here in front of you.”

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.” Jasper placed his head right atop your chest, “I can hear your heart beating. You’re still alive.”

“Red? Are you listening to yourself? Of course your brother looks and sounds alive. A parasite is puppeting his body, forcing his heart to beat, his eyes to blink, his limbs to move. But he’s dead.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Noir?

Black approached from the shadows. Without his suit you can finally see his handsome face. Dark skin and hair like the night sky, and white eyes that lacked pupils.

“You can’t be serious. . .”

“Dead or alive. At least [Y/N]’s body is here with us. Don’t you see it, Blanc? God has given us the opportunity to be with him again.” Black’s face was smeared with an expression akin to religious ecstasy. A fervor so unlike him that it gave you a whiplash harder than Red’s sudden change.

“Are you going to take that opportunity away from me Blanc?” Black’s hand reached to carress White’s pale features.

And with those words White visibly turned docile. “No. No, of course not.”

“Good.” Black planted a kiss atop White’s hair and forehead. “Now what was this about you leaving the team, [Y/N]?”

[ PRESENT TIME ]

Humanity was far from salvation. As such, your kind, the so-called ‘Alien Race’ were sent to end their suffering.

In a world where billions of their currency went into glorified missile measuring contests, you were there to reset them back to zero. To their naive, infantile, god fearing state.

“Your Majesty. The carriage to the Lunar Kingdom has arrived. The mission in the Northern Front was successful. Reinforcements will arrive in due time.”

Planting yourself into the world was an easy feat. Although you missed your designated target and occupied a much weaker vessel than you intended to, it ended up being a boon. It barely took a decade before you wiped out humanity’s biggest defenders from their main planet. Only a few more left standing.

You stared up into the heavens. The moon and sun’s destined reunion shall signal a start of a new age and you were its herald. Smoke billowed and obscured part of the sky, but the celestial bodies’ light still remained visible in the sky.

“Good.”

You arose from your throne of corpses. You felt no guilt, not an ounce of remorse for the genocide of billions. You knew this was for their own good. Besides, you have done this several times before. In the end, humanity would thank you, even see you as the deity you served. Not that you would want that. You were to loyal to Them after all.

“Let us break down Humanity back to its roots.”

You took your seat upon the helm of your army’s main commanding vessel. A large rose-like entity that covered at least a few cities below.

“Praise be to the Divine.”

“Praise be to the Divine.”

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I feel like this was just a glimpse into what this part of the HNSverse was like so I’ll be glad to make this into a holiday tradition instead of a one-parter if this post is successful.

And yes the romance/elements between the members is a Genshin reference.

[myvelvetvows]

Alice Heywood Musings… post lady whistledown reveal

tw: dissociation, emotional distress, coercion, manipulation, implied trauma

mentions: oliver heywood, juliet thorpe (indirectly), william erwood, cassandra lockridge

The night was a symphony of delicate laughter and whispered promises, a thousand glimmers of light. The Midsummer’s Night Dream ball was meant to be a fantasy—a night where the world forgot its rules and let magic breathe life into the air. But for Alice Heywood, it felt more like a cage. Her back was pressed against the cool column, her gloved fingers brushing lightly along the surface as though grounding herself to something real. The weight of her silk gown was familiar, the fine embroidery a testament to her skill and ambition. But tonight, it felt heavier than usual.

Too much.

Her head was spinning, her mind a labyrinth of tangled thoughts that refused to quiet.

Oliver.

Her heart ached at the thought of her brother—her protector, her confidant, the only person who had stood by her through everything. And now…Now, his world was about to be torn apart. A noblewoman. A secret affair. And a child. Lady Whistledown did not reveal the specifics but Alice knew it be a matter of time before that truth was known to the public. Alice had warned him. She had begged him to be careful, to understand that love between their worlds could lead to ruin. But Oliver… Oliver had always believed in the goodness of people. He had always been so much softer than her, so much more willing to give his heart without weighing the consequences. And now, the consequences were here. The whispers had already begun, slithering through the crowd like venom, their sting growing sharper with every passing moment. Alice squeezed her eyes shut, her jaw tightening as her heart twisted painfully. She had spent her entire life protecting Oliver. But this? This was beyond her control.

And then there was William.

Alice’s throat tightened as her thoughts shifted, her mind circling back to the man who had stirred something inside her—something she had not dared to name. She had not expected to care. She had not wanted to care. But William had been… kind. He had seen her beyond her needle and thread, beyond the polished façade she wore so carefully.

Cassandra, her friend.

Alice had seen it now—too clearly to ignore. The familiarity between them. The warmth in Cassandra’s smile, the way William’s gaze softened when he looked at her. They had a history.

And Alice? She had been blind.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her head bowing just slightly as her mind spun with the realization that she had been nothing more than a passing amusement. How foolish. She had built an empire with her own two hands. She had fought tooth and nail for everything she had. And yet… her heart had dared to hope for something more.

It was always going to end this way. Alice had never been the woman men chose in the end. She was too sharp, too independent, too ambitious for their delicate tastes. And now, William has proven that truth once again. But none of that compared to the weight pressing against her chest—the weight of her secret. Her own carefully guarded truth, now dangerously close to unraveling.

They know.

Not everything. Not yet. But Lady Whistledown’s column had come too close. Too close to the truth that Alice had buried so deeply it had nearly suffocated her.

“Miss Heywood has been paid off by a noble family to keep a secret that threatens their reputation, all in return for her victorious success in Mayfair.”

Alice’s hands clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms beneath her gloves.

They don’t know. They can’t.

But the implications were there, hovering just beneath the surface like a shadow she could never quite outrun.

Blood money.

The fortune that had lifted her from the ashes of ruin. The money that had secured her future, built her dream, and carved her place in Mayfair. Money that had come at a price she would never speak aloud.

Money that had been forced upon her.

