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muzanswaifu · 10 months

Text

Out of Options

Sugardaddy!Toji x Fem!Reader

18+

You needed money. He wanted free use. You weren't past making an exchange... until he started to get cheap. What else was a girl to do?

5k Words

Big thank you to my beta readers @mistymuichiro & @thosestarry-nights & @mrskokushibo !!!

Sfw Warnings: Sugar Daddy Toji, Sugar Baby Reader, Themes of prostitution, Angst, Bad Communication, Toxic Relationships, Creepy Old Men, Misogyny, Toxic Work Environment, Jealousy

Nsfw Warnings: Smut, Hints of Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Oral Sex (fem! receiving), Cunnilingus, Squirting

The wooden frame of the bed slammed viciously into the thin walls of the motel bedroom, the withered coat of eggshell white chipping away with the ruthless collision, likely cracking the wood as well. The hellish creaking burned into your ears, scratching at the back of your brain and preventing any chance of relaxing in the moment. You’d had a shitty day, and the fact that this wasn’t even the worst of it was almost sad.

Work was exhausting, stupid old men yelling at you all day that you couldn’t do your job and the lead physician not doing a thing to stop them. Not to mention that you were in charge of most of the side work all day, replacing the instruments and utensils, emptying trash bins, cleaning out inpatient rooms, none of which was given to any of the newer technicians. You were good at what you did. You studied hard in school, you perfected all of your residency, you had astounding references. Your only flaw? Your gender. You were one of the only females in your department - hell - in the entire building. Most either quit or moved to different hospitals, entirely due to the terrible environment. None of your peers or superiors or inferiors respected you. You were always stuck with the dirty, side work while the others got to do what your job actually entailed, and the rare occurrences when you did get the opportunity to work with patients, they were always abusive to you. It was hell.

But what other choice did you have?

All the other openings at other hospitals were either filled or about to be. No other fields or retail jobs made enough pay. You didn’t have near enough money or grounds to seek out legal help. You were stuck. You were desperate for money. You were out of options.

You had family to take care of - two brothers, a sister, your mother. Dad died years ago in a car accident. Mom was already working overtime with two jobs, barely making ends meet. Rent, insurance, taxes, student loans, car payments, groceries, clothing, hospital bills, schooling, existing. It all cost money. So much money. It felt like you were suffocating. You were out of options.

Finally the creaking stopped. You back was already sore beyond belief and your legs numb. Your knees were probably bruised, too. Damn, you could go for some marble cheesecake right now. Your nose scrunched as you smelt the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, you lungs burning from the second hand nicotine.

“Here.”

A wad of cash fell across your back, the paper crunchy and bent. You groaned as you rose up, stretching your back out and hissing at how tight you were. How much was ibuprofen again?

You flicked through the money, your brow furrowing when you shuffled across the last layer.

“This isn’t enough,” you countered.

The end of his cigarette burned gold. He stood in front of the window, brushing away the curtain to peer outside as he took a drawl. He was still naked and didn’t seem in a rush to dress himself.

“It’d be more if ya didn’t make me wear a condom.”

You scowled but kept silent, fidgeting at the sides of your panties where he tied the damn things. The latex was knotted tight with each used rubber, five in total today. It’d be easier to just throw the whole pair away.

He took another hit.

“Won’t make our date on Saturday,” he mumbled, “got plans.”

You were already redressing yourself, desperate to get out of there and get going. Shower. Eat. Jerk off. Go to sleep. There were only so many hours in a day and you still had work in the morning.

You sighed, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He chuckled softly to himself. “How’s work.”

“Bye, Toji.”

The store wasn’t all that crowded surprisingly. It was Thursday afternoon, but people tended to not follow norms around here when it came to scheduling. They were out of marble cheesecake so you had to get turtle. It was too sweet in your opinion.

Everyone was asleep when you got home, but you were grateful for the privacy. Mom was still at work.

You locked your door and ruffled through your bottom drawer, fetching out your vibrator. The fan in your room was loud so nobody could hear it anyway. God, you were tired.

You never thought of anything particular when you were trying to get off, it honestly depended on the day. Sometimes you thought about getting eaten out slowly by a fireplace. Sometimes you thought about getting dicked down in a dark alley. No matter the scenario, there was only one similarity. You never imagined anyone in particular. You couldn’t put a face to the man. He was big, muscular, strong. You felt safe yet thrilled underneath him. But you couldn’t see him, if that made any sense.

Your sex drive had always been high. Ever since puberty you were antsy and pent up, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to date. Your first boyfriend was overwhelmed with how needy you were, and the moment you sensed his rejection, your attraction to him plummeted. You needed to feel secure before you felt horny. Were you demisexual? Maybe. You weren’t sure and hardly had time to find yourself.

You tried to find another partner again in your third year of college. There was a party at a local bar, and your friends hyped you up to go. You were both drunk, him more than you. He had whiskey dick. You didn’t feel comfortable. You left relatively quickly after calling him an uber. Failed again.

You didn’t try again after that.

You were fine keeping to yourself. You had your own assortment of toys awaiting you in your room. And work only solidified your hatred of the male species. You likely would’ve remained celibate forever if you hadn’t run into Toji.

You had just gotten off work, walking through the subway to catch the next train. Your engine was busted so your car was in the shop. Not many people were around, and the ones that were left after a while since it was taking too long. But you were too tired to walk so you stayed. The sketchy figures in the back didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. Finally the train came and you got on, only about six people onboard. The man a couple feet down on the bench smelt like burnt flesh. He had a cigar in his mouth despite the no smoking sign. Whatever, it wasn’t any of your business. Your left side was occupied, surprisingly, despite the abundance of free seats. This man was close, too close. Two others gathered in front of you.

“Where ya headed to baby?

“Yeah, yeah, you need some company?“

“We’ll treat ya real nice.”

You tried to ignore their taunts, keeping your eyes down and trying to appear as small as possible. You immediately noticed when a knife was drawn.

“We’re tryna talk to you, bitch.”

The blade nicked the bottom of your jaw, your blood running cold.

“Yer makin’ too much ruckus over there.”

Everyone slowly turned to look at who spoke. The man looked without a care in the world.

“Didn’t fuckin’ ask you, now did I old man?” The knife was now pointed to him.

He drew a long sigh and took out his blunt, pressing the lit end into the seat, the plastic screaming in agony.

You don’t really remember the rest of the conversation. Everything was a blur. Words were said. Punches were thrown. Bones were shattered. The man with the cigarette hardly got up from his seat, really. The next thing you knew he was sat back down and the others were lying on the floor, knocked out. You shifted your feet away so they didn’t get near the bodies.

Awkwardly, you tried to thank him, offer him what little you had in your pocket, mostly out of fear. You didn’t want to get on the bad side of someone who could so easily hurt people, and you didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Based on the scar that tore into his mouth, he’d seen his fair share of violence. He turned it down. You offered to buy him food. He turned it down. Medical care to clean his fists? He turned it down. You were out of options. Was there anything you could offer him? His answer still burned in your mind.

“You wanna fuck?”

The money afterward was unexpected. You woke up sore and broken, your thighs burning and covered in bruises. He was long gone, in his place a wad of cash that made your eyes bulge. Did he think you were a hooker? You weren’t sure. The sex wasn’t bad. You didn’t get off, but he obviously knew what he was doing. It felt nice. You felt safe.

Your next meeting, he found you walking the streets. Money in hand, stinking of booze. Wagging a room key in your face and giving you an address to go to if you need some money. Maybe he thought you were someone else. You didn’t care. You needed money and didn’t mind the sex. You were always wet enough to be comfortable for a decent amount of time, but it would hurt more after each round. You wish he didn’t last so long. Or for so many rounds. You wondered if he was even human. More money.

You had a couple rules for your… relationship. No kissing. No oral (for either of you). No raw contact or cumming on your body. No telling. You didn’t need a reputation.

He paid based on what he felt like paying you, but he was never stingy so you didn’t mind. Until lately.

He wasn’t paying as much as he used to. He didn’t seem to be enjoying himself as much. Maybe he was getting bored. You were worried.

You needed the money. You always needed money. And this wasn’t paying like it used to. It was a hard pill to swallow, but you knew what you had to do.

You needed another outlet.

It was going to be hard to find one. You were essentially selling your body, but you still had standards. You refused to sleep with anyone who you didn’t find attractive, anyone who was married, anyone dangerous. Your work was cut out for you.

And since you were now free on Saturday, you would go out then.

You put your siblings to bed early, double checking with mom that she’d be out until early morning. You dressed nice but not too nice. Hot but not too hot. It was a fine line you were walking, and you absolutely were not going to cross it.

The bar in the popular part of the city was going to be the number one spot for rich bachelors. You never went there yourself because it was so expensive and uptight, but you were looking to get drinks anyway. You didn’t have to wait long before you had a drink in front of you, courtesy of a gentleman sitting in a booth in the back. He was too old for you but you smiled at him. The others came quickly. You had the bartender sneak most of them into the sink. You couldn’t get drunk and most of these men you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. It was starting to get late. You didn’t spot anyone worth your while.

“This seat taken?”

You whipped around to your right, surprised to see a young man - no - someone your age in here. Not to mention attractive. You shook your head, trying to cover your own shock.

“Not a lot of… not… old guys in here, am I right?” He laughed, nodding toward the tables of older gentleman. Most were fifty or so. You felt gross now realizing how many were staring at you.

You laughed back nervously, “Yeah…”

“What brings you here?” He asked innocently, “Not that you don’t belong here! You just look… I don’t know - uncomfortable?”

You cringed. Did you look uncomfortable?

“Yeah, sorry. Just… hanging around, I suppose,” you offered. He was too cute now. You couldn’t bring yourself to take his money even if you wanted to.

He smiled. “Same here. I thought this place was going to be fun, but there’s not a lot to do.” He looked around. “Most of these guys are talkin’ business.” Looking around yourself, you realized he was right. Most of them were meeting up with business partners whiles others were trying to make business partners. Some looked pretty shady. You were getting more nervous by the minute.

“I-I have to go,” you mumbled quickly, getting up from your seat end creeping toward the door. He was surprised. “Uh, by-”

You bumped into something, stumbling back into the bar.

“Oi, you should watch where you’r-”

You gasped.

The music got louder. The air felt heavy. His eyes looked dark.

The corners of his mouth tugged down and his eyes narrowed. Sweat condensed on your brow.

“What are you doing here?” He growled, his stature big and menacing. His green eyes bore into you sharply.

“I-I-I-”

“Hey-” The boy from before was back. “Are you okay?” He looked to Toji and frowned.

“This guy bothering you?” He asked, all too naive. You gently pushed him back. You could see Toji about to pounce.

You pushed him back a little harder when he didn’t get the hint. “No, it’s fine, man,” you told him, “just go.”

He gave you another concerned look, but left when you gave him a stern one. You felt bad. He seemed nice.

Much to your disappointment, the other man you were dealing with didn’t just vanish into thin air. You sighed. “I was just about to leave, anyway.” You tried to step past him. He didn’t let you, his wide torso stepping in front of you. His smirk made your skin crawl.

“Let’s talk.”

You weren’t given the option to deny him as he stole you away, a large fist grabbing you arm far too harshly. He pulled you through the exit, dragging you down the crowded street. Any struggle you made was met with a firm tug, his grip getting tighter and tighter. You were definitely going to bruise.

When you’d rounded lone alleyway between the buildings, he’d pressed you against the wall, the grainy texture of the brick scratching your skin.

“What the fuck was that about, huh?” He hissed, his teeth sharp and burning white.

“You fucking around? You screw any of those fuckers?” He’d never been so angry with you before. He’d never been angry with you, period. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

“N-no!” you argued, “Toji, no. What the hell - what are you doing here?” When he gave no answer, his eyes still glaring, you continued.

“You said you were busy today…”

No answer.

“I can spend my free time wherever I want.”

No. Answer. Your eyes glazed over, and you turned away from him.

“I… needed money…”

With that he seemed to let up.

“Money?” He scoffed. “This how you get money now? What the fuck happened to your job?”

“Nothing… I just needed more.” You bit your lip. “Your’s isn’t enough.”

“What do you mean mine isn’t enough?” He barked. He wrapped his hand under you jaw, his palm grasping your pulse.

“I told you I’d give you more if you let me screw you raw. Didn’t I?”

You swallowed thickly, tears clinging to your eyelashes.

You looked back at him with fear in your eyes, his hand slowly closing around your neck. His expression softened ever so slightly as he realized he was scaring you.

He released you with a huff and walked a few steps away, running a hand down his face.

“What’s the issue? STDs? Birth control? I’m clean, and I’ll get you pills-”

“No!”

He looked at you surprised. You calmed yourself down and rubbed your arms, suddenly feeling the chill of the air.

