#cw: implied smut

[justrandomghoul]

Alpha x Omega: Always Wanted You

CW: Implied smut at the end.

Omega has always wanted Alpha, but does Alpha want him as much as he does?

I’ve been working on this one all week and to be honest, I’m still not very happy with it. I think I would only make it worse if I continued, but I hope you guys enjoy it regardless. <3

Huge thanks to @littlemoon-beam who inspired the religious imagery. <3

Omega wandered down the hallway without looking and nearly collided with Alpha. He looked down and meekly apologized. Alpha's gaze at the ghoul before him looked calculating. It was as though he was trying to figure Omega out. Omega fidgeted nervously under his stare and dared himself to look back up.

“Um…Is something wrong?” Omega asked nervously.

Alpha tilted his head and tenderly placed his hand on Omega’s cheek as if he came across something he has never seen before and must study it. Omega prayed that Alpha couldn't notice that he yearned for his touch, that he yearned for him.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” Alpha softly marveled. “They remind me of the ocean. I always drown in them when I steal a glimpse.”

Omega looked down and blushed at the words spoken to him.

“T-thanks,” Omega stammered, not knowing what to say. He willed himself to back up at Alpha. “Your eyes are beautiful, too.”

Alpha grinned and pulled Omega closer.

Alpha leaned in and whispered sweetly into Omega's ear, "I just want to focus on you, our beautiful Omega."

Alpha gently kissed and nibbled his neck, compelling Omega to shutter and gasp in ecstasy. Alpha had the reputation of being forward, but at that moment, Omega somehow forgot how forward he could be. Omega has always been infatuated with Alpha, but he wouldn't dream of telling Alpha as he feared rejection.

Alpha growled and pulled Omega closer, nuzzling him. Omega closed his eyes and purred at the sensation.

Alpha confessed as though he was speaking to a noble maiden, "I've always wanted you like this. I've always wanted to see you in your glory and see me worthy enough to bed you."

Omega gently pulled away from Alpha to look him in the eye and confessed, "I've always wanted you as well. I just thought that you wouldn't want me."

Alpha removed his hand from Omega's face and tenderly grasped his neck, feeling a quickened pulse underneath the grasp. Omega gasped at the sensation, wanting to lean more into the touch.

Alpha leaned and growled under his breath into Omega's ear before revealing, "If you allow me, I want to show you how much I want you."

Omega swallowed and nodded, not trusting his voice. He couldn't believe that Alpha wanted him. Alpha wanted Omega how Omega wanted Alpha. Alpha grinned and removed his hand. Omega whined at the loss and gasped as Alpha lifted him into his arms as if he was carrying a princess, and in a way, he was.

Omega wrapped his arms around Alpha's neck to keep himself from falling and leaned closer, wanting to bask in his warmth. Alpha kissed Omega's neck one last time as he carried Omega back to his chamber to worship the beautiful ghoul in his arms.

[hanasnx]

❝ hosanna. ❞

��─ darth vader x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 1.3k SUMMARY: you live to serve your sith lord. NOTES: as a former christian child, this song speaks to me on a level i cant explain. it is not a testament to my current religious standpoint, this is not pro or anti anything. merely a song analysis format in the perspective of a darth vader smut writer. "hosanna" by hillsong united. @xstarkillerx heavily influenced this fic. WARNINGS: heavy religious themes | sexual content | coitus | unprotected sex | virginity loss | objectification | worship | size difference | mentioned: blood, suicide.

Heal my heart and make it clean.

“Please, my lord.” your desperate croak echoes against the floor as you press your forehead to the stone in your kneel. You beg not for traditional mercy, but rightful extinction. To bask in the company of the Sith Lord DARTH VADER can only mean one thing. Finally, your mistake will be remedied. You’ll be scorched from the face of this planet by his righteous fire, fit to continue your spiritual journey with the help of his guided and generous hand. When it raises to clench around your neck, to squeeze the life from you, your soul will escape your wretched and human body.

Open up my eyes to the things unseen.

Sights you cannot fathom, planes you cannot reach, heavens you are unallowed to cross all become possible in the benevolence of his presence. A great exhilaration, the cathartic rush you’ve been bound to chasing your entire lifespan is at your fingertips. They prickle in anticipation, driving you to near tears over the discovery of divinity. To be at his feet overwhelms you, and you’re wracked with sobs. The pilgrimage you’ve been tasked with is at its end. Darth Vader stands before you, and you cannot bring yourself to utter another word in fear.

Show me how to love like You have loved me.

You’re brought to stand. His hand cups your chin, and you burn from his touch. By his grip, he raises your gaze, and you scan the ample length of his imposing form. Cloaked in black, shrouded in terrifying mystery, your weeping is quieted in the presence of his glory. The image of his expressionless mask in front of you runs your blood cold. You’ve seen his likeness etched into your planet’s culture, yet that awe is incomparable to the one that roars through your veins now. Legends depict his dark figure as a hunter. An insatiable pursuant that stops at nothing until the galaxy is cleansed. His abysmal love for all things is shown through his relentless protection of it. With a step, he shakes the very crust of the terrain he walks upon; with a wave of his mighty hand, corrupt civilizations fall and armies stab themselves so as not to face him; under his leadership, his empire thrives and spreads to the untouched and the perverted in his name. Dry mouth struggles to swallow as he remains silent, doubtlessly counting your sins as he scrutinizes you. You always knew you were to be judged, and here it is. Yet, you’re stupefied. His thumb against you does not feel like you thought it would, pinching your skin coldly.

Break my heart for what breaks Yours.

“Do I displease you?” you whisper. A single tear breaks from your eye in your tremble, grazing your cheek as it falls. A knuckle comes to dab at the moisture, and you flinch. His encasing is to hide his unseeable majesty from the galaxy. It is said a single look upon his true self will devour you whole, tearing you to shreds where you stand, and blaze your eyes from their sockets. If you survive the encounter, you’ll live out the rest of your blackened life consumed by his image as the last thing you saw, in blind search of it through endless deserts. Already you condemn yourself, cursing your own household for its transgressions against him and his vision, your appearance is unsatisfactory, your soul has been dipped in gold to weigh down the scales. You’ve been too prideful, vain, greedy. How could you have ever hoped to be here with him when you’re a demon in skin? He senses it, he must. You will atone.

Everything I am for Your kingdom's cause.

There is nothing you won’t do in his name. There is nothing that will keep you from him. Your boundless devotion towards the Sith Lord cannot be bought, cannot be measured. You are his vessel, a path to reach others, your eyes are his eyes. Can he see himself through you? If he, a being of endless power, were to attempt to inhabit your body, would you combust into ashes under his boot? Still, you try. Storms bend to his will, mountains bow by his word. What could you offer to him that is not within his scope? “Anything.” you plea through a broken voice, your hands hooking into your outerwear to pull it off your shoulders. His hand releases your jaw, and you step back for any offense you may have caused. Since his command suspends, you continue. Your straps are tugged down, and your knees buckle, dropping to the ground. Desperately, lovingly, you bare yourself to him, you crawl to his feet in worship.

As I walk from earth into eternity.

There’s nothing you don’t give him throughout the night. Anything you can comprehend is surrendered to him. You’re afraid. While he’s inside you, you’re afraid. Rooted deep, sheathed inside your purity, touching sacred parts of you that has never been offered to anyone else. You’re afraid of him. He’s said nothing, exhalting himself using you as you’ve invited him to, but in your eyes he’d need not ask. You are his. Large hands grasp your torso, bunching up the fabrics of your clothes, ripping seams more and more with each thrust. The pain of consummation is one you thank him for with lachrymal essence dripping down the corners of your eyes, wetting your hairline. The sins of the flesh are a stranger to you, until he breaks your virginity, fucking you through the blood. So as not to surprise him, you swallow your cry with a palm over your lips. Disillusioned with your surroundings, focused on the heat where your bodies meet, you notice how he’s changed his pace. A gentler angle to his hips as he caresses your insides with his member. Regardless of its stiffness, the velvety outer layer is sweet against your walls. True rapture introduces itself to you, growing in pleasure with each stroke. His cape veils your nakedness to the outside world, shielding you as he presses you to him in a surprising demonstration of humanity. Symbolically, your forehead kisses the crest of his headpiece, a stark contrast from the stone you’d bowed on, he is showing you forgiveness. Humility. He is grateful. The sensation of being filled by him becomes not only bearable, but welcome. Your wails are no longer wracked with the despair of ache, but of staggering passion. Newfound life flows through you, rejuvenating you, manifesting in the beads of sweat on your brow, and the tears of thankfulness as they stream from your blurring gaze. On the edge of your peak, you take pride. He wants you. He wants you. He wants you.

Hosanna, Hosanna.

You can’t see yourself, but you’re outside your body. The warmth of existence embraces you, curling around you like smoke. There’s nothing but comfort here. Nothing but a stretch of unconditional love and acceptance. Finally, finally you’re here. You’ve reached your heavens. You can feel it all around you. It is the light. It is eternity. It is. It is. It is.

You are. You are. You are.

As you open your eyes, the fleeting feeling dissipates. The prickle softens, your breathing evens out, the white hot sensation of your orgasm passes over you. No. No. No. It was right there, it was in your hands. You’re alerted as he pulls from you, the wet sounds of your joint pleasures spill from your spasming entrance, pouring down your body that still remains. Your body that drew your soul back in from salvation. Darth Vader does not realize he’d given you a taste of the Force in his ecstasy, entwining your souls to see through each other’s eyes for one honored moment. Nor does he foresee the future of you begging for him over and over again, just for a mere taste of it at your climax.

[druizard]

WIP Gale sketch💜

Eyeing you from across camp~

Artwork by Charlee-Monstah/Druizard

[localcanadiancreature62]

Lobotomy husbands fic cuz ive been waiting on making this until i drew the rest of the fucked up zodiac member clone group but yeah no i need them now. Also heyy this is technically their first actual interaction since i've been going on and on about them being husbands yet i haven't written them properly interacting except for that one intro thing.

Title - Perfect Day in the Perfect World

Bill watches Ford do some paperwork for his Oregon Institute of Oddology company as he waits for him to finish work so that he can finally spend time together with his genius. The triangle grins happily at Ford with his eye,who then gives him a tired smile in return as he yawns while going back to filling out forms in order to give other businesses permission to use his company's useful gadgetry. Bill keeps supervising his researcher husband while floating at his side as he kept grinning,but then he noticed the man shaking as he held the pen in his hand. Crushing it in his fist as the ink splattered everywhere. The genius keeps looking at the mess he made in a tired daze before realizing what had happened as Bill then floated closer toward him in concern,summoning a cloth to help Ford clean up the mess before he could do anything himself.

"Fordsy,what the heck was that?. Are you okay?,maybe you should take a break." Bill asks as he took a worried glance toward the man who just dismissively waved his hand at his triangular partner in order to assure him that he's fine. "I'm fine,my dear muse. I think that three days of trying to fill out these papers ever since Fiddleford decided that we should take turns is getting to me,i just need some rest and i'll be in tip top shape. I'll be with you in bed in a bit after i get these done." Ford explains as the isosceles still looks at him in concern but he lets it slide as his Fordsy has always been this stubborn.