Her stomach twisted, her breath catching as the memories clawed their way to the surface—memories she had spent years trying to bury beneath silk and lace, beneath ambition and success. She had not asked for that money. She had not wanted it. But when it had been thrust into her hands, when the weight of silence had been pressed down upon her, what choice had she been given?

Survive.

That had been her only option. Alice had taken that money because she had to. Because her life—her brother’s life—had hung in the balance.

And now…

Now that money was her curse. It had built her empire, yes. But it had also built the walls that now closed in around her.

If they knew the truth…

Alice’s throat tightened, her eyes burning as she stared out into the glittering crowd.

They would tear her apart.

Because society did not forgive women who did what they had to do to survive.

No.

Women like her did not get to survive unscathed.

Her chin lifted, her expression smoothing into cold, calculated indifference as she pushed the storm inside her back into its cage. But the ache… the ache remained. Because beneath the silk, beneath the sharp wit and ambition, beneath the wealth that had come at such a terrible price…

There was still a girl who had once dreamed of a life where love was kind.

A girl who had believed that goodness could triumph.

A girl who had been taken from her.

And Alice Heywood would never be that girl again.

[zero-to-zero-to-zero-again]

Pocket-Sized Sidekick (3)

Part One Part Two

Word Count: 1,829

TW's: Fear, Accidental Fearplay, Violence, Injury, Implications Of Past Abuse, Threats Of Violence, Mentions of Cults, Medical Stuff, Panic

Characters: C!Ranboo, C!Technoblade, C!Dream, C!Philza, C!Wilbur

Summary: Ranboo's officially been de-masked in front of a group of villains. At least that means things can't get any worse...right?

Ranboo drew in a hissing breath between his teeth.

"Would you please sit still? I'm not used to doing stitches on people this small."

That was one of the first things Ranboo learned about Wilbur. He never held anything back. Frankly, it was becoming a challenge for Ranboo to hold back everything he wanted to say in retaliation. He'd been laying there getting stabbed by a needle nearly as tall as him for at least half an hour. Even with the attempt at numbing the area, it felt like an eternity.

"You did stitches on a cat once," the Blood God pointed out. He'd been idly clicking through something on the laptop sitting on the kitchen counter. Ranboo was surprised he'd been paying attention at all given how engrossed he'd seemed it whatever he was reading on that screen.

"You are aware that cats are larger than six inches tall, right?" Wilbur snapped.

"Small is small."

The brunette let out a frustrated huff.

"Phil told you not to bother me."

"He did but he was givin' me those 'don't let Wilbur out of your sight' eyes."

"He was not."

"You just don't notice because he's always got that look."

"Done!" Wilbur announced with a final snip. Ranboo could only assume that meant that was the last bit of thread being cut. Should he be thanking this guy for what he'd done? Sure, he'd tended to his injuries but he was still a villain. Thanking a villain was probably listed on the unspoken rules of being a hero right between being kidnapped by a villain and showing your face to a villain.

He slowly pushed himself to sit upright. His bruises still stung like crazy but at least the majority of his fractures had been dealt with and cuts bandaged. Wilbur never really shared his assessment of Ranboo's injuries but from the repetitive "Yeesh" 's from the villain, he could only imagine there was a lot of work to be done.

Wilbur scooped his jacket up off the back of the couch.

"Where are you going?" the Blood God demanded.

The brunette threw a guitar case over his shoulder.

"Out," he announced vaguely.

"Aren't you supposed to be looking after the kid?"

Wilbur rummaged through the cubbies next to the door until he uncovered a pair of keys from the clutter.

"Phil told me to clean him up. He's about as good as he's going to get so I'm out of here." Wilbur paused on the way out to shoot the Blood God a look over his shoulder. A coy smile tugged on his lips. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine until Phil comes back. You're great with kids."

Wilbur managed to yank the door shut behind him just as a dagger lodged itself in the wood where his head was only seconds ago. The brunette's laughter retreated into the night, making way for a tense silence to fall over the house. Ranboo's teeth ground together.

He dared to sneak a peek at the villain sitting only a single room over. It was odd. Ranboo knew that Corvus was a supervillain but he walked around out of costume in his own house. That made sense. Wilbur was a villain by association at the very least but if he worked in the field, he probably had a costume too. Not once had he donned in it while Ranboo was there.

The Blood God, on the other hand, had yet to change out of that signature uniform of his. The cape, the skull, the gaudy boots. The whole package was admittedly a bit too extra to be typical loungewear. If it was all for the sake of ensuring Ranboo was kept on edge then, damn, it was working.

The boar's skull snapped in Ranboo's direction. The abrupt motion caused an instinctual reaction in the sidekick, sending him scrambling to focus on literally anything else in the room. The villain sighed.

"So why's Hero Corps exploiting child labor? Indoctrinating adults into their little cape cult get too pricey?" he asked.

Nothing about that question was accurate but it wasn't like Ranboo was in any position to correct him. He wasn't sure he was in a position to say anything, honestly. So he didn't.

"What, did that one hypno-hero hit you with a tongue tying spell or somethin'? What's he like? Fun at parties?"

The beats of silence passed at an agonizingly slow pace for both parties trapped within the tense atmosphere. The Blood God groaned.

"Come on, kid, give me somethin' here," he practically begged.

Ranboo shifted uncomfortably. There was nothing he could say that he wouldn't be reprimanded for when he got back to HQ. If he got back to HQ. As scary a prospect as that was, the fact that he was more likely to never get home was even scarier.

"W-why the skull mask?" Ranboo tried. Maybe if he couldn't answer questions, asking them would help pass the time a bit quicker for the both of them.

"What, this?" The Blood God asked, drumming his fingernails against hollow bone. Ranboo nodded meekly. The villain's insouciant demeanor went dismal all at once. "It's not a mask. It's just my face."