“Toji…,” you began, “we’re… not together. You have your fun, I get paid - that’s all we do.” You looked up at him softly. “I need more than what you’re giving me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You saying you don’t have fun.”

You bit your lip and looked away. He scowled. Wrong answer.

He took wide strides forward, cornering you against the wall yet again, this time with his hands on either side of your head, forcing you to face him.

“You saying you don’t love it when I fuck you? That your cunt doesn’t fuckin’ love my cock?

You frowned back at him.

“You tell me.”

His mouth thinned.

It was no secret that you didn’t come when you two fucked. It’s not like he was trying either. You always prepped yourself beforehand, lubing yourself up and stretching yourself out so he didn’t hurt you. And during your escapades, he always just pulled his dick out and got to it. He never touched you more than necessary, never tried to feel you up or grope around. His only goal was to get himself off. And you were fine with that. So long as he paid you.

His eyes looked at you softly, he almost looked guilty, but you knew him better than that. You sighed and pushed away from him.

“It’s late… I gotta go hom-”

He grabbed your wrist, squeezing tight.

You looked down at it, his hand engulfing your arm, his fingers and knuckles all too big for you. His nails dug into your skin and he pulled you back. You couldn't walk away if you wanted to. You were trapped. You wanted to push him away, you wanted to be mad, but you couldn't find it in yourself.

He leaned in, his eyes soft yet cold.

You flinched, his lips connecting with the side of your neck. He was rough, his mouth moving against your flesh in a sloppy kiss. His tongue flicked across your neck, and his teeth tugged at your skin. He was hungry. Always hungry. You pushed your free hand against him. He ignored it.

His free hand snaked up to the underside of your breast, the other dropping to your hip, his palm resting on the bone. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin where your chest spilled out. You felt conflicted.

He bit you harshly, drawing blood. Your eyes widened and you hissed.

“So that’s what this was all about, huh?” He rasped, his bottom lip resting on your skin, his breath hot.

“Little girl not cumming like she wants to?”

You pushed his face away and groaned.

“As if you’ve ever gotten me off? I’m leaving.”

You went to move, but he kept his grip tight. He grabbed the other wrist as well. He squeezed hard, forcing you to gasp. He smirked.

“You’re this stubborn you’ve forgotten how to ask for things? You had me worried there. Thought you were tryna end things for real.”

Your face flushed in anger and embarrassment. You yanked your arms away but he didn't let go. You tugged once, twice, three times - he didn't let go. You yelped as he tugged back, forcing you to stumble and fall against him. He pressed his hips against yours, his groin digging into your stomach. You grunted at the pressure, your toes curling at the contact. He was hard already, his cock throbbing against your navel.

He pinned your arms over your head, his weight forcing you up against the wall, his mouth looming over yours. You turned your head to the side. He couldn’t kiss you, that was against the rules. His hot breath fell down your cheek and neck.

He leaned in again and you turned away.

He was hungry. Always hungry.

He leaned in again. And again.

You whimpered softly and groaned. Your heart throbbed.

You swallowed thickly as he leaned in again, your chest heaving, his lips brushing against your jaw. You shook your head weakly. He huffed, a deep, almost animalistic rumble leaving his chest.

You whined and shut your eyes.

His tongue smoothed over your jawline, his hand finally letting go of you.

You placed a hand on his shoulder but didn't push him away. He was too strong, anyway.

He grunted and ran his fingers through your hair, grasping a handful and pulling your head back. You whined, the sound only encouraging him to continue, your hair tightening in his fist. He pushed his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your pelvis, the fabric of your skirt doing nothing to stop the feeling.

“C’mon sweetheart, Don’tcha wanna feel good?” He cooed.

He forced you into the wall once more, his free hand moving down to your thigh, squeezing the skin just under your knee. He pulled your leg up, wrapping it over his hip, his bulge rubbing your heat. A chuckle rose deep within his throat, and he licked at your ear.

“Ugh, Toji, stop it! You’re being annoying,” you complained, despite the thrill lacing up your spine. He laughed.

“Don’t lie,” the man crooned. “I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll be beggin’ me to fuck ya.”

Your cowered away. “Wha-” Umph.

You couldn’t finish as you we dropped onto a hard surface, a mixture of both brick and stale dirt. Looking up, dead branches and deader leaves filled your vision. The alley way had led to a smaller subsection of the street, a lone crevice in the city district that was long abandoned and withering away. Your dress was smushed into the dirt of the old dirt bowl that was in the center of the small courtyard, the tree taking root twisted and weak. It almost seemed pitifully metaphorical to your current situation.

A scheming hand slithered up your thigh, scrunching back your crinkled skirt and hiking it around your hips, your lacey g-string fully exposed.

“Fuck,” Toji moaned, licking his lips, “You were definitely looking to get fucked tonight.”

“No I wasn’t!” You countered nervously, trying to press your thighs together to hide yourself. Despite being in an abandoned area, you were still in a public space and didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Much less be here for the long duration it took him to be satisfied. But this time felt a bit different. He was taking his time, touching you more, teasing. He usually got straight to business and had his fly down by now, but instead it was you who was being undressed, his big, warm hands encompassing your thighs and groping them. He was trying to break another rule, you could feel it. He had a devious look in his eye. He smiled at you.

“How much to touch your pussy?”

You were taken aback by the question, squeezing your thighs even tighter.

“Wha- that’s off limits!”

“No, no,” he insisted, “everything’s got a price, baby. What’s yours?”

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You’d never seen him so adamant to give you pleasure, much less offer money for it. From your experience, men were hesitant to do anything besides receive, convincing themselves that woman adored pleasing them. And the rare moment when they did touch a girl, it was always careless and short-lived, the only real goal to get them wet enough to be a slippery hole. You weren’t in the mood to be disappointed.

“Thirty thousand yen? Forty?”

“Not interested.”

“More?”

“No.”

He leered.

“Three. Hundred. Thousand.”

Your eyes bulged. Mouth gaping.

“Th-thats…”

“Going once,” he announced. “Going twice!” Don’t let him get to three.

You could get a new computer with that, replace your old busted one that had lost half the keys and took fifty years to load.

“Going-”

“I’ll do it!” You gasped, defeated. “I’ll do it…”

His paws squeezed your thighs, drifting up the insides and gently prying them apart. You hardly fought him when you realized that was the only way you were going to get the money. New computer. New computer. You tried to focus on the positives.

Toji pressed his cheek into your inner thigh, kissing your skin softly. You shivered at the feeling of his soft lips brushing your flesh. He moved up your leg, placing his hands on each side of your panties and tugging them down, your skin glistening with sweat as he pulled the cloth against the curves of your flesh. He pulled your legs apart further and licked a long stripe up your skin. the wetness cold on your overheated flesh. You clenched your teeth. You were on the verge of telling him the deal was off, but his tongue brushed against your core and you could no longer find the words. He kissed and sucked at the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving marks in his wake.

Your core throbbed.

He pulled you closer to the edge of the pot, your body lying at an awkward angle, the base of your spine aching.

Toji pressed a thumb against your slit, dragging it across your folds and collecting your slick on the pad. You shuddered.

He ran the pad of his thumb across your clit, rubbing slow circles into the bundle of nerves. You gripped his hair with one hand, tugging it hard, his muffled groan tickling your core. His finger slipped between your folds, easily entering your wet hole, his finger much bigger than your own. You grunted at the intrusion, the thick digit stretching your inner walls, his knuckle pressing against your clit as he bottomed out inside of you. He wiggled his finger, stretching your walls before pumping his finger in and out of your cunt, dragging out every little noise he could from your mouth.

He pulled you closer to the edge of your seat, your legs dangling in the air as he sat between your thighs, your hands digging into the dirt beneath you for support.

His finger moved slowly within you, his eyes never leaving yours, a fire burning within his emerald eyes. You grunted when he added another finger, the feeling almost too much for you. Your noises echoed briefly throughout the courtyard, bouncing off the concrete and surrounding buildings, and you were all too aware of how loud you were being. You pulled harder on his hair as the knot in your stomach grew tighter.

But you tried to keep your composure, your body still tense with the fear of your surroundings. Any moment someone could come waltzing by, see what you two were doing, your disheveled appearance, perhaps even try to take advantage. Your alarm hindered your concentration on the pleasure.

“What’s up?” You heard, turning your eyes back down to look at him. You hadn’t realized your gaze had wandered to the opening in the walls to where the city life buzzed about. He glanced over to where you were looking.

“Ain’t nobody comin’ over here. Relax,” he mumbled, his eyes getting warm again. “I’ll protect ya. Just relax.”

Your heart throbbed at the promise, warmth enveloping your body. You hesitantly let your head fall back and sighed, dropping your shoulders. His free hand moved to the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your belly. He wanted a good view. You didn't care. You felt… safe.

His fingers picked up speed, fucking you harder as you bit your lip. His thumb moved back to your clit, rubbing circles on the swollen button. You hummed and sighed, his fingers twisting inside you. The pleasure began to build up again, boiling in your belly and tingling up your spine. And just when you got comfortable he only took it further.

Heat enveloped your clit, wet and slippery and hot like a warm bath. You gasped out, squirming around a bit and digging your nails into the roots in the ground. Looking back down, you confirmed your theory. Toji’s head was between your thighs, his mouth on your pussy and wrapped around your little bead, his fingers still working inside of you. Soft pants and whines left your mouth, your legs shaking around his head as he continued to suck at you, his tongue swirling around and prodding under the hood, leaving you slick and sensitive. Your core throbbed.

You felt a sharp pressure inside you, and then a slow stretch. You yelped. A third finger was entering you, your cunt molding around the thick digit. You writhed again, trying to ease the ache of the intrusion. His other hand rested on your belly, gently smoothing over your skin as he ate you. His head moved side to side, tongue laving over you, his hands never stopping their movements. Oh god. It felt like you going to- to-

“Ah!,” you moaned, shaking viciously and clutching at his head, holding him in place. You were melting, you were sure of it. Everything was slipping away from you, your bones, your brain, your worries. His tongue kept lashing at you, extending your pleasure and refusing to slow down. His fingers remained pressed against your sweet spot, his other hand pushing on your belly. It was all too much, you were squealing with overstimulation. It got tighter. And tighter. And tighter. Until something popped.

All the tension broke from your body, the shocking sensations melting into something warm and fuzzy. You slowly let go of everything, all tension easing away from you and allowing for complete bliss to take over. Sweet sighs and mewls left your lips, your back lying against the dirt as you caught your breath and waited for your head and pussy to stop tingling. Another whine was pulled from you when he took his fingers and mouth away from you, unraveling your legs from his head and stepping back.

“You fallin’ asleep now?” He laughed.

You pouted and groaned. “No… jus’… gimme a sec.” Your bones were like jelly, your eyelids heavy. He cackled at you and that was the push you needed to get off your ass. He looked smitten.

“Good, right?” He crooned, wiping his mouth, “Ya fuckin’ squirted on me.”

Your face got dark and you looked to your lap, embarrassed.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed about princess.” He assured, fishing out his wallet and shufflling through the bills. He took out a stack and threw it in your lap.

“It was hot.”

You groaned again and dug your face into your hands, trying to ignore his raspy laughing.

You jolted when you felt his breath on you, looking up and freezing. His eyes burned into you.

“Now next time, let’s work out this condom situation, alright?”

You gulped.

Part 2 coming eventually...

2K notes · View notes

rain0tes · 3 months

Note

No words can express how much it is doing HEHEUSVJSGSJZBWKUE to me, thank you for writing this, I shall take it and bite it

Can I request on how the other character staying in the hotel feel about the reader?

Of course you can, nonnie! I'm so glad people like hacker!reader so much 😭

How the other residents at the Hazbin Hotel feel about hacker!reader

Angel dust and you would not get along at first. His hypersexual nature puts you off, which he teases you for.

"what? can't handle a bit of teasing, sweet cheeks?"

"stay six feet away from me."

Eventually, when he does tone it down, he finds that he enjoys your company quite a bit. You're pretty down to earth, and probably the sanest resident in the hotel.

That doesn't make your conversations any less weird.

"so basically you can use 'ussy' as a suffix for anything that has a hole."

"So, like, spidussy?"

Collective groan from everyone else while you cackle uncontrollably.

Teaching sinners gen Z lingo aside, you two would get up to mischief very often (much to everyone else's annoyance). The whole "replacing every porno video with a rick roll" was actually his idea. Petty revenge!

Husk is mostly indifferent about you, up until he realizes that Alastor is interested in you in one way or another. He tries to warn you not to have anything to do with him. He would know. But then again you've never been one to be told what you can or can't do.

Annoyed when you make a deal with Alastor regardless of his warnings, but at least you didn't give up your soul(?)

