Nymos

Author of "Test My Worth In Blood"

[nymos-posts]

Hullo, I'm Nymos, fic writer, artist and professional lurker (they/them).

I created this tumblr account in order to not flood my mutuals with technoblade x reader content.

I'm currently writing "Test My Worth In Blood", a superhero au, enemies to lovers and x reader fic!

Anyways, you'll find my art under #my art and my writing under #my writing.

Hope you enjoy your stay!

AO3

AO3 fanart series

Patreon

[nymos-posts]

Test My Worth In Blood, chapter 5

Cw: attempted murder (remembered), kinda mentioned SA/necrophilia? Its a throwaway line

What?

“People who got too close to knowin’ who it is underneath that helmet. Villains that gloated about givin’ you a slow, torturous death and meant every word. Scum that wanted do desecrate your dead body.”

He was fuming now.

“I will not give you details. I have the feelin’ you are not a fan of gore, ha, but they had it comin’.”

What?

Was...your entire safety dependent on a villain? Surely someone else would’ve stepped in, right?

Cause that was a pretty big favour to owe to somebody.

It just couldn’t be true. Because if it was, Blood God had kept you safe while you were actively trying to get him jailed. And he was still keeping you safe despite all that.

I think I need to go.

Blood God looked absolutely devastated.

“Then I won’t keep you.” He sounded so resigned. But he let go of you and turned away.

You did not spare him a glance as you flew away.

---

This was a mess. You couldn’t get your head on straight, barely eating as his words looped in your head.

You never asked him to protect you. He had just assumed you needed it, and now you owed him.

Yes, you owed each other favours every now and then, but you always knew how you would repay them. A saving for a saving, backing off on a bad day, or just not engaging at all.

However, this was different. You owed him safety, how the fuck would you manage to repay that?

So you did what you always did when you needed a clear head: you went to Eret.

---

“That’s-that’s tough yeah,” was all he said. He seemed a bit awkward, put on the spot. She was patting your back as you sat hunched over your knees.

I just don’t get it. He’s a villain and he kills and I have never felt safer around him. Am I slipping?

Eret grimaced.

“There are a lot of things in this world that are complicated. He is one of them.”

You groaned. This wasn’t helping.

Yeah, but what do I do? Run away forever?

That bitch had the gall to laugh at you. You were being serious!

Playfully, you whacked him, which just made him laugh harder.

“Alright alright! How about this: imagine you’d met him as a person first and then he revealed he was a murderer-”

That’s worse. You get how that’s worse?

They pouted.

Ugh. Like, he is funny and he threatened me in the past but now he makes sure I stay warm when I’m around him. He makes me food and laugh, and did I mention he’s funny? He also thinks he’s right when he kills people. That is the part that bothers me. If it weren’t for the killings…

“But you get why he does that, right?”

Kinda?

“Why are you against him killing criminals and villains? He is selective and only kills people he has clear evidence of horrendous crimes.”

How do you know that?

Eret went still for a second too long.

“Uhm-”

You’re with him, aren’t you?

She looked away and stayed silent.

You groaned, burying your head in your hands.

Goddamnit, Eret. Why?

“Don’t you have people you wish to see dead?”

Yes, but no one should have power to just execute someone.

“In general or the state? You are fine with vigilantes, after all.”

That’s different.

“How? There is no way to be corrupt if you are not working with institutional power.”

I feel like that is factually wrong but I cannot remember anything to dispute it.

“I’m not saying it’s good, I’m just saying it helps me to keep my people safe. Don’t you feel satisfaction when you hear a perpetrator is dead?”

You tapped your knee, a nervous gesture.

It feels bad to admit that they had it coming for them, yeah.

“Don’t you want revenge for all the women killed by their partners? For the children abused by their elders? Don’t you want justice?”

That’s...not how I do things. It may be your way, and I may not approve, but I see now how you are motivated.

Eret leaned back and smiled shyly.

“There we go. Now, about your crush-”

Absolutely not. We’re having this conversation and we’re having it now. Just because I understand your motivation doesn’t mean I get what is up with you. Do you not value human lives?

Her smile fell, face turning serious.

“They are not worth more than the ones of my loved ones.”

You stilled, thinking. God, you were so pissed. If this came out, you’d be under investigation yet again. It was bad enough when your mentor had turned out to date a villain. Commission hadn’t stopped tracking your every move for an entire year.

