#v; lab specimen

[aerospectrum]

@homelander-rp-blog asked: ∗ o1﹕ sender  tucks  hair  out  of  receiver’s  face . (for Cas) 100 nonverbal prompts :: OPEN

Castiel stands shackled to the floor by his ankles and wrists in the center of the cell. He’s no stranger to scare tactics but this guy barely scratches the surface of intimidation. He squints in judgement at the Supe, watching him approach with long strides and his chest puffed with his arms behind his back, playing high and mighty compared to the angel. There’s an air of humiliation to Cas' capture; forcefully exposed in an experimental setting; his wings stretched out on display with no way for him to cover himself or hide from prying eyes. Cas doesn’t flinch when Homelander grabs and tilts his face up to examine his damage, he can feel the hero’s boots against his barefeet and he doesn’t blink when the man raises a finger to tuck a strand of wet, dark hair from his face with a menacing chuckle. 

Cas glares deeper when Homelander speaks the words with a bold smile, “And here, I thought your kind were supposed to be the good guys.” 

“Read the Bible- angels are warriors of god, I’m a soldier.” Cas bristles when he feels Homelander's fingers card invasively along the tops of his dark feathers pulled taut by hooked chains behind him. “get your fucking hands off me.” He warns.

[tallulah477]

Feral

Survive The Night Day 2: Predator/Prey

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Dark!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Oral (female receiving), P in V, Sex Pollen, Size Difference, Chasing, Primal Play (Predator/Prey Kink), Creampie, Hair Pulling, Knife Play, Restraining Holds (i.e pinning/holding reader down), Fear Kink (?), Alien Genitalia (not really the focus, but its there), Knotting, Belly Bulge

Word Count: 7.3K

A/N: Based off a dream I had where Neteyam chased me through my house and I was running for my fucking life. Why didn't I let him catch me, you ask? Cause dream Talie is stupid.

Summary: You never understood why the Na'vi don't use this particular plant in their healing practices. It's a miracle plant for the humans - cutting healing times nearly in half when used as a topical paste. You would think it would have some similar benefits to the Na'vi. You would be wrong.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute - Human

Kehe rikx - Don't move

Rutxe ftang - Please stop

Kehe - No

Even considering he’s a nine foot tall blue alien, Neteyam Sully still looks extremely out of place standing on the clean, white tiled floor of the lab. 

His siblings don’t look so out of place when they visit - comfortable and familiar enough within the confines of the lab to make themselves at home among the multitude of beakers, whirling machines, and thick observation glass that make up your day-to-day workplace. Their large bodies twisting and contorting with ease when necessary to accommodate for the smaller space. 

Neteyam isn’t so lucky. He doesn’t like the human facilities, opting to follow in his mother’s footsteps and stay as far away from the skypeople as he can. He’s only here because he was ordered to be, sent by his father to fix his broken throat comm before they head out with the hunting party on a three day hunting trip.

He looks uncomfortable as he stands behind you, back stiff and arms crossed across his broad chest as he watches you tinker with the comm. Repairing tech has never been your strong suit, so it’s taking you a bit longer to figure out than it probably should have, but since you're currently the only person left in this half of the base, the responsibility has unintentionally fallen to you. 

You should be out there too. The thought forms bitterly in your head as you poke at the small opened compartment of the comm with your tweezers. Your favorite part of research is going out into the world and finding the specimens. The lab is great, a fine place for breaking ground and learning new things, gathering knowledge and data about a flora and fauna in a way that no other humans had ever had the opportunity to do before. Pandora is your home, where you grew up and lived your whole life - and yet, it’s still a mystery, and you learn something new and beautiful about it everyday. 

But the real fun is outside the lab. It’s when you're out there, in the thick of it, stepping over breaching roots and feeling the moss of the ground between your toes when you take off your shoes during a rest break. It’s feeling the gentle breeze of air along your skin and hearing the trees rustle in the canopy above you as a result, and pretending that - just for a minute - you can feel the breeze of alien air brush against your face instead of your mask.

Usually one of the older scientists, Alice, offers to stay behind at the lab to run tests and be on call for the Omatikaya should human tech ever be needed. But she’s the most knowledgeable when it comes to locating the elusive and seasonally grown plant that’s come to be known as the Rust Plant. 

So, that leaves you here, on your ass and pouting while everyone else gets to go off and have their fun. 

As far as you know, the plant doesn’t have any special properties or spiritual significance to the Na’vi. But when the red dust-like powder is collected from the center and manipulated into a liquid, the result is a miracle paste that significantly reduces healing time with human injuries. You asked about it once - why the Na’vi don’t try to make the paste for themselves to see if it will work on them - but the only answer you got back was that it had some ‘unintended consequences’ when used by the clan, so they stay away from the plant altogether. 

You don’t think about that when Neteyam walks in. 

The plant mixture, once rust red, is now a beautiful glowing purple inside the beaker - a reaction from the solution added to the powder to form the liquid base. It’s been on the hot plate for a while now, but it’s only just starting to heat up enough to provide small spirals of smoke inside the clear glass. 

You’re glancing at the clock when you hear Neteyam sniff slightly behind you. You don’t turn around, ignoring the little puffs of air that somehow sound like bullet shots in the silence, but a part of you is instantly insecure. What is he smelling? It can't be the mixture in the beaker. Despite the smoke, it doesn’t give off any kind of smell. Subtly, you press your chin to your chest, trying to see if you can smell yourself to find out if maybe it’s you giving off some kind of stench that his overly sensitive nose is picking up on, but you don’t smell anything off about you either. 

The purple liquid is still thin inside the container, needing several more minutes of constant heat in order to bubble and thicken slightly before it can be considered a usable product, but you pause your tinkering on the comm to note the time for the smoke in a small notebook. 

Neteyam lets out a loud sigh when you drop the tweezers to grab a pencil, the annoyed huff nearly ear piercing in the quiet of the lab. This time you can’t help but glance towards the harsh noise, a slight tilt of your head towards the large Na’vi and your eyes meet amber for just a second before they drop again to the paper as you scribble. 

A part of you wants to be snobby, ask a prissy ‘can I help you?’ just because you feel like he’s being so unnecessarily rude when you're just trying to help, but you keep your mouth shut. 

He doesn’t. 

“Are you nearly done?” He grunts, accented tone pitched with agitation as his feet shuffle on the tile. 

“Yes, just a few more minutes,” You say, picking the tweezers back up. “Be patient.”

You think you’ve almost got the comm fixed, just a minor replacement to the tiny inside panel, and you're thankful that’s all it is. It shouldn’t take too long. You’ve nearly got the replacement piece in place now, so all you should have to do is solder it in and it should be fine. Which is good because the sooner you can get this fixed, the sooner you can get the huffy, oversized, unfortunately very handsome despite being an incredible dick of a Na’vi out of the lab so you don’t have to feel him breathing down your neck anymore. 

It only takes another couple minutes for the smoke to consume the rest of the empty space in the beaker, thick white wisps swirling inside of the glass and spiraling out of the top. You drop the tweezers again, cutting the power off to the hot plate and grab the pencil again to log the time. 

Neteyam sniffs again, this time audibly louder and longer, before it sounds like his breath gets caught in his lungs. 

Immediately, your head spins around to stare at him wide eyed, surprise and concern flooding your chest when you notice he’s backed up a few steps. He’s staring at the bubbling beaker, yellow eyes set with suspicion and what almost looks like distress. 

“Are you o–”

“What is that?” He interrupts, voice gruff as his three fingered hand points to the beaker. 

“It’s… the mixture for our healing paste,” You reply, confused. 

“No! What is it?”

“The Rust Plant? The one that grows on the sides of river b–”

You’re cut off again by a sharp hiss, and you have just a second to register Neteyam’s dagger-like teeth as he stalks forward, spitting out a frustrated “You stupid–” before he’s jerking back, hand immediately covering his nose as if to stop himself from breathing.

He looks wild, eyes frantic as he stares at the beaker, and every muscle in his body looks tense, stung up tight like a bow ready to shoot. You’re a scientist, you’re meant to be observant, so you don’t know why you didn’t see it before. But it’s clear as anything now. The smoke doesn’t have any kind of smell to you, but to him - with the way he’s backing away and covering his nose to keep from breathing it in - it must be horrible. 

His tail is trashing behind him, so upset that you think you can almost hear a swish from it cutting through the air like a whip. 

“I need to leave,” He says suddenly. Instinctively, you back up into the desk at the sight of the large and angry Na’vi coming at you again, but he just grabs the still broken comm and turns around to storm out. 

He’s big though, too much for the small space of the lab, and his frantic tail is still thrashing as he turns. The thin appendage accidentally snaps against the side of the still smoking beaker, sending it flying off the desk and onto the ground. 

The glass shatters against the tile, glowing purple spreading across the white floor in a large puddle as the smoke spirals up into the air. Neteyam’s hand instinctively drops from his nose to grip onto his tail, holding the end of it close to him as if to keep it from swinging and smacking into anything else. But you watch, shocked and frozen in your spot as he takes one shuddering breath, and then another, tense back muscles shifting under his cobalt skin with each inhale and exhale of air. 

“Neteyam?” You ask, timidly. Dread shoots through your chest and you have the feeling that something very serious just happened, but you don’t even know what. 

He’s just standing there now, back towards you, but he’s not moving towards the door anymore. It’s like something is keeping him from moving, some unseen force that exploded out of the glass container when it burst and wrapped its tendrils around him before he could take another step. 

Whatever he was smelling from the beaker wasn’t good for him, and now it's in the air, invisible signatures swirling through the small space of the lab, and it's affecting him - the ‘unintended consequences’ of the Rust Plant on the Na’vi.

Your every instinct is telling you to stay away from him, that he’s dangerous. But he’s one of the Omatikaya, and regardless of how he views humans, you know he would never hurt you and disobey his father like that. 

“Hey,” You say, gently. You force yourself away from the desk, slowly moving around him to try to not startle him as you attempt to make your way to the airlock door. “Just relax, okay? Let’s try to air this pl–”

His deep growl has you frozen again, cold ice shoots through your veins at the predatory sound. It’s not a normal growl - not a low, quick sound made in anger or frustration. It sounds dark, a deep dangerous rumbling that came from his chest. A warning. 

You watch in horror as he slowly tilts his head towards you, the pointed tips of his sharp teeth visible under the snarled curl of his lips, glittering in the bright fluorescent lights of the lab. Your brain screams at you to run - danger, danger, danger, it shouts, but you can’t move. The realization hits hard: he’s not Neteyam anymore. The Na’vi in front of you is not the same human-indifferent, scoffing, fearless warrior son of Toruk Makto.

He’s an animal. A predator. 

Feral. 

His golden eyes are now just a thin band of dark honey encircling two endless black holes. And in their reflection you see yourself - tiny and weak. Scared.

Prey.

His body shifts slightly, just the most minuscule movements as he angles himself towards you that you probably wouldn’t have noticed had your survival instincts not been ringing alarm bells in your brain. Without thinking, you grab the hot plate, gripping it tightly at its base and holding it in front of you as your only form of weapon.

“Neteyam Sully!” You shout, and you can’t even believe how out of your mind you are to try to use his full name like an upset mother. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you stop it right now!”

There’s not even a second after the words leave your mouth, not a beat or breath or anything before he’s coming at you. 

Your body registers his sudden movement before your brain does, the roaring snarl bouncing off the walls of the lab as he lunges at you. The hot plate is out of your hands in an instant, the hard base of the plate smacking into his face with a loud cuh-thunk. His snarl is interrupted with a grunt from the hit, body jerking back a step from the impact, and you don’t wait around to see the way his eyes zero in on your retreating form again in rage. 

You can’t think - your body is moving without your brain telling it what to do. Pure panic mixed with raw survival instincts is what drives you through the door behind you, nearly smacking into the wall as you barrel down the main hallway. You hear Neteyam’s footsteps close behind, bare feet smacking against the tile. 

It’s a sound you never thought you would find terrifying. You think of little Mae, the daughter of the staff nurse and one of the science guys, and how the sound of her tiny footsteps stomping on these same tiles floors always brought a smile to your face. You could always hear her coming before you saw her, just a few seconds before she rounded the corner with unsteady steps ready to cause havoc as she tries to run from her exhausted and overstimulated mother. 

These ones are louder though. Heavier, but somehow more quiet as they rush at you from across the unobstructed hall. Your body doesn’t wait for your mind to catch up, and that’s probably a good thing considering you have no idea how the fuck you knew to take the split second turn to your right the exact moment Neteyam tried to pounce. 

You hear his snarl of anger as he rights himself, loud and echoing through the hallway. You’ve managed to best him for a second, but he’s still on your ass - gaining ground on you with his long Na’vi legs despite the cramped human-sized halls. 

Your heart is racing in your chest, pounding with fear, and the adrenaline coursing through your veins is the only thing keeping you going. You can’t breathe - shallow, panicked, quick puffs of air rip from you as you run, your high pitched gasps sounding against the hall walls as a foil to Neteyam’s predatory growls. 

“HELP!” You scream, voice cracking with how loud you're trying to scream. The desperation and pure terror are evident in your voice and you know if someone were around they would hear you for sure. Someone has to be around. They have to be. “SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE!”

No one responds. No one steps in to intervene. No one even opens their door to try to take a little bit of a peek. No one to run to for help even though it feels like you're about to get mauled to death by a Thanator. 

You’re truly alone. And that thought makes you somehow even more desperate. 

Most people have a tendency to close the doors of their bedrooms, trying to keep as much privacy as they can in the small base. Norm has no such desires, often too excited or too focused on getting to his studies that he outright forgets to close his door. 

It’s a god send now that you’re sprinting through the residency part of the outpost. Your room is one of the last down the hall. You won’t make it. Not with the way you’re shaking right now, body feeling like it's somehow both freezing over with ice and lighting on fire as the fear and adrenaline fight for dominance for your immediate attention. Neteyam’s right behind you, long stride more than twice the size of yours cutting any distance you gained through your miracle of a move back down to barely anything at all. 

He’s going to catch you. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

Throwing yourself at a random door is dangerous. Just the extra second it takes to turn the knob and push the door open could almost certainly be the difference between life and death if you even still have a chance at life at all. And even then you run the risk of it being locked. Your eye catches on Norm’s door - open and shining like a beacon of hope amongst the fluorescently lit hallway. 

You don’t have another choice. 

You turn. 

As soon as you make it through the threshold, you slam the door behind you as fast as you can. 

You don’t know what you expected, naively hoping that the door would somehow succeed in protecting you and keeping Neteyam out. It’s not even locked. 

You scream as the door explodes under Neteyam’s weight, the wood splintering as it bursts apart, smaller bits of fragmented wood spraying towards you as the feral Na’vi shoulders his way in. The bathroom to your left is the only option, and you lunge for it just as Neteyam lunges for you. The tears pouring down your cheeks burn your eyes and blur your vision, your loud hyperventilating cries make your throat raw. Another door just barely slammed in his face and your back presses against the opposite door, your panicked hand trying to jiggle the knob but your brain not reminding you how to twist it. This other door hasn’t been used in years - the bathroom that once connected these two rooms together is just used by Norm now since Mary had her baby and her and her husband moved into a larger room to accommodate the crib. It’s locked, and your fingers are struggling to twist the mechanism up to unlock it when Neteyam breaks through. 

Even through your blurred vision, you see it clearly. His arm reaches through the hole his shoulder has made, and the bathroom is too small, too fucking small because that arm looks like its reaching across the entire length of it, fingers splayed out like if he can just get one of the tips to brush you, he’ll snatch you up. 

“HELP!” You scream again. Fuck fuck fuck. You’re going to fucking die. “HELP ME!”

You watch the door in horror as Neteyam pulls his arm back, head dropping to glare at you through the opening, and your veins fill with ice. 

He looks murderous - pupils blown so wide you can’t see the golden ring wrapped around them at all. You want to drop to the ground under that stare, beg for mercy even though the look in his eyes makes it clear there won’t be any. 

“N-Neteyam,” You stutter. Your heart is pounding so fast, blood sounding like it’s rushing in your ears so fast you don’t know how you haven’t had a heart attack yet. “P-please s-stop. P-please.”

His eyes stay locked on yours through the hole in the door, dark and glaring but for some reason he’s paused his attacks. A part of you wonders if your begging is making it through to the non-animalistic part of his brain. Whatever the smoke from the mixture of the Rust Plant did to him, it has to be only temporary. He’s still Neteyam. Neteyam is still in there somewhere. 

“Please,” You try again, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re scaring me.”

He leans forward, one hand curling around the broken wood from the open hole in the door. When he speaks, you don’t know if you’re relieved to hear that he can despite the overwhelming feral actions, or if you’re horrified at how his voice comes out. 

He doesn’t sound like himself at all. His words are clipped, short words made sentences that you don’t understand as both the gravely and growled way he says them as well as overall meaning. 

“Tawtute,” He growls. “Mine.”

“Wha— I-I don’t understand,”

You scream when he hisses at you, long canines and sharp teeth on display through the damaged opening and you have a front row seat to the show as your back presses harder against the door behind you. The hand wrapped around the edge of the hole pulls back suddenly, taking with it a huge chunk of the center and the loud crack and snap of wood snaps your body back into gear. You twist the small lock on the door behind you, unlocking it and wrenching it open when Neteyam throws his body against the opposite door again. You’re out the door and into the next room, slamming the door shut behind you just as you hear the telltale crash of the wild Na’vi breaking through the other barrier. Without thinking, you round the side of the bookshelf that stands on the side of the doorframe. You push with all your might, tipping the bookshelf on its side so that it falls diagonally across the door. A dresser sits just on the opposite side of the door, the bookshelf catching on the edge of the dresser so that it blocks a good portion of the bathroom door. 

Any other time you’d be heartbroken to see the books that fall off the bookshelf in your mishandling scatter along the floor and at your feet like they were nothing more than trash. Today, though, you can’t give a shit about that. 

Your hands grip your hair in frustration as you hear Neteyam’s body barrel into the door, hot tears racing down your face as you waste valuable seconds staring at the bending wood behind the tipped bookcase. It won’t keep him back for long. He could probably easily push it out of his way, but it's something. Your only hope now is that it keeps him long enough for you to get away and that his instinct driven brain doesn’t realize he can just go back the way he came to get around the obstacle. 

Turning on your heel, you sprint out the bedroom door, heading back down the hallway towards the lab. The sound of the loud crash echoing through the empty hall makes you run impossibly faster. Was it the door finally giving way under his weight? Or was it the bookshelf being tossed to the side like it was nothing and he’s about to barrel down the hallway to finish the job that you’ve somehow managed to postpone until now?

You make it back to the lab, foot smacking against the forgotten hotplate still laying on the ground in your haste to get to the airlock. Your hand smacks against the button on the side wall, fingers practically choking the heavy handle as you go to yank it open. The oxygen masks lay forgotten on the shelf next to the door. You don’t care about them, don’t care about breathing right now because what’s good about breathing when Neteyam could end your need for it in just seconds if he catches you. 

The airlock door hisses as the seal breaks and for a split second you think you’ve done it - have somehow managed to survive this deadly game of cat and mouse you’ve inadvertently been forced to play. You can grab a mask and slip inside the airlock. Keep Neteyam locked up here in the lab while you sit safely outside until the others get back or he comes to his senses enough to remember how to open the airlock door himself. 

But no sooner than the thought crosses your mind, an arm wraps tightly around your waist and pulls you from your death grip on the thick metal door. 

You scream as you’re tossed to the floor, body pressed against the cold tile as Neteyam straddles you. His hips pin your legs down, leaving them useless and unable to buck or kick under his massive weight. You beat at his chest with your fists as hard as you can, trying to ignore how they hurt from your balled up fists trying to hit against pure solid muscle. 

Panic manifests in your desperate cries and you aim for his face too, trying to hit or slap or scratch - anything to get him off of you. You feel like an injured animal caught in a trap. And you suppose you are. 

“Get off!” You cry. “Get off me, Neteyam!”

He snarls as one of your hits lands too close next to his eye and he grabs your hands tightly in one of his, pinning them above your head.

Your screams stop, catching in your throat when the bright fluorescent lights of the lab catch on the knife on his hip. The light caresses the blade as he pulls it from its sheath, the sharp tip sparkling as he brings it to press against the base of your throat.

His face is in front of yours in an instant, so close you feel like you can barely breathe in the wake of the knife resting at your throat and the way his huge eyes feel like twin black holes threatening to suck you into their depths if you move even a single centimeter. 

“Kehe rikx,” His words are hardly more than a whispered breath against your face, but their translation rings loudly in your ears. 

Don’t move. 

The point of the knife drags against your neck, scratching lightly as he draws it down your collarbone. It pulls at the fabric at the neck of your t-shirt as he moves it down your chest, stretching and bunching it down as he scrapes the tip through the valley of your breasts. Your heart pounds under the deadly tip of the weapon and your body wants to fight, keep fighting for your life that you know could be taken from you with just a quick movement of his hand, but your fear keeps you frozen. 

Something hard presses against your trapped thighs and your eyes automatically rip themselves from the knife down to the space between your bodies, and your breathing catches in your throat again for a whole other reason. 

Neteyam’s cock is hard in his loincloth, having escaped its sheath and filling out under the thin material enough to raise a sizable tent inside it. 

He doesn’t give you time to react as his head bends down and latches onto the swell of your breast through your shirt, sharp teeth digging into it just enough for marks to surely be left even through the layers of shirt and bra. You yelp, back arching instinctively against the pain, and your body unfreezes as his teeth scrape against your breast before digging into the material of your shirt and ripping.

The loud sound of tearing fabric rips through the room and Neteyam releases the torn fabric from his mouth just to grip it with his hands instead, pulling up and out and exposing your bra clad torso to his darkened crazed eyes. The knife is still in his hand, but the blade is pointed sideways now as he uses the fingers around it to rip your shirt apart. It’s not smart, not a smart idea at all to try your hand at smacking at him again, but you have to do something. 

You don’t know what he wants anymore. What did that mixture do to him? He was chasing you through these halls, growling and snarling like a predator on the hunt for its next meal, and now he’s on top of you - hard and tearing your clothes off like he wants to fuck you. 

You only get a couple smacks in before the knife is back at your chest and you’re forced still again. Neteyam’s eyes are locked onto your chest, following the tip of the knife as he slides it under the band of your bra directly between your breasts. It cuts easily under the pressure of the sharp knife and the covering falls on either side of your chest, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. 

There’s a mark on your breast from where his teeth had dug into it and he pauses to stare at it greedily. 

“N-Netayam,” You say, slowly. He seems a little calmer now that he has you trapped under him. You need to talk him to his senses. He’s still in there somewhere. He has to be. He’s not all animal. He can be reasoned with. “You don’t wanna do this. Plea–”

Your plea is cut off as he rises off of you, crouching back just enough to give himself room to flip you roughly over on your stomach. You grunt as your bare chest hits the cold tile, arms splayed uselessly on either side of you as you try to get your bearings from the quick movement before he’s using his knife to cut through the denim of your shorts. 