You two get pretty close afterwards. Something about looking out for you since you're so impulsive.

He's the one who helps you adjust to hell, telling you about things you need to know.

Learns very quickly that once you've put your mind to something, there's no persuading you out of it.

"Husk! Let's go eat at that fancy restaurant, my treat."

"It takes months to get a reservation to that place. And neither of us can pay for it."

"I bumped our reservation for tonight. Besiiiiides, I don't think the Vee's would mind if I take a couple hundred dollars off of their account."

You're gonna get yourself killed one of these days.

He's gotta make sure to prevent it.

Vaggie does not appreciate you messing with the V's.

You try to assure her that they wouldn't find out, but she's still skeptic.

Point taken, you just hide what you're doing from her as much as you can.

She wonders if you really did stop but has a nagging feeling that you're just doing it behind closed doors instead of doing it in the hotels lobby.

"You're endangering everyone else in the hotel!"

"They're not smart enough to find out. Did you know that they have surveillance around the hotel? I can turn all of that off."

Well, so far, they really haven't found out.

But the moment you endanger anyone in the hotel, you're out.

Charlie was ecstatic the first time you came to the hotel after it had just been rebuilt. After a while of staying there, that excitement dies down as she realizes how much of a handful you are.

Still, she's glad to have you around. No one said that redeeming souls was an easy task.

Realizes way too late that you're not really interested in redemption.

Like a few months in way too late.

But at least they have a new technician? You're pretty adept with anything that works on electricity and the help is really appreciated. Especially now that they're confident they won't be spied on while you're around.

Also worried about you constantly messing with the V's, but she's more worried about your safety.

But her dad seems particularly fond over you, and Alastor said he'd make sure you won't get killed. You should be fine, right?

(masterlist)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust #charlie morningstar #vaggie #gn reader #🌧Rain0tes #🌧hacker!reader

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linkedin-offficial · 5 months

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local full time technician gets alot more than she bargained for, more at 8

some stuff for dragons in my flight rising lore! sirko runs a circus on the outskirts of hyrule, and pipimi unfortunately gets wrapped up in the places hijinks after being hired by them to be a full time technician.

more details under the cut!

like stated previously, sirko is the ringleader of a circus called "the sensational sunset circus", popular for its sunset aesthetic and plethora of attractions. pipimi was attracted to this job offer because she was looking for an excuse to get away and leave her old life behind. so, she applied, and the moment she arrived, she was adorned with compliments and attention. to her suprise, she was the only new hire theyve had in years. and the longer she stays, shes grows quite certain she knows exactly why.

(and yes, the tadc parallels are apparent .. oops 😭 my brain loves to unconsciously attach my hyperfixations to eachother)

all of the members of this circus are very different and have quite striking personalities. the current list of the living (excluding sirko and pipimi) is as follows :

mowbray - (he/him ; sibling and right hand man to sirko) a fairly lax individual most of the time. one of the few of them with a braincell. can usually tolerate most things but can very easily snap if you bother him enough. friends with pipimi solely because they both are somewhat smart enough to not go insane immediately.

holiday - (she/her ; makeup artist and costume designer) fairly laid back and super duper chill, and easily one of the sweeter members of the circus. she doesnt hesitate to bring others up in mood and try to help where she can.

she has a .. "special connection" with pipimi, letting her call her 'holly', and visiting her often. she says its just because of how often her clothes tear, but most of the other members speculate other .. interesting reasons.

jaxton - (he/him ; That asshole) probably the one guy who most likely wouldnt lay down his life for pipimi. he constantly bullies her, teasing her at every chance he gets.

when he isnt messing with her though, hes trying out new tricks to impress the locals and maybe scam some out of their money. hes tried countless times to help his fellow coworker iskam try and become better at her scam artistry, but iskam certainly isnt smart enough for his precious arts. what a shame.

iskam - (she/he/they ; "future seer" vendor) a particularly clueless individual, he enjoys trying his hardest to predict others futures, genuinely believing hes right when in reality, she just makes things up. the money is just a bonus to her endeavors. couldn't count to 100 if you asked.

on the plus side, they like the company of pipimi, mostly because she tries really hard not to hurt others feelings. pipimi knows iskam is wrong, but wont say it.

pakwan - (she/they ; resident dumpster fish) somehow more clueless than iskam, but still just as cheerful. she enjoys a melon snack more than anything in the world. well, not really. she enjoys pipimi's company more than anything else, and often accidentally splashes her with water with excitement when pip comes by.

she loves doing tricks, especially for pipimi. pipimi loves to listen to pakwan ramble about her day. in a sort of mutual peace of mind, kinda way.

mang - (he/it ; horrible little rat bastard thief) being small and cunning has its advantages, and mang uses them well. known to be the local thief of the circus, it takes every opportunity he can to sneak about and steal anything he can fit into his pockets. if you can get on his good side however, youll never lose another key again. because of this, it quite likes pipimi.

halimaw - (he/they ; the beast of the basement) dangerous and cunning. halimaw is sly with his words but bumbly and outrageous at the same time. large and un-anxious, he wont hesitate to bite your head off if you refuse to listen to him. gets what he wants, and when he doesnt, he takes by force. these are primarily reasons why he was locked down there. better safe than sorry.

saya - (she/her ; sister to holiday and ex-partner to halimaw) very reserved and almost acts as a mediator. she values her dance skills VERY seriously and considers dance the ultimate art, much to her sisters dismay. they dont fight about it however, and they are quite close.

anyway, thats it for now!

ill probably be talking about these 10 sometime in the future but for now have this !! i love thinking about them and they mean alot to me <3 circus freaks

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skunk-floof · 3 months

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I dunno what creature has possessed me but after seeing crumb cuptoast's stream on redesigning his Resident Evil ponies I have caved in and made some Hermitcraft (and Jimmy) mlp designs

Jimmy, Pearl and G are siblings but other than that I have no specific reasons for my design choices other than I thought it'd be cool

Unclothed versions under the cut for covered cutie marks and fur patterns

Yes Grian is a blank flank earth pony and no I will not be taking any constructive criticism on it /hj

Jimmy's broken mirror cutie mark is supposed to represent how he seems to be cursed with bad luck. Something to note is he's also got premature wings that will never grow, like Scootaloo from the show.

Tango's cutie mark is a pile of sparking wires meant to show his technical prowess with a bit of jank (instead of redstone, I'm imagining welding and engineering, like he has some kind of technician type job).

Skizz's cutie mark is a reference to the Imp and Skizz podcast, but also represents how he always has something kind to say about his best friends and his honest heart!

Pearl's cutie mark is a reference to her name BUT also the shooting star represents her shining personality and beautiful building abilities.

Mumbo's cutie mark is a reference to both Peace Love and Plants from s8, but also Bumbo Cactoni (s6?).

#mlpcraft is the tag for this au if you'd like to see more when I make em :3

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months

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The REAL AI automation threat to workers

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

Long before the current wave of AI hype, we were being groomed for automation panics with misleading stories. Remember this one? "'Truck driver' is the most common job in America. Self-driving trucks are just around the corner. How can we prevent America's army of truckers from turning into a howling mob when the robots steal their jobs?"

https://futurism.com/millions-of-jobs-are-at-risk-but-their-loss-could-be-for-the-greater-good

It was absolute nonsense. First of all, "truck driver" isn't a particularly common job in America! The BLS lumps together all cargo vehicle drivers under a single classification. The category error here was thinking that every delivery van driver, furniture mover, and courier is behind the wheel of a big rig, cracking wise on a CB radio as they tear up the interstate.

But what about automation threats? It's possible that if we redesigned the interstates to give 16 wheelers their own separated lanes, and then set them to following one another, that they could traverse long distances in that way. Congratulations, you've just invented a shitty, failure-prone train.

"Shitty train AI" does not threaten the job of the vast number of people the BLS classifies as "truck drivers." For one thing, "shitty train AI" isn't going to pilot a UPS van around the streets of a busy city with other road users. Sure, a few robotaxi companies have bamboozled city governments into conscripting the city's residents into an uncontrolled murderbot experiment. These are not going well:

https://www.cbsnews.com/sanfrancisco/news/9-key-leaders-depart-gms-cruise-amid-ongoing-investigation-into-san-francisco-incident/

More than $100b has been set on fire chasing the robotaxi dream, and the result is most charitably described as a technological curiosity, requiring 1.5 high-waged remote technicians to replace each low-waged driver:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

But even if we could perfect this technology, robots still wouldn't replace all those "truckers" who drive delivery vans (to say nothing of moving vans!). The hard part of driving a UPS van isn't just getting it from place to place – it's getting the parcel into the place. The robo-van would still need at least one person to get the parcel from the back of the van and into the reception desk, porch, or other delivery zone. It's not going to fire those parcels at your door with a catapult. It's also not going to deliver them by drones. Drone delivery is another one of those historical curiosities, capable of delivering a very narrow range of parcels, under even narrower circumstances:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/05/comprehensive-sex-ed/#droned

If all UPS delivered was lightweight, non-fragile rectangular parcels ordered by people with large, unobstructed back yards, then sure. Congrats, you've just created the world's least-useful parcel delivery service!

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2022/06/amazon-drone-delivery-service-seeks-faa-approval-to-launch-in-2022/

All that said, the big rig drivers probably don't need to worry about robots stealing their jobs. It's not even clear that "shitty train" is within our technological grasp, but even if it is, there's yet another problem with the AI automation trucker jobpocalypse: "trucker" is already one of the worst jobs in America:

https://www.usatoday.com/pages/interactives/news/rigged-forced-into-debt-worked-past-exhaustion-left-with-nothing/

It's hard to overstate just how fucking terrible it is to be a trucker. Truckers are trapped in abusive debt holes by their employers – who misclassify their workforce as "contractors" in a bid to sidestep labor law. Shriven of any labor rights, truckers are forced into the most ghastly, body-destroying, family-wrcking, financially precarious existence imaginable.

You can drive a truck for years, give almost all of the money you earn back to your employer (who denies that you're their employee) to pay back the usurious loan for your truck. Then, your employer can underschedule for shifts so that you miss a loan payment, and they can repo your truck and keep the six-figure repayment you've already made to them, leaving you destitute.

They can force you to work for hours – days! – without pay while you wait for loading and dispatch. They can make you drive long past the point of safety, then, if (when) you get into a wreck, they can fine you for not taking the mandated rest breaks.

Now, these drivers aren't about to be replaced by AI – but that doesn't mean that AI won't affect their jobs. Commercial drivers are among the most heavily surveilled workers in the country. Amazon's drivers (whom Amazon misclassifies as subcontractors) have their eyeballs monitored by AI;

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

AIs monitor the voices of the (primarily Black, primarily female) workforce at Arise – homeworkers who field customer service calls for blue-chip companies like Carnival Cruises and Disney. They're listening for unruly children or pets in the background, and workers who fail to muffle these dependents lose the contracts they have to pay to train for:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/22/paperback-writer/#toothless

And AI monitors the conduct of workers on temp-work apps. If a worker is dispatched to a struck workplace and refuses to cross the picket-line, the AI boss fires you and blacklists you from future jobs for refusing to robo-scab:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

Writing in The Guardian, Steven Greenhouse describes the AI-enabled workplace, where precarious, often misclassified workers are monitored, judged, and fined by algorithms:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2024/jan/07/artificial-intelligence-surveillance-workers

Whether it's the robot that gets you disciplined for sending an email with the word "union" in it or the robot that takes money out of your paycheck if you take a bathroom break, AI has come for the workplace with a vengeance.

Here's a supreme irony: nearly all of the beneficial applications for AI require that AI be used to help workers, not replace them, which is absolutely not how AI is used in the workplace. An AI that helps radiologists by giving them a second opinion might help them find tumors on x-rays, but that's a tool that reduces the number of scans a radiologist processes in a shift, by making them go back and reconsider the scans they've already processed:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

But AI's sales pitch is not "Buy an AI tool and increase your costs while increasing your accuracy." The pitch for AI is "buy and AI and save money by firing workers." Given how bad AIs are at replacing humans, this is a bad deal all around, both for the worker who loses their job and the customer who gets the substandard product the AI makes.

There is a very limited slice of applications where an AI could make a lot of money for a company that deploys it, without costing that company anything when the AI screws up. For example, AI is a really good tool for fraud! Rather than paying people to churn out millions of variations on a phishing email, you can get an AI to do it. If the AI writes a bad phishing email, it's OK, since nearly all recipients of even good phishing emails delete them. What's more, no one will fine you or publish an op-ed demanding that your board of directors fire you if you buy an incompetent AI to commit fraud. Fraud is a high-value, low-consequence environment for using AI.