It was so confusing. While Royal had never been vocal about his politics, he never killed. How could he just do that? Switch up like this?

As if reading your mind. Eret closed in, grabbing your hand carefully: “This is a personal vendetta. That’s why I don’t kill as a hero, a worker for this rotten government, but as a villain.”

I just cannot fathom how you started killing. It makes no sense to me.

Eret’s eyes glazed over, their posture curling in on themself. They looked ill.

Now it was your turn to grab her hand. He may be a murderer, but she was still your best friend. Maybe.

A shaky sigh escaped them, and they spoke: “My first kill...had not been by choice. When I was a teenager, I used to frequent some...illegal gambling with my sister. It was the only way we saw to make enough money to buy food. One of the competitors was a sore loser, and he. Oh god.”

He bent over, like he was about to throw up. You patted his back, unsure what was happening.

“He attacked my sister, and I was nearly too late to step in. I just saw her on the floor, his hands around her neck, her rattling voice not loud enough to beg for my help. I panicked, my powers surged and I killed him in my attempt to get him off her. Turns out my paralysing agent can stop a man’s heart if there’s enough of it.”

Silence waged between you. You were trying to keep from spiralling. This incident reminded you when your mother had-

“I don’t regret it. If I had to choose between my sister and some guy’s life, I would always choose her. And I keep making that choice till this day. That day unfortunately shaped her too. She became a villain to protect herself and me.”

You slowly turned to look at them, your blood running cold.

“She’s Nemesis.”

Your hand came up to lightly slap at his head.

Don’t lie to me. I’ve met Niki, she’s a sweetheart, you jabbed playfully, painting over your panic.

Colour returned to Eret’s face. A shaky smile played on their face.

“You two get along like a house on fire. Don’t forget I know about the rivalry your bakeries have going on. Or how you keep meeting up during your breaks.”

Look. You blushed. She’s lovely.

“Uh huh sure, that’s all.”

A controlled breath out, and you collapsed against the plush pillows of her couch, tension finally cutting out.

I’m sorry you had to go through that.

Eret looked away.

“...It was the most frightening experience I had in my life. Even when my own life was in danger, I always feared for Niki more.”

You had to think about your own sister. She was nine now. You just couldn’t bear it. As long as Hero Commission had your identity, your ties to your family in their hands, they could groom her into becoming your replacement. If you thought about it, you were sacrificing yourself for her safety too.

“I still don’t approve...but I think I understand.”

Her eyes lit up, and she curled into your splayed wing. The feathers had been sharp as a knife with tension before, but softened as you relaxed.

Ugh. What a mess.

“Yeah.”

A breath passed.

“You know it’s similar for Blood God as well?”

You groaned, taking off your helmet to fake-scream into a pillow instead.

Eret broke out in hysterics.

[uunoia]

Locked in but with a different artstyle. Hope it makes you torture us more ^^

theres something haunting this drawing i can't quite describe why or what it is

[nymos-posts]

Making a technoblade body pillow (drawing), if it turns out well I'll post it. Maybe I'll release it on my patreon in better quality so you guys can get it for your own purposes?

[nymos-posts]

I'm so unsatisfied with this. I need to learn how to draw faces.

[nymos-posts]

Making a technoblade body pillow (drawing), if it turns out well I'll post it. Maybe I'll release it on my patreon in better quality so you guys can get it for your own purposes?

[nymos-posts]

Teaser for Chapter ??

He turned toward you, not meeting your eyes. They looked almost black, pupils dilated.

“No, no, I am just. Admiring the view. Out of the window. Yeah.”

You looked towards the wall. There was a picture frame built to resemble a window, showing a pasture of horses.

You gave him a deadpan glare, which he somehow noticed despite your helmet. Your wings came up to cage him now, your face inching closer to him.

A good view, I assume?

His eyes briefly interlocked with yours, before he stumbled out a “Yeah. Gorgeous.”

Somehow you had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the horses.

[nymos-posts]

The desire to write a slow burn versus the need to have them fuck already, fight

(but fr, do i slow it down or do i add the spice?)

[nymos-posts]

Who fell first and who fell harder? Techno or Y/N?

Techno fell first, and Techno fell harder.

There's no universe where he isn't absolutely smitten with you.

[nymos-posts]

Test My Worth In Blood, Chapter 4

The hero society had been in shambles for days.