"Fine. Don't overwork yourself too hard,Sixer. I'll be waiting~." Bill remarks as the flirty comment makes the man chuckle,with him floating away after he had finished wiping off his genius' inky mess. The triangle waits for a few minutes,which later turned into a few hours as he groans while bored out of his mind trying to wait for Ford. 'I wonder what he's doing now. He's taking a long time over there,although fleshbag work has always been lengthy and all. And that weird outburst.. I didn't look into his thoughts this time,but the way he started shaking before he destroyed the pen made it very clear that he was pretty stressed. I'm the reason why he's like this. I think that part of the reason why he's been so stressed lately is because of the aching feeling that there's something wrong with his life,and it's eating him up from the inside.' Bill thought to himself as he realized that the reason why Ford has been recently acting weird and high strung was actually him,he was the problem.

Although he wasn't willing to confront the fact that he had to deal with said problem,as that meant letting go of Ford. The isosceles then sighed as he brushed off that thought and kept waiting for his genius in the bedroom so that they could sleep together.

Only for him to hear glass shattering from the man's office as he then quickly floated over to the other room as he then prepared to blast flames at the intruder who entered their condo,but he then realizes that there's no threat after seeing that there was no intruder and just Ford himself staring at a broken vase while disoriented as he then ceased the fire from his hands. "Ford,what happened?." Bill asks as he looked at his genius in concern once more. "Oh uh. I accidentally knocked into a vase while zoning out again. Luckily,none of the glass got onto my hands or face. I'm okay,Bill." Ford replied as he gave his triangle a tired smile,snapping out of his dissociative daze.

"Oh.. He's disassociating again. That's a problem." Bill says as he voices his thoughts outloud,replying more to himself than his genius. "What?. What problem?." Ford questions,confused about what his husband just said. "Uhh nevermind. I'm glad that you're okay. I honestly thought that some dumb idiot tried to break into our house,but it was just your silly goose messing up again." Bill remarks as he then snapped his fingers to fix the vase as it then returned to it's original state on the small table near Ford. Ford then smiled at his dear muse while looking at him with adoring eyes,being glad that the triangle still loves him even in his difficult mental state.

"You know my muse,i'm happy to know that you still care about me even in my.. unstable mental state. I'm sorry to bother you with my mistakes when your All Seeing Greatness should be used for extraordinary things rather than my mortal failings." Ford says while looking at the isosceles in slight guilt,as he deems that a mere mortal like him pales in comparison to the brilliance of his near-god husband as the triangle's eye widens in surprise over the man's comment. "Fordsy,you're never a bother to me. You're my husband and i love you. I'll take care of you and deal with your mistakes for as long as you live." Bill reassures while he gave the man a gentle smile as the genius lets out a light chuckle,not expecting anything else from his husband but sheer adoration as he feels comforted by the triangle's words.

"Good then. Now let's go sleep,hm?. I finished the paperwork as i was heading out to bed earlier." Ford replied as Bill nodded while the triangle grabs his hand and holds it tight as the two walk over to the bedroom,or more like Bill floats and Ford walks alongside him. Bill makes it to the bed as Ford then begins to undo his tie after taking off his labcoat while the triangle watches him as he waited for his researcher husband to lay beside him as the man tiredly smiles at him once more but then before he could fully take off his tie,he feels a sharp pain in his skull as he groans in pain while beginning to dissociate as he clutches his own head while the triangle immediately comes to his aid as he asks him what's wrong only to get no response as he realizes what's happening. "Fordsy?. Fordsy?!. What happened?!." Bill exclaims but then he stops once he gets no response,watching as the man stares at the ground in an unfocused daze as he realizes that the man is dissociating again.

The triangle then resorts to shaking him back to normal since he knew the exact reason why this is happening,the constant memory erasure that he kept subjecting his poor genius to and so he figured that trying to erase things again would only make the problem worse. 'I shouldn't have resorted to memory erasing to fix every argument or problem we ever had. I just want him to be happy,but i never wanted it to turn out like this. The fixed state of my reality warping powers is getting rejected by his mind,and it's destroying him from the inside.' Bill thought to himself as he tearfully kept trying to shake his husband back into his original state. Then it clicked. As if a switch was flipped,Ford snaps out of his dissociative daze and blinks as he looks at the crying isosceles while a bit disoriented from the dissociative episode.

Ford's expression softens as he took a guilty glance at the triangle as he caressed his face,gently rubbing his finger over Bill's tears. "You're crying.. I did it again,didn't i? I had another episode. I'm sorry,my dear muse. I can't keep worrying you like this." Ford remarks as the triangle then hugs him as he smiled at his triangular husband. "It's okay. I just thought that you wouldn't come back this time,i thought that you broke permanently. This is a problem even my powers can't fix,but that's fine as long as you still get to be with me." Bill explains with a tinge of guilt,knowing that he caused this as he then stopped crying once he felt his genius' warm embrace. "I guess so. I'd be glad to keep being with you even with my broken mind,my dear muse. My triangle. My dearest Cipher~." Ford says as he then pulled away from the embrace as he kissed the isosceles straight on the eye mouth as he blushed,deciding to make up for those upsetting episodes by giving his beloved a tender kiss. Bill kisses back as he then lightly makes out with the genius,dragging him to the bed so that they could make out more comfortably. The two keep going at it for a while as various passionate groans and whimpers fill the room,but then after a while Bill realizes that his husband hasn't slept in three days yet he's putting all of his energy on him. He then pulls away in order to let the man sleep as the genius looks in confusion.

"Oh?. I thought we were going to take it a bit further?~." Ford asks as he slyly looks at the isosceles. "Yeah,but you need your rest. Do i need to remind you that you haven't had any proper sleep in three days,Fordsy?." Bill remarks as the genius looks up at him in slight embarrassment as he realizes that he does need rest and that he ended up letting himself get a bit too carried away with his husband. "Ah,right. I apologize,your intoxicating taste was too tempting~." Ford explains as the triangle then blushed from the comment. "Oh stop it. Now,sleep." Bill demands as the researcher complied and took off his sweater vest as well as his tie,only leaving his red collar shirt as he then laid beside the triangle who put on his own sleepwear in the form of a night cap with a snap of his fingers. Ford then shut his eyes as he embraced the triangle who turned off the light with a finger snap,with him shutting his own eye as well as the two went to sleep. Only Bill didn't fall asleep,he stayed up thinking about how he could make it up to his genius since he outright caused his mind to be shattered with the constant memory erasure. But then he had an idea. 'I feel terrible for basically breaking Fordsy's mind with the memory erasing. I need to make it up to him,even if he doesn't know why i'll be doing it. I need to make him happy,i need to fix this even for a little bit. Aha. I'll plan a day just for him,with all of his favorite things and favorite places. a Perfect Day in the Perfect World.' Bill thought to himself as he then let himself rest,planning to wake up early in order to plan out the day for his beloved.

The following day,Bill wakes up and slowly moves away from his genius' arms as the man continues sleeping while being unaware of his husband's great plan for him. He then goes over to the kitchen and summons all of Ford's favorite breakfast dishes such as jellybean cereal nutella waffles cream and strawberry crepes et cetera. Then he books a science museum a space observatory for stargazing a taxidermy center for extinct cryptid specimens and various other nerdy places for his genius. And a gift in the form of a light show that'll activate with a snap of his fingers,the light show will draw out Ford's favorite constellation "William" onto the sky via his flames. Plus he had Fiddleford deal with the company's duties for now,thus leaving the Oregon Institute of Oddology to the hillbilly and giving Ford a day off. Now that everything is done and all planned out,the triangle then waits for his researcher husband to wake up as he sat there in his chair at the kitchen while looking through the man's Journals to pass the time.

After about three hours of waiting,Ford finally wakes up at 8am as he yawns and stretches while walking down the spiral stairs. Bill grins as his eye shines brightly from being overjoyed to see his beloved as the man tiredly waves at him while smiling as he sits down in his chair. "Good morning,my dear muse.." Ford says groggily as he slumps his head on the table,not yet realizing the copious amounts of breakfast that the triangle has prepared for him. "Good morning,Fordsy!. How did you sleep?." Bill asks in a chipper tone,excited to spend the day with his beloved. "I slept well.. Still a bit tired though.. But i'm happy to see you." Ford replied as he then smiled at the triangle as he then walked over to hug him,kissing him on the forehead as he put him in a tight embrace as Bill blushed.

The man then noticed the several plates of breakfast littering the table,as he realized that they're all his favorite dishes while still hugging his husband. "My muse,you did all of this for me?." Ford questions as he eyed the various dishes on the table. "Yup!. They're all for you. And i have more surprises planned for today,as i want to give you a day off with just us since i noticed how stressed you were yesterday." Bill explains as the researcher's eyes widen in shock as he then lightly chuckles from the triangle's grand gesture. "I'm glad that you're always thinking of me. I'm happy to have you as my partner,Bill." Ford remarks as he smiled while the isosceles smiled back. "Of course. I love you Fordsy and i'll take any opportunity to show it. And me too. Now eat up,we have a big day ahead of us." Bill replied as the genius nods as he then let go of his beloved as he sat back in his chair to eat the glorious feast the triangle has prepared for him while his triangular husband watches him with an adoring eye.

Ford finishes his food after a while and Bill offers to do the dishes for him despite the fact that he could easily snap the plates back to normal,the genius wanted to do it but Bill insisted that he let him do something for him since he compromises so much for him so Ford let him. After that,the married couple have a blast at the Gravity Falls Science Museum and finish enjoying all of the exhibits before noon as Bill happily listened to Ford ramble about each one according to their topics. By the time noon comes around,Bill and Ford have lunch at a fancy restaurant elsewhere in Oregon where the triangle insists that he let the man choose every dish since the day is for him after all and he obliged as they have a wonderful meal while discussing the past stories they had together. They then go stargazing at the Portland Observatory and the couple have fun naming every constellation together while Ford teased Bill every time he got one wrong,they stayed there until they realized it was evening/late afternoon. Then Bill took him to the Salem Taxidermy Center to look at a bunch of extinct cryptid taxidermy specimens,where Ford happily studied and rambled about every exhibit. The two then went to the other nerdy places that Bill booked for them both,spending time together while not caring about how late at night it was. Then before they went home,the two had fun talking at a bar while getting absolutely inebriated although more so Ford than Bill as the man decided to use his de-atomizer gun to vaporize the members of a bar fight there in his drunken stupor. He would've killed literally everyone there if Bill hadn't intervened and by intervened i mean he reversed the vaporizing bar fight with his new ability to control time itself.