Another one of those applications is managing precarious workers who don't have labor rights. If the AI unfairly docks your worker's wages, or forces them to work until they injure themselves or others, or decides that their eyeball movements justify firing them, those workers have no recourse. That's the whole point of pretending that your employees are contractors: so you can violate labor law with impunity!

But that's not the ironic part. The ironic part is that "being a shitty boss" is the one AI application that companies are willing to increase their net spending on. No one buys an eyeball-monitoring AI so they can fire a manager. This is the one place where AI is there to augment, rather than replace, an employee.

This makes AI-based bossware subtly different from other forms of Taylorism, the "scientific management" fad of the early 20th century that saw management consultants choreographing the postures and movements of workers to satisfy the aesthetic fetishes of their employers:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

The pseudoscientific cod-ergonomics of the 1900s was demeaning and even dangerous, but it wasn't automated, and if it increased worker output, this was incidental to the real purpose of making workers move like the machine-cogs their bosses reassured themselves they were:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

Every AI panic is a way of deflecting attention from the real, grimy, here-and-now ways that AI is destroying our lives by demanding that we entertain nonsensical science fiction claims about large, shiny existential risks that AI might present in the future.

The "X-risk" of the spicy autocomplete chatbot waking up and using its newfound sentience to turn us all into paperclips is nonsense. Adding words to the plausible sentence generator doesn't turn it into a superintelligence for the same reason that selectively breeding faster horses doesn't lead to locomotives:

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

But there is a way that AI could destroy the human race! The carbon footprint and water consumption associated with training and operating large-scale models are significant contributors to the climate emergency, which threatens the habitability of the only planet in the known universe capable of sustaining human life:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/federicoguerrini/2023/04/14/ais-unsustainable-water-use-how-tech-giants-contribute-to-global-water-shortages/

Likewise, AI isn't going to replace you at work. But it's already augmenting your shitty boss's ability to rip you off, torment you, maim you and even kill you in order to eke out a few more basis points for the next shareholder report.

Science fiction is a fun and useful way to tell parables about our current technologies. But it's not a roadmap for the future. The fact that sf writers like me found AIs as useful measures to describe Earth's dominant artificial life form – the limited liability corporation – doesn't mean that superhuman AIs should – or can – be created.

Back the Kickstarter for the DRM-free audiobook of The Bezzle, read by Tumblr's own @wilwheaton!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #labor #ai #disciplinary technology #bossware #automation #robots stole my jerb #surveillance #privacy first

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thatsatricky1 · 2 months

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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖋𝖙

Pairing: Criminal Choi San x Nurse (afab) Reader.

Genre: Thriller, Crime, Romace

Warnings: Hospitals, slight gore, wounds, gun shot wound mentioned, blood mentioned, gun mentioned, criminal activities, bank heist.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction and does not accurately describe San, again this is fiction for entertainment purposes. Also I wrote this at an ungodly hour at night so please excuse if there are any grammar or misspellings (English is not my first language) I will go back to re-edit any mistakes later after I get some sleep.

Word count: 3,4k+

“I still remember you full of youth, wide eyed, holding a water bottle in one hand and a fall risk document in the other.”

“Ah yes when I was a resident still full of hope.” Y/n commented back not looking up from the computer where she was typing up a quick patient report. An already empty coffee cup in the trash can next to the desk and a freshly opened 500ml energy drink laid next to the computer keyboard.

“Now you’re just like the rest of us.” Chan spoke again with a small lopsided smile leaning against the desk, arms crossed figure still clothed in his lab coat.

“Chan, I love you but your shift ended an hour ago, leave before you get stuck here.” Y/n shut down Chan’s small talk.

“Couldn't I say the same for you?”

“No, understaffed as per usual meaning I’m doing a double shift.” Y/n answered back to Chan’s retort causing him to stand up straight.

“You are taking another double shift? You know you can say no sometimes.” Chan frowned watching her still typing up the last few sentences of her report on a new income patient.

“I’d love to but Yeji and Rose are both on holiday, Momo is on leave since she’s in her third trimester, Mark is sick, so is Yoona, Hani, Suzi and Doyoung. Oh and Irene got moved to ward F4.” Y/n listed off with her finger spinning in her chair to face Chan now.

“Felix?” Chan asked out stubbornly.

“He did the last double shift, late and night shift.” Y/n shot back.

Chan sighs moving to rub his eyes letting out a groan not liking how his ward was always understaffed but most ward were, that’s how it was. He was always asking the hospital to hire more nurses, it looked like even him, the head doctor couldn’t change their stingy ways.

Hospital staff worked as a team. Doctors, nurses, emt’s, cleaners, chefs, receptionists, therapists, interns, residents, technicians, all staff were a team together. If just one was missing, the hospital wouldn’t work.

“I’m going to try again at the next board meeting to get them to reconsider adding extra staff.” Chan mentions while Y/n gets out of her seat standing in front of him.

“Of course you will, you do every time Dr. Bang, but how about for now you go to bed, can’t have a sleep deprived doctor working on my patients.” Y/n teased a cheeky smile gracing her lips but eyes were evidently tired as she patted his chest.

“Alright, alright nurse Y/n. I’m on call though, so if anything happens it’s my number you need to call during Night Shift Alright?” Chan conceded one arm raised in mock surrender while the other patted her hand that laid on his chest.

“Good, sleep well Chan.” Y/n replied letting her hand slip away from being sandwiched between Chan’s chest and hand. No doubt already making up her mind to not bother on calling Chan as she was a pro in emergencies.

Y/n moving away over to the medication area opening the cabinets while flipping open the iPad going onto her patients medical plans to start preparing their medication before they’d be going to sleep.

Chan watched silently as Y/n moved with muscle memory reaching for different medications she knew like the back of her hand placing them in one use containers.

“Sleep well too Y/n after your shift ends.” Chan quietly spoke out in the room but loud enough to hear as she hummed out in response.

With one more reluctant look at leaving her alone for the Night Shift, Chan grabbed his things leaving the nursing room. Y/n hearing his footsteps faintly leave down the hallway.

Y/n taking in a deep breath, blinking away the heavy feeling in her eyelids. Hands moving nimbly as usually putting another 400mg pain tablet into a container.

It had hit 3 a.m. Y/n having just finished another round through her patients rooms making her way back towards the nursing room pocketing her low light torch and quickly checking the time on her pocket watch, a puff of air releasing from her mouth realising she still had four more hours till change over.

Unlocking the nursing room and pushing it open with her hip letting the door stay all the way open as she moved to grab her nearly finished energy drink. Moving it up to her lips only to pause hearing the night shift phone start ringing.

Only letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment of annoyance that coursed through her tired body knowing fully well she shouldn’t have hoped for a peaceful night. Yet even when placing the drink down in favour to grab the phone still holding on to a string of hope it was just Irene who was on night shift on F4 wanting to call to pass time and gossip about her new work colleagues.

With a click of a button she pressed the phone to her ear calling out her wards name, F2 and her name.

“Hey Y/n it’s Eunwoo, Irene is gonna look after F2 and F4 for a while. I need you down here for some extra help. Sorry sweetheart.” Eunwoo’s voice muffled out of the old desperately in need of updating, hospital night shift phone.

Just like that Y/n’s peace was broken, but she didn’t dwell on it and instead nodded to herself gripping the phone tighter as she stuffed her pocket with gloves, a Sutures scissors and hand bottle of disinfectant.

“Alright Eunwoo I’m on my way down to the Emergency ward, keep tight I’ll be three minutes max.” Y/n replied not waiting for his response as she ended the call already moving out of the nursing office, locking it behind her before rushing as quietly as she could down the hallway, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

Making it in under two minutes gloves on and ready. Swiftly making her way down the hallway, Eunwoo joined her halfway.

“What happened, Eunwoo?” Y/n asked straight to the point, turning her head to cast her gaze on her friend.

“Good morning to you too sweetheart, three guys came in severely wounded, one shot, the other two pretty scratched up. They won’t talk about it. My guess is some gang robbery on the trio went wrong and they're traumatised or still in shock from it.” Eunwoo informed, somehow slipping a joke in as well.

“And I’m here, why then?”

“Because my dear Y/n I have my hands full with critically injured patients and there is one guy left from the three that needs to be patched up.” Eunwoo finally explained.

“Eunwoo-” Y/n started to go on her rant but was cut off by Eunwoo who stopped them grabbing her blue medical gloved hands in his own matching pair.

“Y/n I wouldn’t ask you to come down without a reason, I’m on my second double shift in a row, I have four burn victims I constantly have to attend to until space frees up in the critical ward. We used to work in the emergency ward together so I knew you’d get it.” Eunwoo spoke this time seriously, squeezing Y/n’s hands gently.

Y/n gazed into Eunwoo’s eyes for a few seconds before softening her gaze, nodding understanding him. Eunwoo’s eyes brightened knowing he could count on her pulling her into a tight hug.

“He’s in room 4, thank you Y/n you are a lifesaver. I owe you one.” Eunwoo thanked her, taking his leave to rush back to room 6.

“Yeah, I know.” She muttered to herself, hands on her hips before looking over to room 4.

“I’m fine, like I said before you can attend to my friends first.” A smooth yet somehow gruff voice called out in the dim room.

“Well that’s an interesting introduction. And for your peace of mind, your friends have already been attended to.” Y/n spoke from the doorway leaning against it.

“You’re not that guy.” The male blurted out observing Y/n.

“Very observant. No I’m not, but you’re my patient now, so let’s have a look at what I’m working with.” Y/n clearly amused as she stepped properly into the room now, picking up the new patients chart.

Having to keep a poker face noticing Eunwoo’s chicken scratch handwriting with barely any information. Male, looks to be mid twenties, might have a cut on his right forearm and some scratches to the face. Not a lot to work off of.

Placing the chart down Y/n looked over at the guy taking in his appearance. He was quite attractive, that is something she couldn’t deny. Recently freshly bleached hair, black combat boots, plain black pants, an olive green hoodie paired with a questionable leather combat vest, that she hoped was just an odd choice of street fashion wear. One of his hands gloved with a chain attached to it, the other hand was covered in wrist bands.

“Are they really fine?” The guy asked, watching as Y/n grabbed supplies bring them over to the bed he was sitting on, legs placed on the floor in habit in case he needed to make a break for it.

“Eunwoo has magic hands, you’re friends are most definitely more than fine.” She reassured him.

“But you on the other hand, need to get patched up now.” Y/n pointed out hand gesturing towards his bloodied sleeve.

“It’s not mine.” San explained, the blood having soaked into his sleeve of his hoodie earlier.

Y/n held back from raising her eyebrow shaking her head pointing out “I’m going to assume you got blood on your sleeve from your friends gun shot wound.”

“Yeah something like that.” He nods.

“Alright so, I still need to patch up your face. Make sure those wounds don’t leave any nasty scars.” She spoke while preparing everything all while he watched curiosity clear in his eyes.

San could clearly tell the young nurse was tired, then again it was always said that nurses are overworked so he shouldn’t be surprised, it was also 3 something a.m.

“I’m Y/n F/n, but you can call me Y/n.” Y/n introduced herself before gesturing at her equipment asking permission silently to start. San giving a single not for the go ahead.

Y/n moved to start cleaning up the scratch that was clean along the bridge of his nose, it would leave a faint scar from the depth but with her skillful hands it wouldn’t be as noticeable. Being this up close to him made her realise he had an eyebrow piercing, something Y/n was a sucker for. But she was also professional.

“San.”

“No last name?” She hummed out eyebrows scrunching the slightest bit in focus, a detail San couldn’t help but burn into his memory gaze never leaving her face.

“Just San.” He replied back waiting to be further interrogated but was pleasantly surprised by Y/n not asking further questions on him. Yet for some reason also hoped she’d dig further.

“So do you always come waltzing through the emergency entrance with sounds wearing a leather vest or is this something you’re just scratching off your bucket list?” Y/n tried making small talk, wanting his attention off her face, noticing his intense stare.

“We got robbed, not something I put on my bucket list, don’t have one to begin with.” San replied with a small smirk placed against his lips at her words. The lies slipped off his tongue easily as it was a thing he did often.

“Mm, Eunwoo did say something about a robbery. At least you have a new conversation started to use on people.” Y/n offered up a barely good thing to come out of the situation that happened to him and his friends.

“You look tired.” San blurted out wanting to change the topic off of his friends and situation since he didn’t want to slip up on it and talk further on it as when Mingi, Wooyoung and he had gone to the hospital the furthest they’d made up on their alibi was getting robbed and none of the three would say more in case they gave different stories.

“Once again a great observation San, I’m on a double shift. I had a late shift. Now I’m on night shift due to our wonderfully understaffed hospital like every other hospital.” Y/n replied to him wondering if she looked like a mess for him to be pointing out she looked tired.