The sacred hero tower, raided? It was deemed untouchable since it was built. All the heroes that were a big name rented a flat in it. You yourself had one you were forced to rent by the hero committee. You had to make a show of being a strong, united front.

And that went down the drain now. Hero committee was brainstorming ways to soothe public unrest that sparked since the Invasion. That’s what they called it on social media.

Last you heard, they planned new interviews and releases of figurines to get everyone’s attention away from it.

You didn’t think about it too much, too focused on what the fuck was up with Blood God.

---

He wasn’t looking. How could he do that? He had eyes everywhere usually, sneaking up on him was never a thing that one could just do.…

Nevertheless, that was the situation you found yourself in: hiding in a shadow, about to steal from the very Blood God himself.

You just hoped you'd survive this.

One breath in and the tension in your body put you in motion. Spreading your weight evenly on the surface of your feet, you barely made a noise as you closed in on your nemesis.

Usually, he would know what you were doing. How out of it was he?

Almost there. Your hands brushed against his cape as you grabbed the hilt of the dagger at his hips and carefully unsheathed it.

With a smooth slide, it popped out and you ran in the direction you sneaked in.

You were sure, as you flew into the night sky, that this idiot was not healed enough to be out in this state.

---

He reacted quicker with the second dagger. Not fast enough to catch you, no, but faster nonetheless.

After you unsheathed it, he flicked his ear and your stomach dropped to your knees as you thought that he caught you. However, he just shifted his weight from one foot to the other and you sneaked away.

---

A few weeks later, you added the third dagger to your collection.

It had a white quartz in its hilt and was overall just beautiful. How did you keep getting away with stealing these? He must’ve surely healed up by now.

---

For the fourth attempt you got bolder. As you slid your hands along the leather belt attached to the sheath, you pulled it open and booked it. This time he shouted, but you were too far away to be followed.

At home, you unsheathed the blade and nearly lost your breath. If the other had been beautiful, this one was drop-dead gorgeous. It’s blade was crystalline, with gold in its hilt and little swirls and patterns engraved in it. You turned it this and that way in the light, and tiny specks of rainbow grazed your floor. How could he fight with such a fragile, beautiful dagger?

---

You began to think that he was onto you. The fifth blade was stolen almost too easily, hanging too loose from its strap of leather. It didn’t help that the blade was shaped like a feathered wing, and it’s steel a snow-white. Something was odd.

---

Your suspicions were confirmed the night you got to your sixth dagger. It was kept fairly plain, but was well-balanced and sharp. Oh, well, and it had your hero name engraved on it.

(You put this one the highest on your shelf)

---

Now for the seventh one, you did not steal his dagger, like he oh so surely expected, His right side was completely unguarded, making the gleaming silver at his hip an eye-catching sight. But no, you decided you wanted a challenge: His sword.

He almost had you when you yanked it away from its place at his left, fist nearly closing around your wrist, his hand big compared to your forearm. You twisted and smashed your elbow upwards, steering his hand off course.

It hung above the wall opposite your bed now (it just felt disrespectful to put it on your shelf) and the lamp-light caught in the engraved Orphan Obliterator on its blade.

---

You were thinking, thoughts spiralling. How were you getting away with this? And why did this dance fill you with such a joy?

When you were close to him, you finally felt awake, your eyes open and taking in the sight of the beautiful city around you. The nonchalance you usually carried yourself with disappeared, replaced with awe and a hunger for life.

This was not right. He was a villain and you weren’t supposed to feel so positively around him.

But he was not entirely evil.

You saw it in the way he carried himself around the vulnerable, only slicing through opponents that endangered his loved ones or heroes that were foolish enough to come close to him.

Like you did. Yet you were still alive.

And you just couldn’t get it out of your head how relaxed Nemesis was around the Syndicate. Like they treated her as an equal. You envied her, your hero colleagues still stuck in their old ways.

Was he truly so bad?

He had killed people. He made it an entire performance to bathe in the blood of his enemies.

But what if it was just that, a performance?

You were so utterly confused.

Your blood tickled in your veins every time you remembered the way he thanked you when you set him free.

Curiously enough, there were less reported killings of his. Was that a way to thank you? You did always criticise him for his bloodlust in your fights.

Ugh. This was all so complicated.

----

You were almost fully sure he was just letting you get away with stealing his daggers. His sword? That was genuine, he did not expect that. Had he prepped a dagger for you that night?

Why were you so excited about that prospect?