The sidekick's blood ran ice cold. He couldn't even hide his mortified expression when he turned back to the man in the kitchen. What? How was that even possible? Sure, people got bizarre mutations when super powers started popping up but this had to be one of the strangest ones that Ranboo had ever seen. Not even the attributes of a bore, just its skull where your head should have been? It made his stomach churn thinking about how that worked.

The Blood God snorted.

"I'm messing with you," he chuckled.

He was...oh. The sidekick's shoulders sagged. As indignant as Ranboo was to be toyed with, he had to admit that it was a relief knowing it was all a farce. He hadn't even realized his jaw had dropped open until he shut it with a click. He couldn't help but laugh, though his was more incredulous than a product of the Blood God's sense of humor-if you could even call it that.

"Just thought it was a cool gimmick, I guess. Didn't wanna look like every other loser in a mask and a cape. What about you? They force you to wear that fashion faux-pax of a suit or are you just really into gray?"

"It's a uniform," Ranboo said. He couldn't think of a single sinister thing that the guy could do with that sort of information beyond mocking him a little further.

"Of course it is. Is that where you get your shrinking power from, too?"

Ranboo stiffened. Momentary distraction over. The villain really was just trying to pry info out of him. Of course he was. That was literally his job. He wasn't really as mad at the guy for nearly getting him to give up some top secret Hero Corps info as much as he was at himself for almost doing it.

The way the color drained from Ranboo's face must have given away the answer to that intrusive question all the same.

"Don't mean to sound like a jackass but you don't really handle yourself like a hero who's used to being small. I mean, I did see you get punted across an alleyway so..."

Ranboo fought to keep his expression flat. Maybe that was the reason all those heroes wore masks; to hide just how scared the poor bastards behind them were. Ranboo wished more than anything that his helmet wasn't cracked to pieces so he could shove it back on and leave it there.

"If it's broken, we can try to fix it," the Blood God pointed out.

"No! You can't touch it!" Ranboo blurted, grabbing the suit from beside him and holding it in a white-knuckled grip. The last thing he needed was to hand over some of Hero Corps' most advanced tech to their most dangerous competition.

It took far too long for Ranboo to actually realize what he'd done. When it dawned on him, it hit him like a brick to the teeth. His heart stuttered in his chest. Maybe yelling at his villainous captor wasn't really the smartest idea. He knew what happened when he raised his voice. One of the first lessons he'd learned under Dream's guidance. And that was when he was a fairly normal height.

Standing only a few inches tall in front of someone with far worse intentions than his mentor's, he didn't stand a chance of making it out alive.

"Geez, alright. I was just offerin'," the villain muttered. "Figured this whole thing might be a little easier if you weren't six inches tall."

Sure, like Ranboo was going to believe that this guy had nothing but good intentions towards the hero's sidekick he had in his possession. Then again, he wasn't wrong about his height putting him at a stark disadvantage. At six inches tall, the Blood God could probably just pry the suit out of his hands. As a matter of fact, Ranboo couldn't wrap his head around why he had yet to try.

"Hey, are you-"

Vvv Vvv

Saved by the buzz. Whatever question the Blood God was about to ask was swiftly interrupted by the vibration against the counter. He grabbed his phone. He went tense when he saw the screen. Without a word, he rose to his feet and slid the window behind him open.

He double checked the laces on his boots and the sword sheathed on his hip. Ranboo flinched at the squawk from just beyond the house. Wings beat at the air, a crow dipping in straight through the open window to land on the counter.

"Lead the way," the Blood God instructed.

The black bird tilted its head, turning over its shoulder to stare straight at Ranboo. A chill crawled up his spine at the extra attention.

"Oh, right. You-uh-you stay here," the villain commanded with all the conviction of a man who'd never held a leadership position. "I gotta go help Phil but I'll be back real soon."

Ranboo could only nod in reply. The villain dawdled. He stared at Ranboo a while longer, the sidekick doing his best not to meet the supervillain's sweeping gaze.

"'kay. Let's go," he tried again. The bird let out an ear-shattering squawk before claiming its perch atop the Blood God's shoulder. He slid out the door, ensuring that he clicked the lock into place on his way out.

The hero-in-training swallowed thickly. The silence was even more deafening than before. This certainly wasn't on his bucket list. He was all alone in a supervillain's hideout.

His eyes darted about the vacant space, snagging on the window over the sink. Wait. He was all alone in a supervillain's hideout. The curtains waved in the breeze, beckoning him forward. He'd be a fool not to answer that call.

~

College is kicking my butt so upload schedule is insanely chaotic but thank you to everyone who waited for this next part! :)

[paranoidginger]

Lab-rat Part 8

Tw: Medical Gore, implications of needles

The Medic managed to discuss a plan with Bait, deciding when the clone would be operated on, and how it would work. The first of a handful of operations would be a simple exploratory procedure intended to identify what the Red Medic had removed or replaced in the poor boy's body.

The exploratory surgery was planned for that evening, giving the Blu team's medic time to prepare while the clone got to know the rest of the team.

The demoman was clearly happy to see the man in one piece, and already looking so much better than he had when they had met.

"Take a look at ye, lad! Good tae see ya with some color in that face O' yers!" The Scotsman grinned as he helped the clone back to the common area in the base. After hearing that the medic needed someone to assist the newcomer, Demo was the first to volunteer, eager to check up on the man he and the scout had spotted on the battlefield. "I know ye already got the tour this mornin', but there's quite a few of us who are eager to have a chat with ye. If yer comfortable with talking, that is!"

There weren't many people in the common room, but the few that were there, namely the scout and pyro, were glad to talk with the blind clone, even if Pyro wasn't understandable, and Scout was mainly trying to brag about how he helped rescue the newcomer.

The Red medic paced his lab, seething quietly to himself. He lost his lab rat. The best possible subject he could have gotten his hands on. The Blu team had stolen his property. He created that man, he was his god. Fuck trying to capture the Blu team's intelligence, he was going to get that pathetic little clone back, and if that meant slaughtering the enemy medic, so be it.