“Fuck. Sounds like it happens a lot.” San muttered out holding back a wince as she cleaned over a cut on his cheekbone, being used to the pain but that didn’t mean he was immune to it.

“It does.” Y/n hummed out before saying with an amused grin “Do I look that bad?”

“No, just because you look tired doesn’t mean you look bad. You look good.” San responded just as fast, eyes never falling from her face unlike how her hand faltered from where it was attending to his cheekbone.

“… Well you should see me with at least eight hours of sleep and in clothes that aren’t my scrubs.” Y/n teased out having to take a second, surprised by the sudden comment he made.

“Don’t tempt me, you know I’d want to see that.” San spoke out confidently, his pierced eyebrow raising. Only to wince at Y/n ‘accidentally’ pressing harder on his wound.

“Careful San if I didn’t think any better I’d say you’re testing your luck on a night shift nurse right after being robbed.” She shook her head to hold back her amusement.

“And what if I am?” He boldly asked hand slyly moving to grab her wrist gently stopping her from continuing with patching up his face. Y/n noticing just how close their faces were now.

“I’d say it would be a lost cause San, seeing as I’m your nurse and you’re my patient. Your not the first flirt I’ve come across in the work field and certainly not the last.” She put on a confident face tilting her head.

San’s eyes flickering the briefest second down at her lips before staring deep into her eyes, the smirk on his lips turning into a grin.

“Hasn’t stopped other people in the past. I like challenges Y/n.”

“This is a challenge you can only fail at San, I don’t typically go for guys without last names.”

“Choi.” San bluntly replied leaning another inch towards her face.

“I don’t go for bleach blondes.” Y/n responded right after not moving her face back.

“Hair dye exists darling.” San moved closer as if challenging her back, her head not retreating backwards.

“I like my men honest, wanna give me a rundown on how the robbery happened?” Y/n asked out while still doing her job causing San to let out a puff of air amused.

“If I get a kiss I might just tell you every little detail.” San was instantly sorting a made up robbery in his head.

“How about the story first?”

“No can do darling, the kiss comes first.” San denied his lips now so close she could nearly feel them against her own.

“Then I guess we are at a stalemate.” Y/n retorted yet didn’t move back.

San took this as a sign, eyes slowly closing as he moved forward only to be met with air.

Blinking his eyes a few times before fully opening them to see Y/n staring back amused, face a few inches away from his again.

“I got the last name, but your hair is still blonde and I didn’t get that story.” She shrugged, tugging her wrist out of his grasp easily seeing as he’d been holding it lightly in his grasp beforehand.

“Tease.” San groaned out moving backwards so his upper half of his body fell onto the bed.

“Whatever you say Choi San. Well as much as I enjoyed our interesting conversation, I need to go back to my ward to do another round on my patients seeing as you're all finished.” Y/n explained as she got up patting away the imaginary dusk on her scrubs after disposing of her one use gloves.

San was pleased to see no ring in sight on her now revealed hands. Sitting up with his hands holding all his wait he watched her put away the equipment she’d used.

“I thought I was also your patient, shouldn’t I get some of your time as well?” San didn’t let up not wanting her to leave so soon knowing fully well this could be their only interaction to his unfortunate displeasure at the thought.

“Well I can’t be using all my attention on one patient, that’s bias.” Y/n shrugged, moving to lean against the doorway of the room once again like she’d done when she’d first entered the room.

“You’ll probably be able to be discharged soon, be careful where you’re walking around at night with your friends. You’ve got a handsome face, one I don’t want to see get scratched up again and also in my hospital again, stay safe Choi San. Look after yourself.”

San smiled at her kind yet teasing words.

“I’ll try not to. But that doesn’t mean we won’t bump into each other again. The world is a small place you never know when we’ll see each other again.” San replied back.

“Sure thing.” Y/n nodded not thinking they’d cross paths again, but she wouldn’t mind it if it was in any other setting but the hospital she worked in.

Turning to leave Y/n held back an amused laugh hearing San call out to her as she finally took her leave.

“I’ll be waiting for that kiss Darling!”

“Darling?” It was a voice she’d thought she’d never hear again. Much less run into the man.

All she could do was stare in shock and slight anger at the sight in front of her.

San stood there gun in hand, face scratched up again because of the fight that had been taking place at 9pm on a random street in Seoul.

Y/n having been a random witness to the cruel street criminal actions taking place in the bank where’d she’d come by on her only day off she’d managed to get wanting to pay a bit of her student loans.

“You never got robbed.” Was all she could manage to whisper out, San having to strain his ears to hear it, but it was evident he’d heard her by the frown that had settled on his face.

San had been in a robbery gone wrong that night. Though he wasn’t the one who’d gotten robbed. He’d been the one trying to rob others. His grip on his gun faltered quickly, pocketing it in his waistband, glancing at the dead cameras shuffling closer to off duty nurse. Only for her to shuffle back from where she’d been sitting on the ground due to having been ordered by another man ten minutes ago to do so at the beginning of the bank heist currently taking place.

“Darling don’t, don’t you move away from me.” San scrambled with his words trying to back track this whole situation cursing out himself for life putting the two of you here at the same time and not some cliche bump into each other at a coffee shop cliche.

“You shouldn’t have told me your last name San.” Y/n spoke with determination, eyes barely managing to glare at her once patient who’d lied and flirted with her so easily.

“Well I guess that means we have a dilemma on our hands.” San clenched his jaw tight at her words.

“You won’t get away with this San, taking people's hard earned money like this.”

“That’s not what this is Y/n.” San denied desperately wanting her to understand the situation.

“That’s what it looks like to my Choi San.” She retorted, eyes flicking to his hands as he fiddled with something taking another step in her direction, eyes staring once again at that face he’d been thinking about this whole time since they’d first met months ago.

“Oh Darling. You have no idea.”

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an-idyllic-novelist · 7 months

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dark schneider with shinobu!reader headcanons - part two

Warnings: ooc, violence, KNY manga spoilers, Bastard!! anime season two spoilers, strong language, violence, mentions of PTSD.

If you are not comfortable reading this type of story, please push the back button and read something more pleasant.

Hey guys, welcome to part two the fluffier version of the yandere headcanons, featuring the handsome, arrogant wizard Dark Schneider of the Netflix's anime series Bastard!! Heavy Metal, Dark Fantasy and the character!reader who is Shinobi Kocho from the beloved world of Demon Slayer aka Kimetsu no Yaiba! The link to them will be here.

For those who just came here and haven’t read part one, please do so before proceeding. The link to part one is here.

As it is portrayed in the series, there will be multiple references to heavy metal bands. I claim no ownership over them, including the lyrics of Operation: Mindcrime, composed by the American heavy metal band Queensryche in 1988 under the album of the same name.

Special thanks to @ccruzmoon, @anniespostssworld, @enryegotrip, and @mitra555 for their feedback and help with making this one of the best sequels I’ve written for a headcanon series in a long while! :)

So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive back into a world of magic and musical mayhem!

Golems from the ancient world aren’t much different than the ones used today. They are sentient, programmed to perform certain tasks, and able to regenerate themselves should their bodies be destroyed by an enemy. In fact, they were deemed as prototypes of an ‘AI - Drone’. Yoko didn’t know much beyond what her father had shown her in the temple’s sacred texts, but she did emphasize just how lucky you were to have discovered one in a weapons’ storehouse belonging to the Dark Rebel Army, with its parts and programming still in excellent condition. You have had it for over a year, and you can certainly tell that it wasn’t used for thermal optics or firing weapons at opponents from great distances like the AI-Drones were originally designed to do in war.

For one, Led Zeppelin was made of metal dripped in gold, with stubby legs and a long feathery tail as well as wings. It could change its body’s mass from the size of a dumpling to a pillow in the blink of an eye, and had a mouth of razor-sharp teeth that served two purposes: storing items in its body, and showing recordings it took from its point of view. Oh, and biting people who came too close to you, its owner. Apparently, according to the technicians in the samurai residence, Led Zeppelin immediately bonded with you, the first person it saw once they had reactivated its factory settings.

Well…supposed it is still a tad bit rude to keep referring to Led Zeppelin as an ‘it’ when ‘he’ has always been by your side, acting as a personal assistant and a subsequent comfort pet because goldfish have been extinct for the last century. When the night terrors began occurring last month, however, your Zeppelin had been stuck in the mechanical shop for a month because a few of his corroding parts were getting more difficult to find, courtesy of the Dark Rebel’s Army growing power in the country.

But now the remaining safe haven in A-Ian-Maide was under attack by two Samurai Shoguns and a herd of sphinxes, your golem’s role would be more important than ever. He would keep Lucien Renlen safe, along with the women and children and the samurai who are stationed to look after them. When you gave this order, the golem shook his body rapidly - clearly he wanted to follow you into the battlefield outside.

You smiled sadly as you shook your head too, cradling the tiny Zeppelin in your hands. “You have to. If there is anyone in this world who is capable of defeating the Dark Rebel Army and preventing them from reviving the God of Destruction,” You looked up, seeing a raven-haired young man in standard leather armor and about to burst into tears as he looked at you with wide, dark blue eyes. “It is the boy you are protecting. This is my final command as your owner.” When you said this, Zeppelin started weeping. You were startled. Since when golems could cry?

“Ara, ara, come now.” You cooed, wiping away the golden, oily tears with your thumbs. “You must be brave for me, Led Zeppelin. Farewell, my dearest companion.” Pressing a kiss against his tiny horns, you reluctantly took a few steps forward and placed Led Zeppelin on top of Lucien’s head. Giving the golem one final pat on the head, you turned around, ready to sprint from the main lobby and toward what might become your tombstone when a pair of wiry arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tightly from behind.

“[First Name], please don’t go!” You couldn’t feel his tears through your leather armor, and yet his voice was cracked. Desperate to keep you here behind the safety of the castle’s walls….even when these walls may come crumbling down the longer you are here. Untangling Lucien’s arms from your body, you turned around and faced him, covering his quivering hands with your own.

“Lucien, I can’t. I need to be there for them, for Yoko. I can’t fail as I…as I had failed the two of you in Meta-llicana, the citizens. If I had only been quicker, stronger….none of this would have happened. And you wouldn’t have taken so long to recover. I’m so, so, sorry.” For a brief moment, you saw a glimmer of recognition in Lucien’s eyes. Perhaps you were already losing your mind?

Shaking your head, you released Lucien’s hands from your grasp….and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Remember this, Lucien. To be born is a blessing. Do not look back in remorse, because nothing good comes from it. And remember to smile, even when it seems like suffering is coming towards you like an avalanche and it’s hard to breathe. But above all else….never forget that you are loved. Yoko loves you, and I love you. You are strong, and even if something happens to me…I know you will keep moving forward.”

Leaning forward, you gently kissed Lucien. This is the same ritual Yoko had secretly been performing when she thought no one was around, oblivious to just how many times Led Zeppelin has caught her in action and you’ve seen it via the recordings. As the high priest’s daughter, she was the only other person left who could perform the Accept spell that would release Dark Schneider. Yet for the last two years, Lucien’s second identity never emerged.

But you had hope. You believe that he will return…because he is the handsome, unsaintly, powerful hero of this universe. The show wouldn’t be the same without its main star, and it’s already been five episodes into the second season.

Reluctantly, you took a step back from Lucien and Led Zeppelin, then another before you turned around and blitzed down the carpeted corridor towards the sound of battle cries, spell-casting, and the deafening roar of the sphinxes. A genocide opera almost fitting for an Insect Hashira ready to lay her life on the line….and bring her enemies down with her, no matter the cost.

“Let me out! Damn it you brat, I said let me out! Let me help [First Name] or else she’ll get killed out there! Do you want her to die, or do you want her to live with us as the queen of the world we’ll conquer?!” Dark Schneider screamed inside Lucien’s head, pouring more of his magic through the seal that has kept him imprisoned in this weak body. “I’m ready! I’m strong enough to destroy these bastards now! SO LET ME OUT ALREADY, GODDAMMIT!!”

The rain made the rocks slick, so blitzing from one area of the crumbling castle to another at your speed was almost impossible without slipping and spraining your ankle. Leaving yourself wide open isn’t an option either, especially when one of the Shoguns was using wire to incapacitate his enemies, just like what he had done with Jorg. Making yourself scarce wasn’t your fighting style, but you couldn’t always do what you wanted to do on a battlefield.

Still…the wires….

You carefully thumbed one of them, eyeing it carefully before recognition flashed through your mind. Ah, now you remember! It had been when that girl who fancied herself as redeemable even after she allowed her little brother to kill so many humans and make them his spider familiars! If that’s the case….