----

Gods above, this one was beautiful. Gold vines twirled around a cleanly cut gemstone, it’s colour changing according to the angle you held it in. The detailing was insane, every time you looked at it you spotted something new. Motives of birds, stars and suns placed harmoniously on the blade of the dagger. Tiny crystalline gems were set in the hilt, blinking like the stars that surrounded them.

It had been too easy.

Blood God had spotted you as you came close, but had been distracted enough when you asked him about his favourite anarchist essay. He had gotten so into it that you just plucked it from his side. You felt kind of bad about it.

----

It was supposed to be the eighth dagger.

You had apprehended him on a rooftop, his legs dangling off the side of the building, a cup of instant ramen in his hand.

He was not surprised as you sat down next to him, simply offering you another cup of ramen. Surprised, you accepted.

You ate in silence, and in the midst of it he had said something you couldn’t exactly remember, but you had laughed and choked on a mouthful of noodles. After he had hit your back hard enough to ache, you had started a conversation that lasted a few hours, surprisingly. It was… easy to talk to him. His laughter was infectious and his humour was as terrible as it was funny.

By the time you had been called in for support from the hero commission, you had absolutely forgotten to grab the dagger that hung unguarded on his hips the entire night.

----

It had become a habit.

You’d spot him, he’d offer you ramen, and your conversations continued.

To your shock, he told you he was part of the hero’s trials once. They were tests to separate hero wannabes from people who could survive in a fight. The program was viscous, but not free of cheaters and nepotism.

He had not been there by his own free will. The Angel had freed him as a teenager, and the pair was a duo ever since.

You had silently contrasted your situations, how you had prayed for years that someone would come and save you. You told him none of that.

That was vulnerable information. And even though admitting his roots must have been difficult, you just… couldn’t. Admitting you had fear, and that you had ambitions, would crack the mask of the perfect hero you were supposed to be.

So you let him talk, listened to his descent into vigilantism that led him to be a villain. Failed first missions, establishing a reputation and how it had felt to build the Syndicate.

It made sense. You hated his methods, but you couldn’t deny how useful he was. By intimidating crueller, lesser villains, he did his part of controlling L’manburg’s underworld.

A necessary evil.

That’s all he was.

---

You grew closer, though you hated to admit it.

He was just so kind. He offered you food when you were hungry, his cape when you were cold, and his presence when you were feeling lonely.

Were you so starved for connection that you counted a villain as your friend?

---

How had it gotten that far?

The nights grew colder, and he radiated heat. You inched closer and closer every time, until your leg was pressed against his, and his cape was sitting around your shoulders.

---

You jolted awake. This was the second time this night that you fell asleep while he rambled on. Were you really feeling safe enough around a murderer to doze off?

“You doin’ okay?” he murmured, nudging you with his shoulder.

Yeah. Just tired.

He paused for a second. Stretched his arm up to scratch behind his ear. And continued: “No. Like, uh, mentally. You were spacin’ out.”

Ah.

It was time to set this straight. You had to end this before you betrayed your cause. If you had to put space between you, then you were willing to sacrifice this friendship, or whatever it was you had.

Even if it shred your heart into bloody pieces.

You leaned away from where you had cosied up to his shoulder.

Just thinking how I’m feeling pretty safe considering there’s a murderer next to me.

He made a pained sound, like his words had hit him in his heart.

Silence. You considered getting up and leaving, but he spoke.

“Does it really bother you that much?”

You gawked at him.

Uh, yeah? Hello?

“Just, your colleagues have equal as much blood on their hands. Yet you seem perfectly fine with them.”

It’s different.

“Because they’re heroes, huh?”

You looked away.

“I get that it scares you off. There’s nothin’ I could do to bring these people back, and I wouldn’t, honestly. I do not lose a minute of sleep over people who hurt me or who are a danger to my friends. And maybe that makes me a bad person, maybe that makes me rotten, but that is the only way why I can do what I do, and save this city’s people bit for bit.”

Fact was, your fellow heroes murdered. You had always known. It’s not like they hid it, some keeping lists of how many villains they had gotten rid of during a week, making a competition out of it.

They did not consider villains and vigilantes as people on the brink of desperation.

You did. And you had earned your fair share of criticism for it by the public.

Blood God was the anti-thesis to your beliefs, and the most used argument against your advocacy against the violent execution of villains by heroes.

His warm hand grabbed your jaw. He twisted your head towards him, staring into your eyes.