The day passed by surprisingly fast as Bait was able to interact and socialize with the Blu mercenaries. A colorful and interesting group who taught him that he could smile... They were all so accepting of him, and even though his words were few and far between, it felt nice to use his voice for something other than screaming. Even the sniper, a quiet, somewhat rude individual, managed to tell him stories of hunting trips and misadventures.

Eventually, however, evening came, and the medic came to collect him. In a soft voice, the clone said his goodbyes and thanked his new friends for their stories, slight worry in his vaguely accented tone as the doctor led him away.

The clone was instructed to change out of his clothes for the day, and made to lie shirtless on the operating table, panic swelling in his chest as his skin touched the all too familiar cold surface.

"Zhis vill only hurt for a moment, just a pinch and zhen you von't feel anything I do." The doctor tenderly grabbed his patients arm, turning it over slightly as he tied something tight and uncomfortable around the clone's upper arm, beginning to poke lightly at the inner crook of his elbow. Bait could not help himself as a small whimper escaped him, the sharp pain in his arm causing him to let out a small yelp. "Shh, shh... It's okay, zhat's all. You're alright." The medic carefully removed the band from around his upper arm, removing a glove to gently pet the clone's hair.

It wasn't long before Bait began to feel rather numb to everything around him, a soft static sort of feeling enveloping his body as he heard the soft whirr of the medigun activating. He was still awake, but unaware as the Blu medic cut him open.

It was a miracle that the young man on the operating table was functioning as well as he was... So many parts were gone, and the cavities left behind were simply packed in with cotton and gauze... He was practically filled with gore-covered stuffing. His body was running on the bare minimum, it was no wonder that he was so sickly and frail... He was missing several ribs, and the ones that were still there were covered in healed over fractures and breaks... Part of the medic was grateful that the team's spy had simply been decapitated and kept alive as a disembodied head. The things that the other medic had done to this poor boy were beyond tragic and disturbing...

By the time the sedatives had worn off, Bait was closed back up and healed, the Blu Medic having made a detailed list of what he would need in order to properly repair the damages done to the clone. The Medic also had the idea of offering sleeping pills to the newcomer, in hopes that it would help to keep away nightmares the same way it helped the Spy. Whenever the Spy actually took his medication, at least. Bait cautiously accepted the offer. It was already late, and Nikolai was urging both him and his partner to get some sleep.

It was a strange, dreamless sleep for the clone, as he took the medication, but at the very least, he was able to finally make it through the night without interruption.

Part 7

@thatonesimp-e @realccre

[tht0nesimp]

Yandere killua x reader- Breathe

tw: medical malpractice, cuts (not self-inflicted), blood, vivisection(?), cursing, SADISM, punishment, mentions of escape

Breathe. You could ignore it, The sensation of the tubes, needles, and other medical supplies that you could practically feel on your skin already even though they all laid docile in the room

"It's going to hurt" Killua barely glanced at you, his hands were instead idly searching for something. "Aha" he whispered when he found the tool he had been searching for in the drawer for a few minutes since he'd strapped you down to this fucking bed

You tried to imagine that your attempt had worked, that you were on a train going to your inherited home on the beach while killua searched for you. But he doesn't seem to care about the tears that continued to form in your tired eyes and instead, he grabbed an IV bag as well as a thick needle, and a securement device he proceeded to shove the needle roughly into a vein in your restrained arms "benzodiazepines" he leaned in and whispered into your ear to speak that god awful drug that seemed to make every muscle relax, your brain felt too awake, but your body was numb and fuzzy, like it was encased in this invisible layer of impenetrable fluff that wouldn't let you move even slightly

"Can you feel this?" he tested, poking your leg gently, "mhm.." the ability to speak felt like it was being ripped away from you. He ran a scalpel across the width of your leg, thin blood masking some of the silver of the medical instrument which he quickly wiped off

This was hell, you regretted everything, He was using your fears against you and it was unfair, You just wanted to go back to being a normal person who dated who they wanted! You wanted to go back to not living on some hell-borne mountain full of cold assassins! Alas, the words quickly fizzle out as your reminded of the burning pain in your leg as killua wraps it in gauze

" 'm sorry" you gasp as he snips at your skin with a pair of forceps unceremoniously, "No your not, dont lie" you nod as much as the drugs would give you in slack for you to move your head. Tears finally start flowing and they only add to the pain since your restrained-not like the drugs would let you even if you weren't restrained- arms were unable to move to wipe them away

He showed you a small ounce of mercy by wiping a few away, even if the sensation of his hand against your skin was nearly hurl-inducing due to previous events. "If you ever lie again, ill cut you open" he extremely gently takes the scalpel and drags it down your stomach until he reaches where your shorts were clad on your waist

"Maybe i should make you wear a hospital gown?" he smiled cheekily as he watched you shake your head gently while groans escaped from your throat in place of pleading "Baka.." he chuckled a little bit and seemed to let the idea rest- at least for now- instead, he chose to adjust your IV "You know what youll need for the next couple months?" your eyes widen at the implication of months of this "treatment"

"A catheter"

Just breathe, dont look at the long tube

Dont feel him slip your shorts and panties down to your ankles

Just...

Breathe

[signsofthreecomic]

Signs of Three is a webcomic take on the Sherlock Holmes novels and shorts, taking familiar and beloved mysteries and adding a bit of modern science, organized crime, and queer energy.

A man found poisoned in his hotel room, a baby with needle wounds on her arm, an old man killed by a legend, a bride screaming in the night, a spy who took a bottle of acid to the face, and a criminal mastermind waiting in his web. John Watson never expected to find anything like this when he agreed to move into 221B Baker Street, all he wanted was some peace and quiet to heal from his time in Afghanistan, but now he's in for mystery and danger all too similar to what he faced overseas.