You unsheathed your sword, palming the leather handle for a moment before you swiftly swung the blade, cutting down the wires that kept you from reaching the other samurai, Vai leading them. As you walked towards them, it took all of your willpower to not look down and see the bloodied corpses of the men sprawled at your feet.

He was surprised, yelling how it was possible that you could see the threads. His statement made you blink in shock, pausing your treatment of an injured samurai. The wires were invisible, and yet you could see them? How odd. You were sure they could see it too.

Shaking your head, you quickly administered the necessary aid to your patient from the sewed pockets of your haori.

A full vial of Dragon’s Breath to cauterize the wound, dried vermillion petals soaked in alcohol for disinfection, followed by bandages. “Believe me, I wish I knew too, but this is neither the time nor the place, Vai.” You said, helping the patient onto his feet. “All right, let’s get him somewhere where he can lay low -“

That was when you all heard it: a roar that shook the earth, ripping across the air through the valley followed by warmth seeping down your neck. Fear coiled itself in your stomach as the low thudding of footsteps grew closer. Blinking slowly, you turned your head and saw it. A magnificent specimen of a male sphinx, it’s orange mane bristled and teeth baring.

Oh, dear. That is not good. It’s one thing to have a magical creature being controlled by a wizard, but an angry one? Definitely not good. You licked your cracked mouth.

“Vai?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you distract that sphinx?”

“What?”

“I said, can you distract this incredibly terrifying animal long enough so I can strike it from behind?” You said, patience wearing thin. “Can you do it or not?”

Vai faltered for a moment, glancing at the sphinx before he groaned. “F-Fine, but be quick! It’s resistant to magic!” He exclaimed, taking the injured samurai from you and passing him to another comrade.

You grinned. “Good thing what I have in mind does not involve using spells.” Bending your knees, you leaned back and blitzed forward. The sphinx unfurled its massive feathered wings, releasing strong gusts of wind that blew most of the samurai away, and high up in the air. Just where you needed to be. You inhaled sharply through your teeth, spinning your body so you were facing the sphinx, your dominant arm pulled back and holding your gleaming ninichrin blade.

“Insect Breathing: Butterfly Dance Caprice.”

You lunged forward, stabbing the sphinx in its backside and hind legs with the poison you had applied to the sword prior to the invasion as part of your weekly maintenance routine. You could have targeted the chest and behind the ears, but it would have taken longer for the poison to be absorbed into its body. The areas you struck in the male were much more vulnerable simply because they were used to attract potential females through an intricate dance, similar to what certain exotic birds did during mating season, at least that’s what you read in the encyclopedias back in your old world.

Landing on the fractured stones of a destroyed keep, you watched in sadistic satisfaction as the sphinx crumbled into a heap, struggling to stand up for just a brief moment before losing consciousness. Good. It’s working. You thought.

“I’m going ahead!” You yelled. “I’ll take down as many of these sphinxes as I can, and provide cover! If you see any threads blocking your path, tell me and I’ll cut them!”

“How are you even doing this?!”

“Strike first, ask questions later!”

And that was exactly what you did. You struck down the sphinxes who weren’t too high up in the air with your poison and sliced through the wires that weren’t coated with the heavy oil Yoko had released, flying across the battlefield like a butterfly just as you had done as a Demon Slayer.

Who would have thought that one of the people you had saved during an outbreak of purple fever had been a magician gifted in the art of reconstructing an entire object to its original condition, so long as she had a piece of it?

But there was no time for being sentimental, even for a second. The samurai were counting on you to even the odds that were in their favor.

Darting across the ruins of the castle, you heard a maniacal, grating laugh from amongst the sphinx’s roars. Skidding to a halt, you glanced up and saw a figure dressed in white and balancing himself in midair on a wire, holding Joshua captive in a web. Ah, that must be the Sorcerer Shogun responsible for killing Jorg.

Supposed….it’s time to also test that too, hm?

You inhaled a deep breath, closing your eyes as you crouched down towards with your sword by your side. Focus on opening the blood vessels in your legs, pumping oxygen through every muscle fiber and remaining absolutely still until you’re ready. You waited…and then you felt it. The muscles in your legs grew taunt, like a bowstring being pulled back and the faintest trace of thunder crackling beneath your feet. You smiled sadly. Forgive me for using your own Breathing Style, Zenitsu.

[Eye Color] irises snapped open. “Thunder Breathing: Thunderclap and Flash!”

You pushed on your back leg, catapulting through the air as blue-white bolts of lightning swept beneath your feet. You raised your sword, slicing through the threads and allowing Joshua to get free. Because you were ‘running’ at a high speed, you were not able to stop until you collided with the cliffside. You backflipped, using the momentum from your feet and the remainder of the Thunder Breathing technique to propel from the rocky terrain and propel towards the Sorcerer Shogun.

Dark brown hair matted down, half of it covering the right side, with a single red eye widening in surprise as you flew towards him, smiling and inhaling through the mouth again.

“Insect Breathing, Dance of the Centipede: Hundred Legged Zigzag. Thunder Breathing: Thunderclap and Flash!”

Using two separate Breathing Styles at once is almost impossible because of the strain it puts on the body and having complete control over both techniques without it faltering either of them. You zigzagged across the sky, and with the lightning under your feet, it allowed you to close the distance between you and the Sorcerer Shogun, sword aimed at his neck. But instead of putting the poor fool out of his misery, you just grazed his clavicle area.

Still, a graze will allow the poison to seep into his body. Won’t be long before he’s knocked out as well. You thought, landing on the ground on wobbly feet. You blinked, steadying yourself and trying very hard to ignore the black dots clouding your vision. Oh dear, methinks that was a bit too much. Well, can’t stop now. You thought, sheathing your sword just when you heard your name being called. Turning around, you saw Joshua running towards you, his mouth open and….saying something?

Darkness suddenly enveloped you from behind, yet before you could do anything you felt something heavy and furry collide against your back, knocking the air out of your lungs as you were suddenly planted face-first into the ground. You wheezed. You tried to push yourself up, but the pressure just increased. Damn it, you might have broken a rib. Maybe two of them. The deafening roar that pierced your ear told you what was pinning you down. A sphinx. Not the smaller males. This was a female, and it is the larger one of the aggressive species. More than that, she doesn’t play with her food.

If she’s hungry, she’ll swallow you in a single gulp.

Nausea clenched at your throat like a fist, making it difficult to breathe through your nose. Your vision was starting to grow blurry. No. No…I can’t…I need…to get…up!

“It’s okay.”

You froze, startled upon hearing a very familiar voice inside the recesses of your mind. Lucien? Is that…how did you…?!

“Everything will be okay, [First Name]. We’re here now. Just hang tight.”

That was when the smell of sulfur hit you. The sphinx’s paw that had you pinned down was suddenly off, allowing you to roll onto your back and let air enter your body, even as the flames were grazing the sleeves of your haori. You watched with blurry eyes as the magical creature was incinerated….along with the others that were in the sky…by vortexes of red flames that jutted…from the castle’s baileys and rooftops?

There’s only one person in the world who could perform magic on that scale. You smiled. It’s him. He’s back, after two long years.

Dark Schneider is more than a little annoyed right now.

He might have been able to take over after promising Lucien that he will keep [First Name] once he took possession of the body, but the badass comeback he had been planning to make in this series totally got screwed up by that weird-lookin’ peasant! Royal bodyguard? Sorry, no one gives orders to Dark Schneider, he’s the one that hands them out on a silver platter to his loyal servants.

And why the fuck did the Sorcerer Shogun with Yorazashi threads quickly recover from the poison that his queen had personally given him?! No one is supposed to have plot immunity except for him, the gorgeous and saintly protagonist!

He’s scripted to have a flashy battle with these clowns too, damn it! Macapine and Ba Thory are going down. He didn’t care if his salary was going to get cut in this episode, [First Name] needed him, right now.

Raising his hand, the mighty evil wizard summoned the Goa Cyclone spell, followed by Spears ‘o Stone. The last one impaled the Shogun that had bugs in his body. Macapine was sent flying somewhere, and Dark Schneider hoped he would never come back for the rest of the season. Closing his eyes, he began to channel magic into the next incantation; this was a tricky spell, since it required a considerable amount of concentration for him to be able to accurately track down the person he wishes to find.

Come, you know that you cannot refuse me

Let me into your mind,

So that we can watch the dragon burn

Beneath the moonlight and stars of Revolution!

Operation Mindcrime!

Purple smoke and sparks of lightning billowed around him, swirling like a rising mist before immediately sinking into the crumbled stones beneath his feet. Dark Schneider’s magic thrummed as it traveled beneath the earth, driven by his desire to seek out the Insect Hashira, looking for the tiniest spec of her own white magic. Once his magic found that thin tendril, he was able to find her.

She was being cradled by Kai’s arms while Yoko kneeled in front of her, the high priestess using her holy magic. Dark Schneider almost snarled at the sight of small lacerations on his queen’s face, the bruises on her hands and the sound of ribs being pushed back into place, eliciting a pained groan from her.

That’s enough. He thought, walking down the stairs, past the onlookers and Mifune, towards the battlefield with Lars tagging along behind him…and [First Name]’s golem. Yeah, the little bastard didn't like him one bit, not with how much he’s growling and snapping his teeth. He quickened his stride, almost blitzing through the carnage towards where the others were….wait, what is [First Name] doing?!

Yoko and Kai were yelling at her as she wobbled unsteadily towards a partially-eaten samurai, his lower half covered with what looked like the same creatures Ba Thory summoned to try to use on him, the greatest sorcerer in the world.

“I appreciate your concern Yoko, Kai, but please let me…see what these creatures are. If they are what I think they are….we still have a chance to save everyone!” She looked at them with wide eyes, tired and desperate. “Please.”

Dark Schneider quickened his pace, almost running towards them with a furrowed brow. “Idiot.” He muttered. What could [First Name] even do in her current condition. Moreover, why is she trying so hard to save nobodies who barely made an impact on the second season of this show? She needed to take care of herself before taking care of others. How many close-calls of collapsing from overworking and suffering from night-terrors is it going to take until she understands that she can’t do everything if she’s weak?

“Hey -” He called out, wanting to know what exactly is going on in this scenario when someone struck him in the back of the head with a fish. Glancing over his shoulder, the wizard felt annoyance and fear coil in his stomach simultaneously as he saw Yoko glowering down at him.

“Late, late, late! You are so late!” She screamed, relentless in her assault as she continued to hit his head. “What took you so long?! What have you been up to for the past two years?! Almost the entire new cast of characters and we’re at risk of getting canceled unless we do something!” Her fists were quickly replaced with a mace that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “But on top of it all, [First Name] says she can save everyone but we don’t even know how or what she’s talking about!”

“And why should I care what happens to them?” Dark Schneider barked as he rubbed his sore skull, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I don’t care about anyone else except for [First Name].”

The high priestess shook her fist in the air. “What was that, you ungrateful little-!”

“That’s enough, Yoko!” [First Name] snapped, kneeling beside the fallen samurai next to Kai. Pulling out a scalpel, forceps and corked vial from her haori.

She made an incision on one of the worms, causing it to squeal and writhe. Kai immediately plunged the tip of her sword into the leech, keeping it still long enough for [First Name] quickly used the forceps, pulling out a slimy, translucent worm about an inch, two inches long, holding it up in the air.

“I knew it.” She whispered. “This is it.”

“What is it?” Kai asked.

“This, my dear friend, is a regeneration worm. Difficult to find due to its rarity, but it is capable of healing wounds that cannot be repaired by magic,” [First Name] shared a hopeful smile with the taller woman. “Maybe…bring back our comrades from the brink of death. Like Schen Karr here.”

“You’re serious?”

“Quite.” [First Name] said. “Yoko! I need him!”

“What?”

“Trust me! Darsh, could you come here please? You too, Yoko!” [First Name] asked, waving her hand up and down in the air as she looked at him, hope and determination dancing in her eyes.

Dark Schneider groaned. He knew that look. She wasn’t going to stop now until she collapses, so why does it turn him on so much? Well….he’ll just have to sweep her up in his arms like a princess and give some TLC later, right? Wait….did she just call him Darsh? He felt his face heat up a little. Damn it. Why does it sound so much better when she says than how Arshes called me that in the past?!

[First Name] quickly explained what he already knew about regeneration worms, and where Yoko’s healing magic comes into play. Kai was all for it and took off to inform the remaining samurai to gather what’s left of their fallen comrades. The high priestess went to work on Schen Karr, chanting blessed spells around Schen Karr while Dark Schneider and Led Zeppelin collected the worms. He had no problems finding the bastard Ba Thory and taking him apart piece by piece to get what his queen wanted, but how and why would a golem help out?

He knew about their storage capacity, nothing else beyond that.