“Neteyam! Rutxe ftang! Kehe!” 

You don’t know why you think pleading in Na’vi will be any different than English, but desperation punches the frantic words out of you before you can even think about deciding to say them. Your hands finally find purchase on the ground beneath you and you try to push yourself up in hopes of crawling away, but Neteyam’s dropping the knife and taking hold of your hips before you can. 

High pitched squeaking sounds hit your ears as he drags your body across the tile. Your hands scramble frantically against the floor as you’re pulled backwards, but there’s nothing to hold onto. They just slide uselessly, voicing their protest in the way the tile screams under your grasping fingertips as you’re hoisted up with your lower half in the air. 

Your back arches against Neteyam’s hold, legs kicking in the air but doing no harm despite their efforts. The hole he’s created in your shorts is enough to have your pussy on display for him, and you can feel his breath on it - hot puffs are the only warning you get before his mouth is on you. Your voice is raw from all the screaming you’ve done, the sound crackling and almost pained as you shout again - shout for him to stop and to let you go as you kick and squirm and beg. 

You want to cry more, any drying tears of fear you have still tracked on your cheeks are replaced with tears of humiliation. Your clit pulses under his relentless tongue, pussy subconsciously clenching around nothing as he licks and sucks over the puffy folds. 

You’re wet. 

You’re so wet already, body confusing the adrenaline caused by fear and desperation and flooding it with the adrenaline that comes with arousal instead. His textured tongue slips across your sticky cunt, licking up your wetness, and a reluctant moan escapes your lips at the rough feel on your sensitive parts. 

A gleam to your right catches your attention and a flicker of hope rushes through you at the sight. Neteyam’s knife is laying on the ground next to you, scattered just far enough when he dropped it that it's a stretch for you to grab it, but not impossible. He’s distracted by your cunt, chest rumbling in what you can only describe as a more aggressive type of purr and your face contorts in unwanted pleasure as the vibrations pulse against your clit. 

You reach for the knife, using one hand pressed against the tile to gain any kind of leverage you can while your other arm stretches out towards the forgotten blade. You're not even sure what you’re going to do with it when it’s in your hand. Would you just threaten him with it? Tell him to back off and that you’ll use it if he doesn’t? Would you cut him a little to show that you’re serious? 

Would you stab him if it came to it?

Your fingers graze along the hilt of the knife, fingertips brushing along the part that it can touch and curling in, trying to coax the knife just a bit closer so you can grab it. Neteyam growls into your cunt, and you let out a gasping curse when his foot lands on your wrist, pinning it to the tile before you can work your hand around the knife. 

“You son of a bitch!” You yell, anger burning through your desperation, but all Neteyam does is push his face deeper into your pussy. His large hands rip at the back of your shorts more, fingers digging into the exposed curves of your ass to spread you apart. 

The pressure in your belly intensifies as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves before wrapping his lips around it in what feels like an almost pleasured punishment. 

You’re going to cum. Fuck fuck you’re going to cum on the tongue of the practically feral Na’vi who just chased you through the halls of your own home and made you think he was going to rip you to shreds and leave you to die on the floor for your coworkers to find. It feels so good, so so good and you wail as your pussy spasms against his relentless tongue, contracting against the wet muscle as the coil in your belly bursts in an explosion of uncontrolled pleasure. 

Neteyam groans against your core, lapping up everything you have to offer as you whine and shake. Your legs, still suspended in the air, are becoming numb - the tingling sensation of your limbs losing their life combining with the dramatic pulsing over your oversensitive cunt. 

You grunt as he drops you to the ground, his foot lifting off your wrist as he crouches back up, and you pull it to your chest, cradling it there and quickly checking for any injury as your body automatically tries to curl up in a protective ball. 

His hands are back on your hips in an instant, pulling you back again across the floor until your ass is pressed up against his front. Your blood runs cold when your bare ass meets bare skin. The bulge that was once blocked by the thin layer of his loincloth is now free - large, dominant, and demanding of attention as it presses tightly against you. 

Demanding of your attention. 

The hand on the back of your neck is uncaring as it pushes you down, forcing your face against the white tiled floor as he lines himself up with your entrance. 

“Neteyam, no! Please!” You beg, even as your back is forced to arch from the exposed position he has you in.

And maybe if this was a different situation, a different circumstance, he would have used this opportunity to tease you. Tell you to stop fussing and stay still. To be a good girl for him while he fucks your tight cunt and maybe if you’re good enough, he would let you cum again. You would let him. Neteyam is beautiful, more handsome than any other Na’vi you’ve ever seen. If he would have been kind to you and shown interest in you like that, you would have agreed to fuck him in a heartbeat. 

But he’s not himself. Doesn’t even have his mind enough to acknowledge your pleas with anything more than agitated snarls and frustrated growls. 

His cock feels monstrous as he rubs it between your soaked folds. Thick and hard as the wetness of his own slick mixes with the sticky mess you have already between your thighs. The head of his cock rubs against your tender clit and you can feel how the sheer size of it forces your pussy lips apart.

You can’t take it inside you. Fuck. You can’t. You can’t. 

You whimper when the tip makes its way back to your entrance, nudging against it before the blunt tip presses forward. Your hands press into the tile on either side of your head, mouth falling open in a silent scream even as he presses your cheek further into the floor as he pushes his cock further into you. You feel every thick inch of it as it spears you open, and you expect it to hurt. It should hurt, especially with the way you’re clamping down around him, body automatically trying to keep it out even as it bullies its way deeper inside you.

There’s pressure, so much pressure. He’s too big, large alien cock way too much for your tiny human body to take, but somehow it is. Your brain is trying to tell you to panic, that the pressure is pain and you should scream and cry and try to wiggle away from it. But it's not. He’s stretching you so much, filling you up - but it doesn’t. hurt.

And that realization hurts you more than the cock currently rearranging your guts ever could.

You know it’s the slick. Despite never being with a Na’vi yourself, you know that the wetness that coats a male’s cock to aid it with slipping out of its protective sheath has something in it that eases the pain of penetration. It’s a good thing. Inherently helpful for any relationship, especially for those between a human and a Na’vi to curb the extra struggle of the size difference. 

You always thought it was sweet. A way for Eywa to reward the loyalty of the good sky people who are lucky enough to find everlasting bonds with her own children. 

Now, the idea of it leaves a bad taste in your mouth as the cock inside you pulls out only to thrust in harder. The texture on his cock scrapes against your slick walls as he starts to fuck you, the bumps and barbs rubbing and pressing against the sensitive spots inside you that you didn’t even know you had. 

A waterfall of moans and whines rip from your throat as he moves faster, your higher pitched pathetic sounds a stark contrast to his deep guttural grunts. His hand is off the back of your neck now, instead finding a place at the side of your face as he keeps you pinned to the floor. It’s so big compared to your head that it spans the entirety of it, thumb hooking just under the edge of your jaw while his fingers curl around the top of your head as he holds you down. 

Your thighs shake underneath you as he pounds into you, thick cock so far inside you that you know there has to be a bulge in your belly. There is, you can feel it. The way the head of his cock pushes against your lower abdomen roughly with each thrust and you know that if you could move your hands from the death grip press they have on the tile, you could feel it disappear and reappear under your palm. 

He adjusts behind you, both feet planted on the ground as he crouches behind you to try to push in deeper. Pleasure soaks into your brain as you subconsciously push back against him, pussy clenching and squeezing around him trying to suck him in. 

“N-Neteyam,” And you have more to say, you do. But you can’t form thoughts anymore. Nothing else will come out other than little punched out breathless gasps. 

It takes you a long time to realize that he’s speaking, and even longer for your fucked up and fucked out raddled brain to register what he’s saying. It’s not normal sentences, it’s not even English. His words are still animalistic, growled through gritted teeth as he spits out broken Na’vi between his groans of pleasure. You grew up with the language, but you’re so distracted, so overwhelmed by him and the cock inside you that your brain can’t seem to latch on to what he’s saying. 

You think you hear the word for ‘whore’, maybe ‘take it’, something ‘baby’ but you can’t be sure. 

And then he’s leaning forward, body curving overtop yours as he covers you completely. It’s only then you feel what you’ve been too distracted to notice. The thick knot at the base of his cock, fully engorged now as it prods at your entrance. 

Your hands finally leave their place pressed against the floor as you throw them behind you in newfound panic. One hand pushes against his abdomen as best as it can, trying to slow his thrusts while the other grabs at his wrist in an effort to pull his hand away from your face. The hand on his abdomen doesn’t do anything to slow his relentless pace, but the hand on the side of your head moves to tangle in your hair, gripping it in his fist close to your scalp just hard enough to burn a little as he yanks your head back. 

You gasp at the sharp sting and your gasp quickly turns into a whimper as his knot presses tighter against your soaking hole. He’s unforgiving as he digs it against you, holding your hair tight and forcing your back to arch as you stretch even further around it. You’re too wet, pussy too wet and almost greedy and it takes him in, determined despite the obscene size of the engorged ball of tissue.

“Please!” You squeal. Please stop. Please more. “Neteyam, fuck!”

Your eyes roll back into your head when the knot slips inside you, sheathing itself within your heat with another solid push of Neteyam’s hips against your ass. His cock hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars, your vision whiting out and there feels like there’s cotton in your ears as you cum around him, squeezing him tightly as you soak his length in your juices. Your breath catches in your lungs when you feel his cock pulse inside you, twitching and feeling like it’s expanding even bigger as his own orgasm hits him. 

He holds you close, keeping you pinned and still underneath him with the savage hand in your hair and the firm grip he has on your hip - fierce and unmoving as if to keep you from running away.

As if you even could with the knot locked inside you. 

His growl of pleasure reverberates off the walls as he paints yours. Long, thick ropes of release coating your insides and it's so much, so so much that you feel like you can’t fit anymore. Like if he cums anymore, you’ll burst. The knot is still lodged inside you, locked in and refusing to let you free, but there’s no space left inside you, no space, and you feel the excess cum seep out of your hole from around his knot to trail down the insides of your thighs. 

You don’t remember blacking out, and you’re not sure when Neteyam was able to pull free from you or when he passed out next to you either. But when you wake up next, it’s to voices.

“Oh my gosh!”

“Y/N!”

“What the fuck happened?”

The bright florescent lights of the lab are blinding when you try to open your eyes. Exhaustion seeps from every pore of your body and fuck, you feel so sore. 

Norm’s shocked face is looking down at you when your eyes finally adjust to the light, Max and a few of the other scientists are behind him, faces an equal mixture of shock and horror as they stare at you with wide eyes. 

It takes you a moment to remember what happened - why you’re here, waking up on the cold floor of the lab. Naked. You scramble up, hands clutching at your chest as you desperately try to cover yourself. A deep groan to your right steals your attention from your group of onlookers, and your eyes fall on Neteyam, just waking up from his own sleep.

His eyes are back to their normal gold as they open, groggy at first and then alert in a heartbeat as it registers where he is. He’s up in a crouch in an instant, looking ready to fight but not really sure what he’s supposed to be fighting. Those golden eyes catch on the group, confusion twisting on his face and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to figure out what’s going on. 

Then his eyes meet yours, taking in your torn clothes and near nakedness, and you sit in horror as it clicks for him what must have happened. 

And you watch as the horror in your eyes becomes mirrored in his. 

**Special thanks to @quicktosimp and @itchaboi-itchyboy for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @aria-tempest @pocky444 @bambithewriter @xylianasblog @anemonelovesfiction @criticallybella

**Comment here to be added to/removed from my taglist!

[makoodles]

ミdaddy issues

part one | part two

🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader

🍓tags: nsfw, interspecies relationship, temporarily one-sided attraction, second-hand embarrassment, vaginal sex, oral sex, (v brief) anal fingering, dirty talk (it's quaritch, come on)

🍓word count: 14k (there's literally nothing i could say to excuse this)

masterlist

Miles Quaritch is the kind of man whose reputation precedes him.

Everyone has heard of him. His ruthlessness and his skill are legendary, his authority absolute. The army guys talk about him like he’s the stuff of myth, the scientists talk about him like he’s the biggest bastard to ever walk the earth. Even before he had returned to life as a recombinant, he was positively infamous. Now though, his return has raised his reputation to near mythological status.

But it’s not just his name and reputation that is known around Bridgehead City. Recently, your crush on him has become equally as infamous.

It’s not your fault. It's not like you’re trying to make it obvious. The man is just so damn fine, blue or not. In the beginning, all you do is appreciate his form from a distance. It’s not like you see him all that often, anyway, so your admiration is mostly contained to quick glances in corridors and across the mess hall, whenever you spot him talking with his squad or walking with any of the higher ups.

 It’s perfectly innocent! There’s nothing wrong with having a little crush on someone that will never notice you, after all.

The problem is that your crush, while innocuous, isn’t exactly subtle.

“Quaritch, huh?” It’s Anjali that asks, an older, pretty microbiologist with a sometimes off-puttingly blunt manner.

You pause, but don’t look up from the microscope you’ve been peering into. For a moment, you consider denying it. But what’s the point? If she’s asking, that means that she’s already noticed your shy, flustered glances in the colonel’s direction.

“Yeah,” You sigh, a little defeated. “I guess.”

Because you’re so focused on the plant specimen you’re studying, you don’t notice the way all the others in the lab start looking over, clearly eavesdropping. If you had, you might have backtracked – maybe you would have downplayed your embarrassing little crush.

“He’s just...” You fiddle with the glass slide beneath the lens, still fighting not to make eye-contact with Anjali. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

Anjali snorts. She’s an older lady, with her grey-streaked hair scraped back into a severe bun, accentuating her harsh appearance. She’s working on her own report one desk over from you, but you can still see the way that she’s peering over her glasses at you.

“Is he?” She asks archly. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t see around his enormous sense of entitlement.”

You laugh a little awkwardly, and duck your head back down. God, you don’t know how else you expected that conversation to go. Everyone knows that Quaritch’s overzealous attempts to exert control over Pandora was what caused the whole war and resulted in the human population being forced off-planet all those years ago. Damn, you know that too! 

But it’s not as though you like him as a person or anything! He’s not even really the same man as the one that did all that. Your fascination with him is really just… aesthetic appreciation.

“I just think he’s attractive, you know?” You mumble, embarrassed. “I don’t know what he was like as a human, but… I don’t know. There’s something about the- the height, and the muscles-”

“Oh, spare me.” Anjali mumbles sourly.

“You asked!” You snap, mortified. “I’m just saying-!”

That’s when another voice cuts in.

“He could break you in half with his pinkie finger.” Dr. Geiszler points out from a desk behind you. He’s not even trying to pretend that he’s not listening in, leaning right over his workspace as he eavesdrops.

Your eyes widen a little, and for the first time you realise that nearly everyone else in the laboratory has been listening in the whole time. Your face grows hot with humiliation, and you shrink a little in your stool. Oh fuck, why did they all look so interested? 

Geiszler watches your reaction, and then his face slackens in an expression of realisation. “Oh shit, you’re into that.”

You genuinely can’t think of anything more humiliating right now. They’re all looking at you as though you’ve just grown an additional head.

“Oh, fuck off!” You say reflexively, scowling at them all. “You can’t pretend like you haven’t ever thought that the Na’vi are sexy!”

Anjali looks as though she’s just sucked on a lemon, but several other scientists start shiftily avoiding eye contact.

Geiszler just snorts. “That’s different. We’re not talking about just any Na’vi here, we’re talking about Quaritch!”

“He’s old enough to be your father.” Anjali points out, clearly disapproving. “Maybe even your grandfather.”

“So?” You say without thinking, before realising that this isn’t really an argument that you want to get into. “I mean- Not in his current body! No, fuck, I don’t mean- fuck. Look, can we just forget about this? Pretend I never said anything!”

Mercifully, they go silent at that, though you can still hear the faint sound of someone snickering in the back of the lab. They may not say anything more, but you’re all too aware that they’re still looking at each other and smirking. Laughing at you. 

You hunch your shoulders and keep doing your work. You wouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty over something as stupid as a harmless little crush that you can’t control. You wouldn’t.

Bridgehead really isn’t all that big, so you see the colonel semi-regularly. It’s always from a distance, but it’s still enough to give you a good look at those long legs, those big muscles, and that lithe, narrow waist. If you’re truthful with yourself, you go out of your way to organise your paths crossing.

You’re not even a fully-qualified scientist just yet. You don’t actually have an official title – you’re more like an intern. You work under the highly decorated scholars in xenobotany, running tasks and projects for them as part of your doctorate degree. You had been allowed out here to Pandora as part of your degree, in order to get the experience you needed to qualify, and it has treated you well so far. The whole internship position means that you have a little bit more freedom with regards your schedule, which works just perfectly for you.

So, yeah. What started out as innocent admiration has turned a little… stalkery. You’re willing to admit that. But it’s harmless! 

So what if you know Colonel Quaritch’s schedule off by heart? So what if you linger around the areas that you know he frequents at opportune moments, like just after his workouts or drills? It doesn’t really matter if your eyes linger around his big biceps and his sculpted chest, especially when his deep blue skin is all heat-flushed and sweaty, right? And it surely doesn’t matter if you wander past the Recombinant areas of the base far more frequently than you need to, right? It’s not as if anyone is going to notice.

It doesn’t really matter how much you stare, because the colonel is utterly oblivious to your attention. He never notices you, not even once. And that’s fine too, you tell yourself. It makes it easier, in fact! You can admire him all you want if he never looks at you, after all.

It gets a little bit more challenging to hide where your attention is straying when other people start to figure it out.

It’s like your little crush is an inside joke in the science department. The scientists on base tend to be pretty good at minding their own business (mostly because they’re usually so damn focused on their own work and little projects), but in this case you’ve become an endless source of amusement for them.

You can see the way the entire xenobiology department giggle together when you perk up at dinnertime as soon as the Recombinant soldiers enter the mess hall, and you know that they’re nudging each other when your attention strays to the Colonel as he eats. He’s got such sharp teeth, and your eyes fixate on him as he licks the sorry excuse for food he’s been served off his canines.

When you start dressing up a little bit more, the science guys start sharing smirks. It’s a little bit humiliating, but honestly you think you’re starting to lose your sense of shame. You start wearing tight little pencil skirts and thin blouses, under the guise of professionalism, and you start to do your makeup a little bit heavier too. Quaritch never so much as bats an eyelid in your direction.

“Not that I’m complaining, per se,” Geiszler drawls one afternoon, leaning lazily against the worktop as you painstakingly organise tissue samples. “But aren’t you trying a little too hard?”

“Shut up.” You grumble, chewing on your stick lip-glossed lower lip. “It’s just a skirt.”

“Right.” He drawls, eyes trailing down over the length of your body as you shift on your uncomfortable little stool. “And the makeup?”

“It’s not breaking any uniform protocols.” You say simply, scratching just under your eye. 

Geiszler sniffs, amused. “Is it true you’ve been following around the xenobiologists when they go to check on the recoms?”

You peer very closely at the tissue sample in your hands, a little more closely than entirely necessary. “Maybe.”

“Jesus.” He lets out a short, disbelieving sort of laugh. “Fuck. Why? D’you get off on being ignored or something?”

That’s a little crass, and you raise your head to scowl at him. He really doesn’t need to rub it in like that – it’s pretty damn obvious that your crush is unrequited. It’s cruel to point it out like that. 

“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t notice,” You mutter, aggravated. “I’m just- I just like looking, that’s all.”

Geiszler snorts again, but he appears to be somewhat sympathetic now. “Right. Just looking.”

Finally, you tear your attention away from the samples so you can scowl at him. “What do you want, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I want to put you out of your misery.” He replies simply, leaving his elbows against the worktop and smirking at you. “Recoms are being sent out tomorrow. Just a small run – Ardmore wants to put those new bodies to the test before she sends them out after Sully.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask as though you’re not hanging onto every damn word.

“They’re heading to the lowlands, at the base of the mountains,” Geiszler levels you with a significant look. “You know what that means, right?”

You perk up instantly at that, your eyes growing wide.

“Panopyra.” You breathe.

Your entire damn doctoral dissertation is centred around the unusual, jellyfish-like plants that grow on other Pandoran plants. It hovers somewhere between plant, animal, and fungi, having evolved a primitive sort of nervous system. It grows a cuplike body that collects water from dew and fog and condenses it down into a thick, syrupy sort of liquid. That liquid is then collected by the native Na’vi for use in their healing drinks. It is that medicinal property that fascinates you so much.

“Yeah, I thought that might get your attention.” Geiszler grins. “You’ve run out of the samples you’ve been using, right? You’re not gonna be able to write any more of your thesis without more specimens.”

“Yes,” You breathe, your brain already scrambling to think of all the things you need to do. “I need- oh, I need some cuttings of the sensory tissue, and I need a lot more samples of the internal liquid. The stems, too-”

“Right, right,” Geiszler interrupts, nodding. “The problem is, it’s just the Recoms being sent out. They’re not bringing any of the science team.”

Your shoulders sag a little at that. How are you meant to get a proper sample if there’s no one qualified to take samples going on their reconnaissance trip?

As if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, Geiszler’s smile turns a little sly. “If you want those samples, you’re gonna have to ask the big man in charge of the mission to bring some back for you. And you’re gonna have to ask real nicely.”

Colonel Quaritch’s office is empty when you call at it, and so you’re forced to go searching for him.

You find the recoms in the little recreation room just off the hangar designated for soldier use – Na’vi-sized beanbags had been thrown into it as an afterthought for the recom soldiers, and it’s almost comical to walk in and find so many of them sprawled across the squishy chairs. Some of them have instead decided to squeeze them into the regular armchairs, with one Na’vi-sized body occupying an entire sofa. They’re playing poker of all things; they’ve been provided with a set of over-sized playing cards and everything.

They’re a rowdy bunch, shouting and roaring with laughter, and so they don’t immediately spot you when you edge your way into the room. For a moment, you think that the colonel isn’t here. But then you take another look, and you spot him. 

Quaritch is standing to the side, his spine taut and his shoulders back and straight. It’s a very formal position just for watching his squad relax, but there’s a certain softness to his expression as he watches them that you’ve never seen from him before. Your heart skips a beat; this is the most unguarded that you’ve ever seen him, and your eyes fixate on his face eagerly as you try to drink in all the details.

It’s Fike that notices you first.

“Aw, man,” He groans, tilting his head back dramatically before gesturing at you with his cards. “Not another checkup. We told the other doc, if something feels wrong we’ll tell you-”

“Ah, no.” You’re beginning to get flustered. Fike’s exclamation has drawn the attention of the other recoms, and all of a sudden you feel as though you’ve been placed under a spotlight. “I’m- I’m not actually a doctor!”

There’s a very brief pause, and then one of the female soldiers sits up from her beanbag to squint at you. You think this one is Walker.

“Why are you here all the time, then?” She asks. “Weren’t you here for our checkup yesterday?”