You should read Signs of Three if you...

Enjoy mysteries with cults, historical drama, and spies

Like Queer representation in fiction

Enjoy mysteries that don't take themselves too seriously all the time

Like the Sherlock Holmes stories

Wish BBC Sherlock had ended a different way

TW for violence, strong language, implications of assault, corpses, and general Crime Genre triggers

Follow our Tumblr or Instagram to keep up with updates and news, or check out the Comic on ComicFury.com for free!

[therenaissancedungeonmaster]

A Ballad is Never Performed by its Writer

Anyone want Tav/Karlach angst? No? Too bad! TW for grief, death, SH, suicidal implications, and gore.

~~~

It had been a very long time since Karlach had set foot on Faerun. It had been a longer time since she was dead. It still shocked her to look at her reflection in infernal obsidian and see gray hair. She had lost her other horn, and the fiery planes of her skin were more scars than flesh. Yet, it was those same cat-slit eyes, burning bright from inside like a candle in a bushel, that reminded her of who she was.

They had written poetry about it, called it exactly that: a candle in a bushel. A torch held against an empty night sky. A fireplace burning from behind a cabin window. A sunrise behind a curtain, drawn the night prior just before the passion began. Karlach couldn't stop laughing loud as an engine when they had told her that, but they had just smiled at her, knowing.

Karlach took the dagger into her hand and pulled at the strands of bangs that came between the two irregular nubs on her forehead. She tried so, so hard to be careful, like they would've wanted. They were always so poised, so delicate, every motion with a purpose. Yet, the moment the dagger split a few strands of her gray hair, Karlach lost it. She yanked her hair straight and began to cut it every which way, treating her mane like an animal carcass rather than a masterpiece. At a certain point, the dagger became obsolete, as she simply tore her hair out of her scalp, with the full force her muscles would allow. Blood dribbled from the removed hair follicles, and it wasn't until the blood tinged her lips did Karlach stop. She looked again at her reflection in the obsidian, and then stared beyond it.

What had taken her other horn? A devil, but in Avernus, that's like saying that she woke up that morning. Karlach hadn't even noticed losing that horn when it happened, now that she thought about it. She only realized it had happened when they came up to Karlach with it hollowed out. Karlach hadn't even realized it had been her horn until they told her, and then Karlach had recoiled.

"What sick joke is this, soldier?" she had asked. They beamed at her, put the tip of the horn to their lips, and blew. An awful, noxious noise came from it, wheezing and hollow, and so high pitched it hurt the ears. Karlach chuckled, but only because of how hard they were blowing into it. Their lavender skin burned pink, their cheeks puffed out with all the air they tried to force through the horn, eyes bugged out. Then, their fake eye rolled out, and Karlach cackled. She was still giggling as they crawled their way across the cracked ground, looking for the eye. As Karlach helped put it back, they had pulled her in for a kiss. Steam from her engine rolled out when their lips broke, and she watched them stay long enough to breath it in, with a smile.

Karlach's hair was a right mess now. Scraggly and awful and uneven. She took a deep breath, the air running around her engine as it kicked up more heat. Then, she tried again, careful to cut the hair she'd miss as close to the scalp as the rest. Then, she heated the blade to cauterize some of the wounds she had created on her head.

When it had first happened, she had considered taking a needle and poking in a new tattoo with their name, but for what? Nothing would make up for how, every morning from here on, she'd never wake up to the words "Good morning beautiful". How'd she'd never get to sit down after a long day of traveling through the Hells, fighting what may, to listen to their song. How, from now on, every time she met a devil that didn't want to flay her alive at first sight, she would never be able to twist its words around as well as they had. How she was stuck from here on, twisting tongues instead. You would think, after all these years together, she would've picked up some tricks from them. As she examined the self-inflicted wounds on her head, she felt like nothing had changed at all. That she was still that girl from how many years ago, freshly lost in Zariel's army. She was so very small.

It's pretty hard to preserve a corpse in Avernus, but Karlach refused to bury them here. They had said they had never had a home until her, but she always knew that if she had died first, they would've gone back to Faerun in a heartbeat. Anyone would've. So she slung their decaying body over her shoulder, and put one foot in front of the other, and marched like she was a girl again. Like she was Zariel's little plaything again rather than the woman who had thwarted the archdevil time and time again.

They had asked to write a ballad about her, about her challenges, and she had declined.

"Why not? You're amazing. You know how many kids would be inspired to hear of the handsome woman who spurned an archdevil and lived to tell the tale? Who made a life in Avernus, where no life can grow, but her love can?" they had said.

"I... I don't know, I just think there's better heroes, yeah? Besides, how is it gonna get to the kids who need it most? If you perform it here, we'll get teared apart by spine devils before the last line," Karlach had said.

"A ballad is never performed by its writer," they had responded, and then had turned to other things, like a 18th way to cook lemure.

Karlach's stomach churned as she checked their effects. She knew they were a bit of a hoarder, kept all sorts of weird shit just in case. It was just from how they grew up, she knew. When you grow up with nothing like they did, everything matters. But, even though they were dead, and she knew they'd be okay with it, Karlach couldn't help but feel like she was disrespecting the dead by looking through their shit. Even if it was nominally for something that would preserve the body. Instead, she found their journal, with every single free space written in and drawn in. They had only ever had the one, even though they could afford a new one. Karlach knew very well that old habits died hard. She thought about opening it, reading through it, and even flipped the cover... but she couldn't get herself to do it. She shoved the book back into their pack, and replaced their body onto her shoulder, before forging on.