Bill then had to take a very drunk Ford back to their condo before the man killed anyone else with his de-atomizer gun,with him carrying the man bridal style while floating back home as the genius incoherently rambled about how much he loved the triangle. "I love you,Bill." Ford remarks as he absentmindedly poked the isosceles' bowtie a few times while still being carried. "Fordsy,this is the billionth time you've said that." Bill says in slight annoyance as he kept floating back to their condo. "I know,but it's true. You deserve to *hic* hear it more than once~." Ford teases as the triangle blushes in response. He then recalls how much fun he had with his beloved muse the whole day,smiling at the thought of his husband doing all of that for him despite the fact that a mere mortal like him is unworthy of such treatment (Ford ur secret insecurities are showing).

"Why did *hic* you do this for me?. The whole day i mean. Besides wanting to spend time with me without any work in the way " Ford asks,genuinely curious about his beloved's reasoning for planning such a fantastic day as the triangle arrives in front of the condo only to stop to respond to his genius. "Well,i wanted to make you happy. Since that.. problem regarding your broken mind upset you,and me,both of us really. I wanted to give us both a break from dealing with that." Bill explains as he then put the man down,putting him in a side hug in order to stop him from stumbling. "Oh.. But my muse,you already make me happy just by being here with me." Ford replied,a little saddened by the thought of his dearest feeling obligated to fix things because of that unstable mind of his but he appreciated his efforts regardless. "I know. But i wanted to plan a special day for my special man anyway~." Bill flirts as the man blushed in response.

"Ah. I'm so glad that you notice whenever i'm upset,and that you do everything in your power to make it better. You're a wonderful husband,Bill." Ford says as he smiled at the triangle,who smiled back at him. "I know. Now let's go home and talk a little bit about our fun day before going to bed. And maybe get a little frisky~." Bill teased as the genius blushed even deeper,although this time the redness of his face isn't coming from the alcohol and rather from the arousal he felt from the thought of getting to be pleasured by his muse again after a while of not being able to feel the triangle's hands on him due to his CEO work. "O-Okay. As you wish,my dearest husband." Ford remarks as the triangle then helped him walk back to their house but then Bill remembered that he had another surprise left for his genius so he stopped floating as he then snapped his fingers,the "William" constellation being drawn out in the night sky with his flames as the man looks up in awe. "Ta-da!. It's your favorite,the constellation that looks a lot like a certain charming triangle~. I decided to show it to you since you can't see it normally anymore with the clouds and all." Bill explains as the man then kissed him on the cheek as thanks as he then blushed gold. "Thank you,my dear muse. For all of the wonderful surprises you gave me today,including this one." Ford replied as he then smiled at Bill,who grinned back at him.

"You're welcome,Fordsy. I love you." Bill remarks as the man embraced him. "I love you too. We should go home now. I'm hungry for a steak dinner,and for you~." Ford teases as the triangle blushed even deeper than his genius was as he knew what the man meant by that,then they kept walking back to the condo as Bill summoned a steak dinner while not being able to wait to fuck Ford as he desperately fidgeted in his chair. The man chuckles as he saw how antsy his dear muse was,making sure to eat up fast so that he won't wait for long. He then finished up his steak as Bill snapped his fingers to reverse the plates back to their clean state,then he quickly teleported him and Ford to the bedroom while then removing the man's clothes with a snap of his fingers. The triangle eyed the man hungrily as Ford blushed and panted at the thought of being touched by his beloved again after a while of not experiencing his hands on his member due to work,with Bill chuckling as the genius already wet the bed when he hasn't touched him yet. Bill then put his finger on the man's lips to signal him to quiet down his whimpers,while looking at him slyly as he knew that they're going to he at this for a while.

[obsessedwithjasonvoorhees]

lesson 3

shouldnt have had nick over ig!!

[swampstew]

Killer, I-30 ~ Cum Eating

Summary: Hiking through the ancient lands of old and you get to experience a rite of passage - staying overnight in a real life wilderness hut - that will keep you safe from deadly terrors and beasts during the night. Does it work?

Warnings: Spicy, modern monster au, Killer as Biasd Bheulach with female reader, risky sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), failed pull out method and cum eating, dead dove do not eat for ending cause murder is implied. Word Count: 863

Biasd Bheulach is a monster or spirit that supposedly haunts Odal Pass on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. It is said to be a nocturnal shapeshifter, sometimes a man, sometimes a beast. It’s believed to be the source of the frightful shrieks and outcries heard in the night. If you’ve ever asked what’s hiding in the dark, don’t be surprised to hear it’s the Beast of Odal Pass. There are accounts of travelers claiming to have been attacked by the beast as they traveled through the night. One alleged victim was found dead on the roadside with gory wounds. There have been few actual accounts of what the creature looks like so it is generally advised not to travel at night.

The handsome stranger had flirted with you all night and you had fallen for his charm. His big, muscled body was a delight to look at, his long and gorgeous mane of hair was enchanting, and every time you caught a peek of his crystal blue eyes, you could feel yourself swoon. Like a fairy tale prince handsome.

You and your friend group had been hiking through the land when it began to grow dark. And once the deep hue cleared the sky you’re spines prickled with fear when you heard wild shrieking that nearly sounded like laughter. Crazed laughter.

Finding a local wilderness hut, called a Bothy, your group tread quickly to the basic shelter in the hopes to avoid whatever that foul sound was. When you crossed the threshold none of you expected to find it already occupied by the handsome stranger. He introduced himself and explained he sought shelter when he heard the howling shrieks. He lived in the next town over and was travelling by foot but decided that for safety he would spend the night.

His name was hard to pronounce and didn’t have an easily international equivalent, so he settled for Killer when your friend’s boyfriend called him drop dead gorgeous. Killer was kind, gentle and well-articulated. It was easy to get along with him and feel comfortable around him quickly. Between the four of you, you had food and water for about a day and a half.

Killer informed everyone that there was a fresh water stream nearby and offered to go with her boyfriend, but your friend insisted she would go with as there was no bathroom in the shelter, just a spade to dig in the dirt.

As soon as you were left alone with him, he pounced. You eagerly accepted his brazen advances and soon you were both rushing towards the shoddy second story loft space for privacy. Despite the…rugged…quality of the shelter, it served is purpose.

You were writhing in pleasure as Killer removed his thick, calloused fingers out of your weeping cunt. You whimpered at him with pleading eyes and gave him a satisfied hum when he unbuckled his pants. He fucked you raw and you loved every second of it. Dripping in sweat and huffing the humid air with each breath you shared as he pistoned into you and harshly bit where your shoulder met your neck. With a cry, your pussy throbbed and clamped on his cock making him grunt loudly, panting through grit teeth as his hips stuttered.

“Sh-shit!” you heard him moan as he pulled out, jerking himself over your body and covering you with white. You closed your eyes as you felt the warmth splatter against your skin, your hips shifted and you realized you could feel warmth dripping down between your thighs.

“Did you—?” you asked quietly.

“Eh I might have, sorry don’t think I pulled out fast enough. Don’t worry I’ll clean you up, just sit back and get comfortable, this won’t take long.”

Confused, you laid on your back as he lifted your thighs over his shoulder. He buried his tongue into your pussy and you let out a squeal. You felt the muscle work your core, licking your walls clean, licking your ass cheeks and inner thighs clean as well. You were in a daze as he left your core, trailing his tongue up your torso as he thrusted his fingers into your pussy once more. Pumping you as he licked clean the mess he made on you.

When he cleaned the last drop, his fingers worked overtime causing your final orgasm to strike you like lightning. He swallowed your screams as your pussy crushed his fingers, pumping you through the intense rocking that wallowed in your body as you rode the train of ecstasy. You don’t remember anything else from the night, except one final moment as sleep dragged you to its depths, the way he looked at you with almost guilt as he kissed your forehead.

Quietly murmuring, “If only in a different life.”

You remembered wanting to ask him what he meant when you woke up. However, you awoke to a nightmare. Walking groggily down the steps, your movement faltered when you realized the Bothy had been destroyed from the inside out. No trace of your friend, her boyfriend, or Killer.

All that was left was splatters and puddles of blood strewn about the ruined interior.

5 tiles to go, 59 calls made so far.

[daisynik7]

Hanging by a Thread

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (please heed content warnings as this chapter contains potentially triggering content - violence, dialogue that suggests SA, blood)

Word Count: ~6.5k

cw: angst, underaged drinking, dialogue that suggests SA, violence, blood, canon divergent, explicit language, suggestive sexual content, switching POVs (2nd and 3rd person)

Summary: After leaving the Tokyo Manji Gang, Mitsuya feels like his life is on the right track. They have their fearless leader Mikey back to his usual self and Mitsuya’s relationship with Hana grows stronger day by day. They graduate, ready for the next big step in their lives. But with everything said and done, the past will always haunt the brothers of Toman, for better and for worse.  

Author’s Note: I know this is a drastic change in tone from this otherwise romantic plot. However, this is how I’ve always imagined the story to play out, so I apologize if I’ve blindsided you by this dramatic turn! Thanks for all the support I’ve gotten so far on this. Please let me know what you think in the comments.

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“Takashi Mitsuya!” 

Despite his request to them earlier in the week to not cause a ruckus, his friends and family are the most obnoxious bunch during the graduation ceremony. From the stage, he spots Draken standing with Mana sitting on his shoulders, the both of them hollering as Emma attempts to quiet them down. Mikey is next to her, lifting Luna up by the armpits, who’s yelling enthusiastically with her tiny hands surrounding her mouth to emphasize her cheers. Mitsuya’s mom, dressed in her best kimono, cries into a wad of tissues, unable to contain her happiness. 

Today, he’s an official high school graduate. He bows politely to his homeroom teacher and the principal before accepting his diploma, holding it gingerly in his hands like a prized possession. He never imagined feeling this way about a simple piece of paper, yet here he is, the proudest he’s ever been of himself. He beams at his cheering squad, then at Hana, who’s seated in their student section. She winks at him, cheeks round and eyes shining, clapping emphatically. He blinks away tears, in disbelief that this is all actually happening. His dreams have become a reality. 

When it’s Hana’s turn shortly after, his friends and family are up on their feet once more, shouting their encouragements for her, enough for everyone in the audience to hear. Mitsuya peeps Hana’s parents, standing up and clapping. Her father glances to the back, his expression wary for a split-second, then he smiles proudly at his daughter walking the stage. 

Since he formally left the gang, Hana’s father has relented his stance for them to break up. While there is still that awkward tension between them, there is no longer animosity, and Mitsuya considers this good progress. He’ll continue to work hard to prove to Mr. Shimizu, and to himself, that he’s capable of being the loving, supportive boyfriend that Hana deserves.

When the last student’s name is read and the traditional graduation song is sung, they file into their homeroom for one last class with their teacher, who congratulates them with high praise. It’s during all this hustle and bustle that the couple find a sliver to time for themselves, holding hands in the back of the classroom, squeezing each other lovingly. They sneak in a kiss while everyone else is distracted, and for this fleeting moment, it’s the two of them in their own little world. 

Soon, there’s more commotion when they’re all dismissed to prolong the festivities in the courtyard. Mitsuya joins his mother and sisters to take pictures. Luna and Mana wear the dresses he made for them specifically for special occasions, making his heart swell more than it already has. He poses for more photos with his Toman brothers and Emma, who rib him for being a “nerd with a diploma”. 