Oh. They had noticed. Embarrassed heat is beginning to build in your cheeks, and you can’t help but dart a quick look over at where Quaritch is still leaning against the wall. For the first time ever, he’s looking right at you. The realisation sends little jolts of electricity racing up your spine. His expression is entirely neutral, almost bored, but that doesn’t matter. He’s seeing you.

“I was just, um, shadowing the xenobiologists,” You say quickly, “For my internship.”

One of the other recoms turns to another and mouths 'internship’, and they both start to snicker. You pretend not to notice.

“And what does the intern want with us?” Fike asks, already having turned back to his cards.

It’s terribly embarrassing having to stand here and have these 9-foot-tall soldiers basically look you up and down before disregarding your entire existence. But you’re here now, and you have to push through.

“I’d..” You begin, before your throat goes dry and you have to clear your throat before trying again. “Could I please speak to the colonel?”

All the snickering and whispering dies down for a moment as the recoms look at you before swinging their heads around to look at their superior officer. There’s a moment of silence, but then the subtle sniggers start right back up again.

“So polite,” one of them whispers, and you feel yourself burn with embarrassment. But it doesn’t matter how many of them are sharing smirks or whispers, because Colonel Quaritch has pushed himself off the wall and is beginning to step towards you.

Oh god, he’s so big. You have to actually tilt your head back just to look at his face as he comes to a stop in front of you, and you begin to fidget nervously with your fingers. Up close, he seems so much bigger. Every movement has the skin around his muscles flexing, and you have to work hard not to stare like an absolute moron. 

He doesn’t crouch or bend down to make it easier for you to talk to him. Instead he just raises a brow, clearly waiting for you to speak.

“I, um- hello,” You start off clumsily, growing flustered under the weight of his intense, golden gaze. God, does he even realise how intimidating that is? “I was wondering if- I mean, I heard that you’re being sent out into the Pandoran lowlands tomorrow, and I was wondering if you might be able to bring me back something-”

God, you sound like such an idiot. There’s no way he doesn’t notice the way your voice trembles, or how you can’t quite meet his eyes, or how you keep stumbling over your words, but he just watches you evenly with no expression on his handsome face.

You fumble for the datapad that you brought with you, tapping clumsily at the screen before holding it up for him. His eyes dart to the photograph that’s being displayed, but he still doesn’t speak.

“This is panopyra.” You say, and your voice grows a little stronger. This, at least, is something you feel comfortable talking about. “It’s a plant that’s displaying characteristics of a new line of evolution toward a primitive nervous system. My entire dissertation is focused around my research into this plant, and I really need some samples. The body of it is hollow, and it collects a liquid inside-”

Finally, Quaritch speaks. 

“We ain’t bein’ sent out to do gardening.” His voice is deep and rumbly, edged with that Southern drawl. It has a hint of danger, even when he’s not actually threatening anything.

“I know!” You say hastily. “I know that. I just thought- I thought that maybe if you happened to see one, you might be able to take a sample of the liquid inside of it and, um… and bring it back.”

You end up trailing off a little pathetically, feeling overpowered by his intense stare. God, he looks so unimpressed with you right now. You bite your glossy lip and try not to shrink into yourself entirely.

At last, Quaritch sighs and holds out his hand. “Give me that thing.”

You hand over the datapad at once, your eyes growing wide at the possibility of him actually accepting. Asking for this favour had served the dual purpose of fulfilling your work needs and getting to talk to him, but you hadn’t actually expected him to agree.

He squints at the photograph on the screen, and swipes lazily through the mass amounts of text accompanying. “I ain’t reading all that shit. Give me the run-down on it.”

You had actually written ‘all that shit’, but no matter.

“It grows similar to a fungus, so you’ll likely find it attached to trees or other plants,” You rush to explain, excitement beginning to bubble up into your chest. “You won’t be able to take an actual sample of the tissue without damaging it, so forget about that. What I really would like is a sample of the fluid that collects inside the cup on top, see?”

His eyes follow you as you reach up on your toes to point out what you’re referring to in the photograph, and his ears flick back in acknowledgement.

“It poisonous?”

You hesitate a moment. “...No.”

Quaritch shoots you a look of obvious disbelief. “You wanna try that again?”

“It’s not poisonous.” You say, a little bit more convincingly this time. “But it does have a sort of defence system. Just… don’t touch the little tendrils.”

Quaritch’s face is set in stern disapproval, but he isn’t saying no. 

“I’ll provide you with the instruments you need,” You continue, starting to bounce a little on your toes at the prospect of him agreeing. You really need these samples. “Oh, I’d be so grateful!”

There’s a muffled sound from somewhere over your shoulder, where the rest of the recoms are no doubt watching and listening with great interest, but you don’t turn. Quaritch’s gaze flickers only momentarily towards them, and they silence instantly. God, he’s so effortlessly commanding.

When he looks back to you, he just sighs through his nose and hands you back the datapad. “Fine. Send me the details.”

For a moment, you just stare at him. It takes a beat to register that he’s just agreed, and then a wide, beaming grin begins to grow across your face.

“Thank you-!” You start to squeal, but he cuts you off with a quick wave of his hand.

“Cut that out,” He grumbles, already beginning to scowl as he steps back. “Never let it be said by Ardmore that I was unco-operative with the goddamned science department, yeah?”

You’re not willing to press your luck any further than you already have. You just nod, a little frantic, before sending him one last smile and scurrying your way out of the room. The laughter from the rec room follows you all the way up the corridor, but you don’t care – you’re getting your samples and you just had your first conversation with Quaritch. He looked at you, he spoke to you. He knows you exist!

You’re smiling to yourself the entire way back to the lab, flushed with the pleasure of your success.

For the next couple of days, you’re waiting on tenterhooks for the recoms return. 

You still work away on your projects and your research, but you’re hyper-attuned to everyone that comes and goes from the lab. It’s not as though you’re really expecting the recoms to come into the lab, but you’re listening desperately for any news of their return.

The day before they’re due to arrive back to base, Geiszler comes to irritate you at your desk.

“Go away.” You grumble before he can say a word.

“Oh, come on!” He laughs. “I come bearing gifts!”

That catches your attention, and you raise your head from your work to squint at him. He’s standing there with a stupid sort of grin on his face, the kind that makes you uneasy, and his hands are tucked behind his back.

“What?” You ask suspiciously.

With a flourish, Geiszler pulls his arms out from behind his back. When you see what’s in his hands, you nearly scream.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with you-!” You hiss, whirling around to look frantically over your shoulders.

Mercifully, there’s no one around to witness the enormous blue dildo in his hands as he offers it up to you.

Geiszler is laughing, as though this is just the funniest shit he could have imagined. “Oh, the look on your face-!”

“Get that away from me!” You hiss, scandalised. “Oh my god, you do realise that I could report you for workplace sexual harassment-”

“But you won’t, because we made this specially for you-”

“We?” You hiss in disbelief. “Who the fuck is we?”

Geiszler waves that away as though it’s unimportant. “Me and some of the other guys in xeno. Look, it gets boring in the lab. We thought this was funny. It’s a Na’vi dildo, to scale. You’re welcome.”

“You are such an asshole.” You snap, mortified. “God, what is wrong with you!”

Geiszler just snorts, and places the big dildo on your desk, right in the middle of your papers. It’s almost comically large, made with bright blue silicone and featuring a prominent, squishy head. It’s even ribbed down the underside, with bumps that admittedly look rather attractive. Your face burns at the sight of it.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that 3D-printed-” 

“Take it back!” You pick it up and try to push it at him, but he’s already backing away with his hands up in the air. The stupid prick is laughing at you. 

“Nu-uh! It’s all yours!” He’s already backing away, all sniggers. “You can imagine the colonel-”

“Oh, you freak! That is so invasive-!” You nearly drop the dildo entirely, both horrified and mortified. 

Oh my god, it was to scale. This was the size of what the colonel was packing? It feels as though the silicone is burning in your hand, and you feel horribly hot and prickly. Oh, this was such an invasion of the colonel’s privacy. Whether it was the standard size of a Na’vi cock or not, the idea of using it while imagining Quaritch over you has you flushed and embarrassed.

Geiszler is still laughing when he ducks out of the lab, leaving you alone and absolutely humiliated.

After that, you avoid the lab. You know that the scientists all think that your crush on Quaritch is just one big joke, and you really don’t want to see them all smirking and sniggering when they see you, and you really don’t want to have to field any sly comments about the stupid dildo. 

You’ve been too mortified to even look at it too closely, so you take it and hide it away under a load of papers in a separate work area that’s usually used as storage. You’ve been hiding away in this separate little work room for days now; you can’t do any important experiments here, but it’s as good a place as any to work on your dissertation and at least you can be alone here.

You’re in this little work area, typing furiously, when the door slides open behind you with a hiss.

“Geiszler, if you’re here just to harass me again, I will fuck you up.” You bite out without turning, your shoulders turning tense as you glare at your monitor.

There’s a moment of silence, and you hope that he’s taken the hint to go away and leave you alone.

“I’m not sure I appreciate that tone, girl.”

You turn so quickly that you nearly overbalance right off your chair, eyes wide and horrified. The workroom that you’ve practically claimed for yourself is small, with low ceilings designed for human use – that means that Quaritch has had to duck down to fit through the door, and remains standing hunched and visibly irritated, with one hand lifted against the ceiling so he doesn’t hit his head.

“Oh-!” You scramble to get off your chair and fix your skirt, tugging it down straight as you hope and pray that your hair looks alright. “Sir, I- I didn’t realise that you were back!”

Quaritch just grunts. He does not look particularly happy, but he sets a large sample container on one of the empty desk spaces. Inside, it’s filled with a clear liquid that could easily be mistaken for water, but you know better.

“Oh!” You gasp, jolting forward to take a better look. “Oh, such a big sample! This is amazing, thank you!”

Quaritch says nothing, his big alien face impossible to read.

“It better be worth it.” Another voice cuts in, and you jolt in surprise at the realisation that there’s another big blue figure ducking in through the door after Quaritch.

You pause, uncertain in the face of this newcomer and already nervous from Quaritch’s overbearing presence. Oh, god. He’s brought company. Why has he brought company? Another blue head appears over the shoulder of the first soldier, and your eyes dart between them. You’ve spent enough time watching the Colonel to recognise them as Corporal Wainfleet and Private Fike, though you don’t have so much as a passing acquaintance with them.

“I thought you said they were harmless.” Fike grumbles, before raising his hands up to show you rather brutal looking purple bruises along the backs of his hands. “Fucking look at this.”

“Oh.” You breathe, wincing. “No, I said they weren’t poisonous. I did tell you to watch out for the tendrils. The defence system is really quite amazing-”

“Oh yeah, it felt fucking amazing when it was stinging the ever-loving shit out of me.” Fike interrupts, though he appears to have lost interest in speaking to you in favour of peering curiously around the work room.

You can imagine that the place looks fairly dismal; you hadn’t been expecting visitors, so your research is scattered everywhere. Coloured sketches and photographs of cross-sections of the panopyra plant are stuck up on the walls all over, not just around your own desk. You’ve taken advantage of the desks that are never in use, piling your notes and research high all over the place. Writing your dissertation is exhausting work, after all – there is just so much to learn from these plants, so much potential.

“Well, I think that it is worth it.” You say, stepping towards the counter that Quaritch had placed your sample on and reaching eagerly for the beaker. “It’s difficult to get samples like this – there are so few excursions into the jungle these days. But one this size might actually be enough to fuel my research for the next two months at least! I might actually be able to finish my dissertation at last-”

No one is listening to you, you’re quite certain, but you don’t let that deter you as you babble away, raising the beaker to your eye level so that you can examine it. The liquid inside is pure and uncontaminated – the perfect specimen.

“Whoa,” Wainfleet is peering at the sketches on the wall. “You’re really into these weird little plants, huh?”

“They’re the whole reason I’m here on Pandora.” You say matter-of-factly, placing the beaker back down on the desk. “Everything I’m doing here, all my research, is all centred around them.”

It’s the most you’ve ever said in the presence of the recoms, and you find yourself mentally patting yourself on the back. You really are intelligent and driven, though you’re sure that the recoms would never have guessed it based on how moronically you act around Colonel Quaritch. They seem quite surprised to discover that you have actual interests other than their beefy commanding officer.

Fike and Wainfleet both poke around the work room curiously, snickering with each other as they peer blindly into microscopes and push around enormous reference books like big kids.

“Hey, careful with that!” You say reproachfully, though they pay you no mind.

Quaritch himself is still standing silently, taking in the room with alert but judgemental eyes. He doesn’t seem all that impressed by your work, but then again it’s almost impossible to read him. He makes no effort to chide his underlings at all, and they continue messing about unchecked.

“Took us a while to find you.” Quaritch speaks suddenly, and your attention is drawn to him immediately, a swoop of excitement juddering through you at the fact that he’s speaking to you. “You’re not in the lab with the rest of the science pukes.”

Your silly excitement at being on the receiving end of his attention dims a little at that. Science pukes? Seriously? You’ve worked damn hard for this degree! 

“That’s not nice.” You say, then mentally curse yourself. It’s not quite the scathing reproach you had intended – it comes out a little wobbly and uncertain. God, why do you have to come across as such a sad little wet blanket whenever you’re in front of him?

“Not nice?” Quaritch repeats, sounding partially amused and partially disbelieving. “And when have I ever been known for bein’ nice, sweetheart?”

Good lord, he’s terrifying. You don’t normally have a difficult time standing up for yourself, but something about being on the receiving end of that bright yellow stare makes your stomach twist. You don’t know if it's fear or arousal, and you also don't know which would be worse.

“I just mean-” You start, trying hard to keep your voice strong and confident. “That calling people names isn’t nice.”

Calling people names isn’t nice. Fucking hell, you sound like a goddamn five-year-old. What is even happening to you? You swear you’re not normally like this. Has your brain just rotted thanks to all the stupid ogling of his big biceps you’ve been doing? You’re mortified.

“Jesus Christ.” Wainfleet’s voice calls out from somewhere behind you. “What the fuck is this?”

For a moment, you’re desperately relieved that they’ve called attention away from you. Quaritch is looking at you with scathing disbelief for that calling people names comment, and you’re quite sure that whatever he was going to say in response to that would be so biting that you’d wish you were dead.

But then you turn to look at Wainfleet, and you actually do wish that you were dead.

Because in his hand, looking almost regular sized against his much larger body, is that stupid, evil giant blue Na’vi dildo that Geiszler had given you last week. You had stuffed it behind a whole load of old papers on an unused desk and forgotten about it – it was just your fucking luck that these gormless blue bastards would unearth it accidentally as they poked around.

Mortification erupts through your body, so overwhelming that it roots you to the spot. No way. No way. No way.

“Holy fuck!” Fike bursts out laughing, and holds his hands up. “Give that here!”

Nothing can describe the sheer humiliation that sears through you when Wainfleet tosses the dildo to Fike. You just stand there frozen, watching the two enormous Na’vi soldiers throw a huge silicone dick between them in the middle of your workspace.

“Damn, the little intern’s a freak!” Fike says in mock approval, his voice dripping in amusement. 

He makes a show of holding the dildo up to the light and peering at it, faux-admiring the bumps and ridges along the shaft.

“No, that’s not-” You start, and your voice cracks. “That’s not mine-”

You go entirely ignored as the two soldiers roar boisterously.

“Damn, you think of the Colonel when you use this?” Wainfleet asks, cackling as Fike throws it back to him. “Is this why you follow him around everywhere? You want the real thing?”

The humiliation is so intense that it’s actually difficult to breathe around it, stifling and choking. You glance at Quaritch, hoping that by some miracle he’s gone temporarily blind and deaf and has missed this entire exchange so far. The idea of him knowing that you’ve been following him around is shocking, and you feel yourself shrinking.

Quaritch has just pressed his lips together. As you watch, he gives a deep sigh through his nose. 

Your stomach quivers with mortification. Oh my god. He knew already – how long has he been aware of your crush?

“No,” You choke out, your skin burning hot. “No, I don’t- I don’t use that, it was given to me as a joke-”

Quaritch is still so difficult to read, but even still he looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere else right now. His gaze flickers briefly over your face, which is all contorted in mortification as you just barely bite back tears, and he rolls his eyes with a sigh.

“Alright, that’s enough-” Quaritch starts, but it’s too late.

Wainfleet has just reached out and smacked Fike around the head with the dildo, laughing as he did so, and Fike stumbles back with a playful roar as he tries to escape the silicone cock. He throws his arms out to catch his balance, but his big hands splay across one of the work tables and knock some of your reference books to the floor.

But it’s not just the books he knocks into. His hand smacks into that precious beaker full of panopyra liquid, and you let out a startled shout as the force of the blow of his hand breaks the glass container, the liquid inside showering all over the desk with all your papers.

Everyone goes silent, as though the sound of breaking glass signals some kind of change in the atmosphere. 

You let out a sound that’s positively wounded, jerking forward to the destroyed sample. You needed this specimen so badly – it was supposed to inform the research that you needed to finish your dissertation. How long would you have to wait for another sample like this one? You’ve been working on this research for years, and you were so damn close to the end. So damn close to being qualified, to stepping up the ladder and being taken seriously by your peers rather than just being seen as an intern.

“Shit.” One of the recoms mutter; you don’t bother looking up to see if it’s Wainfleet or Fike. “Didn’t mean to-”

Your eyes trace over the mess of broken glass, but then you realise what the sample has broken on and you feel your stomach drop to your feet.

“No!” You shriek, launching yourself forward. 

The recoms all jerk in surprise at your shout, but you pay them no mind. It’s like they’re invisible to you now. All you can see is the way that your papers, your precious research, is being soaked through and destroyed by the liquid that has spilled all over the desk.

“No, no, no, no.” You breathe to yourself, biting hard at the inside of your cheek to keep from crying as you struggle to pick up your research, shaking it out in an attempt to get the worst of the wetness off.

It’s too late. Your research, all your painstakingly-taken hand-written notes, tears like wet tissue-paper in your hands.

You raise your head to look at the three recoms in your workspace, still clutching your destroyed research to your chest. You must look crazed, breathing heavily with wide and wild eyes, because Wainfleet and Fike share a wincing look with each other.

Awkwardly, Wainfleet reaches out and places the large dildo on the counter next to the ruins of your work. Everyone in the room struggles not to look at it.

Quaritch’s jaw is clenched hard, his ears pinned back against the sides of his head. He appears to be holding himself back from shouting, though you’re not sure at who. Slowly, he turns his head to look at his two subordinates, who are now standing with their heads ducked as they try not to make eye contact.

With trembling hands, you drop your ruined research back down on the counter. Your mortification is swiftly being overtaken by pure rage. 

How fucking dare they? It would be one thing for them to mock you about your crush (that apparently Quaritch was already fucking aware of) but it’s entirely another for them to humiliate you by parading around with that stupid fucking dildo that you’ve never even properly touched. And then to go and destroy your sample, the one that you’ve waited so long for and that you needed so desperately for your dissertation? And to destroy a chunk of your existing research too?

“Get out.” You whisper, your fingers shaking as you pluck at the ruins of your papers.

Quaritch sighs through his nose. “Look, we’ll get you another sample of the damn thing. There’s no need to-”

“Get out!” You raise your voice for real, whipping your head up to shout at them. “God, you assholes! Get out!”

Fike laughs nervously, glancing towards Quaritch. That only sets you off even more. They have the audacity to follow their commanding officer into your workspace and mess around, ruining things, and now they’re not going to listen to you after destroying your work? God, they look down on you so much it’s sickening. They’re not even listening to you after humiliating you so soundly, choosing instead to look towards Quaritch as if his opinion matters so much more than yours.

Your rage is only fuelled by your earlier embarrassment, your face flushed with heat as you glare at them. Oh, you’re furious. You can’t remember ever being so humiliated and livid in your life.

“I want you fucking out!” You roar, and when they don’t move you reach for a reference book on the table beside you and launch it at them. “You’ve fucking ruined it-”

Wainfleet ducks to avoid the book that soars over his head, but you’re already reaching for another one. He throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but you’re so blinded by rage that you barely even see it.

“Oi!” Quaritch lets out a shout and steps forward with his hands outstretched as if to physically stop you. “Enough! You’ll be written up for assault if you keep this up-”

You let out an inarticulate noise of fury as you throw a second book, this one bouncing harmlessly off Fike’s shoulder. “I’ll be written up for murder if you don’t get the fuck out of here-”

Wainfleet lets out a sound that sounds like a nervous giggle that’s been choked back. You can imagine that it’s a little bit of a shock for them to see you go from shy and mild-mannered to absolutely fucking insane, but your crush on Quaritch really had made you act like a total idiot around them. You feel so stupid about it now – you had become so enamoured with someone who totally ignored your existence, shrinking into yourself like a goddamn wallflower because you were so shy around him.

But Quaritch is looking at you, for possibly one of the first times ever. Not just looking at you, but seeing you. 

When you grab at a microscope to throw, heavy and metal and definitely capable of doing some damage, Quaritch lets out a sharp hiss and steps forward with a single hand outstretched towards you as though to physically restrain you.

“Get out.” He says without looking at his soldiers.

Wainfleet and Fike share a look with each other before practically scrambling to leave. They can’t seem to leave fast enough, though you have no doubt that they’re snickering together as they go. 

“You too.” You grit out, fists clenched around the microscope as though it’s a weapon. “I want you gone too.”

Despite your obvious anger, Quaritch makes no move to leave. His big honey-coloured eyes trace over the broken glass on your desk, your ruined research, your big teary eyes. You probably look like a mess; you’re practically sweating from all the embarrassment, your hair is in disarray, your eyes are all swollen from the angry tears that are threatening to spill over.

“You need to calm down, darlin’.” He says, his voice low and a little bit rumbly. Ordinarily that might make you melt, but as it is you just feel as though he’s being condescending. “It’s just some goddamn plant water. You’ll get more on the next run.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You snap without thinking, your chest still heaving with poorly stifled emotion. “It’s not just about the sample and you know it.”

Quaritch’s golden eyes cut towards the big dildo on the counter, and you feel your temper flare all over again.

“It’s not about that either!” You snap, embarrassed and defensive. “This research is my life! Without it, there’s no point to me even being here on Pandora. Your fucking knuckleheads have just destroyed months worth of work. Do you have any idea how much harder I have to work than the fucking men out there?”

You gesture towards the door to the main laboratory, where you’re sure they’ve walked past all the overwhelmingly male scientists working away. No doubt they can hear the shouting, but no one has been brave enough to come looking to see what’s wrong. 

Quaritch’s expression doesn’t so much as twitch as he watches you rage, and he doesn’t interrupt.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is just to claw my way up to equal standing with them? They laugh at me enough already, that’s why they gave me that stupid thing-” You wave at the dildo without looking at it. “Just because they knew that I liked you. They laugh at me for having a stupid crush on you, and I… I’m so sick of people looking at me like I’m just pathetic, because I work so hard! And now you’re here, and you’ve just ruined my work-”

Quaritch lets you rant until you run yourself dry. You’re breathing heavily, exhausted and furious and so fucking sick of the sight of him.

