what’s the point of giving your character severe trauma if it doesn’t make them an asshole to work with. not in a cute way. they should be a fucking cunt. they have to make problems on purpose. they have to lash out at their friends without even being provoked, just because they’re having a bad day and they want to hurt someone to cope with it. on purpose. they have to want to hurt someone on purpose. they can regret it later, but they can’t just say something mean on accident, it has to be calculated and cruel and so, so intentional.
Despite being Tsunade's apprentice, Shizune has her own attacks. Her techniques are mostly based on poison and needles, which is kind of insane.
She's keeping poison needles under her sleeves, and they seem to be her main weapon since she’s seen holding a needle in her mouth while saving Naruto.
Does she have poisoned needles in her mouth? I can only guess she's immune to most poisons. That other technique—the poison mist—basically confirms it.
Do you think she transforms her chakra into poison, or does she have poison in her system that she activates with her chakra to create the mist? That technique really stands out to me.
While we’re on this subject, Kabuto also uses his own attack based on medical ninjutsu: chakra scalpels. He can cut muscles, vitals, throats, etc. He almost killed Naruto by slicing parts of his chakra network so he wouldn't heal himself with Kurama's chakra.
He learned where the tenketsus are placed and can cut them. A little parenthesis here: I think Kishimoto could have explored this route with Hinata, since she didn't see tenketsu like Neji did in part 1. Anyway, Kabuto uses that technique in a very versatile way, causing significant problems for Tsunade and Naruto. He uses it again in part 1.
The Tsunade Retrieval Arc shows several attacks based on medical ninjutsu, and I missed seeing that in the other arcs. Three different characters specialize in that domain, and Kishimoto gave them various techniques. Let's see Tsunade's technique (and I'm not talking about her chakra enhanced strength) is apparently called Body Pathway Derangement, which I suspect is a Raiton technique.
I always thought that was interesting. It's really the arc where Kishimoto introduces medical ninjutsu. He had to showcase different kinds of techniques, not only for healing but also for attacks. Medical ninjutsu is not just for support; it’s effective for defense, and you can transfer your knowledge into offense like these three did. Plus, Kabuto and Tsunade can use medical ninjutsu in close combat, while Shizune's techniques are primarily long-range. It's important for the reader, I think, to see the importance and the versatility of that speciality. And I think the author did a pretty good job (at least, in that arc).
Can I request a second part to that Orochimaru fic you recently wrote with Kabuto this time? Maybe he can see how often she’s needing some dick and decides to help her out too behind Orochimaru’s back?
Okay, don't be mad. I kinda went two feet to the left of this request because the plot-monster bit me and I liked this idea too much to leave it be. I was already toying with this concept before the request came in, but it kinda cemented itself as I was writing. It still involves Kabuto seeing the state dear Reader is in following Insatiable, but it's an eensie bit more complicated than just going behind Orochimaru’s back for a quick fix. I apologize that this doesn't contain the smut you were after, but my thumbs took me places as the story evolved.
Memento
Kabuto x Reader
Warnings: angst, references to tame medical procedures. Some mature themes and references to Insatiable, but no smut.
3.1k
What a mess.
Kabuto sighed deeply as he analyzed the state his master had left you in this time. With great amusement, Orochimaru informed him that he would have a bit of work to do, so the scene that greeted him upon his arrival to your cell came as little surprise. Awkwardly tangled in the sheets upon your bed, you tossed and turned in a feverish daze now that the sedation had nearly worn off. Half-conscious and mumbling nonsense to the ceiling, your clammy skin was slicked with a cold sweat. Your eyes rolled about in their sockets as they searched for relief, and you clawed at your face with a pained whine in a fit of desperation. Bruises wrapped around your neck and marred much of your skin from Orochimaru's distinct lack of care regarding what damage he inflicted upon you during his visit. A pair of puncture wounds dotting your neck left Kabuto furrowing his brows.
He used the venom again. Wonderful.
With a quick adjustment of his glasses, Kabuto made his way over to your bed, setting his bag of supplies on the table next to your head.
"That's enough," Kabuto spoke quietly, adopting the soothing tone that was appropriate for this particular situation. He gently peeled your hands away from your face before you succeeded in doing more than scratching up your eyelids.
"Burning, everything burning," you mumbled desperately, yanking at your arms and twisting your legs together.
"That's a side-effect of the venom," Kabuto explained calmly, easily overpowering you and buckling your wrists into the leather restraints Orochimaru should have put you in before leaving in the first place. "I need you to try to hold still for a few minutes," he began reasonably.