How long had it been until Wyll had found her. How long had it been since she stopped carrying them and started carrying a corpse dressed in their clothes. All that matters is that she had trying to cook imp over a lava lake when Wyll had crawled up next to her, and sat down. If she had been getting old, he was getting ancient. How he had even managed to drag himself here was beyond her. His locs were almost shock white, and no amount of fancy living as a Duke could cover up the scars and horns he wore with pride.

"I heard about... them," Wyll said. Silence, and the sizzling of the lava lake.

"I'm sorry, for your loss, Karlach," Wyll said, "I know they were important to you. They were important to all of us, but they were especially important to you."

"Important doesn't even begin to describe it," Karlach muttered.

"I know, I know," Wyll said, "What you two had was... beyond this world. Beyond words. I think even they knew that. How... did they go?"

Karlach sighed. It had been long enough that she could think about it, just a moment, just long enough to explain, without crying like a big baby.

"A pit fiend got them. We had heard of a rumor about a devil that could... fix me. I begged them not to go, but... they went anyway. Snuck their way through the mansion where the devil supposedly lived, and... I don't know what happened, actually. I just know that when I finally found them, a dead pit fiend was holding them with their throat ripped out, all bloody like. I think the last thing they did was kill it, or something. I hope," Karlach said.

"I'm sure they did, Karlach. They never went down without a fight, much like someone else I know," Wyll said. He reached an arm around Karlach's shoulder and hugged her fiercely, but she could barely care to give the leeway to let him.

"I fought good, didn't I," Karlach said.

"You are fighting hard," Wyll said.

"Ever the optimist, Blade?" Karlach smirked.

"I am. I believe the best in people, and usually, they pull through," Wyll said. Karlach didn't say anything for a long time. In the distance, the lava lake lapped against blood-stained cliffs, and Karlach could smell the fighting from here. Once, it would've filled her belly with a fire, and revved her engine alive all over. Now, all Karlach felt was hollow.

"I think I'm done fighting, Wyll," Karlach said, "I wanna bury them in Faerun, and then..."

She trailed off, and what she meant hung in the air between them like smoke. It stung her eyes just the same.

"I understand. Do... you want me to invite everyone?" Wyll asked.

"Sure, why not?" Karlach shrugged, "Whatever will make you feel better, I guess."

"It might be some time," Wyll said, "If you can't wait-"

"I can wait. I have all the time in the world. They gave me that," Karlach said. Wyll stared at Karlach, brows knitted and eyes big and soft. Karlach looked away, and said, "Don't look at me like that or you're gonna lose your other eye."

Wyll nodded, "Understood, Karlach," and then stood. He stumbled, and Karlach suddenly found herself helping him back to the portal where he came through in. From the glimpse of his room back in Wyrm's Rock, it was pragmatically beautiful, decorated with ultra-accurate maps of the Sword Coast, luxurious bedding slumped onto the floor in front of the bed like a nest. Not even the Blade of Frontiers, the Blade of Avernus, the new Duke Ravengard, could sleep well it seemed.

So Karlach waited, their corpse in her arms. By that point, she struggled to have the energy to move around much, so she stayed fixed around the lake. Staying put was a bad idea in Avernus, but ideas were just ideas when you had nothing to live for anymore. Somewhere deep inside her, Karlach wanted to live for them, despite them being dead. But Karlach only had so much fire in her, and she could only stoke it for so long. Somehow, someday, it would die, and she'd be cold once again. Why not today, by their side.

Wyll came for her, eventually. He had set up a funerary pyre, on a cliff near Waukeen's Rest. As Karlach stepped through, the first thing that took her aback was all the colors in the sunset, as it mixed with the death knell of an inferno. She stepped through, and hands reached out to squeeze her shoulder, and words whispered into her ear to comfort her. Wyll really had brought everyone, at least, everyone who could be there in person. Then, the engine in her chest choked, and pain began to snake into her lungs. She only had so long here.

She kept going, nodding at the guests, until she had managed to put Tav on the pyre. The half-drow's skeleton took to the magic fire immediately, and whittled away into ash, which blew on the wind. Someone was singing. Maybe it was Karlach. Maybe it was Tav. She didn't know. All she knew was that the heat in her chest was getting bigger, eating her from the inside out, cooking her organs. She turned around, gave everyone a weak smile, and said, "Hi guys. It was good to see you. I suggest you take a few steps back."

Then, Karlach found herself climbing up onto the pyre, taking the skeleton in her arms like it was a normal morning long ago, and embraced it. The funerary pyre took her before her engine did, as one final fuck-you to the powers-that-tried.

[daydreaming-ace]

Remaking this because I realized it was kinda stupid to put it in a reblog...

Seeing the results of the most recent poll has been really interesting! However, the sample size is very limited (49 people in total). As a result, I am interested in remaking the poll at a later date!

So...

Please let me know if I should add options if I remake either poll.

Poll links (RTDLDX spoilers in both polls):

How does Magolor consume nutrients? (tw: food implication, body horror/mouth trauma, implication of needles [medical equipment])

How does Magolor sound?/How much effort does it take to talk? (tw: body horror/mouth trauma)

[tinyinvadr]

Next chapter’s up! It’s… a lot.

TW: Mind control, borrower experimentation, brief mention of needles

Psychoborrower: Whispering Rock

Chapter 5

That night, I expressed my concerns about Ash to Sasha and Milla. They agreed that it didn’t seem to be a coincidence, but they were hesitant to get on board with confronting him unless we had more solid evidence. After all, he was still a kid. And there were still some things about him that confused me and didn’t line up.

Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was him.

Thankfully, for my sanity’s sake, this mystery was about to come to an end. I was going to face off with the Dreamwalker and finally get some answers.

“Alright, darling, now just try and get some rest. We’ll be right here with you all night, and if anything happens, we’ll wake you up.”

“Of course. And… thanks again for staying with me.”

She smiled, tucking my blankets in and ruffling my hair. “It’s no trouble. Goodnight, darling.”

With that, she shut off the lights. Before I drifted off, I could hear her and Sasha making light conversation about recent events. I wasn’t really paying attention, but their voices comforted me. It brought me back to the nights when I was younger and I’d overheard them talking while half asleep. Even back then, I got the sense that they were talking about me. That they were proud of me. I’m so glad I was right.