“Look, kid.” He says at last, when you pause for breath. “You’re sweet. Pretty. Smart, clearly. But I ain’t looking for anything like that. I need to focus on this mission-”

“Oh, what the fuck.” You breathe, staring at him in total disbelief. “Is that the only part you fucking heard? I have a crush on you, that’s it! All I wanted was for you to look my way, and it took a giant fucking dildo for you to actually acknowledge that you knew about how I felt? You’re such a dick-”

“Hey,” He barks, stepping forward. He’s so huge, his bulk alone throwing you into shadow as he looms over you. “Watch your mouth-”

“No!” You snap, although your voice is a little thin. He really is an intimidating bastard. “No, you don’t get to tell me what to do! God, I am so sick of men thinking they can tell me what to do-”

Quaritch’s chest erupts in a little rumbling snarl, and you have to fight not to flinch away from him. He’s like a beast, lip all curled up over his fangs as he growls at you for your attitude.

“So what, your solution is to hide away in this miserable little room?” He demands, stepping forward just so he can look down his nose at you. “Some of those dickless little science guys were mean to you, so you’re gonna lock yourself away like this?”

“It’s not-”

“What’s the point in dressing up all pretty in those little skirts with all that makeup if you’re hiding away in here, huh?” He continues, insistent as he keeps pushing forward until you start to back up. “Maybe that’s why they don’t take you seriously. You need to stand up for-”

“That’s for you!” You shout, temper flaring up all over again. “I do that for you, because I thought you might look at me!”

Quaritch pauses at that, blinking as though you’ve just taken him by surprise. It infuriates you; how could he be so stupid, especially when he has known about your crush all this time. It’s not like it was subtle.

Suddenly, you feel absolutely exhausted. It’s like every ounce of your energy has been leached out of you, and you turn your head and sigh. The amount of emotions that have washed through you in such a short space of time has left you feeling drained and drawn, and you just want to be left alone now.

“I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You say tiredly, turning away from him and burying your face in your hands. “Just get out. Go away.”

There’s a long pause, but mercifully Quaritch doesn’t try to argue any further. You’re still turned away and facing the wall, so you hardly hear his quiet footsteps as he turns on his heel and marches out of the room. The door whooshes closed behind him, leaving you alone and hunched in the middle of the room.

In hindsight, you may have overreacted with the recoms a little bit. 

You had been careful to back up some of the most important points of your research to your hard drive, so you hadn’t truly lost as much information as you had initially feared. It’s more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, really. The loss of the sample does sting quite a bit, but you’ll get more. It just might take another couple of months – the wait is frustrating, but there’s nothing you can do about that.

All you can do is try to recoup some of the notes that you’ve lost, and struggle to write more based on the samples that you’ve already studied. It’s very difficult to come up with any new material when you don’t actually have anything to work with, but all you can do is your best, as usual.

Geiszler creeps into the small workroom a few days later. 

For several days after the incident with the recoms, none of your colleagues have dared to say a word to you. You’re sure they had heard the shouting, the glass shattering, the sound of you throwing books. If they had somehow missed all that, then they surely would have noticed the recoms that had stalked from the workroom, all agitated and pent up from the argument. Yet none of them have even asked you if you were okay.

“Still avoiding us, huh?” Geiszler asks, his question accompanied with a nervous laugh.

“Fuck off.” You bite out without looking away from your computer screen.

“Ouch.” Geiszler mutters. “I suppose I might deserve that.”

You can hear him approaching, but you still refuse to turn around. You just keep stubbornly working away, acting as though you’re too busy to spare him any attention. Unfortunately, Geiszler doesn’t let your inattention sway him; he just settles in a stool nearby, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I, uh… heard about that little blow up you had with the Colonel.” He says, clearly a little awkward. “I wanted to apologise. Upon reflection, the, uh… the dildo thing might have been a little inappropriate.”

You fight the urge to sigh. God, what did you do to deserve being surrounded with morons like this?

“Yeah, no shit.” You mutter, finally looking up to glare at him. “Why are you here? All I want is to be left alone.”

Geiszler, to your gratification, looks positively shame-faced. He’s looking down at his hands as he twiddles his thumbs, sighing.

“Wanted to apologise, I guess.” He mutters, shrugging.

“Yeah, well, whatever.” You mutter, finally abandoning your attempts to appear busy as you turn to him. “Plenty more Na’vi on Pandora, right?”

A nervous giggle bubbles out of his chest, as though he’s not certain if he’s allowed to laugh or not.

“Yeah, yeah, right.” He says, starting to grin. “And, uh… are you.. Are you strictly Na’vi-sexual, or are you-”

You burst out laughing, turning to look at him in disbelief. “Na’vi-sexual? There’s no way you just fucking asked me that.”

There’s a bizarre sort of blush on his face, but he laughs along with you anyway. “Right, right. Well, you can’t blame me for wondering, right? With your crush, I mean.”

Your smile fades, and you look back down at your work scattered all over the desk. 

“I don’t want to talk about that, actually.” You murmur, “I think I’ve made enough of a fool of myself as is.”

Geiszler nods awkwardly, looking distinctly guilty.

“Yeah. You, um,” He breaks off, scratching uncomfortably at the back of his neck. “You look nice.”

You just raise a sardonic eyebrow at him. You’ve gone without makeup today, and you know that going bare-faced makes you look younger, but who were you kidding with all that makeup, anyway? You’ve abandoned the sleek pencil skirts and pretty blouses, too. Under your lab coat you wear a simple sort of sundress, one that stops just below the knees. No heels, either, just sneakers.

“Yeah, well.” You shrug a shoulder lazily. “No one to impress.”

Geiszler’s smile twists as he nods again. “Sure, sure. Um… look, I was wondering-”

You never do get to know what it is that Geiszler is wondering. The sound of the door to the workroom hissing open cuts him off, and he falls silent as the two of you look to see who has just encroached into your space.

The sight of Quaritch’s big blue form ducking in and then straightening up has the two of you stiffening, staring at him in disbelief. 

You’re absolutely rooted to the spot at the sight of him, but when he turns to look at you, you whirl around and immediately feign being busy. You grab blindly at papers and datapads, and peer unseeingly at your computer screen as you try to look preoccupied. What is he doing here?

Geiszler, meanwhile, doesn’t even try to pretend that he’s not gawking stupidly. 

Quaritch glances his way, and his expression drops into a sneer. “What’re you looking at? Get outta here.”

Irritatingly, Geiszler scrambles to do just that. He sends one last glance towards you before practically fleeing from the room, nervously ducking around Quaritch’s imposingly large figure.

Your eyes bulge a little now that you’re left alone with him, and your eyes dart around frantically around the room in search of something to do. Why is he here? Why the fuck has he come back? It’s been days since your embarrassing breakdown in front of him, and you’ve been blissfully unaware of him since. You’ve basically just locked yourself up in this room, working on your research. You’ve even taken meals here – it’s a much more productive use of your time than wandering around the base after Quaritch in the hopes of catching a good glimpse of his ass in his camo.

Fighting to resist the urge to look his way, you tap urgently at the datapad in your hand.

“Do you need something, Colonel?” You ask icily, your attention focused down on your pad. “I’m very busy.”

There’s a momentary silence, but you’re not willing to look up to see his expression.

“Was that one of the cockless little deadbeats that’s been giving you a hard time?”

Giving you a hard time. God, it sounds as though you’re a bullied little kid. How embarrassing.

“He’s the one that gave me the dildo.” You say simply, tapping on the datapad screen. “But he’s not so bad, I guess. Just a bit of an idiot. That doesn’t answer my question.”

The next pause is much longer.

“Haven’t seen you around.” Quaritch drawls, his voice slow and even. “Couldn’t get away from you, before.”

Oh my god, this man is just determined to humiliate you. 

Pursing your lips, you turn and march towards the specimen fridge in the corner of the room. It’s really just a mini fridge; a low, hip-high box that contains various biological specimens, and you kneel down and stick your head inside in an attempt to look busy.

“Not like there was any need to come see you.” You call out simply, your voice slightly muffled from inside the fridge. “You made yourself pretty clear, before.”

“Oh?” His voice is closer, though his steps are so light that you can’t hear him approach. “About what?”

“About me.” You snap, though you keep your head firmly buried in the fridge. It’s so much easier to talk to him when you can’t see his face. “Just go back to ignoring me, please.”

There’s another long pause, and you keep staring blankly at the bright white wall of the mini fridge. But then a touch comes to your hip, and you jolt in surprise. 

Quaritch’s hand is big and hot, the heat of it searing through the fabric of your labcoat and your sundress. It engulfs your whole damn hip, curving around towards your lower stomach.

“What’s with the change in clothes, sweetheart?” His voice has dropped an octave, rumbling into you as you feel him shuffle closer. “I thought all those little skirts were for me.”

Your fingers clench around the door of the fridge. What the fuck is he doing? All that time you had spent dressed up, made up, simpering like a damn idiot at him, he had barely even given you a sideways glance. But now, after screaming and crying at him like a lunatic, he’s making a pass at you while you’re wearing a simple dress with no makeup. What the fuck?

“I’m not trying to impress you.” You say simply – you feel braver inside the fridge.

“No?” His thumb strokes over your thigh, and you feel the hem of your dress hitch higher. “Well, I like this little number. Better than the others, maybe.”

You swallow thickly, staring blankly at one of the little labeled test tubes beside your face. You don’t answer, but you don’t protest either. Quaritch seems to take your lack of response as encouragement, because his whole hand drifts from your hip to just under your dress. You jerk as you feel the skirt being flipped up over your ass – but you still don’t pull away.

“Hey, kid,” He murmurs, his voice soft and a little condescending. “I gotta question for you.”

His hands are moving slowly, as though waiting to see if you’re going to kick out or try to stop him any way. You know you probably should (where is your goddamn self-respect), but for some reason you allow the touch to travel all the way up your thighs.

Your belly tightens, heat flooding between your legs. Oh god, why aren’t you stopping this? You’re already embarrassed enough about the show of yourself you’ve made in front of him – this is surely going to make it worse by making you seem like a total slut. But then again, you’ve been desperate for him since you first locked eyes on him. Maybe you are a slut.

“What?” You breathe, your voice trembling a little as his big fingers leave red-hot trails over the bare skin on the back of your legs. A large palm strokes over the inside of your thigh, the soft calluses tickling your sensitive skin.

“That dildo. You ever use it?”

The question startles you enough that you jolt, the top of your head smacking into the top of the fridge. 

“What?”

He chuckles, and then you feel those big fingers curl around your cotton panties. “You coming outta there?”

“No,” You blurt, grabbing at the sides of the mini fridge. “No, I’m very busy.”

There’s a sharp tug to your underwear, and you gasp as you feel him pull the back of your panties up so that they’re wedged right up between your ass cheeks, the fabric stretched taut and tight over your cunt. You’re admittedly wetter than you’d like to be, and you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of him noticing.

And yet, you still don’t pull away. If anything, you’re holding your breath, waiting to see what the fuck he’s going to do next.

When you feel warm breath on your exposed ass cheek, you nearly choke. Oh my god, how closely is he looking at you right now? Is his face pressed right up between your legs? It sure fucking feels like it.

“Answer the question.”

You swallow thickly. “I, um.. I don’t-”

His hand twists, and you gasp as your panties are pulled up further. The message is clear – tell the truth.

“Once,” You choke out, mortified. “Just once! I just- I threw it out after, I didn’t-”

You don’t even have time to fully process the fact that you’ve just admitted that. It had been a moment of total weakness, your decision to smuggle that stupid dildo back to your room. Or maybe it had been morbid curiosity – you just wanted to know if you would be able to take it. You had binned it straight after, mortified by your own weakness. 

There’s a sharp pain on the soft pudge of your ass, as though he’s just nipped at you there. Your thighs twitch together, horrified by the little electric zap of arousal that jolts between your legs.

“Could you take it?” He wonders, and you can hear a grin in his voice.

Holy shit, is this happening? Are you dead? Hallucinating? Have you just lost your goddamn mind?

Emboldened by the fact that he can’t see your face where you’ve stuffed your head and shoulders into the fridge, you mumble, “Pervert.”

Two hands grip at your hips, and you let out a wheezing, startled gasp when you feel a wide, rough tongue lick a stripe across your pussy through your panties. His spit soaks through the delicate fabric, making it cling to your already sticky cunt. 

“Whatcha say?” He mumbles, his muffled words vibrating against your clit. He sounds smug, the bastard.

Your thighs clench around his face, but he just reaches up and pushes them back open again with no effort.

“What are you doing?” You gasp out, dropping your forehead down onto the tray of the fridge and making the sample test tubes clink together dangerously.

He huffs a short laugh and pulls his head back to nip right at the juncture of your ass and thigh, making you jolt away from his mouth. “What, you don’t like it? Want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurt, reaching back to try and grab at his head to keep him in place.

He knocks your hand aside, but you can feel him laughing. “Get your head out of that goddamn fridge then, before I drag you out.”

You feel like staying inside the mini-fridge just on principle, but you can’t bear the thought of him pulling his mouth away from you. Not when he’s finally started to touch you, after so long of you yearning for it.

Slowly, you pull your head out. No sooner have you started to move then Quaritch uses his grip on your hips to pull you out. You let out a startled sound as his big hands grab at you and flip you, throwing you on your back in front of him. The display of casual strength is unexpected and very, very attractive, and your legs spread eagerly before he even moves to open them himself.

When you actually get a look at him, it nearly bowls you right over. His pupils are so blown that they’re swallowing his irises, leaving just a thin ring of gold around the edge. His ears are held high and alert, and his mouth is quirked in that infuriatingly cocky little grin right now. 

Fuck, he’s just as horny as you are. The realisation is shocking.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” He asks, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them right off with no effort.

You don’t put up a single ounce of fight, arching your back with an excited gasp as you’re left exposed in front of him with your dress all hiked up around your waist.

He lets out a soft groan as he reaches a finger out and drags it through the folds of your cunt, clearly marvelling at the wetness that has collected there. That same finger slips inside of you and you moan, wanting more, wanting to roll up into it, wanting the ache inside of you filled to the brim.

“Look at you, kid, all sexed up like this.” He says, pulling that finger out and admiring the glistening slick on his hand.

“You’re just a-” You gasp, heaving for breath as you struggle to regain yourself. “A dirty old man!”

That makes him laugh, a low groan of a sound that makes your eye twitch. Holy fuck, does he like being called names?

“Oh yeah?” He rumbles, sounding delighted. He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s licking at you again.

He flattens his tongue and guides it up, sliding across your slit before enveloping your clit in his mouth and sucking. You’re arching into his mouth, breathlessly stuttering his name as your hips twitch. His hands on your hips are so big and so strong, holding you so firmly in place as his mouth devours you. 

The flat of his tongue is rough and textured like a cat’s, and you let out a low gasping sound as it catches against your clit. Two of his fingers push into you as his tongue works over your clit, as thick and meaty as a well-hung cock. He must feel the flutter of your cunt around his fingers, because he growls low, his powerful form all but vibrating with tension. 

Oh god, he’s so big. You had known that, of course, but it’s so different having him all up in your space like this, your legs thrown over the bulge of his biceps as his big head worms its way between your legs, licking insistently at you. The bulk of him is enormous, simmering sexuality about to boil over - it’s insanely arousing to you, the sheer energy of him sending your head spinning. 

The onslaught of sensation from the wet heat of his mouth has your head dropping back to the floor, staring up at the ceiling as your eyes go wide. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and as much as you don’t want to give Quaritch the satisfaction of knowing that he affects you like this, you can't help the way your back bows as he licks and sucks at you. 

He grins against you when he feels you shiver against his mouth. When your thighs clench closed around his head he groans softly against you. Embarrassed, your legs spring back apart, but Quaritch reaches up and grabs at your thighs to prevent them from spreading too wide.

“Squeeze if you want to.” He grunts, before devoting all his attention to licking and sucking at you once more. He tugs encouragingly at your thighs, and when you wrap them tentatively around his head he gives an appreciative little hum.

You shiver, chest heaving. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, his textured tongue rasping over the bead of nerves, a strong white current washes over you and you arch into his mouth as you come.

You can’t speak, can’t think. The feeling is too overwhelming, too all-consuming before the come down eventually starts and words are coming out, your body shaking. 

“Oh fuck, god – oh my god,” you sob, slapping your hand over your mouth, biting down at your palm. “Quaritch– please, shit.”

You jerk your hips up, partially in an attempt to escape from the relentless stroking of his rough tongue over your oversensitive clit, but Quaritch moves with them. He’s basically on his knees following your cunt like a dog as you try to twitch away, using his huge hands on your ass to keep you pulled tight against his mouth.

He goes on licking at your clit and the swollen puffiness of your cunt, and when the rough texture catching against your most sensitive spot gets too much for you, you have to push at his head. He pulls back just slightly, but then continues to lick at the insides of your thighs, as if to lap up every last glimmer of your slickness.

Your head rolls on your neck, all boneless and loose as you wheeze for breath. Jesus Christ, you’ve just come so hard you can’t feel your toes. Colonel Quaritch has just eaten your pussy so goddamn good that you nearly blacked out. What the fuck?

Your cunt is still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when you feel Quaritch’s big fingers pressing inside of you, testing the stretch and slickness.

“You never answered me,” He murmurs, his tone almost conversational despite the huskiness of his voice. “And I hate repeating myself. So tell me; could you take that dildo?”

“Yes,” You sob, twisting your body around as his thumb rolls over your too-sensitive clit. “Yes, I could take it.”

“Yeah?” He says and it comes out on a purr, the vibrations rumbling in between your legs. “Think you could take me?”

You hardly have any idea how you’ve gotten into this position, but you’ve been imagining this for months now. You’re not stupid enough to throw away this chance.

“Why don’t you come and see?” You breathe, leaning back and arching your back boldly. You can hardly believe your own bravery, but maybe your own horniness is just making you stupid.

But Quaritch laughs, as though he finds you stupidly amusing, and his hands drop to his belt. You watch with wide, eager eyes as he flicks open his cargos and pushes them down and oh! There it is.

You push yourself up to get a better look, mouth falling open a little bit as you get a look at his cock. It’s big and blue and ridged, just like the dildo, but you hardly think it’s fair to compare the two. Quaritch’s cock is real, and looks velvety soft to the touch with a prominent, purplish head. Opalescent precum is beading at the tip, tinged slightly blue and glowing a little bit, what the fuck? He’s so hard that it looks a little painful as it strains against his stomach, though he’s still grinning so slyly that you would never guess.

You want to touch, but you don’t get the chance. His big paws for hands close around your hips and flip you again so that you’re on your hands and knees once more – he seems to like you in this position, because his hands grope insistently at the soft flesh of your ass as he grinds his hips into yours, the thick hardness of his cock rutting against the inside of your thighs.

He’s rough with you by human standards, but never enough to hurt. Just enough to send a little thrill up your spine when he pulls your hips into his, the thick ridge of his cockhead beginning to prod at the entrance of your cunt. It’s hot and large, but your mind feels like liquid, too drunk on all the pleasure he’s given you so far to deny more. 

You choke weakly, but you don’t try to wriggle away. You can do this, you can take him. He’s prepared you well, you’re relaxed and so wet, and you had managed to take that dildo inside you, if only for a brief time. You try to stop tensing and relax yourself as you take shaky breaths.

Quaritch pushes his cock in a little further, almost unbearably slow. You feel yourself being stretched open, small stings of pain shooting through you as you drop your forehead to the ground and grunt. One of his big thumbs strokes over the small of your back, the motion soothing and unexpectedly sweet as he slips another inch inside. 

“Oh, fuck.” You squeak, eyes wide. 

You can feel little bumps and ridges squeezing their way inside as he penetrates you, your lungs seizing up. Quiet cries and gasps fall out of your mouth as you adjust to the feeling of his cock filling you up. No human had ever given you this overwhelming sensation before, the feeling of being impossibly stretched open beyond belief. Not even that stupid goddamn dildo had come close to this.

Every time you think the length of his textured cock has finally ended, he’ll push a little more of himself in. You keep your eyes tightly closed as you continue panting heavily. He’s going incredibly slow too, careful and deliberate in his movements. You had stupidly thought that you would adjust quickly, but it feels as though you’re just barely hanging in there. 

Then, finally, Quaritch pauses. It’s a mercy, because your breaths are coming in wheezing pants now as you clench up around his cock, tightening up around the intrusion in flutters. You must be tight to the point of causing pain, but he just lets out a rumbly sort of groan against your back. His hands tense around your middle, impossibly long fingers holding you in place.

Right as you begin to accept the size of him, he uses that grip on your waist to pull you away from his cock and then back down onto him again. It knocks the wind right out of you. You gulp wildly for air, soundlessly. You can’t even cry out, you’re so stunned.

“Fuck,” Quaritch moans. “Like wet velvet, honey. Well done.”

Before you can process or even think, Quaritch pulls out and then pushes back into you, again and again. Every bump drags against your walls and snags on every sensitive part of you. It feels like you had never been fucked before this, the sweet, dull pain and overwhelming sensations of Quaritch looming over your body ruining you. 

He huffs and growls as he begins to thrust up into you, no longer slow and careful. Each time he pistons his hips, it’s powerful and keeps you from taking deep breaths. The way his body presses into yours, the way every part of you touches his burning skin, is intoxicating.

His need, his hunger borders on bestial. His wet breath condenses against your skin as he ruts into you fervently, destroying your thoughts. You’re totally at his mercy, whimpering pathetically and whining. 

It’s all too much, his size, his pace, his sharp teeth nipping the back of your neck and shoulders. He’s like a wild animal, his hard cock burying itself inside you over and over again. It’s the first time that you really begin to appreciate that Quaritch isn’t human anymore – it extends far beyond his looks and into his behaviour and instincts as well. There’s no reprieve; you can only accept his intense pace.

Unbelievably, your abdomen is tensing again, reeling up tighter and tighter. You’re on the brink of coming again, but it feels like it’s impossible. You’ve never been so pleased by a partner before, hardly ever able to come at the hands of someone else, and you’ve never come so quickly twice in succession before. You feel like you’ll die if you come again, it was too much. Everything was too much.

“Come on, mama, let me see that back arch.” Quaritch mutters to you, his voice thick and growling as his big hand settles across your shoulderblades and pushes you down.

All you can do is obey, shivering as his big hand keeps your upper body pinned to the floor, his other hand using its grip on your waist to pull your ass up higher so that he can pound into you at a better angle.

“I’m going to-” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you sob against the floor. “Oh, god, oh fuck, oh shit, I’m going to-”

“Gonna cream on me?” Quaritch grunts, his pace taking the air out of you. “Go ahead, kid. Go on. This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?”

His hips slam into your ass with every thrust, every drag of his cock working those ridges against the sensitive nerves inside of you. You can feel him twitch inside of you, a sure sign that he’s approaching his own release. The thought makes you moan as the strength behind his hips sends you skidding forward on every thrust before getting yanked back by his hands.