Hana’s mom approaches them first, introducing herself to Mitsuya’s mother and crouching down to meet his sisters. Mr. Shimizu does the same, the usual tension in his brow apparent. They all come together for a group photo, Hana and Mitsuya in the middle, his hand on her waist keeping her close, the two of them surrounded by loved ones. “I love you,” he whispers to her. It’s a picture-perfect memory that he’ll never forget. 

The two of them part ways, agreeing to celebrate separately with their own families. Draken and Emma graciously host, serving a homecooked feast courtesy of the father-to-be, who prepared special dishes to honor the new grad, including the nostalgic beef karubi-don from when they first met as kids. Others join them, including Takemitchy, Hina, Hakkai, his sister Yuzuha, and Chifuyu. Their apartment is filled to the brim with people celebrating Mitsuya’s accomplishments. When it’s time for Luna’s and Mana’s bedtime, his mother bids them all farewell, making sure to warn her son, “Don’t get too crazy tonight, okay?”

“I won’t,” he assures her, kissing her on the forehead, waiting for them to board the bus, waving at the window as they head home. 

He returns to the apartment, kitchen counter now stacked with bottles of liquor, ready to be consumed. Hakkai is halfway through a beer when he embraces Mitsuya jovially. “You are the fucking man, Takashi! I want to be you when I grow up!” 

Yuzuha, who graduates in a week, pats her brother’s back, laughing. “It’s a too late for that, don’t you think? You’re a high-school dropout.”

“It’s never too late for anything!” he slurs, tipping the remaining alcohol into his mouth. 

She rolls her eyes, prying him off Mitsuya. “Don’t make me take care of you when you get drunk.”

“Too late!” he hiccups, skipping into the kitchen to retrieve another, where she follows him, annoyed.

Mitsuya chuckles, amused by the two siblings and their usual banter. He examines the room, noting how all the most important people in his life are by his side, despite no longer being in Toman. Draken sips on a sparkling water, refraining from drinking alcohol in solidarity with his pregnant girlfriend, who sits on the couch with a sober Hina, gossiping. Mikey torments Takemitchy and Chifuyu in a game of Mario Kart on the television. An unusual sense of peace washes over him, and though he’s surrounded by his friends, he finds himself missing Hana immensely, wishing he could share this sentiment with her. 

There’s a knock on the door and his wishes are miraculously granted. She steps inside the apartment, donned in her favorite jean jacket, the one with the heart they stitched together on the sleeve. Her gaze immediately meets his and they reunite in a big hug. “What are you doing here?” he asks, surprised and elated. 

“Emma texted me and told me you were still celebrating,” she explains. “We finished dinner early and my parents told me it was okay to see you.”

“I’m so happy you’re here. I missed you.”

“You really can’t go a few hours without me?” she teases, nuzzling her nose to his. 

“No, I can’t,” he admits, completely serious. He kisses her, instantly melting into her lips.

“Oi! Get a room, you fucking perverts!” Draken calls out, smirking. Emma and Hina giggle as Mitsuya flips the bird at his Twin Dragon.

They don’t partake in any drinking tonight, Mitsuya already love drunk and Hana too afraid to get caught by her parents later when she goes back home. Nonetheless, the party is full of merriment, especially when Mikey suggests karaoke. 

Past midnight, Hana rests her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder, fingers laced seamlessly, listening to Takemitchy perform a particularly heartfelt ballad to Hina. Most of the others have left, except for Mikey, who nods along to the music, and Chifuyu, who finishes off the cake they had for dessert, eating it straight from the box. Draken sits on the other side of the couch with Emma’s head on his lap, sleeping soundly to the tone-deaf warbles of Takemitchy’s voice. His hand gently massages her pregnant belly. 

Before it gets too late, Mitsuya and Hana say their farewells to their friends. They ride the near empty streets of Tokyo on his bike, enjoying the bright lights as they whiz through the city. She holds him closely, her warmth a comfort he’ll never take for granted now that he has it. They park a couple houses down from hers, kissing each other under the stars until they’re breathless. He walks her to the front door, sneaking one more kiss, wishing her a good night, already missing her once she’s inside. And although he has plans to see her again later for the festival, it isn’t soon enough. 

There’s this perfect balance that Mitsuya has somehow achieved amidst the chaos of being a delinquent. He’s always struggled to find that until Hana came into his life and changed it for the better. She gave him a reason to do something different in his life, to accomplish the dreams he had so often deemed impossible to attain. He can’t imagine a future without her now. 

He doesn’t know yet how quickly it can all change in a flash. 

~~~

There’s always this rush you wake up to in the mornings, a feeling that blossoms in your chest, has you staring up at the ceiling with a soft smile on your face. And it has everything to do with Takashi Mitsuya. 

It’s the way he greets you with a cute good morning text without fail, always the early bird to prepare breakfast for his sisters. You’ll never get tired of seeing his name on your screen, opening your notifications to read his message. Evidence that your love for one another exists, palpable and tangible. Not a dream you have to wake up from, but a reality you’re lucky enough to wake up to. You grin at his text, accompanied by a selfie of him, Luna, and Mana, posing with fluffy pancakes on their plates. This is the life you get to live now, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

His mother has this weekend off and plans to take the girls to their grandparent’s until Sunday, leaving Mitsuya free to attend the local festival tonight. It’s one more celebration before you start university later in the week. Another opportunity to make more special memories with him to add to the collection. 

You were dreading graduation, unsure what will happen to your relationship. School became a welcomed part of your routine, mostly because it gave you the chance to see Takashi on a regular basis. However, yesterday made all your concerns fade. It became clear to you that being with Takashi is as easy as breathing. You don’t need to think about it. The two of you find all the little ways you can be with each other. A lingering glance in the middle of a crowded auditorium, a secret kiss in the back of the classroom, holding hands at a party with their friends. A picture with your two worlds together to prove that all of this is real, that this love is real. You laugh at yourself for being worried over nothing.

You head downstairs, dressed casually with your tote bag hanging off your shoulder where your yukata is tucked neatly inside for later. Takashi invited you to his house before the festivities start, giving the two of you some much needed alone time. Your parents sit on the couch, watching one of their favorite cooking shows on TV. You approach them, sticking your head between theirs from behind. “I’m heading out now,” you announce, giving them both a smooch on the cheek.

Your mother smiles at you. “Have fun at the festival, dear.”

“Be careful,” you dad mutters, staring straight ahead. 

“I will. I love you.”

“We love you too, honey. And tell Takashi we say hello!” she adds, returning to her program. Your father snorts, making you chuckle. He hasn’t quite warmed up completely to your boyfriend, but it’s definitely progress. 

You take your time during the stroll to Takashi’s, enjoying the crisp air of the welcoming spring season. Sakura blooms around you, soft pink petals falling slowly until they paint the ground in their beautiful pink color. You make it to his house, knocking on his door twice, excited to see him. When he answers, you immediately launch forward to give him a hug. 

He laughs, squeezing you tightly. “Hi sweetie.”

“I missed you,” you say, burying your face into his collarbone.

“Now who’s the one who can’t go a few hours without me?”

You pout. “Yeah, you got me there.”

He laughs harder, scattering sweet smooches all over your face. “You’re the absolute cutest, you know that?"

The two of you cuddle on the couch, indulging in your favorite snacks while watching a movie that you barely pay attention to. Instead, you focus on Takashi’s lips on yours, his usually steady breathing becoming uneven as you deepen your kisses. His hands explore your body, slipping beneath your blouse to graze the plush skin of your belly, inching closer and closer to your bosom.

“Takashi,” you whisper, tugging at the collar of his shirt, unsure if you want him to keep it on or off, leaning towards the latter. You haven’t had sex yet, though you’ve gotten excruciatingly close to it, especially in heats of the moment like this. 

He pulls back, removing himself from you, blushing. “I’m sorry. We should…we should get ready now,” he murmurs, running his hand through his hair, catching his breath. Before you can respond, he stands up and rushes into his room, closing the door. 

You sit up on the couch, confused and concerned. You don’t want to stop. You want this. You want him.

“Takashi?” You tap your knuckles gently on the door, which is ajar and not shut all the way like you expected. 

“Come in,” he answers. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows to his knees, head bowed, like he’s ashamed. 

“Takashi,” you repeat, taking a seat beside him. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want to do it if you’re not ready. I just…can’t control myself with you.” 

You pull him close. “Then don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t control yourself.” You kiss him, placing his hands on you, giving him full rein. “Make love to me, Takashi. I’m ready. I want it.”

“Baby,” he gasps, kissing you back eagerly. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?” 

“Yes.” You lift your arms for him to hoist your top off. “Absolutely sure.”

It’s clumsy and messy, even a bit uncomfortable at first. But Takashi is careful with you the whole way, takes his time treasuring you as if you’re the most delicate, precious jewel he’s ever held in his hands. And while it feels good to be this physically intimate with him, it’s the way he looks at you that makes this more special. He doesn’t say it; you see it in his eyes. You’re safe with him, you always will be.

You snuggle in bed, gazing at each other with goofy grins on your faces. He cups your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb, unable to contain his smile. He turns to reach for his phone on the nightstand, checking the time. “I guess we should start getting ready,” he suggests, clearly more comfortable being here than anywhere else. 

“We still have tonight. After the festival,” you mention, trying to sound nonchalant. 

He tickles you under your chin, covering you in smooches. “You naughty girl! You really can’t get enough of me, huh?”

You giggle, putting in minimal effort to shrug him off. Honestly, you’re completely content with the idea of spending the night in with Takashi, then you remember the commitments you made to your friends who are expecting you. Eventually, you both get up to slip into comfortable clothes underneath your yukatas, appropriate attire for the occasion. As you inspect your reflection in the mirror, Takashi stands behind you, his hands on your waist, his mouth grazing the back of your neck. “You’re beautiful.” 

“You are too.” You reach behind you to pat his head, noticing something hanging from your sleeve. “Oh no, there’s a loose thread,” you point out, showing it him.

He examines at it carefully, tugging on it. “It’s not too bad,” he reassures you, giving you a peck on the cheek. “I’ll fix it later.”

When you’re ready to leave, you hop on the back of Takashi’s impulse with the helmet on your head, bunching the robe up your legs. He does the same, starting the ignition and driving off. It’s another lovely night, the bitter cold of winter replaced with the warm breath of spring. Everything seems so perfect when the two of you are together; maybe this is what people mean when they talk about being in the honeymoon phase. It may not be perfect forever, but to be able to experience it in the first place is enough for you. You’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and it’s all thanks to Takashi Mitsuya. 

You arrive about half an hour later than you said you would. Draken is the first to spot you, beckoning the two of you with a wave. Emma has her arm linked to his while Takemitchy and Emma hold hands next to them, everyone adorned in yukatas. They don’t question why you’re tardy, though you catch Draken nudging Takashi in the ribs, snickering. 

Mei and Keiko are also here; you retrieve your phone from your purse, texting them that you’ve arrived. They’re quick to respond, sending you their location so that you can meet with them. This seems like a great opportunity to introduce them to your new gal pals, so you, Emma, and Hina bid farewell to your partners.

Takashi smiles at you. “Have fun. I love you.”

You kiss him sweetly. “I love you, too.”

Draken points into his open mouth, faking a gag, while the two girls coo at how cute the two of you are. Your boyfriend gives you a wink, watching you leave with the girls. 

It doesn’t take long to find your friends, who are waiting at the carnival games for you. They introduce themselves to Hina and Emma, hitting it off right away when they compliment each other on their yukatas. Together, you make your way to the food stalls, everyone craving something different. Hina and Emma decide to stand in one of the longest lines for fresh strawberry mochi, which the soon-to-be mother claims is what the baby craves. Mei and Keiko have a hankering for okonomiyaki while you are undecided, wanting to peruse your options. “I don’t know what I want yet, so I’m going to keep looking around,” you tell them.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Keiko asks, concerned.

You nod. “Of course! I won’t be gone long. These two will probably be stuck here another half hour.”

“Maybe, but at least we’ll have delicious mochi in our bellies,” Emma teases, sticking her tongue out at you. 

You laugh, waving goodbye to them, setting off to explore on your own. At the third booth, you find a menu item that catches your eye. While you read the description, you’re bumped by someone from the back. Startled, you glance at the stranger behind you, the gold glint on his wire-framed glasses glaring amidst the festival lanterns. 

“Sorry about that,” he says, not sounding apologetic at all. It’s an unfamiliar voice, one you don’t recognize. Still, you have a sick feeling in your gut that something’s not right about this. In fact, something is terribly wrong. 

Nervous, you focus on the menu in front of you, avoiding him. “It’s okay,” you mutter, not really meaning it.

He continues to stand there, encroaching on your personal space. You can feel his eyes bore into you, watching you intensely. “Hana Shimizu. It’s you.” It isn’t a question, he doesn’t need a confirmation. He knows exactly who you are, as if he’s been seeking you out. Takashi’s Toman crash course from a few weeks ago replays in your mind and it’s now that you realize the man currently stalking you is Tetta Kisaki. Your heart races, terror stuck in your throat. You don’t respond to him, praying with every fiber of your being that he goes away, leaves you alone, as long as you ignore him.

His body presses against you, his mouth stifling on your ear as he whispers, “It’s dangerous to be out alone like this. Isn’t your boyfriend aware of that?”

You’re frozen in fear, feet rooted to the ground, unable to move. Trembling, you ask, “What do you want?” You desperately search for the vendor behind the table, who’s too busy speaking to another customer to aid you in your panic.

“I just want to talk. In private.” He grabs your wrist, holding you firmly.

“I’ll scream,” you threaten him, with as much conviction as you can muster at this point. 

He barks a harsh laugh. “Kinky. I can see why Mitsuya likes you so much.” His grip tightens, enough for you to start losing circulation. “But you won’t. Because if you do, Shuji will do exactly what he wants with those stupid friends of yours. He has his eye on sweet Keiko. He might try her out first.”

“No!” You face him, tears in your eyes, pleading with him. “Leave them alone. Please. I’ll…I’ll go with you as long as you don’t hurt them.”

His eyes narrow, the awful grin on his face widening. “Good girl.” Without taking his gaze off you, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, holding it to his ear. “I got her. Let’s go.”

You swallow thickly, resisting the urge to vomit as he leads you through the crowd of people who have no clue the danger you’re in. 