When he saw its jaws open and devour the leeches on the samurai’s body in three bites and regurgitate the worms on the ground in a neat pile by his feet, Dark Schneider withdrew his previous statement.

While the handsome hero and his trusty sidekick Lars helped collect the worms, [First Name] would insert them inside her patients after she patched them up the wounds that Yoko's magic couldn’t reverse. The reddish-orange hues of dawn soon appeared over the mountainside as the heavy rain dissipated into a light sprinkle. The samurai crowded around, hugging each other or rushing around to help the citizens who got caught in the crossfire, bringing them to either Yoko or [First Name].

However, Dark Schneider could see that the healing process was taking its toll on his queen. She kept rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to keep them focused on her task. She needed to rest, and yet there was still a line of people who needed treatment. He commended [First Name] for being as patient as she had been, because he would’ve snapped the whiny warrior’s neck in half right now for refusing to lie still. No one wanted a weird-ass worm inside of them, but she would never deliberately endanger a patient. Yoko agreed, trying to coax the man that everything will be alright, yet he remained defiant.

Dark Schneider’s eyes narrowed when the idiot slapped his queen’s shaky hand, causing her to drop the forceps and the worm to fall onto the ground. Led Zeppelin gobbled up the little bugger so it wouldn’t go to waste, and [First Name] had the patient pinned down by the throat.

She needed to stop, now.

He pushed past the crowd, walking right behind Shinobu and carefully removing her hand from the bastard, pressing his chest against her back for a moment before he scooped her up in his arms.

“And you’re done! Hey asshole,” He glowered at the sniveling rat. “Show a little more compassion that it was my queen treating you second-rate servants and not me, or you’d be dead already. Actually,” The wizard turned to Yoko. “Let them die if they keep acting like this. The casting department should have more than enough money left in the budget to hire more actors for this season.”

Yoko shook her head, the corners of her mouth tugging into a small smile before someone else, one of the civilians, came forward and offered to take over. The high priestess nodded, with Led Zeppelin reluctantly staying behind as Dark Schneider walked away with [First Name].

“Thank you, Darsh. Although if my memory serves me correctly, I did not say that I am your queen.” The Insect Hashira said, looking up at him with an inquisitive frown.

“So you’re telling me there’s still a chance.” Dark Schenider responded with a grin.He watched in amusement as she just stared at him, wide-eyed before she sighed, closing them as she shook her head at him fondly. “You haven’t changed a bit. Still…I’m glad you and Lucien are all right.”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“The last battle did take a toll on you, the both of you, Darsh, and if I-”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“But -”

“You weren’t the one who summoned the Demon Mail and used it to attack Princess Sheila or me. That was Abigail. You did what you had to do to ensure everyone had a chance to survive. What happened to Meta-llicana was not your fault, so don’t you dare say it is or so help me I will drop you right now.” He hissed, halting in his trek to look down at her. “Do you understand?” [First Name] didn’t respond, instead she just blinked rapidly at him, face frozen with shock from the words he said before he scoffed, turning his attention to their surroundings.

It’s not exactly an ideal place to rest, but this area wasn’t too far from the others and didn’t have as much debris lying around. Using his magic, Dark Schneider levitated and transformed two of the largest rocks into a pillow and a small mattress. He remembered [First Name] referring to them as a ‘futon’. He remembered her telling him, as Lucien, the difference between a four poster bed and what she had been used to sleeping back in her old world. This was the closest thing he could create from how she described them

His queen was…well, she was in awe of his greatness. Her hands clenched, fisting and pulling on the fabric of his shirt before he set her down. Well, actually he kept her in his arms as he kneeled down and tucked her under the duvet. “There. All cozy, isn’t it?” He smirked, resting his chin with one hand as he laid on top of the futon while the other stroked the top of her head.

Laying on his side next to her, the wizard smiled as he saw [Eye Color] irises fluttering beneath his touch, trying to fight off the exhaustion when it was already a losing battle for [First Name]. Then all of a sudden, she sat up from the futon and he felt something warm and soft press against his cheek. Her lips. She just kissed him. Willingly. Holy fuck.

[First Name] smiled sleepily. “Thank you…Darsh.” Her serene voice muddled down to a soft, drowsy murmur before she laid flat on her back under the futon, her eyes closing. Five minutes later, her breathing slowed to soft inhaling and exhaling through the mouth. All Dark Schneider could do was stare down at her with a wide, goofy grin and pink cheeks while the dog ears on top of his head wiggled.

[First Name] loves me. She loves us, Lucien! He exclaimed in his mind, the bushy tail behind him wagging in excitement. If everything goes well, we might even hit third base before the second season is over! When all he heard was a disapproving silence in the background, Dark Schneider chuckled weakly, continuing to pet [First Name]’s head gently. Okay, okay, maybe that’s a little too soon, but c’mon, not even a kiss for the handsome hero who busted his ass to save this show from being canceled forever? We gotta give these viewers something!

[Next will be season 2’s famous bath scene 😉 who wants to get tagged?]

Taglist:

@sleep-all-day-everyday

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@saltyfruitbat

@ccruzmoon

@cassanderasblog

@technikerin23

@justamegafan

@harame

@mitra555

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#an idyllic novelist #fem reader #dark schneider x reader #dark schneider #bastard anime #bastard 2022 #bastard!!#shinobu!reader #character!reader #bastard anime 2022 #dark schneider headcanons

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thewankbankuk · 10 months

Text

Lieutenant Commander Neal Bailey watched in horror as a forcefield materialized between him and the rest of his strike team. How the collective had managed to adapt to their saboteur efforts, he didn’t know. All Lt. Bailey knew was that the Borg had cut off his teammates’ only chance for escape.

“They must have rerouted power through to this section somehow!” Ensign Dan Korowsky exclaimed in dismay from the other side of the forcefield.

Standing next to him, Lieutenant Joe Cavalli, technician and resident Starfleet expert on the Borg, looked incredulous. “But we knocked out all the power generators routed through this section—and the regeneration nodes…” He lowered his phaser rifle and began scanning with his tricorder.

“We don’t have much time. Cavalli, can you run a bypass on this forcefield generator?” Commander Patrick Evans asked urgently. Cmdr. Evans, a decorated Starfleet Marine and the mission leader, looked around urgently for signs of pursuit. The mission had been going well—until now. Starfleet’s plan: insert a stealth team on frontier colony Ivor II, on the edge of the Klingon frontier. Objective: to determine if the Borg have destroyed the colony and its defense research facilities. Collect data, and if possible, neutralize any remaining cybernetic threat on the planet surface.

Within hours following their orbital drop, Cmdr. Evans’ team of five had successfully penetrated the former colony’s infrastructure. They found it almost completely assimilated by the Borg. Where once stood a joint human-Klingon venture in tactical cooperation, there was now instead a giant cube-shaped mass. Evans’ team penetrated the damp, humid structure, making selective use of explosives and computer overrides on entry. Now they were on their way out, having successfully downloaded data from several Borg distribution nodes. Oddly enough, at no time had they encountered any significant resistance.

“Let’s detonate it.” Ensign Mike Hunter, demolitionist and the youngest of their group, displayed his brashness yet again. But this time it seemed necessary.

“Fine…do it.” Cmdr. Evans agreed impatiently, wiping the sweat from his face. Ensign Hunter moved forward to attach photon charges around the corners of the forcefield projector frame. He had scarcely placed one charge on the floor when a whirring sound emanated from his immediate surroundings. The others heard it, but it was too late. Twin tubules, secreted within the framework of the forcefield, lanced out and plunged themselves into the young ensign’s neck, paralyzing him instantly. Ensign Hunter screamed in agony, falling to the floor. Lt. Cavalli fired at the Borg assimilation device, vaporizing it.

“Ensign!!!” Cmdr. Evans yelled in shock. Korowsky brought out his medkit and knelt beside his fallen teammate. Suddenly, klaxons sounded.

The team knew that the collective was afoot. In desperation, Bailey and Cavalli began firing at the forcefield from opposite sides. But it was no use. The Borg had awakened.

Drones materialized behind Evans and his team, and began advancing. Lt. Bailey could only watch as his teammates abandoned Ensign Hunter and began firing at the approaching Borg. One-by-one, drones fell. The team was at its best, wasting no shots. Within seconds, the Borg had adapted, but Evans’ team was prepared for this.

“Remodulate!” he ordered.

The team paused to activate their weapons controls, and resumed firing. Their weapons were effective once again, and the remaining Borg were mowed down. The complex was filled with an eerie silence. Evans, feeling relieved, turned to the still-active forcefield and the fallen Ensign Hunter beside it. The nanoprobes had done their work--the Ensign’s face had turned a pale shade of gray, and the telltale sign of Borg-colored veins and emerging implants were visible.

But before Evans could say a word, the sound of heavy metallic footsteps echoed again through the complex. The team braced itself for more drone beam-ins…but this time the Borg had a different strategy. In unison, two rows of Borg emerged from the corridor walls, forming two perfect flanks in front of the Starfleet team. They marched forward with incredible speed.

These were no ordinary Borg. Once, they had been the fittest of the humans and Klingons assigned to the base. Now, they were enhanced cybernetic warriors. Their already-impressive biological musculature had been enhanced beyond the ability of any other galactic power. These tactical drones did not carry conventional maintenance or surgical implements. Instead, they were built solely for combat assimilation. Sculpted armored plates conforming to their anatomically perfect cyborg bodies, made of Borg platinum and other enhanced synthetic alloys, moved with harmonious symmetry to their muscles. Interlocking plates across their thoracic sections provided an impenetrable barrier.

Ensign Cavalli was the closest and had the first shot. It glanced harmlessly off the Borg shielding. Cavalli remodulated, and fired again. The shot made a glancing blow off the lead Borg’s chest, leaving a cloud of plasma smoke. The rest of the team remodulated, and began firing.

But this time, the tactical drones emerged from the smoke, utterly unharmed. Their chest armor had absorbed the weapon impacts, and had in fact dispersed their energies back into their Borg power systems.

Evans watched in horror as his team’s weaponry was rendered utterly useless. Shot by shot, the Borg remained undeterred. The team switched to photon grenades. The first exploded in the center of the corridor, throwing the tactical drones to the sides. But it was not enough to destroy them. The Borg simply got back on their feet and marched forward.

The team had rehearsed what would happen if they were in a no-win situation. It was standard operating procedure for Starfleet’s elite strike forces. As the Borg drones reached within an arm’s distance, Evans dropped his weapon and reached for his belt where the emergency quantum grenade was stored. Better dead than assimilated!

“Lt. Bailey, save yourself!!” Evans ordered. On the other side of the forcefield, Bailey hesitated for a moment, then ran. The desperate but resolute look on his commander’s face was burned into his mind as he fled. Lt. Bailey ran down the corridor, and turned to see the explosion.

But it never happened…

The collective had learned all it needed. By accessing the mind of the drone formerly known as Ensign Mike Hunter, they knew the team’s plans. As Evans pulled out the quantum grenade, the prone form of Ensign Hunter suddenly came alive, and the newly assimilated Starfleet Marine charged into his former commanding officer, wrenching the device from his grip. With enhanced cybernetic strength, Hunter knocked Evans down with ease.

Before Lt. Cavalli or Ensign Korowsky had a chance to activate their self-destruct grenades, the tactical drones had surrounded them. Lt. Bailey watched from afar as they attempted to fight their way out, hand-to-hand. Their resistance was utterly futile. The Marines were knocked down, one-by-one. One drone took particular pleasure in testing his growing cybernetic strength against the humans. This newest Borg drone had gone from the archaic designation of Ensign Michael J. Hunter, Starfleet service #11283-5496 Alpha, to the efficient label of One of Five, primary subunit of Tactical Trimatrix 315. Resistance was utterly futile.

Ensign Korowsky found himself separated from the others. He’d been knocked unconscious in the scuffle, and now found himself attached to an assimilation table. A tall, muscular six feet and 200 lbs. of muscle, Korowsky prided himself on being able to master the machinery around him—and to use strength to win any situation. It was an attitude which had gotten him very far in the Starfleet Marines. But now his human strength was no match for the assimilation table’s restraints.

Korowsky wondered why they hadn’t assimilated him already. He felt no different, aside from a splitting headache from when the drones had struck him down. He felt no burning sensation in his bloodstream or puncture wounds on his neck or elsewhere. Korowsky realized, with a sinking feeling, that he was only waiting for the inevitable.

A soft breeze wafted through the assimilation chamber, making the Ensign’s body hair stand on end. It was then that Korowsky realized that he was completely stripped of clothing. In the incredible humidity of the Borg complex, he hadn’t noticed. Could it be that the assimilation chamber was even hotter? Around Korowsky, the cacophony of power conduits and throbbing regeneration alcoves echoed.