Your lashes are all clumped together from tears, your mouth hanging open stupidly – not only are his thrusts knocking the air from you, it feels as though they’re knocking the thoughts from you too. It feels as though he’s giving fucked stupid an entirely new meaning. Your entire world has narrowed down to the sensation of his cock rutting between your legs, his balls grinding against your clit. Your release is winding up in your belly, and you feel your eyes roll and toes curl as it approaches.

“You been watching me, wanting this. If I’d known what a little spitfire you were, maybe I would have given it to you sooner-”

He rocks into you, his pace now rough and deliberate as he claims you in short, fast strokes. Your little workroom is filled with the unmistakable sound of slapping flesh, his hips snapping against your ass with every feral grunt. He has you pinned so firmly beneath him, every thrust feeling as though it’s punching right up into your chest. It aches, and that ache spreads throughout your pelvis, your belly. It’s warm and sweet as syrup. It feels like he's going to break you in half. You think you might want him to break you in half.

“Look at you go.” Quaritch mumbles, seemingly to himself, and then you feel the broad expanse of his hand slap against the soft flesh of your ass. It seems like he just wants to watch it jiggle as he ruts you like an animal. 

He leans forward, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he murmurs to you.“This is what that limp-dicked bitch from earlier wanted with you, you know. Bet he imagined you just like this, all stretched out and wanting on that dildo he gave you. Little pervert. He wouldn’t know what to do with you. Think he’s outside listening? I bet all those cockless motherfuckers are listening right now, trying to imagine what you look like. Let them hear you, honey. Go on.”

It’s too much for you. Your elbows give out, your face smushing against the floor as Quaritch uses his grip on your hips to pull your ass back against him, his huge torso plastering itself against your back. His cock is spearing into you so deep that you feel as though you’re going to feel him inside you like this forever, feel the ghost of his cock plowing into you long after he’s gone. You feel every ridge, every vein, every throb.

“Oh god, oh fuck, shit, please!” You wheeze, shuddering as he fucks you into the floor. “I need to come, I need to come-”

You’re cut off from your babbling when one of Quaritch’s big, thick thumbs hooks into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. You moan, closing your eyes and sucking desperately at his stupid blue finger.

“Fuck, you’re hungry for it, ain’tcha.” Quaritch snickers, but he sounds breathless and a little disbelieving. “And here I was thinkin’ you were such a shy little thing.”

Just as suddenly as his finger had pushed its way into your mouth it’s removed, and you almost whine at the loss of it. But then, to your shock, you feel the spit-slick pad of his thumb stroking over the exposed rim of your asshole. He presses inside, the blunt thickness of his fat thumb wiggling inside as your whole body clenches around the intrusion hard.

With an overwhelmed scream, your entire body pulses like a heartbeat and your vision goes white. Your orgasm rocks through you like fire, as relentless and merciless as Quaritch’s rocking hips as he continues to fuck you through the quivers of your release.

“There you go,” He coos at you like you’re a goddamn animal. “Oh fuck, you needed this, didn’t you?”

Choked moans and hitched breaths bubble out of your mouth uncontrollably. It’s like he’s just been waiting for you to come, because now he loses that edge of controlled restraint that he’d managed to maintain. His thrusting is sloppy, uneven – he’s unmistakably nearing his own finish.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, darlin’.” He snarls. “Look at you gushin’ all over my cock.”

You yelp as he buries himself deep inside of you one last time, a rumbling snarl tearing its way out of his throat. You can feel the ridge of his pubic bone against your ass, his muscular thighs bracketing your own. He is rooted to the hilt, burrowing as far as possible, and you choke at the sensation of impossible fullness.

Quaritch hisses like an animal when he comes, and you squeal at the feeling of his hot come splashing inside of you then overflowing. It’s so hot that it feels as though it’s burning, but Quaritch just keeps going, the squelching shamefully loud in the quiet of the room.

Soon you’re forced to reach back and slap at his hip, gasping for breath and whimpering under the onslaught of his spent cock rubbing so insistently at your hypersensitive sex.

“Enough, fuck! Enough!” You wheeze, your forehead dropping down against the floor in surrender.

There’s a pause, and then Quaritch stops moving, his slowly softening cock buried deep inside and staying there. The heavy weight of him feels good, and you go lax on the floor as his big hands hold you up so lazily. Your chest is still heaving as you try to regulate your breathing, and Quaritch makes a couple of condescending cooing sounds to keep you quiet as he rolls you over beneath him. 

“Ow, fuck.” You breathe when he pulls out of you, leaving you awfully empty and clenching around nothing as you feel the wet dribble of his come spill out of you.

He pauses, glances down at your cunt. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, but Quaritch seems to be immensely satisfied at whatever he sees. He chortles a soft laugh, and reaches down to stroke his fingers through the sticky mess he’s left between your legs.

Your head lolls on your shoulders as you swat at him, grumbling at the electric shiver that the oversensitivity sends through you. He just snickers at your weak attempt to smack his hands away, unphased, and closes his hands around your waist before bodily picking you up to hold you against his chest.

You groan, unhappy to be moved. “Jesus Christ, gimme a minute.”

He ignores you, snorting another quiet laugh before standing with you, unbothered by the way you hang limp in his arms as he carries you towards one of the desks. His breathing is slightly laboured, and he practically drops you on the surface of the desk as he reaches for the respirator that he seemed to have abandoned when he first came in. His determination to fuck you through atmosphere that he struggles to breathe in is admirable; the Na’vi may be able to breathe oxygenated air for up to an hour, but it can be a challenge and that’s without strenuous physical activity.

Still, you can’t help but snicker yourself.

“What's wrong, old man?” You crow at him, grinning as you lay splayed out and exhausted on the desk below him. “Out of breath?”

Quaritch takes deep breaths from the respirator, clearly trying to regulate his body again after so long without proper air, but he still manages to choke a faintly disbelieving laugh.

“You used to be so sweet.” He mutters, slapping lightly at your thigh. It’s not a harsh smack, just enough to have you jolting a little under him. “What the hell happened, huh?”

“You didn’t look twice at me when I was sweet.” You grumble, reaching down to push the skirt of your dress back down self-consciously. “So don’t go acting like you’re disappointed.”

Quaritch snorts. Respirator abandoned, he leans down and nips at your shoulder, grinning against your bared skin as you jerk and cry out ow, fuck.

“Mm, I like a bit of fire.” He mutters, allowing the respirator to hang down around his neck as he licks over the little bite mark he’s left. “But you’re wrong about me looking. I can’t say I didn’t like those little skirts.”

“Oh.” You breathe, starting to smile. “Okay.” A little flustered now, you start to push yourself up into a sitting position, embarrassed about your spread legs. “Um… where’s my underwear?”

Quaritch grunts as though he doesn’t care for the question in the least. “D’you need them?”

“Yes!”

That big, stupid smug grin again. You’d dearly love to smack it off his face, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He doesn’t make any effort to seek out your lost panties, but you can’t be too irritated with him when he keeps nipping so insistently at the base of your neck, leaving hot twinges of pain-pleasure in the wake of his mouth.

“Asshole.” You say, though without any heat. Your eyes slide closed, enjoying his rough tongue against your collarbones. “Hey. You never told me why you came looking for me, anyway. Was it just to laugh at me?”

Finally, Quaritch raises his head. This close, you allow your eyes to trace over his face; his features are so alien, big and bold and more expressive than he intends. His ears twitch, and you fight back a smile at the sight. Sweet.

“Brought you more of that damned plant water.” He grunts. “It’s on your desk.”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately try to sit up, pushing roughly at his chest. “What?”

Quaritch allows you to push him away, though it’s not without an irritated sort of groan. Still though, he doesn’t look annoyed as he steps back to allow you to scramble off the counter he’s had you propped up on. If anything, his swishing tail reveals his sense of satisfaction.

Your knees nearly buckle when you hop down on the floor, but Quaritch’s enormous hand wraps around your elbow and keeps you upright. You don’t pause to try and regain your balance – you’re too busy trying to stagger over to your own messy workspace, your eyes wide and fixated on the sight of a sample beaker perched atop your desk.

“No way. No fucking way-!” You crow, your face splitting into an irrepressible grin. “Holy fuck!”

If possible, this sample is even bigger than the one that Wainfleet and Fike had smashed all over your notes. You take it in with disbelief, your hands reaching for it eagerly.

“A sample this size will let me do all the tests I need for my dissertation and more,” You breathe, awed. “I can- oh, wow. I’m going to finish my whole thesis. I’m going to get my motherfucking PhD.”

Quaritch’s mouth quirks, clearly amused by your foul mouth. He leans back against one of the spare desks just so he can watch you fuss over the sample he’s brought. 

“Do I get something in return?” He asks, and you can feel his big golden eyes dropping down over the length of your legs. His gaze feels even more heated now, as though knowing exactly what’s under your dress has lit some sort of fire in him.

You snort, stepping over to the sample fridge with the beaker clasped very carefully in your hands. 

“You certainly do not.” You say archly, hoping to maintain an aura of aloofness as you tug the fridge door open and place your precious sample carefully inside. “As far as I’m concerned, this sample can be considered reparations. If you bring me a sample of panopyra sensory tissue, however… then we can talk about rewards.”

You half wonder if maybe that was too bold, but Quaritch’s next chuckle holds an edge of heated delight. It seems like he wasn’t lying about liking a little fire. You’re so distracted by the careful tucking away of your sample that you jolt when you feel huge blue hands coming to land at your waist, tightening over your hipbones.

When he leans in to murmur in your ear, you shudder helplessly at the rumble of his chest. 

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart,” He mumbles, a hand reaching to stroke boldly over the curve of your ass. “And maybe next time we can get going without you wearing this damn fridge as a hat.”

[miniwheat77]

Taste. (Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Sex pollen, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, Ghost manhandling you, (sorry if I missed any)

This was a request!

You’re listening to what your Captain is saying but your nerves are shot, you don’t get along too well with Ghost.

Not for any particular reason, aside from him being a stern man. He intimidates you and the idea of going on a smaller mission, completely alone with him. It’s scary. You’ve never been alone with him before, especially not working together. You’ve heard stories of him getting angry and yelling. You’ve seen him in battle before, how violent he is. It’s nerve racking.

But unfortunately, these are your orders. These are what instructions your Captain has given you, you have no other choice.

Loading everything up into the Humvee was stressful, making sure everything was there, that you hadn’t missed anything. The massive man checking over you to make sure you’d gotten everything. You weren’t excited for the ride to the compound. It was a small underground building not to far off from your base, which is why it needed to be looked over. Laswell said it didn’t seem like there was any movement. The ground around the building seemed undisturbed, like it had been empty for some time. The ride was quiet, the only sound you heard was the rattling of items inside the vehicle and the Humvee itself. Ghost insisted on driving, which you didn’t mind. You stopped a ways away from the building to scope it out. Setting up snipers and watching the building for some time.

It’s quiet. No movement, no vehicles. Nothing. Ghost explains that he wants to watch it for a while. See if anyone comes and goes.

To his surprise, no one ever does.

“Let’s move in. Looks clear.” He demands. You nod your head, he drives the Humvee all the way up to the front of the entrance, only a small dome pokes out of the ground. You get out of the Humvee, walking beside Ghost into the building. He pushes the door open, the both of you stepping into the large doorway. Unfortunately, neither of you noticed the pressure plates under your feet. As soon as your feet touch them, small holes open up on the door frame, exposing a hole. Darts come shooting out of the holes, hitting ghost in the shoulder, missing you by a few centimeters. He’s worried they’re tranquilizer darts, ripping it out of his shoulder in a panic. “Fuck-“ he gasps, stepping forward into the building. He needed to clear it out quickly. He rushes through the building, you following along with him. Once the building is clear, he feels better.

“What do you think that was?” You ask him. He shrugs, pushing passed you. The building is some kind of lab. A large vat of iridescent orange liquid sat in the center of the circular room. Ghost walks toward the door, leaning back. He steps on the pressure plate, another dart shooting out and sticking into the wall on the other side. He pulls it out, seeing the same orange liquid inside of it. “I don’t know what it is.”

“They’ve got to have some kind of information. Specimen information.” You set your gun down, looking through the paperwork on the table. When you don’t find anything there, you click into a computer. Luckily there’s no barrier and you’re in right away.

What you read, it’s pure filth. Going in depth about the mysterious liquid and what it’s meaning was for.

Breeding purposes for an army.

A sigh leaves your lips. “What?” He asks. “You might want to see this LT.” You breathe. Ghost makes his way over to you, eyes scanning across the screen. He scoffs. “Suppose that’s one way to get more members for a squad.” He sighs. He leans over you, muscles flexing as he rests his hands on the table. “Found the effects of the liquid.” He sighs.

- if a subject comes in contact with Specimen 0, arousal sets in after around 15 minutes. Body weight and volume of fluids injected may vary in timing. Symptoms may include

-Increased sex drive

-Increased desire for sex

-Unbearable arousal without sexual stimulation

-Heightened sexual senses

Subjects are at extreme risk of a heart attack without sexual stimulation.

Out of 147 subjects, 107 suffered heart attacks. 67 of which died. The remaining subjects that did not suffer heart attacks were stimulated sexually and used for reproductive reasoning. Specimen seems to affect women more than men.

You’re reading the page out loud. Heart starting to race from nervousness as you read the screen.

“That means.. 100% of the people that didn’t have some kind of relief had a heart attack, only a few survived.” You sigh. Ghost chews at his lip nervously behind his mask. This means one thing and one thing only. “Maybe it’s too old. Maybe the effects of it have been diluted.” He shrugs. “Maybe. So.. we wait. I’ll search for an antidote.” You look through the computer and the stack of papers for more.

As you both settle in, sitting down. You’re waiting patiently. You can’t seem to find any kind of antidote.

Ghost leans forward, it’s been about forty-five minutes. He’s shed a lot of his equipment, just wearing a shirt and pants with a belt holding his gun. He rests his elbows onto his knees, groaning out. You turn to look at him. “You okay?”

You turn toward him. “M’fine. Just hot.” You nod your head.

His eyes rake over your body from behind, desperate to touch you. His eyes are blurring, heart is thumping rapidly in his chest. If he doesn’t get relief soon, he’s fucked. “Fuck- Y/N.” He breathes. “My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest.” He breathes. “You may have to leave me here alone so I can.. fix this.” He breathes. His eyes are on yours, he wants to devour you. You look up at him, catching his attention. When you make eye contact, it lights a fire inside of him. “Y/N.. you need to go.” His voice is deep and demanding. “No, not until you’re okay.”

“I can’t trust myself not to- not around you. Go-“ he growls. He grasps the hem of his mask, tugging it off. “No.” You plant your feet on the ground, his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide from desire. The primal need pumping through his veins is unbearable. He’s going to pounce you any minute. For your own safety, he needed you to go. He closes his eyes tightly, cock impossibly hard in his pants. “Y/N.. if you don’t go.” He groans out, hands clutching at the chair he’s in, the muscles in his arms clenching up. “I can’t promise I won’t hold you down and fuck you until you cry.” He seethes, muscles in his neck flexing and tensing up. The little vial of orange liquid sits next to you. You’re probably crazy for it. You’re eyeing it and he doesn’t understand what’s going through your mind. You pick up the vial, hearing him grunt in what sounds like the worst pain he’s ever gone through. You stab the vial into your thigh, his eyes widening as he watches the iridescent liquid seep into your bloodstream.

“What are you- doing?”

“Figure we can suffer together.” You pull your gear off, tugging your shirt of your head, skin already starting to feel hot. It did say it affects women more than men.

Ghost stands up from the chair he’s in, closing the distance between the both of you in just a few strides of his long legs. His hands glide along your hips, shoving you back into the desk. It’s all over.

He’s biting your neck, feeling your jugular vein pulsing as he glides his tongue over it. He pushes his nose into you, inhaling your scent. Arousal pools between your legs, you need him. “If I hurt you.. just know it’s not me.” He breathes. “I trust you to hurt me, Simon.” You pant. A deep guttural growl rumbles from him. He grasps the button on your pants, unbuttoning it and shoving them down your legs. Your panties slide with them and he swears he can smell you.

Heightened sexual senses.

His hands explore your exposed body, gliding down your sides before resting onto your hips. “Can fucking smell how wet you are.”

“Simon!“ you mewl, tilting your head back. “Want you-“ you gasp. “So fucking horny..” he grits his teeth, fingers gliding along your opening. Another mewl leaves your lips and he draws his hand back from you, your wetness coats his hands. When he spreads them apart, strings of your arousal part between his fingers. He slides them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. He returns his hand back to you, soaked with his saliva. He’s rubbing circles over your soaked opening and your legs are weakening, ready to buckle underneath you at his touch. He circles your clit with one hand, his other reaching for his waistband.

You’re ready to drool at the sight of him, you swear he’s teasing you by how slow he’s moving to unbutton his pants. He exposes his waistline and he admires the way you’re watching him so closely, desperate to see every single part of him. His heart is pounding in his chest, he needs your pussy, soon. He pushes his pants down his legs, grasping your thighs and lifting you up. He pushes you up against a wall, hiking your legs up higher on his waist. The tip of his cock nudges against your pussy and he doesn’t have to steady himself, your pussy swallows him right up. “Oh fuck-“ he gasps, resting his forehead against yours as he starts fucking himself into you. “Fuck.. always knew you’d get me in trouble.” He growls. “Walking around base, as sexy as you are. Can barely keep my fucking eyes off of you.” He grits his teeth, hammering his hips into yours. He’s fucking you as hard as he can.

You can’t form sentences, can’t even think straight as he plows into you. You’re clawing at his arms and back. “You looked at me before this?” You whimper. “Course I fucking did.” He moves his forehead from yours, lips right up against your ear. “You avoid my eyes because I intimidate you. Don’t you?” You nod your head. “Nothing to be intimidated by. But I like your little game, like a bunny and a wolf hm?” He smirks into you, your body still jolting up with every hard thrust he takes. You moan out, nearly crying on his cock. Just like he said you’d be. “You like that Bunny? So intimidated by me but so willing to take my cock.” He chuckles. “Good fucking girl- I’ll play your games.” His chuckle is deep and taunting. He pinches your nipple with one of his hands, a cry leaving your lips. He pushes you up further against the wall, arms resting at the bend of your knees. He’s pinning them to your front. Your arousal is soaking him, surely going to leave a mess on him. The thatch of hair at the base of his cock is sticky from you, pushing up against your clit, stimulating you with every sharp thrust he takes into you. You’re getting close already. “You can cum, Bunny. Feel how tight you are.” He smirks. “Not yet, not until you do.” You pant. You’re about to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Do you like my pussy, Ghost?” The use of his nickname sends him reeling. “Fuck yes-“ he growls. “When you were eyeing me, I didn’t think it was because you wanted my pussy.” You smirk. It fades quickly as he pushes you close to your high with his cock. He attacks your neck with his teeth again, “can’t help myself.” He growls. Returning to mark you as his own. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He growls between thrusts. You can’t hang on any longer, he’s too much. One more nudge of the tip of his cock into your spongy spot sends you spiraling. “Fuck Simon!” You soak him with your orgasm, tilting your head back and grasping at him to hold onto him, squeezing him as he fucks you through your orgasm. He’s trying to keep himself together, knees ready to buckle with how hard he’s going to cum. He pulls you away from the wall, laying you down onto the cold, hard ground. Hammering his hips into yours. He’s desperate. You’re overstimulated, tears slipping from your eyes as he abuses your hole. “Fuck- I’m gonna cum-“ he growls, holding your hips tight against the ground. His hips are moving sloppily, he’s right on the edge. He pants hard as he chases after his high. With a groan, he reaches his peak. Filling you up with his cum before his hips come to a halt. He’s breathing heavily as he feels himself pulsing against your walls, feeling you clench down onto him. You’re throbbing around him, and he can’t help himself as he rocks his hips into yours one last time.

A gasp leaves your lips and you squirm away from him, hearing him laugh through harsh pants. “Fuck..” he breathes.

He slides out of you, watching his spunk spill back out of your hole.

He helps you up, blood still pumping the mysterious iridescent liquid through him. His cock is still hard, refusing to relax any time soon. His heart doesn’t feel like it’s about to beat out of his chest. “Im sorry if I was too rough on you.” He breathes. “I couldn’t control myself, I tried to warn you.” He sighs, looking down. You spin around, bottom half still exposed. He eyes the way his filth drips down your thighs. Reaching down to palm himself through his pants. “Maybe I didn’t want you to control yourself.” You smile. “You’re fucking crazy. Injecting yourself with that.” He chuckles. Avoiding your gaze. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get like this. He didn’t feel embarrassment. “Figured I’d be able to keep up with you better.” You smile. “Did it work?” He asks.

“Yeah I’d say so. Although I’m not sure I’m entirely satisfied.” You chew on your lip nervously. Playing with the hem of your shirt. His blood starts pumping through his veins again, the smell of your arousal filling the room. He needs you. Again.

“Still have another couple hours before we’re expected back.” He breathes.

It only takes another couple seconds before his lips are on yours again, cock seeping into your abused hole for relief once more.

[timetodiverge]

After rewatching The Bad Batch episode 3, I'm feeling that:

-for sure Ventress is one of the "specimens" in the Vault; who knows what other "dead" force users too *cough*macewindu

-those blood sample machines are mixing specimen and clone blood; Omega is not necessarily force-sensitive but her DNA supports a "successful m-count transfer"

-to protect her, clone force 99 will have to destroy Hemlock and the lab (meaning he won't be around to hunt Grogu in The Mandalorian), unleashing all the v strong and v angry "specimens" in the process (yay)

[asexual-spongebob]

Okay so um.

here’s some fun facts about Vela! :3 (one of my zadr fankids)

Her pronouns are she/her, and she is the token cis person in her family. (She is pan, and demidemi tho).

Her chosen name means “Sail” in Italian (as, she loves sailing.) and it’s also the name of a star constellation. As, she fucking hates her given name lmao. She doesn’t understand why Dib let Zim name her that.

Her name is pronounced V-luh Her full name is Zim Jr “Vela” Jude Membrane (that’s a mouth full) she chose her middle name herself. Her uncle Skoodge calls her Vela Jude. So yeah.

Probably has a childhood friend or something. I still need to think abt that.

Is 11 years younger then Sev, and 6 years younger then her cousin Ska.

Goth baby. This bitch blasts the smiths, joy division, the cure and specimen on repeat. Blame her aunts.

She speaks in a monotone voice. And she also sounds like Wednesday Addams. (Specifically 90s Wednesday.)

Has summoned the dead before. Be like “Why hello father. I was just summoning the dead.” Like father, like daughter.

Has a fish shaped birthmark and a irken logo shaped one, referencing how her Dad is a siren and how her Pap is irken.

She plays her antennae off as some weird goth accessory. (Makes sense tho, she’s a very crafty person. And even makes some of her clothes herself.)

She took over Membrane Labs as an adult. As she always liked science. (Blame her grandpap.)

She knows about the Irken empire and hates the Tallest with a burning passion. And also hates the way Irk works with a burning passion. She learned about the Irken empire when she was around 9.