I fell into a deep sleep, and their voices faded away. Around me, my dream began to materialize. This time, instead of floating in a void, I was in a distinct location.

It was a place I didn’t recognize. Dark, enclosed, and eerily quiet. I couldn’t really see what was in the room with me, but I could make out the long stretch of hallway in front of me. In the dark, it looked like it went on forever.

Suddenly, a muffled voice spoke from above the room.

“Here at PSI-Tech, our goal is to provide agencies with state of the art equipment. We’ve brought you in here because we’ve seen how proficient you are with your sense of control. Which is why we’d like you to test run the Vessel Labyrinth experiment. Whenever you’re ready, simply focus on the box, and your consciousness will be sent into the vessel inside. From there, navigate past the traps and make it to the finish. Don’t worry if you don’t get it on the first try. We can easily replace the vessel if need be.”

I didn’t have time to process what any of that meant before I was suddenly hit with a painful shock inside my head. The pain stopped after a second, but then, my body started to run forward, completely out of my control. I couldn’t stop, speak, or scream. Someone else was controlling my brain, and by extension, my body. They were using my powers to get past the traps. At least they seemed to know what they were doing, but that didn’t make the experience any less terrifying. I was powerless to stop what was happening. Just… a vessel.

I thought it would finally end as I saw myself approaching the finish line, but right before I reached it, a nozzle in the wall released flames at me, and I could feel it burning my skin. I collapsed on the floor as I regained control, but at that point, I was too weak to stand back up.

“Excellent! You were very close. Give me a moment to reset the vessel and you can run through it again.”

Just as I regained enough strength to stand back up, I felt something jab me in the back of my shoulder. A needle.

Some sort of drug was injected into my veins. At first I thought it was to numb the pain. Instead, it made my body go limp. It wasn’t a painkiller. It was to stop me from escaping.

The ceiling opened up, and a hand reached down and grabbed me, lifting me out to put me back at the start of the maze. My vision had started to blur, but during the brief period where I was outside of the box, I saw a familiar face in the room.

Standing beside the man who grabbed me was a younger looking Sasha. My mind glossed over the implications and I immediately tried to ask him for help, but my voice was too weak for me to raise it above a whisper.

“Sasha… please… help…”

The world faded into a freezing void once again, and my strength returned. The Dreamwalker appeared to me again, still obscured by the mist.

“He’s not going to help you. Who do you think was controlling you just a minute ago?”

“No…”

“This is why they say ‘don’t meet your heroes’, kid. I told you. The Psychonauts don’t care about you if they were willing to hire somebody like that. Who’s to say they don’t one day decide we’re nothing more than expendable tools?”

I clenched my fists, staring down the Dreamwalker. This was a trick. It had to be.

“You’re lying! Sasha would never do something like that!”

“Then why don’t you ask him yourself?”

I was hit in the head with a blast of ice, and I woke up in a cold sweat. Sasha and Milla were still awake, and they both looked at me with concern.

“Flint, are you alright?”

Sasha approached my bed, reaching towards me to pick me up. In a panic, I swatted him away.

“Don’t touch me!”

He immediately stopped, instead opting to crouch next to the desk. I couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Just… tell me it’s not true.”

“What are you talking about?”

Saying it out loud made me feel sick, but I forced the words out anyway.

“The… vessel experiment. Tell me you didn’t do it!”

He went quiet for a moment. The fact that he couldn’t answer right away was already a bad sign. I knew what was coming, but I wanted to pretend that it never would.

“I did… I was an intern at PSI-Tech, and I participated in that experiment.”

“You hurt people! People like me! You could’ve killed them!”

“Flint, I-”

“No, I don’t wanna hear it! I can’t believe I ever trusted you!”

With that, I retreated into the walls, breaking down in tears once I was fully hidden. I’d never felt so betrayed before. To think that the man I’d looked up to for the past three years, the one who taught me how to use my powers, the one who protected me and acted as a temporary guardian while I was away from home, was also a monster who experimented on borrowers.

I felt so, so stupid. And on the basis of this revelation, could I truly trust anyone anymore? How many people knew about this and swept it under the rug?

Based on the muffled shouting I heard from my place in the walls, Milla didn’t know. In fact, I’d never heard her so angry before. I almost couldn’t recognize her voice.

Suddenly, I was pulled back out of the wall with Telekinesis, and I was dropped off in Milla’s hands.

“Come on, Flint, we’re leaving.”

I didn’t say a word as she ran off with me, clutching me tightly to her chest as I heard her start to cry. It made sense that this also hurt her deeply. As much as she tried to hide it, she loved him.

Once we were far away from the lab, she sat with me outside of one of the cabins. Tears streamed down her face, and neither of us spoke for a few minutes. We both needed time to process what just happened.

“I… I am so sorry, Flint. I didn’t know. But I need you to know that I would never hurt you, or anyone for that matter. I just… I never thought he would… I thought I knew him…”

I sighed. “Yeah, so did I. It’s not your fault, Milla. And I appreciate you looking out for me. It’s… It’s hard to believe. There’s a part of me that wants it to be a lie, but he told us himself. God… I just don’t get it. Why would he do something so horrible?”

She brushed her thumb along the back of my head. “I don’t know, darling. I’ll try and talk to him again in the morning after I’ve calmed down. For the time being, you’re staying in my cabin. I don’t want you in that lab anymore, understood?”

I nodded, and she brought me inside the cabin. She put an extra pillow on the floor next to the bed for me, then set me down on it and got into bed herself.

The rest of the night was almost sleepless. I drifted off a bit here and there, but I kept waking up, paranoid that I’d end up in that maze again.

I finally succumbed to dreamless sleep late into the night, and by the time I woke up the next morning, Milla had already left.

Outside, I heard footsteps approaching, and I instantly tensed up. Someone knocked on the door, but I didn’t respond.

“Flint? Can I talk to you?”