~~~

The festival is huge, one of the biggest in the district. There are food vendors on either side of the fairgrounds and the boys happen to be on the opposite end where the girls are. Mitsuya stands between Draken and Takemitchy, all three of them munching on takoyaki they stood twenty minutes in line for. When Takemitchy spits one out because it’s scorching hot, they laugh at him, giving him some of theirs to replace it.

“So,” Draken muffles, mouth full of food, “did you and Hana finally fuck?”

Takemitchy nearly chokes on another octopus ball, outraged by his friend’s lack of tact. “Draken! You can’t just ask him that!”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Why not? They were obviously late. Might as well have a good reason for it.”

Mitsuya chuckles. “It’s okay. I’ve learned a long time ago to accept this dude’s crude behavior.”

“So, I’m right, aren’t I? You two…” This time, Draken makes a fist in one hand, then pokes into it with his finger, deciding this obscene gesture was more appropriate.

Mitsuya smiles to himself, remembering it fondly. “Yeah, we did.”

“That’s my fucking boy!” Draken beams at him proudly. “How was it?”

“Draken!”

The younger boy is ignored while Mitsuya muses, “Amazing. She’s amazing. I love her so much.”

Draken jokes, “Damn, Taka. At this rate, Ken Junior might have a friend to grow up with.”

“No, no. We were safe.” He stares down at his shoes, still smiling. “I mean, that wouldn’t be the worst thing. I’d love to have a family with her someday.”

Takemitchy gawks at him. “Mitsuya, you’re really serious about her!”

He nods. “I’m seriously in love with her, yeah.”

When they’re about finished with their food, Mitsuya’s phone vibrates in his pocket. “It’s Emma,” he announces, confused. He picks up, and without waiting for a greeting, she asks, “Is Hana with you?” She sounds distraught.

“No. Why?”

“Oh my god,” she gasps, inaudible as she hands the phone off to someone else. 

It’s Hina now, shaky though a tad calmer than Emma. “We can’t find her. She’s not answering her phone.” She gulps loudly. “Mei and Keiko said that Hanma introduced himself to them at one of the booths. Gave them really weird vibes.”

At the mention of his name, Mitsuya’s heart sinks and panic immediately sets in. It’s his worst nightmare coming true. “Is Kisaki there?”

Keiko answers in the background, “Yes, he mentioned being here with his friend Kisaki. Mitsuya, what’s going on?”

Without thinking, he tosses the cell to Draken, who catches it, a concerned expression on his face. “Takashi, what’s wrong?”

“They took Hana!” he yells out, making a dash for the exit.  

“Who did?” They trail right behind him, doing their best to keep up in their robes. 

“Hanma and Kisaki!” he shouts, sprinting faster. 

“Those motherfuckers,” Draken curses, putting the phone in his pocket. “Takemitchy, stay with the girls. Keep a lookout for Hana and for those assholes!”

“Got it,” Takemitchy responds, changing course to follow his new orders. 

The Twin Dragons reach the parking lot, splitting up to hop on their own motorcycles. Draken rides his Zephyr next to Mitsuya, waiting to follow him wherever he goes. When he puts his helmet on, Mitsuya can hear his own blood pounding against his eardrums. His stomach turns with dread. How could he have let this happen? 

Suddenly, Draken cuts the engine off, reaching into his back pocket to answer Mitsuya’s vibrating phone. He shows the screen to him, an unknown number displayed. He quickly grabs it from his friend’s grip, answering it without speaking, certain who it is.

“Hey there, Little Taka.”

He clenches his teeth at the sound of Kisaki’s voice. “Where is she?”

“You shouldn’t have left her alone. Shuji warned you someone would come along and take her.”

“Where is she?!” he yells, spit flying out of his mouth.

Mitsuya can practically hear the snide grid on Kisaki’s face when he sneers, “We didn’t take her far, don’t worry. Your friends will find her soon enough. I’m surprised they didn’t hear her screaming already – ”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Mitsuya seethes through ragged breaths. “I’ll fucking kill you and Hanma. Make you fucking regret what you did until you’re both rotting in fucking hell.”

The other man snorts, unvexed by the threat. “Consider this payback for not minding your own fucking business.” Before he hangs up, he mutters, “I guess I’ll see you in hell.” 

Mitsuya’s hands shake violently, his entire body convulsing in a fit of rage. Just as he’s about to slam his phone into the pavement, it vibrates once more, Hina’s name flashing across the screen. 

Her voice is quiet and solemn on the other line, fighting back a sob. “We found her.” 

~~~

Mitsuya isn’t sure how long it takes them to reach Hana. Five minutes, thirty, an hour. Whatever it is, it’s too late; the damage is done and he has to see it with his own eyes. She’s sprawled on the ground, her yukata undone with the sleeves torn, her clothes underneath shredded and roughed up. There are scratches all along her arms, as if she was dragged across the pavement of the alleyway they currently gather in, outside the festival grounds. Her lip is split, cheek swollen, her right eye puffy and bruised. Blood trickles from her brow line down her face. He can’t bear to look at her, heart breaking each passing second as he holds her limp body in his arms, cradling her delicately. She’s unconscious, but breathing, and it’s the only solace he finds in this nightmare come true. He doesn’t realize that he’s screaming until Draken pulls his face into his chest to muffle his anguished cries, distracting him while the paramedics lay her out on a stretcher.  

It's all a blur, his memory in fragments. Draken shoving him in the backseat of Hina’s car. Keiko and Emma consoling him while he sobs, “It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault!” over and over again. Mei in the passenger seat, breaking the news to Hana’s parents, barely able to keep her composure. They make it to the hospital, Draken and Takemitchy following soon after on motorcycle. None of the girls can get Mitsuya out, so the two Toman brothers hoist him up by their shoulders and drag him inside the waiting room. 

When her parents arrive, Mrs. Shimizu is in hysterics, immediately demanding the staff to lead her to her daughter. Mr. Shimizu marches directly to Mitsuya, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him against the wall, hard. “This is your fault, you son of a bitch! You let this happen!”

Mitsuya doesn’t try to defend himself because he’s right; this is his fault. “I’m sorry,” he stutters, unsure what else to say. “I’m so sorry.”

Draken attempts to separate them while Takemitchy pleads with Mr. Shimizu, “Please, sir! It’s not his fault!”

Ignoring them, he snarls, “She should have never given you a chance! You ruined her life, you good-for-nothing thug!” He loosens his grip, wrestling away from Draken’s hold. “Don’t ever come near my family again,” he threatens, following his wife past the double doors leading into the ER. 

Mitsuya slides down the wall, tucking his head between his knees, bawling into his hands. He hasn’t stopped sinking into this darkness since she went missing, an abyss he didn’t even realized existed. 

Draken kneels besides him. “Hey man, don’t listen to him. It’s not your fault.”

“No, he’s right,” he snivels. “I ruined her life.” 

Takemitchy and Hina chime in with their own words of comfort, but nothing they say will make any of this better. Eventually, they leave him alone while they wait for any updates on Hana’s condition. 

Only the sound of Mr. Shimizu’s voice brings Mitsuya back to reality. He glances up, noticing him talking to Mei and Keiko as they follow him out, presumably to take them home. Emma is asleep on Draken’s shoulder while Hina has her boyfriend’s head on her lap, massaging his temples.

Suddenly, Mrs. Shimizu pokes her head through the doors. her eyes catching Mitsuya’s, her expression serious. She nods, beckoning him. He gets up and follows her through the hallway of the ward in uneasy silence. Finally, she says, “Hana is still unconscious, but stable. I thought maybe you’d like to see her.” 

He stares down at the linoleum tiles beneath his feet, his entire body moving in auto-pilot. Still, he manages to utter a quiet, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t expect forgiveness from her, not right now, maybe not ever. He can’t even forgive himself. 

She doesn’t respond to his apology. It’s quiet between them until she stops in front of an open door near the end of the hallway. “Five minutes,” she states sternly, looking directly at him. “You have five minutes to say what you want to say. After that, you leave. I don’t want you near our daughter ever again. Do you understand, Takashi?”

He nods, unable to look at her, biting back tears. 

“Five minutes,” she reminds him, stepping to the side to let him through. 

He forces his feet to move, slow languid steps into the dimly lit hospital room. Hana’s in a gown, the scratches on her arms covered in ointment and gauze, in the process of healing. Her head is bandaged up, stitches noticeable on her right eye socket, where she must have been punched. There’s an IV and heart rate monitor attached to her, beeping steadily. He studies the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, ashamed to feel relief at a moment like this. She’s stable. She’s alive.

Three minutes into his allotted time frame, he finds the will to speak. His throat is sore from screaming, his voice coming out in rasp. “You didn’t deserve this,” he starts, already sniffling. “This should have never happened to you. I’m so sorry, Hana.” He takes a step closer, carefully placing his hand on hers. “You have to forget about me. You have to find someone that will protect you the way I couldn’t.” 

Flipping her palm face up, he tugs off his earring, dropping it into her hand, closing it into a fist. “I love you.” He brushes his thumb against her, relishing her soft skin one last time. “I’ll always love you.”

He leaves promptly, his gait quicker than it’s been all night, a fury ignited in him that can only be dealt in one way: revenge. As soon as he returns to the waiting room, he approaches Draken. “Give me the keys.”

He refuses. “You can’t go like this, man. It’s not safe – ”

“Give me the fucking keys, Draken!” he yells, startling the others. 

Takemitchy tries to reason with him. “What do you think you’re going to do, Mitsuya? Kill them? Go to jail? Get yourself killed?”

“I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I’m going to make those two pay even if it does kill me.”

“You’re being crazy right now! Let’s wait until the morning to figure it out –”

“Please,” he begs, tone changing to one of desperation. “Just give me my keys.”

There’s a heavy pause. Finally, Draken sighs, reaching into his pocket and tossing them to him. “How are you going to find them?”

Mitsuya retrieves his phone. “They want to fight. All I have to do is tell them I’m ready for one.” He selects the unknown number at the top of his call list, typing out a simple message: Let’s settle this.

A minute later, he receives a response, a pin to a familiar location displayed without any additional message. Mitsuya scoffs, oddly amused at how easy it is. He knows the game Kisaki is trying to play. 

“This is crazy!” Takemitchy exclaims. “You can’t go there by yourself!”

“He’s not,” Draken says. “I’m going with him.”

Emma tugs him by the wrist. “Ken, are you sure?”

He kisses her on the forehead. “Don’t worry, sweetie. The Twin Dragons are gonna rough them up, enough to scare them off. I’ll make sure Mitsuya doesn’t do anything reckless.”

“Fine, then I’m coming too!” Takemitchy puffs his chest out bravely. 

Hina makes a noise in her throat, but Emma pats her back. “They’ll be fine, Hina. Toman boys always know how to handle business.”