She didn’t know she was a siren until she around 8, as Dib and Zim kept it a secret from her for safety. (And, she didn’t turn into a siren went she cried, because she cries Irken tears, which are sweet rather than salty.) At first, she was kind of mad at Dib or not telling her, but as she got older she understood.

She doesn’t have a water allergy.

She’s kind of mean, but she’s a sweetheart around people she likes.

She likes her coffee dark, like her soul. With some sugar tho.

Has a special choker, which was a gift from her aunts. She also wears Gaz and Tak’s old clothes.

Sev is a good sibling to her.

She enjoys helping Zim with his science projects, and she also enjoys eating Lick-a-sticks with him. She likes dancing with him too and thinks he’s funny.

Zim’s more of the Fun Parent™️ and lets her do stuff that Dib wouldn’t let her do.

She has long wavy hair, just like Dib when he was little. Goes bowling with her uncle’s Skoodge and Keef, and her ancle Tenn.

Her favorite food are kiwi’s, fish and Phish Food ice cream.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Re: Kidnapped!Chloe - Mad Science Edition

Made a sort of script to later refine into a story if I wanted to. It covers the reaction of the organization behind the kidnapping to learning about the whole 'whoops, they grabbed someone important'.

The Reaction (scripting - refine into proper story later)

S: Director, we have a problem.

V: What is it this time? Is Dr. Grey acting up again?

S: Is he ever not?

V: Fair point. Lab accident?

S: None since Friday.

V: Material shortages again?

S: No, supplies were topped off just yesterday.

V: Good work. So what is it?

S: The test specimen acquisition operation, Director.

V: I see. Has there been any exposure?

S: None yet, but if the situation worsens-

V: *stops walking* Tell me everything.

S: The team in Paris took someone important. 

V: How important?

S: The mayor’s daughter.

V: I assume that a media circus has occurred?

S: Quite.

V: *resumes walking* Well, we can simply tell the team to put out a ransom letter and arrange a release. Simple enough.

S: It’s not that simple, Director.

V: *stops walking* Of course it isn’t. 

S: She is already on a plane to the island.

V: *turns to S* For the love of- when was she acquired?

S: Three days ago.

V: …three days…?

S: Director?

V: Do you have a child, S?

S: No. Do you?

V: Yes. They stay with their mother.

S: You’re married?

V: Not anymore. 

S: My apologies.

V: Don’t apologize, it was all my fault anyway. You have to sacrifice a lot to change the world, after all.

S: Very true, Director.

V: Now then, if we can’t give her back to her negligent parents, we’ll just have to burn away the trail.

S: I’ll have the Paris Acquisition team liquidated then.

V: Good work. Just to be safe though, I want every link of the trail left dead. I know what lurks in Paris and if we drew their attention here this early… it could be disastrous to our work here.

S: A full liquidation? All the way to the port?

V: Tempting, but it’s too much of an expense to replace all of them. Burn a few facilities. Move the teams, perhaps even out of the country? I hear Brazil is nice this time of year.

S: I’ll get it done, Director.

V: Excellent. That should settle the matter.

S: Will that be all?

V: Has this specimen been Akumatized?

S: Yes. Multiple times, I believe.

V: Arrange allocation for testing of the Serum. I’d like to see if this will have any effect on the results.

S: Doctor Grey will likely object.

V: Yes, yes, disruption of natural development as he says. Quite annoying. Is our replacement ready?

S: They’re a bit concerned about some particulars, but they have successfully replicated Grey’s work on the Serum.

V: Excellent. Have the good Doctor reassigned to the other side of the glass. 

S: It will be done.

V: Oh, he has that friend in engineering, doesn’t he?

S: I believe so, Director.

V: Reassign her too. 

S: Understood.

V: Good. Be sure to alert me when testing begins. I’d like to see the look on his face when he realizes just what his petty objections have done for him.

S: I’ll send the information as soon as I have it available.

V: Excellent. Dismissed. *resumes walk*

Terrifying!!!

[lykaiosthinks]

uh haha shit ton of apoc/final lives au lore under the cut, mainly first time meeting situations (it is long)

V meeting Jo:

“Another day, another pill…or 3.”

V popped some assortment of pills into his mouth. He didn’t really know what they were anymore, all he knew was that they kept him alive and somewhat sane. Living in an apocalypse, he didn’t really have a choice. It was live or die, and V preferred to live.

Walking into his lab, V scanned the room and remembered why he woke up so early. Barely any materials on his shelves. He begrudgingly picked up his machete, grabbed his shoulder bag, and crawled up the ladder onto the first floor of the building he was sheltering in. Walking out of the building, he looked around for any of the Infected. Nothing in sight, but he knew there could be any number of them lurking around a corner. Cautiously, he started walking towards where he knew he could find some more chemicals and whatnot for his medicinal abominations that he would often concoct.

That was most of what he did anyway. You’d think being in an apocalypse would open up a lot of free time, but keeping yourself alive occupies quite a bit of that expected free time when there’s barely any sustenance. Due to a lack of actual food or drink, V didn’t really eat much. His extensive medical knowledge allowed him to create renewable supplements that replaced all of the necessary vitamins, minerals, and acids that his body needed. Of course, making them into pills wasn’t exactly the most interesting solution to the problem, but it was easy and convenient. Water was a different story, though. None of the piping in the building he lived in worked properly, so he often had to make trips straight to the water plant about an hour away. It was the only source of relatively clean water, and while the water wasn’t exactly the healthiest, it wasn’t nothing a few more chemicals couldn’t fix.

He wasn’t in need of any water at the moment, however, only some chemicals. Raw chemicals weren’t easy to find though, so he would have to extract them from some unconcentrated source. He treaded lightly, as to not bring any unnecessary attention to himself. He could fight off any of the Infected if he had to, but it would be better to avoid conflict. As he walked, he happened upon what he thought to be a horde of Infected, but he could only hear some odd grunting and groaning noises. He quickly hid around a corner from where he had heard the sounds, and peeked out to learn what had been making the noises.

His first thought was that while there was a group of Infected, it was not as large as he had previously thought. His second thought was that there seemed to be one of them that was particularly separated from the rest. After watching for a few seconds, he realized that it had begun to attack the other Infected.

“What an interesting specimen…”, V thought to himself, “It seems to be considerably more competent than the others. I wonder if I can get anything useful from it.”

As he watched this strange Infected fight off its comrades, his curiosity began to grow. Was it really an Infected? V had to know.

As he quietly approached the creature from behind, he slowly procured a minor tranquilizer from his bag. Not strong enough to knock it out, but strong enough to temporarily disarm it, which would allow him to further examine it. When he was just behind it, he quickly analyzed a spot in its clothing where he could strike, and stabbed it in the arm.

It screamed some line of obscenities upon impact, which was yet another clue that V might not be dealing with an Infected. Reacting fast, he caught it as it fell, and he slowly set it down on the ground. After taking a second to realize what had happened, it weakly lifted its arm to try and dislodge the syringe in its arm, but to no avail. It eventually looked up at V, and spoke.

“What the hell?! What do you think you’re doing? You piece of-”

“Fascinating. So you can talk. Very well then, I at least know you’re not one of them.”

“Really? I had been wondering if I was an Infected too, you know. But your surefire hypothesis has really put me at ease.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you. And anyway, your eyes are all black. Pretty telltale sign that someone is an Infected.”

“I could say the same to you.” It replied.

“Fair point. But I would not be surprised if someone else had the same reaction as I did.”

“Yeah, whatever, shut up. Now, you wanna tell me why exactly you did this?”

“Well, had you been an Infected, that tranquilizer would have demobilized you long enough for me to figure that out, and promptly dismiss myself.”

“Right. Question number two: can you undo this?” V took note of the creature’s clear dismay. Or was it a human? V didn’t exactly know what to call it, he had never considered what he might be to anyone else. He hadn’t had any interactions with anything other than Infected in quite some time now. Of course, if he played his cards right, he could potentially have a new companion. But he would have to be careful, and he wasn’t off to much of a start anyway.

“Of course I can. But I’m gonna ask you a few questions first. Nothing personal, of course.” It groaned in response.

“First: what is your name, if you have one? Or at least, what should I call you?”

“You can call me…Jo.” V was beginning to get somewhere.

“Alright then, Jo. I want to make it clear here that I do not have any malicious intent towards you, unless you have some towards me, which leads me to my second question. If I let you go, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, get up and leave? I was on my way back to my base anyway, but I got harassed by some Infected.”

“Base, you say?” V’s curiosity peaked. “Do you live with anyone else, or just by yourself?”

“By myself. You’re the first…person I’ve seen in a while.” His curiosity dropped again. It wasn't as if he wanted to meet anyone. He wasn’t exactly fond of people, and they likely wouldn’t trust him in his current situation, as this encounter had made him aware of. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was still here at all, but he continued.

“I see. Are you…struggling at all? I understand living in this apocalypse isn’t exactly forgiving.” V’s tone of voice was becoming more compassionate as he spoke. Jo seemed unsettled by this, which V understood as he was unsure of himself at this moment.

“Why do you want to know? How do I know that you won’t just…take advantage of me or something?”

V finally took a moment to carefully consider why he was even doing this at all. What could he stand to gain from this? For months he had lived all on his own. He had created an environment and a routine, and it worked. It seemed like he didn’t need anyone else to help him. But deep down he knew, he just needed someone. It didn’t matter whether they could help him or not. The innate insanity inside him filled his every empty thought, and it drove him further and further from what little humanity he had left. He knew that just having someone there would be infinitely better than living in isolation. But he couldn’t admit that. Not yet.

“I…have my reasons. But I can promise you that I have no intentions of harming you. If it will provide any comfort to you, I will not inquire any more about your decision to join me, if you choose to do so, and if you promise that you do not mean any harm.”

“I…could use some help. And sure, I can promise you that I ain’t gonna hurt you. Now can you finally undo this stupid tranquilizer or whatever?”

“Yes, but I’m going to need you to trust me one more time. Swallow this pill.”

V produced a small pill from his bag, and put it in front of Jo’s face. She looked at him, concerned, then down at the pill in his hand. She hesitantly opened her mouth, and as V placed it on her tongue, she slowly felt her arms and legs regain their strength. She stood up and moved all of her limbs again, amazed.

“How the…?”

“Come with me. I’ll show you.”

V and Jo meeting Cleo:

“Alright, so you need acetone, paracetamol, chloro…xylenol, morphine, acetylsalicylic acid…I’m not even gonna try anymore.”

Jo read off a list of assorted chemicals V had handed her. Or tried to, anyway. She swore that he was the only person left in the world who could actually pronounce any of these.

“Yes, yes, no need to bother. As long as you can find them for me. And see if you can find any medical research on fauna while you’re there. Now that I have you living with me, I need to start maintaining another form of sustenance other than straight chemicals.”

It had been about a month since Jo moved in with V. Life had been different for both of them. V lived off of pure chemicals and medicine, and he had become adjusted to it during the apocalypse. However, V knew that Jo couldn’t do that, not after living off a normal nutrient supply. He decided to try and cultivate a garden of sorts, so Jo wouldn’t have to be subjected to the onslaught of medications that V thrived off of. He had learned that most plant life was naturally resistant to the infection that sprawled over the city he once lived in, which made it much easier to create a renewable food source.

“Right. Just make the food or whatever, at least I’m not dying.” Jo climbed the ladder to the surface, and made her way out of the building. They had discovered an untouched basement under a pharmacy with an abundance of medications, which was where Jo was headed.

V didn’t have much of a plan to pass the time. Having two people around meant things got done a lot faster than before. While V liked the efficiency, it left him with a lot of free time, almost as much as one would think an apocalypse would give you. He wanted to pick up a hobby, but he couldn’t think of anything to do. But V would have something to do soon enough.

“Ellie! Ellieeeee!” The sharp cry of a voice seeped through the small windows that connected the basement to the outside world. Startled, V walked over and climbed the random assortment of boxes, peering out to see who or what had called that name.

“Ellie! Where are you?” Again, he heard it. His eyes weren’t enough, he needed a better look. V tried pushing on the window, but it resisted. The window likely hadn’t been opened in months, but now was a better time than ever. He slammed against it, busting it open. Unfortunately for V, the noise that the window made was louder than he would have liked. The voice stopped, as if to signal it had heard him.

“Ellie? Is that you?” The voice was closer. He heard footsteps coming towards his direction. As the noises grew closer, he could see feet turn the corner across the street. He quickly shut the window, but it only made more noise. Whatever it was, it had almost pinpointed his exact location. He could only hope that it ignored the window that was basically on the ground. But his hope quickly diminished as the footsteps stopped right outside. V retreated away from the window, making his way towards the back of the room. He could see it obstructing the light from outside. He tried holding out hope that it would just go away and ignore him, but when it stooped down and started fiddling with the window in an attempt to open it, he knew he had to do something.

He couldn’t barricade the window; whatever was outside knew that V, or at the very least something, was in here, and blocking the window now would only increase its curiosity. At this point, V had accepted that it was going to come inside at some point, so he started to think of what to do. He ran through a few plans in his head, but not before he heard a crash from the other side of the room. He whipped his head around to see a foot through the window that he had regretted ever opening in the first place. He barely had enough time to quietly dash into another room before it had finally made its way into the lab.

“Damn it,” V thought, “That couldn’t have gone much worse.” He could feel his heart begin to beat a bit harder, as the thought of being discovered crossed his mind. Whatever it was – human, infected, or whatever him and Jo were – it probably wouldn’t like him. He couldn’t bear the thought of his presence being made known to the outer world. He had to do something about this, and quickly.

“Ellie! Please, it’s me, Cleo! I’ve been looking for you for so long! I promise I won’t hurt you, I just want to see you again…please…” As it passed by where V was hiding, the voice seemed to trail off. V cautiously peered out of his hiding place, and saw it standing just out of his reach. Slowly, he crept out, trying so hard not to make even the slightest sound. He held his breath, and…

“Let go! Let me go! Get your hands off me!”

It screamed, writhing in V’s arms. One hand went over its mouth to muffle the sudden and unexpected exclamations, but it only resorted to ear-piercing shrieks. V tried to reach his other hand down into his bag to procure that same tranquilizer he had used on Jo a few weeks earlier, but before he could grab it, the captive squirmed its way out of his hands. It scrambled to its feet, and pulled out what seemed to be a battle ax, facing V. His immediate reaction was to unsheath his own weapon, facing it as well. For the first time, he could finally get a good look at its face. It seemed to be an uninfected human girl, barely younger than himself. She sported a face mask, allowing V to only see her eyes. With her hair tied back in a messy ponytail, she stood slightly bent over, seemingly weighed down by her disproportionately sized ax.

“You…you’re human. You’re not infected…or are you?” V spoke first. Her eventual reply was filled with fear and terror.

“Please, no, I’m not, I swear…I’m just looking for my sister.” V could tell that he was likely in control of the situation here, so he proceeded with a bit less caution.

“Your sister…is that Ellie?” She nodded.

“How did you know?”

“I heard you as you were coming here.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t know anyone would be in here, I promise.” Her stance had gone from aggressive to passive, signaling she had no current plans to harm him.

“Do you work for anyone? Are you part of any group or organization?”

“No…I only had my sister. But I lost her when a building collapsed while we were inside. We both ran different ways, and I haven’t seen her since. I still believe she’s alive somewhere. I’ve been looking for her for months now, but…nothing.”

V could clearly tell by the tears forming in her eyes that she was not okay. At this point he was quite sure she could not do him much harm, nor did she intend to at the moment.

“Listen, I’m not the only one here. I’ve been living with someone else as of late, but they’re not here right now. For safety reasons, I’m going to keep you here until they come back.”

“Wait, please, I need to leave. I need to find my sister.”

“I understand that, but I can’t let you leave without knowing what you’ll do after.”

V looked around, unsure of what to do next. It was clear the girl was in severe distress, but he wasn’t sure of what to do next. He didn’t want to let her go, but he saw how desperate she was beginning to get. All he could think was to wait until Jo returned, but he didn’t know where Jo could be. He knew Jo would probably be better at dealing with the situation. In the time they had lived together, Jo had made him realize how inept he was at dealing with others. Of course, Jo wasn’t the best at it either, but she was far better than him. Living in isolation quite obviously didn’t lend itself well to social adaptation. Still, only a few weeks of living with someone else cannot fix months’ worth of isolation, and what little he had begun to relearn was not helping him in his current situation.

Time passed slowly. V eventually got up from where he had sat down and slowly walked away from the girl, who had curled herself up and put her head to her knees. She seemed to take no notice, much to V’s relief. He walked into the big, open room, looking around for something to do. Just as before, though, there was nothing. V thought to restock on some of the supplemental chemicals he had concocted recently for the food plants, but alas, Jo was out and about acquiring those same chemicals that he lacked. Next, he thought about trying to reorganize his shelves and boxes. They were already organized, but he wondered if he could convince himself to find yet another way to organize them. He would have organized Jo’s things, but he had learned the hard way that Jo had a system for her belongings that V lacked the ability to understand. It did not follow any sort of order, yet she insisted that it be kept the way it was.

While debating whether to move on to another task, V heard the familiar rhythmic sound of Jo’s sneakers on the ceramic tile floor above.

“Sweet relief,” V thought, “Now we can figure out what to do with the girl.”

As Jo opened the entrance to the basement, she handed down a bag of assorted chemicals in vials and bottles. She climbed down the ladder while V looked inside the bag, assessing the materials she had managed to yield.

“Got most of the drugs you wanted, I think. I looked at the names like you told me and let me tell you, I have never been more thankful for people who were obsessed with labeling things in my life. Oh, and I couldn’t find anything on plants or whatever, but I stopped by a library on the way back and found this book about edible mushrooms.” She took the book out from under her arm and handed it to V.

“Hm. This will have to do, I suppose. Does it have anything about where we can find these?” V said, flipping through the pages.

“Maybe, I didn’t look too hard at it. I kinda just grabbed it and left. There honestly might have been some other stuff in that library.”

“Very well then. Oh, yes, I have a…surprise for you.” The expression on V’s face as he said this told Jo she was not in for the pleasant type of surprise.

“What did you do now?”

Jo followed V into the back of the area, her curiosity growing by the second. As V opened the door, Jo peered inside. The girl looked up at the same time, meeting Jo’s gaze. Both of their eyes widened simultaneously, and both because of the fact that they were staring at another person. Jo gasped.

“What?! V, what’s going on? Where did this girl come from?” Jo turned to him, a mixture of confusion and anger in her voice.

“As far as I know, the outside. She came in through one of the windows, looking for her sister.”

“Her sister?” She turned back to the girl.

“Did you lose your sister?” The girl nodded.

“Oh that’s so terrible, I’m so sorry to hear that. Have you been alright?” The girl shook her head, her expression turning sour at the memory of the terrible event. Jo walked into the room and sat down next to her.

“What happened after she came in the window?”

“Well…” V paused, “I didn’t know what to do, because I didn’t really know anything about her and what her plan was. So I waited in here until she walked past me, then I grabbed her from behind and-”

“Woah, what the hell?!”

“I didn’t know what to do! I was stressed, okay? You gotta understand where I’m coming from here, I don’t trust anyone anymore.”

“You trust me.” Jo rebutted.

“Well, we’ve been living together for a while, and anyway, I still don’t fully trust you.”

“What the- Okay, we’re going to discuss that later. For now, this girl needs help. She’s lost her sister, and right now we are probably the only people she’s seen in a while.” Jo turned to the girl again.

“I’m sorry for what my friend did to you. I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Jo said, shooting a mean look at V, “and we’re gonna help you find your sister.”

“Woah, hey now, you’re not calling the shots here. Let’s at least talk about this.”

“V, shut it. You don’t get a say in this after what you’ve done to this poor girl. Probably scared her out of her mind.”

Just as V was about to return with some insult, for the first time in the conversation, the girl spoke up.

“No, I can’t let you do that. I need to find her on my own.” Jo and V looked at each other, then at her. Jo replied first.

“What? Let us help you. It’s dangerous out there, you’ll be safer with us.”

“Please, just let me go. I don’t need help.” The girl replied, her voice a bit louder this time. V took his turn to speak.

“I hate to say it, but I’m with Jo on this one. We both struggled to live on our own.”

“I said no.”

V and Jo exchanged glances. They silently agreed to not push it any further. Still, it was clear to both of them that the girl needed help.

“Please, can you let us help you? We don’t have to help you find your sister, but it’s still dangerous out there. We have food and a place to live.” Jo said, trying her best to convince the girl to stay with them. The girl looked up at Jo, then to V. He nodded, agreeing with Jo.

“Yeah…that sounds nice.”

Jo and V looked at each other again, this time with a bit more hope in their eyes.

“Alright, then. What’s your name, by the way? I don’t think we ever asked.”

“It’s Cleo.”

“Well, come on then, Cleo. I imagine you’re probably not feeling too well. V can get you fixed up right away, maybe as an apology for what he did earlier.”

“Okay! Alright! I get it! Shouldn’t have done that…still don’t think it was completely unreasonable, though.”

[positivelybeastly]

Krakoa, Year 22- 26 (?), +2 Years After Parasitic Decimation of the Wild Hunt AKA "The Salt"

How long did it take to resurrect the last members of the Wild Hunt to die? Not as long as it took to bring back everyone who died on Genosha. Still, those who hung on until those last, terrible moments when the "pretender council" doused a portion of Krakoa in salt... waited a few years. There was a queue, after all. Also, the confirmation and the digging. Preserved bodies everywhere. It was like a salty Mt. Vesuvius, only the dead wound up as mutant jerky.

And the Beast--? Well, he's sitting pretty in that neat lab of his with his experiments, and his specimens, and his database of memories from the seven or eight mutants who refused the mind wipe after their rebirth. Living memory and consent. That messy business.

He's got a nice little recording of her memories as well, the mutant woman towering over him, stinking of depression and trauma for all that she's clean and bothered to brush her teeth. Her nostrils flare as she takes in the sight of him. "My G-d," is all she says, one corner of her eye twitching in a facial tic.

(They'd found her leathery corpse wrapped around, oh, Daken or someone. There's drama now.)

Her bony, clawed hands are shaking at her sides, but she gives a sharp jerk of her chin, as if to shake away those pesky trauma-nerves, breathing in deep. Then, "My memories." In his computerized book of secrets, or whatever the hell it is. "I want to see them. In the Hunt."

He'll be wanting a 'please' at least, but she doesn't offer it up. Yet. Never mind that now is a good time for a healthy application of social lubricant.

"Beginning to end of infection."

BEAST'S LOGBOOK: IN SEARCH OF LOST TIME

The world continues to turn. Today I chose merely to drag my fingers along the skin of the globe and hurry it along rather than send it reeling - sixteen assassinations conducted by T-V-Parasite Agents, two nursery rhymes implanted in Russian national consciousness with long term intent of softening anti-mutant prejudice, release of small scale gamma encephalitis bioweapon in three American states to eradicate local chapters of anti-Krakoan protest groups.