The walls in front of him shifted. A Borg drone approached. This tactical drone was of the same unique configuration that the team had encountered moments before they were captured. It was apparent that this particular unit had once been a very young, attractive-looking human male. He was tall, and muscular, with handsome features that were augmented by cranial tubing and implants but no ocular eyepiece. The drone had large, piercing green eyes, and his face bore the expression of a slight superior sneer. His body was covered from the neck down with thick Borg platinum armor which wrapped tightly around his bodybuilder physique. Was this one of the former colonists?

“We are the Borg. Your biological distinctiveness will adapt to service us. Resistance is Futile,” the drone intoned in a deep, synthetic voice. As the drone approached, Korowsky closed his eyes and clenched his square jaw in anticipation of the pain.

The drone reached out with one arm for Korowsky ’s crotch. Assimilation tubules shot out from his fingers, and plunged deep into the base of Korowsky’s penile shaft. The Starfleet Marine screamed in pain…

Seconds later, breathless, Korowsky opened his eyes in bewilderment. He felt a change—but it was not the assimilation that he had steeled himself for. Instead, he had felt himself get incredibly aroused. He was powerless to stop it—his cock lifted up, up into a raging erection. He was harder than he had ever been in his life. Korowsky arched his back as far as the assimilation table would allow and gasped in surprise and pleasure as his cock swelled with blood and stretched to its limit.

The assimilation table began to swivel, and brought Korowsky up to a vertical position. Then, with the drone standing behind him, the restraints released, leaving Korowsky standing with a massive erection.

“You represent a team which Starfleet selected to be on the front lines and infiltrate the Borg. Your combat skills and physical ability indicate that you are an excellent specimen of your species. Your genetic distinctiveness will become our own.”

Korowsky was unrestrained, and seemingly free to go. But the force of his erection was too much. The Ensign groaned as he felt his tool begin a change. The nanoprobes in his bloodstream were designed for assimilation, but they could also provide simply augmentation. That was exactly what Korowsky was experiencing as his testicles began to swell and grow heavy. He could feel the semen flooding through his reproductive tract at an alarming rate. He felt his body tighten up as the fluid rushed forth in a torrent up his shaft, and yet he did not ejaculate.

Instead, Korowsky stood there, his brain functions overcome with the hardness, the tension. The air around his naked body seemed electrified with sexual possibility. His whole being was collecting around his cock. It was unbearable; he felt primed to explode.

Korowsky groaned with pleasure as he felt his cock stretch even further. The cybernetic augmentations had grown his tool to massive proportions!

In the humid heat, with wave upon wave of energy seemingly directed at his mind, Korowsky felt the collective speak to him. The drone seemed to whisper…

Service the collective. Provide your biological distinctiveness to us.

The space ahead of him was dominated by a column-shaped alcove which reached through the ceiling. Korowsky felt compelled to move toward it, and he did. As he walked, his shaft began dripping pre-ejaculate; his cock was filled to bursting with cum.

When he finally stood in the alcove, his mind awash with the burning sensation of pre-orgasm, Korowsky thrust his hips forward into the orifice, which resembled a power socket. As he did, he felt a sense of relief. The regenerative Borg technology molded itself around his cock, gripping it tightly. Then, the alcove sprang to life, with power flowing through conduits and into Korowsky ’s body. The Starfleet ensign felt the sensation of a thousand fingers stroking his cock, licking it, sucking it—all synthetically, of course. He gasped, and his cock finally exploded.

Korowsky shuddered as his cock began releasing its juice into the alcove. He was in ecstasy, and it was never-ending. The alcove continued accepting his seed, and Korowsky, plugged in and nanoprobe-enhanced, kept pumping away. Sparks of electricity raced up and down the alcove and through the Marine’s body, overwhelming his senses.

As the minutes and hours passed by, Korowsky’s face assumed an expression of delightful agony, his jaw clenched in instinctive seriousness as his body shot its seed repeatedly. The torrent of cum was never-ending, as the alcove continually fed nutrients to sped up bioproduction in Korowsky’s body. As time went on, more and more nanoprobes entered Korowsky ’s system, slowly assimilating him, yet leaving his genitals enhanced but unassimilated—for now.

No human was ever made to have an interminable orgasm. But the Borg could do what evolution could not. Korowsky was the first, but certainly not the last to undergo this enhancement. As one orgasmic cycle ended, leaving the alcove full of liters of ejaculate, Korowsky gasped for breath, his hips relaxing for a moment.

Within seconds, the alcove socket clenched Korowsky’s rock-hard cock again, and he shuddered. The Starfleet marine could only grab both sides of the alcove and hold on for dear life as his permanently hard cock continued pumping away.

Behind Korowsky, the tactical drone watched impassively. But as the first Borg implants emerged on Korowsky’s skull, the drone seemed to smile. Or was it envy?

The pleasure seemed to last an eternity. But as the collective’s appetite for Korowsky’s seed was sated, it was replaced with their need to add individual distinctiveness to their hive. Organ by organ, inch by inch, the nanoprobes assimilated their way through the Marine’s body, eventually reaching his head and finally activating their assimilation programming in his cock. The last of the human personality known as Dan Korowsky faded into an orgasmic howl as Two of Five, secondary subunit of Tactical Trimatrix 315, was born.

Lieutenant Joe Cavalli awoke in another assimilation chamber. He was also bound, naked, to an assimilation table. Cavalli felt his heart pounding—he’d gone over this situation countless times in his years of research into the Borg collective. And yet he still did not fully understand the exact nature of the assimilation experience. After all, few eyewitness accounts existed. Nearly all who had seen the process were either dead or members of the collective themselves. Cavalli expected the same fate.

Yet he would not have expected the appearance of another tactical drone before him. Starfleet had no records of this type of drone—there was truly so much that they did not know about the collective. The drone had large, piercing green eyes, and it spoke to him in a synthetic yet masculine tone.

“You will provide your knowledge and expertise of Starfleet tactics against the collective to us.”

Before Cavalli had a chance to answer, the drone had leapt up onto the assimilation table, displaying impressive agility, and was straddling his body. Cavalli felt the incredible heat emanating from the drone’s body as it slid across his body, finding his cock. The drone looked into Cavalli’s eyes and gave a seeming half-smile, then grasped at Cavalli’s cock.

Part of the Starfleet Marine was repulsed and yet at the same time he felt strangely aroused. Perhaps it was pheromone-induced? As Cavalli pondered this fact, his mind struggled to resist the sensations but his body betrayed him. Cavalli felt his cock stiffen and almost immediately the moist warmth of the tactical drone’s mouth slipped around his cock and began sucking expertly. Cavalli felt a wave of pleasure come over him.

It was unlike any sexual experience he’d ever had. The instant his cock entered the drone’s mouth, he could hear sounds of the collective. A massive, synchronous voice filled his head. Cavalli gasped as hive mind commanded him to obey.

He struggled to break free of the control but the power of one mind was insignificant compared to the might of the collective.

"No…I…my duty is to Starfleet, the Federation…I am a Starfleet officer—

"I…will resist!!!!" This mental assimilation quickly became a war of wills, of biology versus technology.

"I will resist….my duty is to…." then Cavalli gasped as the drone released him. The withdrawal of the voice drained him greatly—it was like a narcotic. The collective was massive, powerful, dominating…Cavalli felt himself long to surrender to it.

The drone looked at Cavalli as if assessing his worth, then continued the process. He moved forward, sitting on Cavalli’s chest, and let his massive Borg cock rest on the Starfleet Marine’s face. With a firm but gentle push, Cavalli’s mouth was opened and the cybernetic shaft entered into him. The Borg cock was completely rigid, and coated with metal. Yet it was surprisingly warm.

When the cock entered Cavalli’s mouth, his whole awareness was transformed. He felt the collective in him and around him.

"I am the---I—I will resist…must resist…must----Resistance is Futile. My duty is to Star—My duty is to the collective. I am Joe Cavalli…of Borg. My designation is Three of Five, secondary processor of Unimatrix 315. I will—we will provide all tactical knowledge to the collective. This unit will service the collective."

By now, the primary programming was complete. This human would not resist any further mental extraction efforts. His mind was open and part of the collective. Before the Borg had integrated Cavalli’s biological distinctiveness into their own, they had already converted his psychological distinctiveness into the beginnings of Borg algorithms. Phase one of assimilation was complete.

Cavalli did not resist as the tactical drone impaled him with his cock, and simultaneously plunged his assimilation tubules into his neck. Phase two of assimilation had begun.

Lieutenant Commander Neal Bailey had endured a most painful two hours alone on the outskirts of the former colony. He’d witnessed all of his teammates being captured by the Borg. He could only assume that they’d been assimilated or killed. He hoped it was the latter.

The mission had failed miserably. With Lt. Cavalli’s capture and Ensign Hunter’s assimilation, all their reconnaissance data had been lost. Their remodulated weapons, which ordinary Borg couldn’t adapt to, had no effect on these new tactical drones. Now Lt. Cmdr. Bailey found himself alone.

But he just couldn’t accept the loss of his teammates. They’d been together on more missions than he could count. Each team member had saved the others on numerous occasions. Bailey owed it to each man to do everything possible to rescue them.

For the past two hours, Bailey had searched the Borg complex's walls, trying to find a way in. When the team first arrived, the colony had numerous entrances. Now every last one was sealed by a forcefield. After seemingly endless searching, the Starfleet Marine had resigned himself to returning to his exit point and resorting to tricorder scans. Meanwhile, the Borg complex stood impassively, glowing with the power of alcoves, conduits, and power systems coming online, one-by-one.

With a brief flicker, the forcefield closest to Bailey went down. The Marine stood up. Did the Borg consider the threat over? Grabbing his weapon, Bailey walked into the complex, scanning all the way.

As he entered the Borg facility, Bailey saw maintenance drones working alone or in pairs at various stations throughout. They seemed to be engaged in construction activities which served to expand the Borg facility. There was no opposition of any kind, and no Borg tactical drones to deal with. As Bailey moved deeper into the complex, retracing his steps, he found several forcefields down and not others. Scanning the layout, Bailey was confounded by the seemingly random placement of chambers and equipment. Was he being led somewhere?

Ahead, Bailey saw a Borg chamber with a series of tall columns on aligned near the walls. In the center was an assimilation table. And on it--one of his teammates. Bailey rushed forward, and saw who it was.

“Commander?” he asked breathlessly. Aside from some bruises on his face and neck, the team leader looked unscathed. Bailey leaned over the assimilation table, searching for signs of life.

The Commander’s eyes opened.

“You came…just in time,” Cmdr. Evans said.

“Sir, I’ll get you out of here!” Bailey responded, and began looking frantically for the table’s controls.

“There’s no need,” Evans replied. And Bailey froze to look at his former Commander. The bruises on his neck reformed, and the telltale signs of assimilation became visible. Evans had been assimilated just moments before. Bailey turned in horror, but Evans reached up and grabbed his neck.

“Resistance is futile, Bailey…once you’re with us, you’ll understand.”

“Never!!!” Bailey replied, turning to escape. But out of the shadows, four tactical drones emerged. One was the former Joe Cavalli, another used to be Mike Hunter, the third was once Dan Kawalsky, and the last, with piercing green eyes, he’d never seen before. Only his comrade's faces were recognizable now, behind the Borg flesh and tubules; their bodies were taller and stronger, with massive, rippling muscles and thick armor.

Resistance is Futile, the tactical drones intoned in unison, and began moving forward. Bailey lifted his rifle and opened fire at point-blank range. This time, Borg energy shielding protected the drones from any damage.

Just as the drones closed around him, Bailey saw out of the corner of his eye Cavalli’s armored suit and rifle placed on a Borg examination table. The collective had added the Marines' technological distinctiveness already…

The drones pushed Bailey to the ground and were on top of him instantly. Bailey felt the crushing weight of the massive, newly-born tactical drones as they grabbed at his body and tore off his suit. The Marine struggled in vain. Even his most violent thrashing was unable to prevent an assimilation tubule pinprick, precisely positioned at the base of his crotch. Within seconds Bailey was fully aroused. Two of Five instantly took Bailey’s tool into his mouth; Three of Five inserted his cybernetically-enhanced rod into Bailey’s mouth, and the other two drones were lifting Bailey on to the assimilation table…

Bailey surrendered to cybernetic bliss…within 55 minutes the last member of the Starfleet strike team was gone, and Five of Five, tertiary subunit of Tactical Trimatrix 315, was born…

Hours later, a tactical drone led five new assimilation warriors to a newly-completed regeneration chamber. There, Tactical Trimatrix 315 entered Borg alcoves for the first time. The hive was now fully satisfied. All targeted assimilation…complete.

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