~~~

The three of them head to the location, Mitsuya on his Impulse and Draken on his Zephyr with Takemitchy riding with him. They end up at the empty parking lot of his school, where they were just at yesterday for the graduation ceremony. He ignores the tragic irony behind this to focus his attention on the two men standing in the center of the lot under a lamplight. “This doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Hanma jeers, sauntering towards them with his hands in his pockets. “It’s three against two. We’re outnumbered.”

“You didn’t care about that when you attacked Hana,” Draken counters, scowling at them, clenching his fists.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, revealing a pocketknife, casually tossing it in the air to catch by the handle. “Oh well, we’re still going to kill all of you.” Hanma pounces first, throwing a dangerous jab at Draken, who dodges it smoothly, the blade barely grazing him. He launches a kick, sweeping his opponent by the ankle, knocking him to the ground.

Mitsuya homes in on Kisaki, running at him in a full sprint, wrestling him into the pavement. He’s stronger than him, especially on an adrenaline high like this. The mere thought of Hana covered in injuries sends him into a fury, his fists sinking into Kisaki’s face easily. What’s strange is that the other man doesn’t seem to want to fight back, taking each blow with a bloody smile. 

He wraps his hands around Kisaki’s throat, squeezing tight. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he shouts, disturbed by the persistent look of satisfaction on his face.

With a few teeth missing now, he smirks, voice barely a whisper as he chokes. “I told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d see you in hell.”

It’s too late to realize that Takemitchy is yelling his name, keeled over with blood leaking from his mouth. Too late to notice Draken is sprawled on the ground, a gash in his stomach that’s pooling crimson all over his yukata. As soon as Kisaki utters those words, Mitsuya is lifted back up to his feet, grabbed from behind. 

Hanma’s breath is hot on his ear, the blade cold against his throat. It’s cutting into his skin already; any slight movement and he’s dead. “She put up a pretty good fight, you know,” Hanma whispers into his ear. “Kicking and screaming the whole time. I had to drag her all the way into that alley before I could shut her up.” Then, he laughs, depraved and sinister, lacking any of joy or mirth. "Bet she’s just as feisty when you fuck her. If I had more time, I would have found out for myself.”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Mitsuya seethes through gritted teeth, every breath he takes making the knife dig deeper into his neck.  

Hanma’s cackle suddenly stops, his grip loosening on the weapon, causing it to fall to the ground. Mitsuya turns around to find Draken holding a knife, the blade stuck in Hanma’s back. 

“What the fuck…” Hanma stammers, blood sputtering out of his mouth, collapsing on top of Mitsuya, who catches him. Draken stumbles, his wound worsening by the second. Police sirens are blaring in the distance, and it’s only now that Mitsuya realizes that Kisaki is gone, driving away from the scene of the crime on his bike. 

Hanma continues to cough up blood, dying in Mitsuya’s arms. Takemitchy is beaten, but not as badly as Draken, whose injury could be fatal if not treated soon. In this split second that Mitsuya makes a decision, fond memories from his life play in his head like a movie in fast-forward. Luna’s first steps and Mana’s first words. His mom’s homemade cake for his seventh birthday. The day he reunited with Draken, finding out they both had dragons tattooed on their heads. The summer they found Toman with Mikey and the rest of his friends. The night he confessed to Hana and every day he’s had with her until tonight, when he had to say goodbye. I’ve had a good life, he thinks to himself. It’s a short one, but in the end, he’s lucky to have experienced it in the first place. Now, it’s time for him to return the favor to all the people who’s gotten him this far. 

“Takemitchy,” he calls out, removing his yukata and throwing it to his friend. “Take Draken’s bike and get him to a hospital. Wrap this around his wound so he doesn’t lose any more blood.”

He nods, obeying his orders and draping Draken’s arm over his shoulders, hobbling with him to the motorcycles. “Okay, we’ll see you there.”

Mitsuya shakes his head. “I’m not going.”

“What?”

The police sirens grow louder. “They’re going to wonder who did this. We can’t let them know it was Draken.”

“It was self-defense though!” Takemitchy argues.

“It doesn’t matter. They won’t let him off the hook for that. So, I’m going to take the fall for it. Watch after Luna, Mana, and Mom for me. And Hana. Please.”

Draken lifts his head slowly, clutching the robe against him, groaning in pain. “Fuck that. Come on, Takashi. Let’s go.”

“You’re going to be a great dad, Draken. And you’re going to do great things, Takemitchy. I’m sure of it.”

“We’re not leaving you behind!” 

In the distance, Mitsuya can see the flashing lights and they’re out of time. “Get out of here, now! Emma and Hina need you! Please!”

At the mention of their names, Takemitchy and Draken stiffen, not arguing any further.

“Get out of here!” he repeats, desperately pleading with them. 

Takemitchy rubs the tears away from his eyes, hauling Draken with him, who tries to protest, but is too weak. Mitsuya watches them leave on the Zephyr with a satisfied smile on his face, the sirens ringing loudly in his ears, finally at peace. 

[00queasy00]

tom: dont worry harry. remember, its not gay if the socks stay on 😈

harry: oh god 😰💦💦

[mrstsung]

Had a hard time falling back asleep so i drew some self ship smut. XD

Nothing explicit but heavily implied

Below cut anyways

Also btw this is mk11 shang tsung and/or mk 1995. Specifically mk11 but ya know.

Cw: smut. 18+

🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚💋💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍

Shang tsung taking his wife for the first time. You know consummating the marriage.

Nah this ain't the first fuck per say (let's not kid ourselves,if shang had an opportunity to fuck he would. Dont lie,i mean kombat be stressful,plus i don't think he's that picky. If you're horny,you're horny to him. And he's more than willing to oblige <3 >:3 but to me he's a "i only fuck my lover/love interest,otherwise I'd just masturbate. He has no time for "concubines" at least not anymore. Maybe when he served shao kahn or when he was "champion" or something like early outworld days. But now? Nah he's a busy man. Tournament master and running his isle of souls. Like i dunno to me shang's kinda also "if i like you,and you're also interested. Then shit honey,come over and get a taste of this Sorcerer's cock" type guy. I have hcs,so smutty hcs soon?). But the first fuck as his wife. Now lady tsung and lord shang tsung of the isle.

Ngl,the subtle smutty art and writing gets to me more. Hee hee

Oh you bet your ass shang tsung would be taking his sweet time with me.

I got ahead of myself. X3c

*hides face* ^/////^

Unf just hearing mk11 shang tsung tell me "good girl" makes me feel things. 😫🥺💖🥵💋

[hanasnx]

Hello! May I please request a smutty Han Solo x fem!Reader with prompt #11 and/or prompt #42 (I loooove daddy dom Han)?

prompt: #11 + #42

MINORS DNI 18+

prompt list | rules WC: 0.9k | CHARACTERS: han solo x f!reader WARNINGS: sexual content | implied smut | dom!han | kinks: size, daddy | arguing

"Are you serious?" the incredulous tone of HAN SOLO follows you as you march away from him. "Where do you think that little ass is goin'? We aren't done talkin', sweetheart." his condescension is unnecessary, but it conveys his exasperation. The thunder of his boots catch up to you, and a large hand reaches out, latching onto the back of your belt at your tailbone. Effortlessly, he arrests you, directing your body to a sunken doorway in this hall. The attendants of this base pass you by to perform their duties, and he points a finger in your face. "What's the attitude for, huh?" His finger turns on him, gesturing to his chest with a raise of his brows, "Did I do somethin'?"

"Typical!" you huff, throwing your arms into the air in an annoyed and defeated motion. You're tired of this, you don't want to explain things to him, you just want him to figure it out. He's supposed to be smart, isn't he? When you go to retreat, he palms your upper arm, drawing you right back where he wants you.

You regain your footing after your stumble, and he straightens, crossing his arms. "I ain't gonna chase you anymore, sister. Get it out now while you've got my ears."