His voice had an edge of desperation creeping on it.

“Surely you understand why I do this? Why it has to be this way?”

You turned your head away, but he pushed it back, gently, but firmly.

Blood God leaned in, his breath fogging your visor.

“Nothin’ that poses a threat to my family will prosper. Not the heroes, not their system, not ‘innocent’ people that abuse those closest to them and happen to ruin my family’s life. There is a lot you do not see.”

You tasted salt on your lips.

“Do you understand?” he pleaded.

You stayed silent.

“Please.”

His brows were arched, crunching together at the middle, like he was in pain.

You were shaking.

He tilted his forehead against yours.

“Everything I do is to keep my loved ones safe. That includes you.”

Me?

It came out more sarcastic than you intended.

He swallowed, the sound loud in the silence that rang out.

“Do you know,” he whispered, “how many villains I have killed in your name?”

[nymos-posts]

Nsfw alphabet for tmwib!Technoblade ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

A = Aftercare (what he's like after sex)

Very considerate. He’ll ask you a thousand times if you’re hurt, if he went too fast, etc. Has a snack and something to drink ready. Might fuck off to the bathroom to get something to wipe you off with.

B = Body part (his favourite body part of his and also yours)

He likes his hands, they’re one of the things he gets complimented on most often. Also, they allow him to feel you, and that’s pretty important to him.

He likes everything about you, but if he had to choose it would be your face or your stomach. Face because it is new to him and he’ll forever cherish that he gets to see it, and tummy because it looks absolutely adorable on you.

C = Cum

Comes a lot, it’s the piglin genes. He loves seeing it on you or having it in you, though he gets shy and always asks if you’re okay with it.

D = Dirty secret

Owns the few toys that some indie companies made of you. You were aware you couldn’t stop people from doing what they want with your image, so you at least asked them to donate some of the money to charity. He’ll never tell you.

E = Experience? (how experienced is he? does he know what he’s doing?)

He’s had some experience, enough to be an attentive lover. Luckily he has his human form, which he knows reads as attractive. His partners were flings though, he doesn’t really do romance.

F = Favourite position

Missionary, so he can look into your eyes.

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? Is he humorous? Etc.)

Poor boy tries so hard to make sure that you’re having fun that he gets all serious and concentrated, You have to remind him that he should be enjoying it too, and then he’ll crack one or the other joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

If he grew it out, it’d match. But he shaves it for sensory issues.

I = Intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very very intimate. While he has sex for the fun of it, it is also important that everyone is cared for and has fun. With you in particular he’ll fuss.

He wants to touch every inch of skin he’s finally allowed to see, and can’t get enough of finally kissing you, he’s obsessed.

J = Jack off

Quite a lot. Especially when he’s in rut. Piglin genes, again. Likes to edge himself a bit.

K = Kink (one or more of his kinks)

Restraint/bondage/handcuffs. He likes everything to do with power play, not because he thinks of his partner as weak or submissive, but because it makes him feel safe. He’s responsible with it though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bed at the little farm he keeps Carl at. Second best is his bedroom at the syndicate base.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

Praise. He’s such a sucker for a “well done” or a “good boy”. Additionally, your moans and reactions.

N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s pretty open to anything. Won’t do anything that’ll permanently harm you in a way that’ll interfere with your life.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh he loves eating you out. It’s his favourite act. Could do it for days.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)

It depends, really. If you are having a lovely amount of foreplay, or are just starting, hell be slow and controlled. He’ll lose that control towards the end though, growing sloppy. If you ask him to, he’ll give it to you fast and rough. On his own, he’ll prefer slowness.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He finds it nearly impossible to make it short enough to pass as a quickie. He’ll leaver hornier than he was. If it’s the only option he’s got though, he’ll use it.

R = Risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? Etc.)

He doesn’t like risking your wellbeing. He’s game for more dangerous kinks, as he knows you’ll heal, but he’ll be hesitant at first.

Open to experiment, he’ll try anything at least once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

Piglin genes + modified stamina + insatiability = usually you’re the one getting exhausted first. He could go on for days.

T = Toys (does he own toys? Does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

Yes. As mentioned, the ones modelled after your hero persona. He keeps them in a drawer away from questioning eyes. He loves them.

U = Unfair (how much he likes to tease)

He’s usually not aware of flirting and teasing, but if he is? Loves to rile you up and follow through on it, it’s a form of foreplay for him.

V = Volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)

On his own he might grunt, but otherwise he’s quite quiet. With you? Loud. He’ll moan, praise you, and voice his pleasure. He knows it turns you on.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Due to the speculation over your gender by the public, he’s unsure what to expect to find underneath your clothes. He’s fine with anything, therefore he owns toys of every sort. Would be open to bottoming for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Usually wears some cotton boxers, most in solid colours but some with funny prints.

Underneath that, he’s quite big. It differs from form to form, in his piglin form he’s bigger, in his human one he’s slightly above average. A good mixture of length and girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

Depends. Outside of his rut, he’s quite horny, but only does something about it every so often (still a lot compared to the average). When you’re in the picture? He can’t stop thinking about you, your scent, your moans, and will get hard just hearing your name. He’s down bad for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t. He isn’t really exhausted afterwards and generally his priority is taking care of you first. He’s open to cuddling though, and will watch over you if you fall asleep. He feels honoured that you trust him enough to do so.

[nymos-posts]

That collar is his prized possession from you <3

@reivelmin thought I'd tag you <3

AAAAAAAA I'm so unsatisfied with the face but whatever. Go my collared Techno /ref

[nymos-posts]

Test My Worth In Blood, Chapter 3

CW Blood. Injury, Torture

Alright, bit of information to Calydon: -He's W*lb*rs replacement -He's an OC that appeared in "Orphan's Path", I just stole him. Yoink. All credit goes to the authors of that fic, I'm just enamored enough that i decided to put my own spin on him -He's British, very important -He's part of the syndicate and friends with Blood God and Angel, they know each other's identities

He was late.

Blood God was never late to your fights.

His group would create chaos, you’d try to minimise the harm, they would fight and then he would make his big entrance. He never really meant to make a big show of it, not like Calydon. But the attitude would change within both villains and heroes. Danger had a bitter taste of blood with him on the playing field.

So it was weird that he was late.

You had knocked out Nemesis, who laid at your feet (your fingers on her pulse in case anything went south. You were no monster after all.) and looked around. He should’ve rushed in to help his friend by now.

Friends. That’s what the Syndicate was to him. It was kinda weird to think a villain had better social contacts than you.

You spotted Calydon.

Where is he? Not coming to your aid?

You meant it to be teasing, but it came off as tense.

“YOU REVOLTING ASSHOLE!”

Huh. That was not the reaction you were hoping for.

You hopped away and onto a balcony, keeping out of reach of a furious Calydon. He was reaching for Nemesis, worry colouring his face.

She’s alive. You know I don’t kill.

His shoulders slumped in relief. He seemed tense, somehow.

“Where are you keeping him?”

Whom?

“Don’t play coy with me.”

Leaning towards him, as if that would make him understand you better, you spoke: I have not the faintest clue what you are talking about.

He lifted his head.

“Either you’re being an ass on purpose or you’re clueless. Blood God is missing.”

You should’ve rejoiced in joy. You should have felt like throwing a party. Instead, dread filled your limbs. You managed to stutter out a weak what?

“You didn’t know?”

Where did you see him last?

“Do I look like I keep tabs on him? He’s his own person. We assumed you had him.”

That explained the attack.

This was not good, not good at all. The precious balance of good and bad, the ecosystem of heroes and villains, was disturbed. As much as you loathed to admit it, Blood God was a key species to keep smaller, more violent villains under control. Fuck this.

Do you need help? He’s not with the heroes; someone would have collected the reward already.

Calydon threw a cautious look at you.

Nemesis groaned.

You are in no position to refuse my aid. One of you is already down.

He nodded slightly, as if to himself.

“If he’s not with you, I might have an idea where else he could be.”

-----

That’s how you found yourself tracking the head of a rival gang. God, you hated this.

You had peeled out of your usual armour, donning an outfit that helped you blend in. You had switched out your helmet also, not wanting this to be associated with your hero persona. A simple mask did the trick. Still, you felt naked with it.

Carefully, you kept to the shadows as you tailed Squid. No one there to protect him, as everyone knew better than to attack him in his part of the city. There was a pang of jealousy in your chest whenever you thought of Blood God’s and his rivalry, and this time was no different. But you had to focus.

There. An alleyway, perfect to confront him.