I didn’t answer him. He knew damn well what I wanted to say to him anyway.

“Milla’s with me. I’m not asking or expecting you to forgive me, I only want to explain what you saw.”

I scoffed. “What’s there to explain? I didn’t just see it, Sasha. I experienced it. In the dream, I was the ‘vessel’. You were controlling me.”

“Flint, please… Let me explain what really happened, and I promise I’ll never bother you again.”

“Fine. But only if Milla’s also in the room.”

At that, they both walked in. Milla seemed to have calmed down, and didn’t look like she wanted to rip his head off anymore. I figured she wouldn’t have let him see me if he didn’t have a decent explanation, but I was still skeptical.

Sasha sat in a chair on the other side of the room, while Milla sat on her bed. She offered her hand to me, and I climbed on, allowing her to hold me close during this discussion. It was hard to truly feel any comfort in this situation, but I appreciated her for trying.

“As I told you last night, before I worked for the Psychonauts, I had been granted an internship at a now defunct technology company known as PSI-Tech. They were a scientifically-minded organization that aimed to produce and sell equipment to psychic agencies. My job was to test a variety of devices. One of which was a project involving mind control.”

“But… why would you agree to do that?! Everyone knows mind control is wrong! You’re taking away someone’s ability to control themself!”

He sighed. “Yes. But the higher ups at PSI-Tech were insistent that their latest ‘product’ would allow organizations to practice ethical mind control. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. When I took the position, I was told that the ‘vessels’ were nothing more than lab grown bodies without any sentience. They insisted that using mind control on them was harmless because they weren’t alive to begin with. In actuality, they were very much alive, and they weren’t created in a lab. They were borrowers who had been captured, and were regularly drugged to keep them from escaping or calling for help. I only discovered the truth when my boss made the mistake of leaving me alone with the labyrinth box long enough for the borrower inside to wake up. Once I realized what I’d been doing, I was disgusted, and I knew I had to put a stop to it. I freed the borrower and made a call to the Psychonauts. Unfortunately, my boss walked in on me reporting PSI-Tech, and in an attempt to hide the evidence, he…”

Sasha trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. I could already tell exactly what happened.

“He killed them, didn’t he?”

To my surprise, I saw a tear roll down his cheek. I’d never seen Sasha cry before.

“Yes. By the time the Psychonauts arrived, it was already too late to save them. But regardless, they shut the entire operation down and placed all of us under arrest. It was only a week later that I was visited by Truman. He knew I was the one who reported PSI-Tech, and he wanted to give me another chance. I declined his offer at first, believing I could never redeem myself after working for that terrible place and allowing innocent lives to be taken. But Truman told me that I had already taken the first step. I threw away any chance at furthering my career and didn’t try to present myself as a hero. I was fully willing to face the consequences of my actions, aware that my ignorance was not an excuse for the harm I caused. He believed that I could change because I had already proven that I wanted to. From there, I was taken to the Motherlobe, and placed in a new internship under Otto Mentallis, until I was eventually promoted to the position of a full-fledged agent.”

I took a minute to process everything. Hearing Sasha himself describe what happened was unreal. I still didn’t want to believe it. It was a bit of a relief to know that he was lied to about what the experiment actually was, and that he put a stop to it as soon as he learned the truth, but that didn’t change the fact that he still ultimately hurt people.

“I just… I don’t think I can look at you the same way anymore.”

He nodded. “That’s completely understandable. And I’m sorry I kept this from both of you. It’s not a time that I like to remember, but it happened, and there’s no going back and changing it. The best I can do is move forward and strive to be a better person than I was.”

Even after getting this explanation, there was one thing that still didn’t man make sense.

“Why do you think the Dreamwalker told me about this? I mean, I get that they want me to turn my back on the Psychonauts, but it seems like they know you personally. And if that’s the case, it can’t be Ash. He’s only a year older than me, and that was like ten years ago that you were working for PSI-Tech, so unless you’re about to tell me you were experimenting on toddlers, there’s no way it was him.”

“Definitely not. Though, it’s possible he may know someone who was involved. I’d suggest talking to him, and if he’s willing, I’d like to speak with him as well. Maybe we can work out a solution to all of this. Regardless of what I did, it was uncalled for to drag you into this.”

“Heh… agreed. I’ll go find him. Figure out what’s going on.”

Milla got up, opening the cabin door so she could let me outside. The moment she opened it, we were met with a disturbing sight.

The entire summer camp was covered in snow.

[return-to-twisted-wonderland]

💚anon

[A Traumatizing Earthly Experience- Karina's Memories] - Explaining to Riddle what happened after she disappeared

Tw: implication of experimentation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Age 7 Karina)

"...Huh...? Where am I...?" Karina looked around, her bunnies drooping down. People gave her weird looks. Parents grimaced and shielded their children's eyes. "What is she?" "Why does she have rabbit ears?" "Someone call animal control..."

And someone did. That led to her being locked in a room for hours on end. And then these men came in the room, put a collar and leash around her neck like she was a pet, tugging on it everytime she tried to walk around—as she tried to get used to her surroundings.

The next thing you know she was in some facility, with new clothes—a white T-shirt and shorts. Before she could say anything they pinned her down, tattooing a number onto her neck—ignoring her cries from the needle. 0203.

That was only the beginning. They threw her into a glass cage, no privacy whatsoever. The collar stayed on, sending small shocks of volts each time she even touched the glass. She learned fast that there was no escape.

They pounded it into her head. She wasn't Karina anymore. She was Experiment 0203. She didn't have opinions anymore—either obey or get punished, forcing her into submission no matter how painful the tests itself got.

Nine years. Hell for nine years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karina, muttering: ...I still have the tattoo..

Riddle: I... that's terrible.