"Please," you begged, still breathing erratically and twisting the lower half of your body around as you met the silver-haired man's clinical gaze. It was intolerable. The nagging burn that pulsed through every nerve in your body left you restless and desperate to dull the sensation by any means necessary. Your still sticky thighs squeezed and shifted in an endless quest for relief. The insatiable ache pooling in your belly was the center of your existence.
"You know I have some data to collect before I can do anything about that," Kabuto said apologetically a soft twist of his mouth, donning a pair of gloves and readying a syringe.
"Where is Orochimaru-sama… I need--"
"You need to hold still," Kabuto interrupted, bracing your arm against the bed as he set you up to draw some blood with a tourniquet and a bit of alcohol soaked cotton swiping the inside of your elbow as you wriggled and struggled against your restraints. This was always the most complicated part of dealing with you after one of Orochimaru's visits. You were restless and unreasonable, singularly focused on the object of your obsession -- decidedly not an ideal patient. He had orders to collect data on the side effects the failed experimental serum had on your various systems, as it was unclear what other lasting complications the formula would cause. Orochimaru, of course, was curious, and Kabuto's job meant entertaining his master's whims, regardless of how distasteful he found the venture to be.
You whimpered when you felt Kabuto's thumb brush over the now raised blood vessel in your elbow, flexing your hand and pulling on the leather keeping you in place.
"I know you don't like needles," Kabuto hummed soothingly, still wearing a mask of caring in order to get you to stop squirming. In truth, he pitied you. If it were up to him, he would have sooner put you out of your misery than left you as the seemingly mindless thrall you were now. While he ordinarily had no qualms with Orochimaru's experiments, leaving you like this after seeing what a failure the serum had been just seemed cruel. He remembered who you were before your ill-fated selection for the project -- you were one of his favorites. One might have even said you were precious to him. That person was a far cry from what you had become. "I only need a couple of vials. Just don't look."
You took a series of shaky breaths as you struggled to follow his instruction through the delirium that still fogged your head. Amber eyes -- twin, beautiful suns hung in the forefront of your consciousness. They followed you. Called you. Mocked you. All while growing more and more dim. You bit your lip as Kabuto stuck you with the surgical precision years of experience doing this sort of thing granted him, but you still couldn't stay still. Orochimaru's pallid features haunted you when you closed your eyes. You were empty. And so very alone. Your mumbled pleas conveyed as much to the medic at your side as he placed his collected tubes into a container for later analysis. When he reached to place a hand over your bruised neck, you flinched, craving touch that wasn't his.
"Calm down," he crooned, a soft glow surrounding his outstretched hand as he began to undo the damage Orochimaru left behind. His eyes surveyed the expanse of scratches and abrasions littering the rest of your body as he erased the hand print around your throat. Your knees were scraped and bruised, still with a few pebbles nestled into your broken flesh from when Orochimaru had abruptly dropped you to the ground. As his gaze returned to your fever-flushed face, the remaining residue of what he could only assume was an assortment of sweat and bodily fluids were still slicked across your contorted features. After assessing the rest of the vital signs relevant to his task, he stepped away from the bed to retrieve a pan of water and a soft cloth, setting them down next to his bag of supplies. He wrung out the rag and brought it to your clammy face, gently wiping away the sticky substance still clinging to your skin as you uncooperatively tried to dodge his hand, mumbling about the whereabouts of the man who stole your soul. Kabuto hushed your fevered ramblings with a measured degree of gentle concern as he slowly cleaned the grime from your face, fighting to keep his own feelings in check. "Do you even remember who you were before all of this?" He inquired, not particularly expecting a response from you.
Your eyes flickered to him, seemingly bright with a bit of fleeting clarity as the cool fabric soothed the evidence of Orochimaru's visit. "Who… I was?"
With a quiet hum, Kabuto rinsed the rag, moving to clean what was left of the healed punctures on your neck. "You wanted nothing to do with Orochimaru-sama -- hated him, in fact. There was such a fire in your eyes. Such rage that your family betrayed you. So determined to get revenge. So defiant. That was why you were chosen for that ill-fated experiment. What a shame it backfired so spectacularly."
You gazed longingly up at the ashen-haired figure above you, grasping for the slipping threads of that life. Different memories of him flickered like dying candlelight in your mind. Staring back at you through the bars and offering little glimmers of solace when your resolve shattered and you broke down when you thought you were alone, Kabuto's face reminded you of your lost self, but the memory was only fleeting.
"Now look at you. Nothing but a mindless thrall," he lamented, knuckles delicately trailing across your cheek.