Woolf has requested a visit, regarding my archives. Suppose will entertain her.

Which body shall I wear?

As it happens, he does Tess the courtesy of receiving her in what passes for his original body these days - he's long since forgotten which of his shells is actually the original, it's probably on ice with the rest of the backups and spares and abandoned experiments dotted all through his lab like animal food caches. But this is the one he tends to revert to most.

He's taken to cultivating more - fanciful, strains of biotech and Krakoan flora, in his old age. He's perfected his weapons, his soldiers, his spies, his ears, his eyes, his tendrils, his goodie finders, and, of course, his tomatoes. So he's moved on to psychoactives now. He meets her with a deep inhale of what looks remarkably like bottled fireflies, beckoning her inside and walking her by piles of waiting Beastflesh.

Some are recognisable as simian, feline, human, macaque, others are - less so. Some look like sculptor's clay abandoned halfway through a lazy spin on the potter's wheel. The shapes they bend into are almost strange enough to make you forget it's flesh and not actually putty. A different kind of Beast meets her no matter which way she sets her eyes.

It seems he's taken the accusation of being two faced very much to heart.

His voice is a soft purr. It's soothing, in its way, as he invites her to sit in the lab which is entirely too clean and conventional to be the real one. This is his equivalent of a sitting room. Not where he does his actual work. His chest glows with Krakoan firelight. If Tess squints, she can see his lungs through the white fur of his chest, glowing and burning and turning to cinder. He isn't even sure if anyone else can take the drugs he's taken to cultivating without sending themselves straight to the resurrection queue.

Nonetheless, he does offer some to Tess, a gleam in his eyes that betrays amusement at her request. At her desire to see the infestation, the infection, whatever you wanted to call it (he had termed it a gamma-level biological oddity - worth studying, but without long term viability for his own work. Oh, the psychological impact would be stupendous, of course, but then the clean up.)

"And the rest of the island says I'm ghoulish."

Humour has returned to him, after 20 long years. The first X-Force team, long since made redundant, would tell you he was better as a humourless bastard.

So has drama. He leans back, and the Pointe responds to his whim. The lighting changes, and they're both plunged into darkness as the biological supercomputers recall the information Tess desires, sequencing liquid memory in seconds and providing it to the master of the house like it were merely a pot of tea. He holds up a vial, golden, gleaming. Inviting. Promising answers.

A liar promising truth.

"And little humans in hell want ice water. They'll sell their souls for it - what will you offer me?"

[tmmediapharma]

Thiosulfate-Citrate-Bile-Salts-Sucrose (TCBS) Agar: Culture Medium for Vibrio’s

Thiosulfate Citrate Bile Salt (TCBS) Agar is a primarily selective and differential medium for Vibrio species. It is the most common medium used to isolate, cultivate, and differentiate Vibrio species. Many Vibrio species can grow on TCBS, but primarily it is used to isolate and differentiate V. cholerae and V. parahaemolyticus from various samples such as clinical, water, food, and other materials. 

Composition of TCBS Agar

In TCBS Agar, peptone and yeast extract provide nitrogenous and carbonaceous compounds, amino acids, vitamins, and other essential growth nutrients. Thiosulfate and sodium citrate in the alkaline medium inhibit the growth of Enterobacteria, while Ox bile and sodium cholate slow the growth of Enterococci and inhibit the development of Gram-positive bacteria. Oxgall is a natural substance that is a mixture of bile salts, sodium cholate, and pure bile salt. Sucrose is a fermentable carbohydrate. Bromthymol blue and thymol blue are pH indicators. Agar is the solidifying agent. Sodium thiosulfate acts as the sulphur source. Thiosulphate and ferric citrate detect the production of hydrogen sulphide.

Principle of TCBS Agar

The fermentation of sucrose leads to acidification of the media by vibrio, turning the bromthymol blue indicator from blue to yellow even in the presence of an alkaline base. Sodium thiosulfate also serves as a sulphur source and, in combination with ferric citrate, allows the detection of hydrogen sulphide production. Sodium chloride provides optimum growth conditions for Vibrio species. Two dyes instead of one make the medium produce an array of yellow, green, or blue colonies so that differentiating among various Vibrio species is possible.

Cultural growth on TCBS Agar

Non-Vibrio bacteria that generate hydrogen sulphide produce black colonies. The black colonies are produced because hydrogen sulphide, produced from thiosulphate, combines with ferric ions from ferric citrate to produce ferric sulphide, which is black. The thiosulphate acts as a source of sulphur and creates a reduced oxygen tension. In this situation, Vibrio can grow due to its facultative anaerobic nature.

Preparation of TCBS Agar

Suspend 89.08 grams in 1000 ml of purified or distilled water. 

Heat to boiling to dissolve the medium completely. 

Do not autoclave, and cool to 45-50°C. 

Mix well and pour into sterile Petri plates.

Uses of TCBS Agar

For the isolation, cultivation, and differentiation of V. cholerae and V. parahaemolyticus species from other pathogens.

Isolation and testing of samples possibly containing vibrio pathogens, e.g., medical specimens or food products.

Detection of Vibrio in non-sterile pharmaceutical products, food, water, dairy products, etc.

TCBS single injection is also used to control the outbreak of the Crown of Thorns starfish (Acanthaster planci) which is dangerous for coral reefs.

TM Media Thiosulfate Citrate Bile Salt Agar

TM Media, being one of the best and largest producers of microbial products, provides the best Ready-to-Use Culture Media. It is the solution for all the cultural requirements of any microbial growth. The quality, specificity, sterile packing, and elite productivity of TM Media produce the best results.

The Ready-to-Use TCBS Agar Medium of TM Media is the best choice for Vibrio isolation and easy differentiation in clinical, non-clinical, microbial, pharmaceutical, or advanced research.TM Media also provides Antibiotic Sensitivity Discs, Lab Consumables such as Nichrome Loops, Disposable Swabs, Petri Plates, and many more to ensure complete control and access to progress.

[dysfunctionql]

Wet scorpion specimen preserved in formaldehyde from a past zoology lab ♡

Wish I could have gotten better pictures of the rest of the specimens as well, but the smell of the formaldehyde was DEADLY ( T v T )

[jakowskis]

ok literally rbing a 10 yr old post BUT i havent seen it talked abt elsewhere rlly - newt's side of the lab is filled with junk!!! it's like his living quarters have spilled out into the lab, and like he's using it to store a bunch of random stuff he's collected.

for starters, right behind pentecost in that screenshot, there's a shit ton of musical instruments

i spy with mein little eye

at least three guitars (altho one could be a bass)

an upright piano (with what looks like several sheet music books on it too)

a microphone???? does he put on little performances for hermann??? ("anyway here's wonderwall-" "i am trying to WORK, newton.")

a conga drum

there MIGHT be an upside down trumpet or something similar on the piano (or it could just be a weird lamp, i can't tell)

now we know newt's a musician, but the fact these things are in the lab itself, and the fact that the ppdc (but even more so, that hermann) permits these things in the lab...

there also appears to be a full sized old-fashioned looking dresser back there. and the noted picture frames - newt collects things, and he decorates. also him decorating with kaiju paraphernalia in a lab owned by an organization that fights kaiju 😭 and it's an anti-kaiju poster?? newton fhdskf

and that's not all!

there's also whole ass mannequin with a painted face in there.

also a grandfather clock & an old fashioned globe, which are both kinda hermann aesthetic lowkey actually (though he'd v likely find them superfluous). both strike me as, like, newt antique thrifting and then just?? keeping them in the lab?? but the dummy is so funny, where did he get tht?? did he paint it himself? has he named it. i bet he's named it. i bet hermann hates that damn thing.

also is that like a cat scan machine to the left? i assume kaiju specimens get put thru there. ive never had a cat scan but it's radiation isnt it? dont doctors usually step back behind smth when they take a xray? does newt just do that in the middle of the lab w no safety precautions. of course he does. sigh.

finally: there are several old-fashioned looking lamps (hermann has some cool vintage lamps on his side too; did newt pick them out for him? ohh?? gift giving as a love language, 'this made me think of you'-)

i love how much detail was put in, i wiiiish there was a dvd feature doing a proper tour of the lab or something, i wanna see all the weird shit newt's piled up

Something I noticed when re-watching this scene: on the left, there is a doorway, and next to it an anti-kaiju poster (“Destroy This Mad Brute”), and an ordinary table lamp, and what looks like some sort of framed photo, maybe…? Basically, items that are more “domestic” than what is found elsewhere in the lab.

It sort of makes it look like Newt and Hermann’s living quarters might be adjacent to the lab, not in the dormitories where the pilots are.

[woozi]

l-lab specimen??? COUNT ME IN. i mean i feel like my layout scares ppl away too much ㅠㅠ

[thetombedspirit]

The Works of Art Crew

As promised, here are my ideas for Rise!Venus, Rise!Jennika and Rise!Mona Lisa.

Venus de Magic

Venus was one of the many specimens of turtle that Baron Draxum contained in his lab. When the lab was destroyed, Venus was sadly left behind, too small and weak to save herself. When the Yokai Council heard of the lab's explosion, they sent one of their agents, a komodo dragon Yokai named Chung Chi, to examine the area.

When he arrived, he found that the lab was already being searched by Big Mama's goons for anything valuable. Two such valuables were crying mutant turtles being kept in little cat carriers. While he was able to save one, he was soon discovered and chased away before he could rescue the other.

After reporting to the Council, Chung was asked to participate in the analysis of the child. When she was deemed healthy and happy, Chung easily found himself charmed by her beauty and energy. And so he forwarded a request to the Council: to take in the child as his own daughter. The Council agreed so long as he reports to them any changes in her behaviour and development. Once everything was settled, all that was needed was a name: Mei Pieh Chi.

Okay, so, according to the wikia, Mei Pieh Chi included translations for the components of her name.

Mei can transcribe: 美: beauty

Pieh can mean: 鱉: (soft-shelled) turtle

Chi can mean: 志: energy

Now, since soft-shelled turtle is implied by the name, I'm rolling with that theme and making her a softshell turtle. Specifically a spiny softshell turtle [;)]

As Mei grew up, Chung began teaching her the magic arts and the art of Kenpo karate, a skill set that she mastered in leaps and bounds. Eventually, when there was nothing more that Chung could teach her, she began to grow tired of living in the confines of the Hidden City. Chung was always honest about her heritage, so she knew she had human DNA and, as such, was always curious about New York city and wanted to explore.

One day, Mei overheard from her father that an agent (Mayhem) still hasn't reported in from his mission. Desperate for a chance to see New York, Mei barged in and begged to have the mission. After a private discussion, Chung and the Council agreed for her to go on a 'strictly a retrieval mission' so long as she be careful and remain unseen. If there was even a hint of trouble, Chung would be there quicker the you can say "turtle shell".

Arming her with mystic tessen that allow her to project illusions, a protective cloak to shield her softshell and a identity brooch to conceal her mutant identity, Mei bid her father farewell and prepared to see the world.

Overtime, Mei eventually realised that she would need things in order to get by in this world: money and a way to earn that money. Upon seeing a street magician, Mei decided to show what she knew and immediately blew the crowd away and earn some cash. She quickly rose to stardom, bought herself a penthouse and became a magical sensation, under the stage name: Venus de Magic.

By then, it became a routine for her; Venus de Magic by day, performing for a crowd of adoring fans, and by night, Agent Mei Pieh Chi, searching for her fellow agent in the cold nights of New York. One night, she finally spotted the missing Agent, hanging out with a human girl. Seeing how happy he was, Mei held off on informing the Council until she understood the situation.

Eventually, Hypno-Potamus grew jealous of Venus’s growing fame and began attacking her shows, but always getting stopped at the last second by the Mad Dogs. Finally, on the night of her biggest show, Hypno incapacitated the Mad Dogs and was about to attack Venus, 

H - “Ready to see a real magician?”

V - *smirks* “So you wanna see real magic?”

A quick smoke trick, a couple of illusion doubles from her tessen and Mei was able to confuse and incapacitate the mutant hippo, but not before Hypno knocked off her Identity Brooch, revealing her mutant identity to the Hamato Brothers. Scared, Mei fled the scene, despite the brothers’ protests.

While the brothers went to confront their father about another mutant turtle, Mei went to her father and asked about the lab she came from. Chung admitted that the mission Mayhem was investigating was Draxum, the man who created the lab, the mutagen and, by extension, her and the turtles. This left Mei stunned, as while she always knew she was from a lab, she never thought there were over experiments like her. And when Chung let it slip that there was another turtle that was taken by crime boss, Big Mama, Mei ran away, back to the shadows of New York city, and didn’t contact her father for some time.

In terms of personality, Mei is a very energetic and starry eyed girl, always wanting to see more of the world, especially the human world of New York. Her career as a stage magician brought out the theatre kid in her, giving her an air of showmanship and flair. She enjoys her career in street or stage magic, dressing up in trendy outfits, swimming and playing the flute. She is actually Donnie’s biological twin, and once they properly acclimate themselves into a family unit, they tend to butt heads a lot, with Donnie’s scientific views conflicting with Mei’s more mystical ways. Her fighting style is also different from her siblings. She was trained in the art of Kenpo karate, though she was more in tune with her mystic training then martial arts. When she is finally accepts herself as part of the family, Splinter gifts her with a cyan bandanna, a gift she treasures and fashions to her liking, even braiding the tail ends, as she come to love having hair with her human disguise. 

2. Jennika

Like Venus before her, Jenny herself was one of the many specimens of turtle that Baron Draxum contained in his lab. When the lab was destroyed, Jennika was tragically left behind along with her sister. Big Mama was quickly informed of the lab’s destruction, and she quickly sent her goons to acquire anything of value. Jennika and Venus were pulled from the wreck and put in cages. It was then that the Yokai Council’s agent, Chung Chi, was able to rescue Venus, but sadly leaving Jennika behind when he was discovered and chased away.

When Jennika was first brought before Big Mama, she at first cared very little for her and was going to send her away, until Gus took a liking to her so she permitted him to keep her as a playmate. Overtime, as Jennika began living with them in the hotel, she quickly became the heartthrob of the hotel, getting into all sorts of mischief with Gus and the bellhops. Even Big Mama have come to genuinely care for the turtle tot and decided to officially adopt her as her daughter, finally giving her a proper name: Jennika.

Since Jennika was originally mutated by Leo’s blood transfusion in the IDW comics, I decided to have Jennika be a Slider turtle, specifically a Yellow-Bellied Slider.

Growing up with the signal most notorious crime boss and the ringleader of the  Battle Nexus, Jennika grew up with a desire to fight and prove her own strength and began teaching herself how to fight. Big Mama noticed her conviction and agreed to have the best champions of the Nexus teach her their fighting techniques. On the day that she believed that she was ready, Big Mama finally allowed her to fight in the Nexus and she won with flying colours. Overtime, Jennika became the next Nexus Champion, eventually becoming known as The Claw, for her use of Tekkō-kagi in her attacks. She came to view strength as a virtue rather then an attribute.

It remained the way for a long time, until she heard talk of four mutants and Baron Draxum attacking her mother in her own hotel. Jennika was furious and quit the Battle Nexus, instead using her skills and time to beef up security in the Hotel and becoming Big Mama’s personal assistant and bodyguard. Big Mama wasn’t too pressed with the change of career, believing that with the new enemies in the turtles, having Jennika’s focus on them could work out in her favour. Big Mama began putting it together that Jennika, the brothers and Draxum had ties with each other but kept this from Jennika.

Overtime, after the whole Shredder debacle, Jennika found herself curious of the brothers and began to do some digging on Draxum and his experiments. This investigation eventually led her to Big Mama’s previous champion of the Battle Nexus: Lou Jitsu and his own relation to the turtles. Finally tired of being in the dark, she went and got her blood tested on the central computer, and right there, it was confirmed: her DNA matched with the turtles and Splinter. When she confronted Big Mama, the spider Yokai kept nothing from her and told her the truth, about Draxum’s lab, her relation to the turtles and even her own findings on the subject. Familiar with Jennika’s honour-bound anger issues, also admitted that there was another turtle at the lab site, but she was taking away by a "crime boss”. Jennika demanded the name of said “crime boss”. Big Mama just smirked and gave it to her: “Dragon Lord“ Chung Chi. 

This would eventually lead her to watch both Chung and Splinter from afar. She was not impressed by Splinter. She felt he was leading her brothers into ruin and viewed him as a weak coward. As for Chung, she had been doing some digging and discovered that he was indeed a crime lord before Big Mama. The “Dragon Lord” was the biggest name in the criminal circuit and even more dangerous then Mama. Even to this day, his name held power and respect. But she had been unable to find out anything about her sister from watching him, especially as he begin to suspect that he was being followed. This left her scared and angry that he had done something to her. Finally, she decided to confront Chung, just as he got off the Mystic Mirror with his daughter. While he was easily able to defeat her, Jennika was able to get a couple of shots on him. Eventually, Venus arrived and immediately rushed to her father’s side, distraught at the scars and blood. Jenny was stunned and hurt as she realised that her sister, her sister, genuinely cared about the Komodo Dragon Yokai, just as the brother probably cared for Splinter, and that Chung was not the criminal he once was. Ashamed of her actions and reeling from the fact that Big Mama used her emotions against her, she left and didn’t return to the Hotel, instead sending herself to the streets. It is not until Venus seeks her out herself that she finds it in herself to overcome her shame. The two got to talking and Venus invited her back to her penthouse to stay.

Jennika has a high sense of responsibility and maturity. She has a tough girl persona, putting herself off as harsh and cold but is really sweet and caring once you get to know her, especially towards little kids. When she discovered that she was related to the brothers and Venus, she only had their best interests in heart. She has a lot of anger issues and tends to dive in without thinking. Her fighting style is more akin to a athletic gladiator until she took up Kenpo karate under Chung Chi. She is also a big fan of heavy metal music. She has the fashion style of a punk rocker and the attitude to match. She doesn’t quite trust Splinter, and is a bit uncomfortable with his past history with Big Mama, but tolerates him for the sake of Venus and her brothers, mainly Mikey, who she’s come to be extremely protective towards. In fact, it would be Mikey that would give her a yellow bandanna to match with the rest of the family, leaving her touched.

3. Mona Lisa

Unlike the other girls, Lisa was originally human and lived a happy life as Alyssa Gonzalez, a major in art and physics and a straight A+ student on her way to collage. It would be during a class trip to the zoo, wherein she was near the Asian water monitor lizard habitat, she is approached by the school heartthrob  who asked her to be his date for the school dance next month. So overwhelmed by excitement and about to say yes, she doesn’t notice an Oozzqitoe flying towards her and stinging her. And just like that, the whole situation goes wrong. Turning into an 7′ foot tall lizard, the boy freaked out, proclaiming that there was a monster in the zoo and ran away. Everyone, caught up in their own terror, ignored Lisa’s cries as she stumbled and struggling to manoeuvre in her new body, leading people to believe she was lunging and attacking people. Heartbroken and confused, she ran away until she found herself in the Museum of Art and Framing, desperate to find a place to hide from the police. She eventually found a secret way into the basement of the museum, hiding behind an imitation piece of the Mona Lisa.

Lisa begins to go on a bit of soul searching, finding solace and clarity in the darkness of the museum, away from human society. She decides that she can’t sit around and wait for miracles to happens and begins to research what could have changed her. Building a secret lab in the basement, she begins looking into the mutagen by taking her own blood samples into account, also discovering the monitor lizard DNA now in her bloodstream. Her studies eventually lead her to the Hidden City, opening her up to more opportunities to research her condition.

As previously explained, the last creature Lisa was in contact with was an Asian Water Monitor Lizard, and I figure that Mona Lisa could sorta be a play on words for “Monitor Lizard”. And I really wanted to make her taller then Raph, so I went with the biggest monitor lizard on the block.

Lisa is very intelligent young girl and was a straight A+ student before her mutation. She didn’t have a lot of friends, but she always desired to have a bigger social footprint, especially with the cute boys at school. When she mutated, she really struggled with her new size and strength, becoming quite clumsy. Even when she got used to her body, she’s still tripping over everything, objects, her feet, her tail, everything (something a certain snapping turtle will find absolutely adorable). She has a keen eye for art and science, more specifically, physics. She has also found herself to be tremendously strong, even when she doesn’t want to be, though she finds this a massive advantage. Not trains in martial arts or magic like her friends, her fighting style normally consists of her powerful kicks and tail swings (and eventually, a ray gun). Another discovery she made was when she panics or sheds her scales, she goes into a Berserker-like rampage where she looses herself to a more savage side (again, something a certain snapper finds absolutely breathtaking - I’MMA MAKE RAPH A SIMP OKAY?!?!, BITE ME!)

Sadly, Lisa could remain hidden forever, especially when Earth Protection Forces get involved as mutant become more prominent and active. In her attempts to get away, she accidentally bumps into a disguised Mei and Jennika, the latter immediately assuming they’re being attacked. Lisa tries to explain, but with Jenny on one side and the EPF on the other, she flies into her Beserker rage and breaks everything in her wake before fleeing the scene. Her behaviour leaves Mei baffled and she insists that they follow her and make sure she’s okay. Meanwhile, Lisa, still in her blind fury, eventually runs into the Hamato brothers and they pick a fight with her too, getting their tails kicks by her savage strength. It isn’t until Donnie notices an EPF shock dart and her screams “LEAVE LISA ALONE!” that Leo compares it with Savage Raph and figures she’s just freaking out because she’s been chased all day by EPF only to be attacked by them. Feeling bad, Raph makes the first move and is able to calm her down until she’s back to her old self. They’re sort of caught up in the moment, until they are spotted by the EPF helicopter and they’re forced to scatter, Raph sticking by Lisa’s side until he’s sure she’s safe. He leads her to a sewer line that should get her somewhere safe, and she kisses his cheek in thanks, nearly making him faint before he remembered he had to hide too.

She wanders like that for a while, until she finally runs into Mei and Jenny. She tries to hide behind mounds of garbage before Mei steps forth and speaks softly, apologises for how they reacted earlier, before admitting that they are mutants too, removing their Identity Brooches and showing themselves. Relieved and fascinated by the presence of even more mutants, Lisa introduces herself and follows them to Mei’s penthouse. After they bring her up to speed on the origins of the Oozesquitoes, the situation with Draxum and that the turtles she met were in fact their brothers. Mei offered Lisa her home for as long as she liked and Jenny apologised for the way she acted when they met, which Lisa excepted happily, just glad to finally not be alone. Living with the sisters eventually led her to meet with Mei’s father Chung Chi, and to become briefly acquainted with Jennika’s former boss and mother, Big Mama.