You sneaked up, grabbing his weapons and throwing them in the opposite direction. His yell nearly deafened you, but you grabbed him by the neck and choke-slammed him into a wall. His voice cut off, his breath rattling, as he sunk his gloved hands onto your wrist, right where your armour would’ve protected you. You yelped, letting go of his throat and kicking him in the stomach instead. He went down, clutching his abdomen and heaving for breath.

A kick down his back, and he sprawled flat on the ground. The handcuffs you brought clinked as you put them on him.

From your position over his back, you noticed too late as his head shot up to meet your nose. Pain exploded across your face. You stumbled and he leapt to his feet.

The distraction was enough for him to send a kick into your chin, disorienting you enough for him to have a chance to sprint away.

But your healing already mended the mess that was your face, and you got up to chase him.

This was going so badly. He knew the streets like the back of his hand, taking shortcuts that distanced him further and further from you.

Fuck fuck fuck. You were failing.

The city turned dead-silent. That was your only warning before the Angel shot out of the sky. With deadly precision, he picked Squid off the street and flew back into the sky.

Dammit.

Squid screamed as Angel let him fall, before diving in to catch him mid-air. He repeated the process a few times before he landed in front of you (and before Squid passed out from fear). He roughly shoved the gang leader to his knees before unsheathing his katana and pressing it onto his neck.

“I shouldn’t even have to ask. Where is he?”

Squid just whimpered.

“I won’t ask again. Where is Blood God?”

Angel had leaned over and was fixating the hyperventilating Squid with a death glare.

“I don’t- I don’t know where he is, believe me-”

Coming to think of it, it was odd that the Syndicate hadn’t gotten rid of their rivals yet.

You asked Angel: And why exactly isn’t he dead by now? Thought you were enemies.

In his thoughts, he replied: You are a bloodthirsty one. We’ll make a villain out of you yet. If we killed him, the ensuring void of power would collapse the underground society, and the power struggle would end in gang wars. Too many innocent people would die, and even we can’t control that chaos.

Your focus returned to your victim, shaking as he repeated “I don’t know” like a mantra that would save him from the Angel’s wrath.

You didn’t believe him for a second.

Angel pressed his katana a little deeper, blood already trickling down the blade. You didn’t know if you could stomach the sight if things escalated.

Your phone went off. Angel threw you a glare, but you picked up the call. It was from a hero you had spoken to in passing, but whom your superiors had slipped your number to in hopes of you taking him under your wing. You had denied him at every chance you got, but you had a feeling this was important.

“Where are you?”

Lie lie lie- At home. What is up?

“Are you not coming?”

Coming where to, exactly?

A victorious giggle. “So you really don’t know, huh? We finally got the Blood God.”

Your blood ran cold.

---------

You sped off after explaining the situation to Angel, but not before keeping him from setting the hero tower on fire. This had to be handled with more care, you explained. You brainstormed plan after plan, not knowing what to expect. Was he still alive? The bounty was gonna be paid whether he was or not. With his power and strength, it was a nightmare to detain him. They likely wouldn’t bother, wouldn’t make the same mistakes as last time.

You knew you were likely recovering a corpse.

--------

Oh god. He was alive, and you almost wished he wasn’t.

He was more “blood” than “god”. You could barely make out his red eyes in between the blood leaking from various wounds on his head. The rest of his body seemed no better, some of his limbs twisted the wrong way. You nearly retched looking at it, your knees weak.

But you locked them and forced yourself to take a closer step. And another.

Huh. And I always though I would be the one to catch him. Well done.

Even when he was tied to a chair, he towered over you.

A pained sob escaped him when you came face-to-face. It was so silent you thought you might’ve imagined it.

“We can’t get him to divulge any information about the Syndicate’s plans. As his archnemesis, you might have a chance at making him talk. We’re counting on you.”

The temperature rose as your blood boiled. Red clouded your vision, red like the blood that covered him, and you felt rage, RAGE-

You took a deep breath, centering yourself.

Thank you, you replied cooly. Off to work then.

You tracked the footsteps of your fellow heroes, the sound of the door snapping you out of your rigidity. You dropped to your knees, listening for clues on whether someone was coming back.

Like a web casting out, you scanned the room with your mind. No cameras. This was not a trap then.

You had locked the door with your powers already, but you could never be too careful.

Cleanly, you sliced the ropes digging into his flesh. They fell away easily.

Acid sprawled up your throat, but you kept it down. Took a deep breath. Assessed the situation.

There was another problem.

Metal rings were all around his limbs, attached via rods with hooks on the floor. You could see the cables running along them, wondered what they were for-

His low whimper urged you along. You threw one look at his muzzle and got to work.