"Hurts," you murmured, clenching your eyes shut as the intolerable inferno raging beneath your skin drew you back to the present and away from thoughts of your past. You wound your legs together, shifting uncomfortably as the nauseating knot of need twisted itself around your insides and fresh beads of sweat prickled across your brow. "Please," you whimpered, "help."
Kabuto breathed ruefully, eyes scanning the pitiful mess Orochimaru had made of you. He knew what you were asking him for during this brief window of lucidity. Relief. An end to the insatiable hunger that left you clawing at the bars of your cage, longing for the monster who devoured you -- but Kabuto knew that no such mercy could ever be found. Despite his tenuously contained feelings and desire to answer your painful prayers, he knew nothing would sate that hunger. He caressed your cheek again with a touch engineered to be comforting, curious if you could even verbalize your request. "I can sedate you until the worst of the side effects pass, but I don't think that's what you're asking me for."
"You… I remember… you visited me," you mumbled in a dry rasp, eyes lulling to focus on him again through the flaming ache that pulsed through your body as you managed to defy the serpent's grip on your heart for a precious few minutes.
"Maybe there is something of you left in there after all," he said quietly as he rinsed the rag again. "What do you remember about when I visited you, hm?" With his inquiry, he drew the soothingly damp cloth over your forehead again. The question burned painfully on his own tongue, as he was reluctant to give himself the slim glimmer of hope that the person he remembered still existed.
"Hands… touch," you mumbled deliriously, tugging at your restraints as your brain waffled between two distinct worlds. "So… warm..."
"Quite different from his, I would imagine." Slowly swiping the cool rag down your neck and across your collar bones, he observed the way you now seemed to be keening into his touch rather than shying from it. "What else?"
"Hnnn," you groaned, closing your eyes and struggling to fill in the gaps. The chilly kiss of the damp cloth almost mimicked that which you so painfully desired. Those wicked yellow suns burned you through your closed lids, pulling your attention away from Kabuto's line of questioning along with the shallow mimicry of Orochimaru's wanted touch. You yanked harder against your restraints in protest. The cruel coil of loneliness and abandonment wrapped itself back around your chest, abruptly causing you to lurch away from Kabuto again.
"No, stay here with me," he murmured, curious to see if he could keep you focused on something other than his master with how cooked your brain was. "Keep talking. What else do you remember about when I used to visit you?"
"Games," you scrunched your face in an effort to concentrate, turning your cheek against the pillow beneath your head. "Hide and seek."
"I kept you out of the candidate pool for some of his more dangerous experiments," Kabuto elucidated. But I couldn't hide you forever.
"At night," you continued in a slow drawl. "Like this…" the tiniest hint of a smile curled your lips as his fingertips left the damp rag and trailed down your side, distracting you from the screaming chaos in your head and dulling the burn that raged under your skin.
Kabuto hummed in response, bringing his hand back up to the cloth to pick it up again as he studied your searching expression. You were still in there, somewhere, buried beneath the damage wrought by Orochimaru's experiment. A shard, a fragment, an ember of your former self still smoldered faintly under the crushing rubble. "It was something you looked forward to," he continued, wetting the fabric again before running it over the top of your sticky, restless thigh.
With a soft whine, you rattled your chains again as the sensation moved across your other leg and re-ignited the burning need that had been crackling quietly in the background of your being. Airy syllables of his master's name left your lips on a confused whisper as you struggled to discern whose hands exactly were on you. Something churning in your heart pulled you back toward Kabuto though, feverishly seeking to alleviate the empty ache. "N-need…"
Kabuto set the rag aside, now finally finished cleaning the sticky grime from your skin. His eyes traveled over your writhing body again as you pulled at your restraints with futility. You were quite a sight, looking as pathetic as you did. So desperate for meaningful contact, you seemed to be at war with the chemicals that had you craving a different touch. With a thoughtful expression, he peeled off his gloves, leaving them wadded on the table beside your bed. "What is it you need?" He carefully sat down beside you and leaned over you, bracing a hand on one side of your head as the other cradled your cheek, keeping your gaze pointed at him as he wrestled with the painful knot slowly tightening in his own chest.
Your eyes flickered again with fleeting clarity as you focused upon the kind eyes looking down at you. For a brief moment, you returned to the nights spent with them before your unfortunate selection for the experiment that decimated your sense of self. The sucking void seated firmly in your heart left you unsure of the answer to his question, pulling at the cuffs again with tears of frustration beading on your lashes as you turned your face into his palm.