When you reluctantly concede, and check each ways of the passage, you conclude you can't talk here. The door next to you gives you an idea, and with all your suspicious looking around Han gives you a questioning expression, pivoting his head to eye you from the side with a brow furrow and parted lips. You slam your hand against the door controls, sliding it open, and dragging him inside by his wrist. Once you're sealed in the safety of this small storage room, you round on him.

"You've ignored me every since we got to this stupid base, and as soon as you realize I'm mad at you— suddenly—" You gesture wildly. "you're interested! Then—"

"There's more?"

You scoff indignantly. "Yes, Han! There's more!"

He nods, cutting you off. "Oh, I get it. Okay—" It earns him a deep frown from you.

"—What? What do you get—?" you taunt, and he persists.

A shrug, a stupid pinch of his shoulder to his neck as he raises his voice to match yours, "I've been 'neglecting' you, right? That's what this is about? You're acting out like you need a good fuck!"

"Han!" you scold.

"Well, that's what you're tellin' me!" When he drops his arms and advances on you in a leisure lumber, you back up out of instinct.

"Don't you dare think you can touch me right now." you warn, but as usual Han sees right through an empty threat, your back against the shelving.

“C'mon. Be a good girl for daddy.” he condescends, "I'm giving you what you want. You'll feel better after, right? After daddy does his thing? Give it here." The annoyance is apparent in his responses. Once you're trapped against the shelving, he stoops. He towers over you, and in order to reach the space between your legs, he tips his body to the side. Defiantly, you twist your hips, jerking away from his hand. You don't like his attitude, or that he thinks he can just do whatever he wants, or how he makes fun of you, using your kink against you. "You gonna fight me for it? Sweets, we both know you can't hold out long. So jus' lemme get you off and we can put this whole thing behind us."

Something about an argument puts you over the edge with him. You've never conversed with anyone so frustrating, someone that brought this side out in you. You hate the way he solves problems, and you hate how sometimes when he solves these types of problems by getting you off that it's successful. Embarrassingly so. There's a part of you that wants to put him to work, but that won't fix everything. He has a shitty way of apologizing.

"Like I'd let you walk all over me and then act like it's all good after! Again!" you seethe through gritted teeth. You meet his gaze at eye-level with you, jutting your chin when you press your lips into a line.

"Why?" he plays dumb, but there's a knowing hint of a smile on his crooked mouth. "You're good at it."

Clearly, he'll need a different approach. With a cautious glance behind his shoulder at the door, he confirms it's not locked, which adds to his thrill. He sighs, adjusting his pants to accommodate his knees when he gets on them.

"At least let me check somethin'."

A sick sense of pride blooms in your chest at the sight of Han kneeling in front of you. He doesn't do it often, but you know where this is going. So you begrudgingly offer your hips to him.

"There, see?" he praises, thick fingers hooking in your bottoms to undo and tug them down. "Was that so hard? Let me do this right." Like a man would, he sucks on the tips of two of his fingers, cleaning them off before he wedges them between your thighs, swiping at your folds. You're slick. "That's what daddy thought. He's always right."

You shift forward, warning him wordlessly about his poor choice of words. The side of his nose scrunches charmingly in his amusement, his crooked grin spreading onto his handsome features. You denied yourself the possibility of smacking it right off. Still tentative, you won't widen your stance, and so he peels your pants further down to give you room to.

“Spread your legs for daddy, I want to see you.”

[chaoticgeminate]

The Saltwater Room (iv)

Summary: You’ve been a drifter across the sea for as long as you can remember, unwilling to stop and unwilling to settle, nervous to put down roots and trust others like you’d been taught growing up. Marcus grew up settled and happy, heartbreak led him to the sea and fate put him in your path.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (Implied smut but not detailed, mentions of experimentation, mentions of pirates, general survival violence like fighting off animals)

Notes and Warnings: AU based on the video game Raft, will feature some locations and themes of the game. This is NOT how you survive if you’re stranded at sea, please don’t use this as practical.

Series Masterlist | Year of Video Game AUs Masterlist

i've never felt so at home (5.2k)

Vasagatan wasn’t a town, it was a ship, and you scanned the massive structure in awe. It wasn’t so large like the old cruise ships that it could take weeks to investigate but it was definitely some sort of luxury craft. Marcus dropped the anchor of the raft as you rolled the sail up and the two of you both looked at the large ship. In the week of sailing it had taken to reach the vessel you’d been meticulous about tending to Marcus’ injury, it was doing a lot better but you were still insistent on limiting his range of motion to prevent the almost healed area from getting worse.

Thankfully the salt water and herbal pastes were helping to keep infection away, big blessings seeing as you both had yet to run into an island with any communities of people, and Marcus looked over at you as he watched you get ready to head onto the ship. He was nervous to agree to it, especially after the radio tower, but you’d convinced him to stay primarily with the raft this time around; not only was he recovering from his injury still but if there were people here like at the tower then neither of you wanted to risk your only means of transport being stolen or for him to become a liability in a fight.

Not even counting the swim over, the ship had gotten wedged into rocks and pushed somewhat on shore of what might’ve been a moderately sized island, you had taken one look and knew that there was no way that Marcus would be able to make the swim without compounding his injury. He hadn’t wanted to agree with you but he knew you were right, which was why his arguing had been minimal.

“I’m going right for the navigation room, promise, the goal of this is coordinates or communication logs with Cadran.” Marcus nodded and the gentle kiss on your nose made you giggle, his own smile making you reach up to play with his scruffy beard, and you made a note to look for a good razor for him since he preferred to have a clean shave. Armed with a machete, your knife, and a headlamp that you’d pieced together with Marcus’ help you slipped into the water and began to make the swim through the gap in the rocks.

The vast difference in depth became apparent when you went from open ocean to kicking coral as you swam to the lowered back end of the boat; it looked like a ramp that had gotten stuck in the open position after the ship beached itself, with the disturbed sand and broken rock falling onto it and half submerging it. As you looked at the high wall and single door your nerves spiked, the headlamp sliding into place on your head, and you pulled the door open to see what you were working with. You had to immediately look right, the door opened to a narrow hallway in that direction, and it was dark.

The headlamp wasn’t super bright but it was better than nothing, the metal floors coated in a thin layer of algae in some places, and you thanked Marcus’ foresight of taking the shoes off the feet of the two from the tower. His pilfered pair were a little big, just like yours, so you ended up sewing together thick socks made of layers of fabric; they weren’t that comfortable but it was better than going around barefoot or in wood sandals. Every step made the sole of the boots squeak on the ground, or make a wet squishing sound, and your grip on the machete tightened when you heard rapid footfalls above you.

Not heavy enough to be a person, not heading in your direction, but the size didn’t track with anything you thought would live on an abandoned ship. The engine room was empty and you hummed after finding several notes from a mechanic, mentioning a rat infestation, but the noises you were hearing weren’t exactly small. Navigating the bottom floor was done slowly so that you could be quiet, one of the doors was locked and you backtracked to a room that had been open but you’d ignored when you heard something inside.

Your answer to what the hell was here came in the form of a giant rat…thing. The tail was curled up and it was easily the size of a small to medium dog, the screech as it pounced was a high enough pitch to echo on the metal around you but you hadn’t clammed up and instead the machete hacked right into the thing when you side stepped and put a horizontal swing into your arm. Dark blood sprayed on the walls as you stabbed it through the head to be sure it was not getting back up and you had to use your other hand to cover your mouth, gagging at the gore now on the wall and your blade.

You stepped gingerly over the body, rapidly looking around the room until you managed to find a key with the stairwell picture on the tag, and you took stock of what was in the boat and what wasn’t. Depending on how many of those rats were hanging around would determine if you came back to pilfer what you could, if there were too many then it wasn’t at all worth the risk.

Upstairs there were rooms, with plush beds, and to your immense surprise there wasn’t any water damage to any of the spaces. More notes were slipped into your journal, records of someone named General Olaf performing experiments on the rats, the lurkers, and each new thing you learned about him made your stomach crawl with disgust. He had planned to use them like soldiers, he had turned them loose on the crew when he’d abandoned the yacht after they realized it was going to get beached, and there was a chance he was still alive since the notes themselves were only dated a handful of years back.

You had to make a jack to move one of the heaviest cabinets away from the only room that had the chance of having a key for the bridge, finding a lighter instead, and with a soft grunt you began combing the ship again for supplies. If you couldn’t find the key to break the door down -since it was metal there was no way your machete was going to break through it- you had seen a gas tank that was somehow still sealed. A small part of you thought about swimming back to warn Marcus that you were going to construct a small scale bomb but it would only take longer and give more of the lurkers a chance to slip out of their hidey holes.

You’d already killed eight of the damn things and still had no idea where they were coming from, and you weren’t too keen on finding out the hard way.

One gas tank, a few electrical wires, one stray bullet, and with a lighter in hand you exhaled lightly before setting it down in front of the cabin door; the fuse was lit and you hauled ass down the stairs; there was just enough propane in that tank to work and the explosion was loud, your eyes clenched shut as you huddled down under the bottom floor staircase. There was a ringing in your ears but you saw the movement in the empty dance floor in front of you and didn’t wait, scampering up the stairs to see if you’d done it.

The door was half hanging off the hinges and you looked around the navigation room, finding blue prints with a note attached to them that had coordinates. The word Balboa was written with a question mark, the name familiar from the radio tower logs, and you couldn’t find anything else to give you direction. Your head was aching from the explosion rattling your brain but you would rest on the raft, shaking off the mild dizziness as you hurried down the stairs, avoiding the dance floor entirely to go down into the engine room and exit through the bottom most floor.

Two lurkers tried to attack you but you managed to kill one and use the door of the downstairs bathroom to stun the other one long enough to get out, making the swim for the raft after you made sure the papers would stay dry by slipping them into your bag. The woven leaves were lined with an inner plastic layer that enabled it to float, allowing you to swim without worries that the blueprints and the coordinates would be okay. As you expected Marcus was pacing, reaching out to haul you up out of the water the second you were within reach, and he began frantically checking you for injuries.

“You’re okay, thank fuck you’re okay.” He pressed his forehead to yours, gently, as he shuddered slightly with relief.

“I didn’t want to waste time to swim back and warn you I was making a bomb-“

“Why did you need to make a bomb? Wait how close were you to the explosion? Does your head hurt? How are your ears?”

“Locked metal door, went three levels down and ducked under a staircase with my hands on my ears, yes, and they still feel funny.” Marcus tugged you into the cabin, setting your bag down, and he began a cursory inspection of your ears and made you lay down.

“Don’t go to sleep, can’t do that after any kind of head injury, but I’m going to get a cold damp cloth to cover your eyes and ears. Walk me through what you found so that I know you’re awake.” He waited until he was settled in, you had the cloth on your eyes and ears, before taking your hand and letting you tell him about the ship and the lurkers and all the journal entries from Hanne and Olaf. Marcus was silent, or if he was speaking it was low enough that you didn’t hear it over the buzz of your own voice and the muffling from the wet rag, and he promised to get a course for Balboa done up.