Something had to release him, it just had to.

There was a button along the desk. You nearly wept with relief.

His good eye tracked as you stalked towards the table. One finger lifted, you were planning on pressing it, as Blood God trashed in his bindings.

What was going on with this guy? You were saving him, for God’s sake!

You pressed it a little harder than intended, and you heard a buzz filling the room. Blood God convulsed as the collar around his neck lit up, his pained scream echoing off the walls.

Realisation hit. That was a shock collar, wasn’t it? They had been shocking him?!

Your archnemesis kept wrestling with his bindings, not even stopped by a sickening crack that resounded somewhere from his body.

You took a step back, hands up.

Shit.

Finally he stilled, his eyes pinning you, a feralness to them that left you queasy. His breath was ragged.

Just what had he experienced at the hands of your colleagues?

His wounds weren’t closing at their usual accelerated speed. You didn’t know whether it was the stress and severity of his wounds or if they had given him something.

You felt dizzy with the pace of breaths you were taking.

What should you do? How were you going to get him out?

Carefully, you wrapped your mind around his. Trying to coax out any information he had gathered. Even through his pain, he understood, interlacing his thoughts with yours.

Disorientation hit as you suddenly sat tall, the room so small, too small for you. Your every breath hurt.

There was a lever at the back that would snap the bindings open. That was the only way.

You came back into your body.

You couldn’t use the lever. Everyone would know you freed him. You couldn’t risk your career, your life for this. Your sister was involved with all of this, you couldn’t endanger her more than you did. Your parents had sold you to the hero commission, and they no doubt would sell her too. If you vanished now, she would replace you in a system that was designed to break you.

Blood God grumbled weakly. You weren’t pulling the lever.

He was strong, wasn’t he? That’s why they used metal rods.

You could tear them apart. Or at least try.

Grabbing the rods with your mind, putting your full mental strength into tearing them apart, you pushed. And pushed. You had to free him. Failure was not an option.

Your nose popped, blood leaking onto your lips. Just a bit more, you were almost there.

Vomit crawled up your throat and you let go, panting. Your head ached terribly.

Not even a dent.

You were fucked.

----

Pacing, you brainstormed more ways to get him out.

Your head felt like splitting open.

A chain was only as strong as its’ weakest link.

What could possibly... The hooks! They had to be drilled into the floor, but not very deep, maybe you could lift them out!

If you didn’t manage it, you’d have to take a break for today. Your powers just weren’t meant to be pushed this far. What would they do to him during the time you recovered? Slice him open? Then break his ribs one by one? Take his guts and twist them?

You had to succeed. Hopefully you weren’t triggering any alarms with it.

Power rushed through you, and you visualised it flowing, forming into a hand that gently weaved its’ fingers through the loops, tugging, once, twice-

The hook flew out. So did the next. And the other.

Until Blood God was free.

He rose.

And looked straight at you.

Your hair stood up, and you took a step back.

The metal rods around his collar shrieked against the floor as he walked towards you. He was not very fast, but you had nowhere to run. Would he kill you?

He stood before you, making eye contact and then looking away. His eyes darted back to you and he huffed out a “thanks”.

Screaming echoed off the walls and you flinched. What the hell?

Blood God roughly shoved you behind him, surveying the door. It remained closed.

“Guess this is where we say goodbye.”

And with that, he opened the door and took off.

You ran after him, remembering to make it look like you were surprised by him escaping.

The Angel was picking off heroes left and right, his katana slicing its’ way through multiple bodies. Nemesis was using Blood God’s axe, toppling her enemies and cracking their skulls.

As you looked around, you saw more and more villains and vigilantes pop up. Seems like the Syndicate’s patience had run out.

You glanced back in front of you just in time to see the blunt end of the axe swing to your face, and then you remembered nothing more.

[uunoia]

[nymos-posts]

should i put techno in a collar for my next drawing yes or no

[nymos-posts]

Techno right where he wants to be~

[nymos-posts]

pspsps new fanart

[nymos-posts]

art so good it's getting censored. Wanna see my nude study of techno while i wait for the appeal for my post? click here to see it for free on patreon!

Update: Patreon flagged it as well! I had to put it behind a paywall yippie. anyway you can see it blurred now? If anyone has any alternatives where i can post it PLEASE let me know

Update 2: see it on AO3 here folks!