Kabuto glanced at the leather keeping your arms locked down. He knew you hated it, but wasn't sure whether releasing you from them would lead to more self destructive behavior fueled by your need to alleviate the creeping force that pulled your thoughts back to his master. "I can't let you out if you're still going to go after your eyes," he said almost apologetically as a warm droplet fell from your hazy eye, landing upon his hand.
"So… empty," you whimpered, your lower half contorting again as your legs tangled in the sheets. Confusion washed your face as you searched Kabuto's features for the flecks of amber and streaks of lavender your broken mind twisted you into believing you needed. "Alone…"
"Can you tell me my name?" Kabuto brushed his thumb over your cheek through the fallen trail of tears that dampened your skin, hoping to direct your focus back again.
Glassy eyes shifted in your head, scanning the features of the face gazing down at you so sadly. A fragment of you knew the answer. The one who used to spend stolen nights in your cell, sharing brief moments of kindness with you cradled your cheek. There were no vicious slits slashing through uncaring irises, nor pointed fangs that gleamed at you through feigned smiles -- only gentle eyes that longed for purpose and belonging. Eyes that sought an identity reflected your lost expression back at you.
As he watched you flounder, the corners of his mouth slowly fell. Sickness twisted in his chest as he once again became unrecognizable to someone with whom he once shared a connection. Distant flashes of memories bubbled in the back of his mind as he trailed his fingers across your forehead, moving loose strands of hair out of your eyes in a soothing gesture while his own sense of self began to crack. "I can't… if you think I'm someone else."
Just when it seemed like the flicker of lucidity faded, your lips parted, and you spoke in a broken whisper. "Ka… buto…"
A soft smile came to form upon his face as he leaned down, gently resting his forehead against yours, still cradling your cheek in a warm palm. "That's right," he murmured in quiet relief, releasing your face and reaching above your head to deftly unfasten the buckles keeping you in place. Kabuto's arm curled around your back as he shifted down beside you, allowing your freed arms to coil around his neck as you buried your face against his shoulder. "You remember this," he pressed a soft kiss against your hair, speaking in a hushed tone. You remember us.
Your hands tangled into the fabric of his shirt, holding on desperately now that you were finally allowed the human contact you had been so starved for by Orochimaru's rules. "Y-yes," you whispered shakily, almost sounding unsure of yourself as conflicting thoughts buzzed in your mind.
"I knew you were still in there," he breathed against your cheek, trailing a hand softly over your spine.
Keening into his touch, you pressed yourself against the warmth of his chest, sinking into the comfortable feeling that distracted you from the nagging pulse tugging at your insides. Kabuto felt so inviting, so familiar, so different from the serpent coiled about your heart, but those wicked, leering eyes hissed and tore you away from that wrap of comfort after only a few blissful seconds, leading another quiet whimper to escape your lips as your legs shifted uncomfortably and you began to crumble. "Oro--"
"No," Kabuto whispered with a sorrowful desperation, hoping to catch you before the moment was lost as he tightened his grip on your body. "It's me. It's Kabuto."
But it was no use. The strangling hold the alabaster snake had on your soul locked your brief glimpse of clarity away again behind thick iron bars. Your face contorted as you slipped back into the depths of longing madness, mumbling the incantation of your master's name into Kabuto's shirt in hopes of summoning him to your side once more.
With a lump swelling in his throat, Kabuto cradled you there, swallowed by a sickening sense of loss. Soothing sounds hummed in his chest as he stroked your hair for a few bittersweet breaths until he gently untangled himself from your twisted form. Digging through his bag for the sedative he prepared ahead of time, he stuffed back growing feelings of resentment toward his master as you curled in on yourself, pleading mournfully for the keeper of your soul. Syringe now in hand, he sat beside your broken spirit, offering you one last gesture of comfort in the form of blissful unconsciousness with a needle in your neck. "Shh, it's alright. You'll feel better in a little while. Just go back to sleep."
You protested with a pained sound before the tension slowly melted from your body. As you slipped into the embrace of the dark, Kabuto leaned down to press one last, gentle kiss against your temple, cupping your face as he rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes with a regretful sigh.
Gathering his bitter resolve and the supplies he left upon the table beside your bed, Kabuto pulled the sheet over your body and tucked it carefully around your shoulders. He lingered to brush back your hair in a soothing gesture, if only as a comfort to himself before having to leave you locked in your lonely cage with only your fading warmth on his skin and a quiet promise as a memento.
I'll find you again, no matter the cost. And when I do, I'm going to free you from this hell.
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