Lisa is very cheerful and kind, but has trouble associating with people, especially after her mutation. As the only girl that was human before she was mutant, she has the most knowledge of the human world and how it works. On the side of their adventures, she researches the mutagen and tries to find ways to make a cure. In addition to being a physics and arts major, she is also quite the romantic and used to hope of being swept off her feet, she has sort of put those things behind her, as she doesn’t believe that a mutant like herself is now beyond those kinds of things like romance and scholarships. She’s more about comfort over function when it comes to attire, dressing up in comfy pink sweaters and slacks (though she had to upside when he mutated) though she is not opposed to dressing up if the situation calls for it (like, say, a date). She gets along pretty well with the Mad Dogs, but she often finds herself gravitating towards Raph the most, much to his fluster and much to his brothers’ amusement, watching him stumble over a pretty girl. While on a “outing” in the Hidden City, Raph noticed an amazing pink scarf in the market and bought it for her, much to her delight.

4. How they become the Works of Art Crew

Overtime, as the girls came to live together in Mei’s penthouse, they hear a lot of news about EPF and how they’ve been rounding up any stray mutants they find, innocent or otherwise. Mei becomes disheartened by the animosity being shown to mutants and decides she can’t sit idly by as innocent people are being abused for something completely out of their control. She speaks with the girls about this, and while Jennika is sceptical they can make a difference, they agree that they can’t just let EPF walk all over everyone and develop a plan.

Lisa brings out a blueprint of their facility, showcasing the containment cells where they’re keeping the mutants and the laboratories, where they are experimenting on them. They pinpoint all the weaker entry points and exits and prepare for infiltration. During this, Lisa suggested code names. Mei gets excited by the prospect, while Jennika is less then delighted but agrees that using a code name would be a good idea. Lisa proposed a few ideas.

L - I was thinking Mona Lisa for my code name. Get it? Like “Monitor Lizard”? “Mona Lisa”?

J - Isn’t that a bad idea putting your name in your code name?

L - My name’s Alyssa. And there are a lot of Lisa’s in the world.

M - Well, I already have Venus de Magic. Maybe Venus will work here.

L - Oooo! I love it! Jenny! How about you?

J - I-I don’t...

L - If I may, these nicknames give me an idea and can I make a proposal?

J - *sigh* sure. What?

L - Artemisia. She was the most controversial female Renascence artist in history. And one of her pieces was a self portrait, known as Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting.

M - Catchy name.

L - Anyway, since me and Mei are named after works of art, I figure it makes sense for what I have for our crew name!

J - “Crew name”?

L - Yeah! I’m thinking... the “Works of Art” Crew.

M - ...

J - ...

L - You hate it :’(

M - I LOVE IT!

J - *sigh* it’s alright.

L - :D

J - And “Artemisia”... I like it.

L - YAY! *hugs Jenny, who accepts her fate*

M - WORKS OF ART CREW!!! *jumps in the air and tackles them to the floor*

After their meeting, they sneak into the EPF without much trouble, but their cover in inevitably blown and they’re forced to fight. For a moment, it seems like they’re about to loose, before Jenny releases all the mutant inmates and they all team up to overpower EPF and wreck the place. With the mutants scattered and free, the girls leave, but not before they have a confrontation with the leader of the EPF, Agent John Bishop.

The night considered a success, the girls decide to go to the Run of the Mill Pizzeria to celebrate, calling a toast to the Works of Art Crew! In the next stall, the brothers are there too and they don’t even realise or understand what they did.

So that’s how I envision the girls in ROTTMNT and how they come together and become a team. Let me know what you think, I might make this a story on my ao3 page.

bye!

[glowingbadger]

Inspired by this video, and out of a desire for something fun and stupid to do in the midst of the avalanche of work and responsibilities that is my day-to-day existence, I have decided to rate a bunch of common fanfic phrases. No one asked for this, but you're getting it anyway.

And hey, if there are any other writers who follow me, I'd love to hear others' ratings on any of these as well.

Some are spicy as a heads up, so 18+ just to be safe V

"tongues battling for dominance" - 4/10, not my least favorite in the world, but definitely been around for so long that it's lost impact. I understand that the original intent was to evoke a sort of combative intensity between the lovers, but now I can only think of it as like, two of those inflatable tube guys slapping each other around

"Scrambling for purchase" - 7/10, totally fine when not overused, there are enough variations on this phrase that I think we're at an okay place with it for now.

"[adjective] orbs," in reference to eyes - 2/10, literally there are so many better ways to talk about eyes that don't make me think of the eyeball separated from the body and floating in space. This is what I mean when I say that every word that exists has connotations and evokes something beyond its literal definition.

"the younger male..." "the shorter man..." - 1/10, this phrasing is very clinical and separates the viewer from the character by discussing them like a specimen in a lab. It only gets one point from me because I have been veeeeery close to falling into this from time to time because it is very difficult to talk about two same-gendered, roughly same-aged people using only pronouns and their names to indicate them. But people who use this way of referring to people frequently tend to overuse it, and then it becomes incredibly obnoxious. Incessantly referring to someone by their hair color is more understandable, but still irritating when overused.

"hard as steel," "soft as silk," etc - 8/10, I really don't mind it, though similes can become distracting if you keep piling them on until we have this image of some homunculus with tree-trunk limbs and a barrel torso and steel rod penis and waterfall hair and so on and so forth.

"Letting go a breath they didn't know they were holding" - 6/10, it's a dumb cliche, but I understand why people use it. Just give it a bit more time to imagine the moment and I think you'll find a more creative and evocative way to get the same idea across.

"___ toed off their shoes" - 8/10, I haven't actually seen this used that much? It's fine though, gets across a very specific and nice image, like the details of how people put their shoes on and off in Ghibli movies.

"Can I kiss you?" - 10/10, flawless, stunning, superb, we stan clear and direct consent. Plus, I have used this on dudes IRL to great success- a lot of guys are weak for a direct and straightforward proposition lmao.

Licking someone's lips to "ask for entrance" - 0/10, nobody fucking kisses like that, this is one of the clearest signs of an inexperienced person writing smut. Really pay attention to how you kiss, or how actors do it on screen. No one pauses to knock on the door and then open it- the mouths just tend to open naturally as things escalate. When people kiss, they can feel the tensing of each other's mouth muscles enough to anticipate roughly where things are going.

"[hair color]-ette" - -2/10, fuck this entirely. "Ette" isn't even a common suffix for describing hair color IRL, literally only brown-haired people are referred to this way, so I don't understand why fanfic writers have turned it into a template.

"carding fingers through their hair" - 7/10, pretty good, no complaints here, it gets across a nice, intimate motion that's nice to envision.

"mewl" - 5/10, a slightly odd choice when we already have moan, whine, whimper, sigh, and several other tone-appropriate choices, but not a big issue for me.

"smirking" - 8/10, I don't care if it's cliche, smirking is hot, fuck you

"keen" - -5/10, my least favorite by a huge margin, largely because when I noticed it was being used a lot, I looked it up and the strict definition is more like "mournful wailing at a personal loss," so this conjures the image of tickling a guys prostate and causing him to cry out in anguish for the deceased. I know language is flexible, but I will perish before I use this word in an erotic context lmao

"globes," referencing boobs or butt - 2/10, I get it, but no. Same issues as "orbs" above.

"blushing" - 9/10, don't make it the only reaction a character ever has, but over all, super cute, love it, practically essential tbh

"locks" referencing hair - 6/10, no complaints if it fits the tone of the writing over all.

"ministrations" - 2/10, yeah, I'm kinda done with this one tbh. I have legit used this in older writings, but I found it was a bit too much of a "smut dogwhistle" for my tastes lmao, like, when was the last time you heard ANYONE use this word in any non-smut context. Kinda seems like just whipping out an SAT word to sound fancy.

"Oh. Oh." - 9/10, pretty cute when used properly, and I have actually witnessed reactions like this IRL, so it's not overly gimmicky.

"[character] smelled like ___. ___. and something uniquely [character]" - 4/10, I get why we do this, and I have definitely used it in the past (I can honestly think of a couple examples), but I think we need to be a little more subtle and brief when it comes to scents. Smell has been called the most evocative sense, and humans have a lot of quick and subconscious responses to it, so over-writing it like this feels clunky.

Referring to siblings as "bro" and "sis" - 1/10, awful, I have a brother and sister and not once have I uttered these words at them. A sure tell that the author is an only child.

"Peppering kisses" - 9/10, it's cute, it creates a specific and pleasant image, I'm into it.

"Pregnant pauses" - 6/10. I don't see this much in fanfic, but I don't mind it. But I could see this bothering someone a lot more if they're less comfy with pregnancy as a concept and topic

"___'s heart skipped a beat," - 7/10, totally fine, just don't overuse it, it becomes pretty conspicuous pretty fast, and there are definitely other ways to express this feeling

Beginning the story by describing the weather - 4/10, only acceptable if the weather is the most important thing about getting the reader into the proper mindset. Plenty of famous novels do it, but they do it with intention.

"pillowy lips" - 2/10, no

"digits," referencing fingers - 8/10, totally usable when it fits the tone, I know I've used this one plenty

typed-out stuttering, "b-b-baka!" - 0/10, this is not how stuttering works, I'm begging you to go speak to a human. My fiance has a noticeable stutter, and it's way more common you get "stuck" on a word or full syllable, then shake yourself out of it and continue.

Euphemisms for naughty bits: member - 10/10, I use it practically interchangeably with 'cock,' but really just to avoid word overuse lmao length - 7/10, fine to use, but not as flexible as 'cock' or 'member,' makes me think more of the shaft part specifically manhood - 7/10, good to use once as a 'higher-impact' word to put a really firm emphasis on size and masculinity, but don't overuse rod - 4/10, not my favorite, but doesn't enrage me organ - 0/10, sounds gory sword - 1/10, goofy and kind of childish weeping erection - 3/10, 'weeping' is the main issue here, I'd rather use 'drooling' or 'leaking,' and even those can overstay their welcome mound - 4/10, I get what it's going for, but it makes me think of a mountain rising up from someone's crotch clamshell - -2/10, what are you doing, I do not want to jerk off to sea creatures folds - 6/10, serviceable when not overused heat - 7/10, also a fine option, if not very specific tunnel/channel/canal - 0/10, I have no desire to excavate my sexual partners flower - 2/10, sounds like the 'nice guy' way of referring to a vagina

[wing-ed-thing]

Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, Part V)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 2,799

Warnings/Tags: Physical Bullying, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Threat of Kidnapping/Attempted Kidnapping, Foul Language, Derogatory Language, Fem!Reader, Would y’all classify pining as angst?@tiktoktheclockisticking​ 

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: This chapter is fairly violent. Nothing’s gory it’s just violent so please be warned. I kept it as vague as I could while still getting the point across. 

If you’re dissatisfied with what you’ve had in the past, you can just find other things and just add them to yourself from here on out.

Kabuto never had much to begin with, nothing he could truly call his. And even then, they were, for the most part, gifts. His glasses were a gift. His first name was a gift as was his last name. Much like an equation, Kabuto could always simply add and he always knew some semblance of the outcome.

But now there was you and Kabuto once again found himself unsure. He remained on the very edge of your bed all night, almost afraid to sit comfortably. He shook his leg anxiously, wired by the lack of sleep. Kabuto plus you. He didn’t know the answer. To add you meant to subtract other things. He had gotten used to those other things. And now, he was unsure if they even fit in the first place. Kabuto thought that maybe by the time morning came he would know, but dawn was just beginning to break. And much to his dismay, he found himself just as unsure as when night enveloped the sky.

You loved him. No one had ever told Kabuto that in his life. You loved him, and for what? He didn’t think he did a lot for you. He lounged on your furniture. He read your books and liked to make you flustered. Kabuto dared to gaze down at your unconscious form. His hand ghosted the outline of yours underneath the covers. He bit his lip. He liked being here. He liked to read with you. He loved your smile when you cooked together, when you read the comic section of the paper, when you stayed up late to talk… But was a life with you something he deserved? He didn’t think so.

You began to stir. Kabuto weaved a few hand signs. He didn’t even look as his palm made careful, yet swift, contact with your forehead. He couldn’t. Kabuto buried his face in his hands. He bought just a bit more time to think. Just a bit more time. Just a bit more time.

And by the time you woke up, you woke up with a start. You jumped, gasping as the blanket flew off of you. You glanced wildly around the room. Kabuto was nowhere to be found. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Kabuto had been wrong. The morning was here and you didn’t feel better.

***

You had plenty of time in your career as a ninja to properly map out the Hokage building. But even still, you never did and found yourself, per usual, lost. The halls looked the same for the most part. The rooms still went by the same number system used back with the first Hokage. And really, you didn’t have the mental energy to figure it out, not today. Despite the amount of alcohol you had last night, you could remember what happened vividly. Iruka, the good time you had, your teammates, and the burning humiliation. Kabuto. You wouldn’t have been here if you could help it.

You let out a sigh of relief halfway up the stairs as you spotted the sign at the top. You were almost on the right floor. Swinging open the door with a heave, you were met with the administrative assistant. You followed the curve of the hallway with your eyes. You could see the door to the Hokage’s door. The administrative assistant paid you little to no mind, sitting quietly behind his large, cluttered desk. You approached, tense.

“Hi, uh, I’ve been summoned?” You peeped. He didn’t look up from his work. You opened your mouth, then closed it. More silence. You tried again “I was summoned by L—” His head snapped up in annoyance and rolled his eyes.

“Name?” He asked forcefully, lugging a large book out from underneath a stack of others. You told him your name quietly and anxiously. The assistant stopped and let out a vexed grunt. You stood completely still, tense. You folded your hands neatly in front of you. He slammed the book back on the pile he got it from, causing you to jump, and instead began to rifle through one of his drawers.

“This is for you.” He held a small envelope to you. You stared for a second at the small rectangle confused before the assistant began to shake it. You apparently did not take the document quickly enough. The assistant turned straight back to his work. Confused, you opened the letter. You scanned the page, eyes widening in shock as you glanced up.

“Under investigation?” You gasped, the notice shaking in your hands. “A-And I’m suspended? For how long?” As if you didn’t have enough to deal with today.

“I don’t know, okay?” The assistant huffed. “All I know is that you’re not seeing the Hokage today.”

You had so many questions, but knowing that none of them were going to be answered, you left. And as you departed from the Hokage building, you were completely unaware that you were being stalked from the shadows.

***

Kabuto was running on fumes. Too wired to sleep, too tired to think. He felt the need to do something, so once again, he found himself in the lab. But after looking over his selection of possible specimens to study, Kabuto quickly decided that creating plans for experiments required much more effort than he had in him. He turned to cleaning and reorganization, a simple and mindless task. He had already made his way from the main laboratory to a few minor storage closets to yet more old exam rooms. Kabuto always took pride in a clean workspace, though Orochimaru had never been as dedicated.

Once again, his thoughts returned to you and he restrained himself from physically hitting his head against the nearest hard surface. He adjusted the gloves on his hands and picked up a labeled bin. Kabuto couldn’t help but wonder about what you were doing right now or if you had forgiven him. He knew perfectly well from day one that he had grown completely attached, but never had he expected for things to turn out like this. Kabuto stacked the bin with a few others in a corner of the extensive space. He leaned against the wall with a sigh, silently defying his better judgement by asking himself if you were truly happy in the Leaf. Helplessness washed over him. Yet another thing he didn’t know. He hated that feeling.

Kabuto slammed his fist against the wall next to him and a hollow reverberation echoed through the room. He blinked at the space under his wrist, giving it another strike. He turned to fully face the panel, hands spread across the cold surface. Kabuto tapped at it, shifting to his left and right to find where his tapping felt solid and where it felt empty. But with a few hand signs in the right spot, the wall disappeared to reveal a small back room.

Kabuto wandered in, kunai drawn. In the center of the room sat a lone examination table, straps sewn to the sides. Papers lay strewn around. A few vials were randomly shoved onto makeshift shelves. A chakra test kit sat at the foot of the table. Kabuto spotted a file under the single lamp that swung from the bare ceiling. Flicking it open, he found what he dreaded most. He felt a presence at the doorway. Kabuto’s shoulders dropped.

“I thought we weren’t going to pursue the girl.” He tried to make his voice as emotionless as he could. Anyone else and he would have been convincing.

“I put a lot of effort into safeguarding this room, you know.” Kabuto scoffed.

“Well, what can I say, Lord Orochimaru, you taught me well.” He turned to face the Sanin. Orochimaru stood, leaning against the doorframe. “I must say that I’m surprised. There never has been a whole lot you’ve kept from me.”

“Sure there has,” Orochimaru laughed, a certain amount of bite in his tone. “And you’ve been far too invested. I had to take things into my own hands.”

A pause. Kabuto stared at his mentor and a life changing choice stared back. All of his previous thoughts confronted him at once and he quickly came to a realization. He was out of time. For the whole day he had been putting off his decision by staying up all night, by avoiding strenuous work. But now, he stared the embodiment of his questions in the face.

“She’s protected in the village and well loved,” A lie, but one Kabuto tried his best to convince himself of. “She wouldn’t be an interesting test subject anyway.” Orochimaru frowned, eyes half lidded.

“Kabuto, your girlfriend leveled the entire eastside base.”

Kabuto did remember. He remembered the ambush at the base. How regretfully your team of Leaf shinobi had gotten the better of him. He remembered waking up without a scratch in a mile-wide crater, your body half flung over his torso. The underground base had been completely excavated and decimated to smithereens. The laboratories were gone. The many rooms and hallways were gone. All that remained were the two of you. And that’s how Kabuto Yakushi met you.

“She gave you what you wanted in exchange for the scroll.” The kunai in his hand hung by the loop on his finger, but not put away. He methodically fiddled with it’s handle.

“A few tests for a fake scroll is a measly trade,” Orochimaru rolled his eyes, though the mischief in them wasn’t lost. “Nothing I did warranted what you gave her.”

“I just gave her what you promised.” Kabuto narrowed his eyes, “So why does it look like you’re going to perform an extraction? She’s not even here.”

“And that, Kabuto, is where you’re wrong.”

***

You took your usual shortcut home. You could always tell how close you were by the number of trees. The Hokage building had always been around the epicenter of all the bustle in Konoha, and for good reason. But most of the time, you enjoyed a break from the intensity of ninja life and settle into your apartment near the outskirts of town. You cut through a thick patch of trees. A trail had been beaten into the ground long ago. The area felt like a park and served to remind you of the scenery just outside of the village. But you couldn’t enjoy your walk this time. You sensed a presence.

You began to walk faster and that was when four figures jumped out at you from the treetops. Their hitai-ate gleamed in the interrupted lighting. Sound ninja. You immediately disappeared, a jutsu you no longer needed hand signs for, and camouflaged into the scenery around you. But despite your fast-moving efforts, you were still grabbed and thrown to the ground. Your fragile jutsu broke, but you scrambled up quickly, kunai in hand. You turned on your heel, lowered in a defensive position.

“Please go away,” You nearly whimpered, “I’ve had such a rough week. Try again next week!” You argued as if that mattered to your band of attackers.

“Lord Orochimaru has explicitly expressed that we are not to leave without you.” As the words left his lips, you couldn’t help but wonder if this had been Kabuto’s doing. Though, if he had wanted to abduct you, he could have done so last night and perhaps that wouldn’t have been so bad. But you didn’t have enough time to wonder. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a volley of projectiles. You leaped to the ground, arms coming to wrap over your head.

An uproar above you. Weapons clashing and pained cries. Your head stayed down. And as the bodies of your old problem hit the ground, you heard the voice of your new problem.

“I knew you were a traitor.”

***

Kabuto refrained from gritting his teeth.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Orochimaru only smirked smugly.

“A healing chakra that can pack the power of lightning and you wonder what we can do with that?” The Sannin shrugged. “We don’t know if it’s a kekkei genkai. Perhaps a new breed of ninja but that kind of power could do many things. One could even say—” He met Kabuto’s eyes, antagonism built up and glittering in his own, —“that power could restart a heart. With enough control, that is.” Kabuto moved forward to walk back out through the doorway, but Orochimaru blocked his path.

“What is it, Lord Orochimaru?” He asked with as much restraint he could muster.

“You’re not planning to go to her are you? She’ll be here any minute.” Kabuto hesitated and for once told a most vulnerable truth.

“I really don’t know what I’m going to do.” And he was allowed to pass.

***

“Thank you for saving me!” You scrambled up to your feet, eyes wide and on the fallen bodies of your attackers. But before any of the situation could process you heard a shout of warning.

“Don’t you come any closer, Sound ninja bitch!” The kunoichi from your team stood in front of you, weapon pointed in your direction. Your head turned towards her, confused and surprised.

“What?”

“I said don’t come any closer!” You held your hands up, truly not wanting any trouble. The patch of forest didn’t dare to make a sound and neither did you. Your teammate circled you, coming closer with every circulation. Her stance never faltered. “I knew you were a lying rat from the very beginning. We all did.”

“I think there’s been a misun—”

“Keep your fucking hands up!” You listened, spreading your palms to the air. Your neck scrunched downward into your collar as you flinched. “You’re pretty fucking dumb to meet with your buddies in the open like this, even if you are close to village limits.” You kept your lips folded in a thin line. The kunoichi snarled at you. “Pick up your kunai.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” You expressed with a certain amount of reluctance and your response only served to further anger her. She sheathed her weapon and shoved you to the ground.

“What? You think you’re better than me, you sellout?” She grabbed your hair, forcing you to meet her eye. Her hand crossed right across your cheek, the sting prickling on your skin. Even so, you refused to fight a comrade. “When the others get here we’re going to take care of you—” She continued to whale on you with her fists. Your nose began to bleed. —“And we’re going to take care of that boytoy of yours too!”

And as you bled, all you could mewl was, “Please stop.” You felt a warmth spreading over your face and an uncomfortable mending. The kunoichi stared down in disgust from her vantage over you. A blue aura spread across your skin, not of your own control.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” She landed another blow to your face, her fist coming in direct contact with the blue air. A spark of chakra and she recoiled her hand with a growl. “You think you’re going to shock me? You think you’re going to hurt me with some weak ass lightning jutsu. Show me some respect and fight me like a ninja!” She punctuated each word with a strike. You sat up quickly only to be pushed back down. “Oh you finally got some fight in you, traitor?” She repeated the name like a mantra.

She didn’t notice how you had stopped bleeding or how the energy around you began to violently fluctuate. You had become completely resigned, quiet, and silently crying. You couldn’t help but wonder if you deserved this. Perhaps you shouldn’t have tried to save someone who wasn’t your own. But he turned out to be the only one who actually cared about you, unconditionally. You knew that you could never have had a happy future in the Leaf. Your heart ached for your new friends, for Iruka’s friendship, peace between shinobi nations, and for Kabuto. The tears streamed down the side of your temples but you didn’t say a word. You could feel the energy build up within you.

You tried to warn her, but one last punch and you knew it was over. The blue aura shrunk against your skin all over your body and then, in an instant, burst. An electric wave shot out from your being. The ground cracked. The trees snapped. You saw her eyes widen as the energy shot through her chest. The kunoichi looked at you, eyes wide in fear and you knew that by the time she hit the ground that she was dead.

Notes: Very dramatic, no? I didn’t know where this series was going from chapter 1. I thought maybe a slice of life but it’s taken a turn. Next chapter will be the finale! Woop woop!

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.