You were good at figuring out what direction you were headed, you could get yourself pointed North with no issues, but using the navigation tech that you two had pieced together came more naturally to Marcus. He made you stay awake for a few more hours before he let you sleep, you woke up some time after noon the next day to see that he’d gone onto the yacht. The sight of a narrow, smaller, boat with a double sided paddle made you realize he’d put together what was basically a kayak but with sharper angles.

Marcus was pouring over the blueprints and offered a sheepish grin when he saw your expression, but you simply kissed him and ignored the blood stains you knew weren’t his on the bottom of his white linen shirt.

“Blueprint is for an engine.” That explanation was all the two of you really needed to justify staying long enough to piece together an actual engine, it could run on fuel or wood according to the notes. It was hard work, sure, but it also meant that Marcus had more time to heal before you went running into any other potential problems given that the radio tower notes involved distress calls there.

When the engine was finally assembled and installed, after days of non-stop work until you two absolutely had to sleep or eat, you laid in bed with Marcus and just slept as he cradled you close and praised you for how everything had come together. Downplaying his own involvement, even though he’d done most of the actual work since you’d argued against him going over to the yacht to gather and recycle what you could from the engines there. It hurt you to see him minimize his own abilities the way he was, honestly, since he was just as capable as you were even though he didn’t seem to see it.

Hanne had left notes about learning how to make a slapdash biofuel and biofuel refiner from the rangers on Balboa Island, though she hadn’t left that information -or she had and Olaf had taken it with him- but since that was your next destination you and Marcus worked on getting as much wood dried out as possible while agreeing to only use the engine in short intervals until you had a better fuel source. Leaving the Vasagaten behind was a relief, you didn’t know if the lurkers could swim but you didn’t want to chance it, and Marcus sat beside you that night as the sail and wind guided your way through the water.

“I’m glad you’re okay, I was worried that self-made bomb would have left more lasting damage.” He’d skewered two fish that were currently cooking over your little grill while the two of you ate potatoes from your planter boxes that had been cleaned and cooked up first. The clay cooking vessels that Marcus had managed to make, along with your metal cooking pot, had been a blessing in disguise now that you could actually make stews and soups. Meals like this, just sitting and relaxing as the fire crackled, were not only common but relaxing too.

“I’ll be entirely honest when I say that I tend to overestimate my abilities and my general health far more than I should.”

“You’re used to surviving on your own without someone else worrying about you, I’m not upset that you did what you had to. Like I keep having to remind you, Angel, you’re so impressive. You’ve taught me a lot.” Marcus’ free hand was holding yours, his thumb brushing along the back of your hand, and you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“You’re impressive too, you know, our skill sets compliment each other. Usually where I’m unsure you’re able and vice versa, Marcus, so please stop selling yourself short.” He hummed and pressed a kiss to your temple, the scruff of his beard and mustache tickling you a little, and the two of you spent the night after eating just laying together talking about what kind of a life you had imagined for yourselves.

“I never thought I’d really find someone in a romantic sense, actually, because of how things seemed to just fall apart for me. I’m happy that I have you, of course, I just never thought I’d have this.”

“I pictured sailing around for a bit until I felt less heartbroken, a year or two tops, then I’d go to either Tangaroa or Cadran or whatever city I could and just settle down. Ideally around my family, my parents and my sister weren’t exactly keen of me venturing out on my own, but I knew that I couldn’t really count on always being able to find them and I needed the space to be alone for a while.”

“Which you never would have gotten in any of the cities, I remember hearing from people who left Tangaroa about how strict the local government actually was with everyone working. Apparently most of the people were crammed into small apartments there and the only places with real space were for city founders and company big wigs.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised, I was worried when my family said they wanted to sail for Cadran but I can’t blame them for wanting something better than living on the ocean.”

“It’s definitely not the life for everyone.”

“Would you… if I wanted to settle somewhere would you settle with me?”

He sounded scared to ask and you knew why, logically, he was worried about you rejecting it; that you’d retreat into what you knew best, life on the sea, and leave him behind somewhere. But you weren’t afraid to try something new, you hadn’t been afraid when you decided to trust him or afraid to give him your heart, so it would be hard but you weren’t afraid to settle down if it meant keeping him in your life. You told him that, plainly and clearly, and Marcus’s eyes spilled over with tears that you kissed away before he had you on your back and crying his name into the night sky with heaving breaths against the onslaught of his mouth and a most intimate kiss.

Balboa Island was large, easily the largest island you’d ever seen, and you felt Marcus’ body stiffen when you pointed out the sign innocently sitting in the sand on the beach.

Beware of Bears

“Well…. Fuck.”

“Talk about a deterrent.”

You dropped anchor well off shore, over the week of travel time here Marcus was finally in a much better place physically, you’d fashioned a second kayak and paddle since it was convenient but the idea of facing bears was enough to seriously make you question going onto the island.

“Even if there’s two of us… the odds against a bear are bad.”

“I see the satellite receiver station there.” Marcus pointed up and you followed the line of his arm, spotting the satellite tower, and logically that meant the ranger station had to be close to it. There was a distinct lack of boats anywhere, making you wonder if the distress call from Balboa was because of the Vasagaten like you’d suspected, and you knew that Marcus wouldn’t risk it if you didn’t want to. But you didn’t want to risk the chance that Cadran’s location was actually here, seeing as it could take you and Marcus months to get close enough to pick up a radio signal until you came up with a better way of tracking where you’d already been.

“Since they aren’t actively broadcasting I don’t know what we’re going to find here but if you’re willing to try than I am too, the state of the Vasagaten and the Radio Tower along with the other notes from the tower have me worried about your family needing you.” Marcus’ jaw tightened a little at your words but you knew he appreciated that you weren’t trying to sugar-coat the potential truth, you watched his face carefully and when he nodded once and made for his kayak it was clear what he’d chosen.

Arming yourself with the hunting knife, so that Marcus had the machete, you also grabbed one of the spears so that he could take the other. It was a slow paddle to shore but as you dragged the two small vessels up out of the waves it almost felt like there was a timer, the faster you got to the tower and got answers meant the faster you could leave. Storms, sharks, and thirst were the threats you could handle without batting an eye; facing down bears though?

Marcus captured your free hand in his and pressed a kiss to your palm, the gratitude in his eyes clear even as he turned his attention to the steep pathway up off the shore, and you used the butt of your spear like a walking stick to make the upward walk a little easier. The two of you opted to move slower, the further you were from shore, to preserve as much sprinting power as you could in case you needed a quick getaway; what neither of you counted on what the sight of a man in a dark green uniform sitting in some sort of a stand, smiling at you both at the very top of the path.

“Howdy folks, welcome to Balboa Island, I’m Jack. You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout the bears on this side of things, we finally managed to set up a solid perimeter to keep ‘em on the East.” Marcus made no move of relaxing his tense posture, and neither did you, but the man didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He kept his hands off his weapon as he approached, he was actually calm with the two of you facing him down.

“Do you know the coordinates for Cadran? My family was headed there and we’re trying to find them, we’ve been through a lot to get here.”

“Coordinates? You got a workin’ navigation system?”

“We managed to piece one together.”

When Jack smiled it was joyful, even with the slight uptick of his mustache that made it seem more like a smirk, and you couldn’t help but relax just a little bit.

“Then hows about we trade? Coordinates are free but we got some extra supplies, if you could just look at our tower? Some crazy military man on a yacht showed up and had his crew ransack the tower while my team and I were fixing the relay stations, but the main Radio Tower connecting us to Tangaroa never sent anyone to fix it. when we sent a distress signal.”

“The two people there were abandoned by someone else, they attacked us when we showed up so-“

“Right, if you got the coordinates to it I can send Tequila and Ginger to inspect it. If our radio goes up we can reach out to the Caravan Island, they got lots of engineers there and can go fix up the Tower. It’d reconnect us to Tangaroa, if we get word out to them that the pirates are goin’ after towers then maybe we can get some more defenses goin’ up.”

Jack was leading you and Marcus toward the ranger station, you could see that it was actually a little community since there were a few tents and small cabins scattered around the clearing, and the people there all waved warmly at you.

“Howdy folks, come have a sit and some food.” Champ, as he introduced himself, didn’t take no for an answer and was an avid listener to you and Marcus as you recounted your meeting and adventure on the sea so far. He looked equally disturbed when you read off General Olaf’s journal entries, about experimenting on the lurkers that had infested the Vasagaten, and Jack handed Marcus a razor and a towel with a smile before Ginger led you both to the bathhouse now that you’d been fed.

None of them seemed at all surprised you wanted to keep your weapons close at hand, in fact they seemed to expect it, and while you certainly wanted to indulge in a little touching now that Marcus was freshly cleaned and shaved you both knew better than to get distracted.

The new, fresh, clothes they’d provided felt amazing compared to your salt crusted linens and as you joined them again you looked up at the tower looming over you. It was high up, the kind of height that you worried you’d get sick from, but the ladder wasn’t broken or in bad shape at least.

“I should get looking at it now, while I have sunlight.” Marcus nodded once and you began ascending the ladder, keeping your gaze up instead of out or down, and when you reached the platform you could have kissed the metal if you weren’t determined to just hurry up and get back down. The system wasn’t nearly as bad off as the Radio Tower, the worst of it all was frayed wires, and the boxes of supplies up here included a good bit of electrical tape. You did have to salvage a few new sets of wires from the old parts already up here, peeling back covers to make sure they could be easily spliced into the system, but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t already known how to do.

After patching up what you could, making notes for Jack and the others so that a proper engineer could get everything fixed up later, all that was left was to flip on the device. The solar powered unit buzzed and squealed for only a moment before the sound of crackling static filled the air.

“Base to tower, you copy?” “Tower to base, I hear you loud and clear.” “Hot dang, you are a miracle worker!”

Jack’s praise made your face warm a little, you couldn’t help it, but what you hadn’t counted on was a rapid beeping as another incoming signal was picked up.

“Balboa Ranger Station, do you copy?” “Ranger Station copy, this Caravan Island?” “Sure is, good to hear from ya’ again.”

Knowing that they had their re-established contact, and that it was going to start getting dark, you began descending the ladder carefully; Marcus greeted you at the base and hugged you, no doubt terrified that you might’ve fallen, but just being back on solid ground settled your nerves.

“We got the coordinates and an offer to stay the night, but they did load us up with supplies if we want to get moving.”

“We know its hard to trust, seein’ the state of things, but you’re welcome here; Ezra, over at Caravan Island, passed a message along to Cadran to see if your folks made it. So if you want to wait it out you’re welcome to stay until we know.”

“Sounds like a good enough reason to stay, right Marcus?” He nodded and you realized that he’d let Ginger pen copies of the notes you’d found from the Tower and Vasagaten, you were honestly glad to see that some people actually wanted to try and end the piracy and attacks. To reconnect people so that everyone could be safer and happier.

“Nervous?”

“Not really.”

Marcus was watching you but you really weren’t all that bothered, his family had not reached Cadran but instead joined a small community near Caravan Island, now that you’d finally tracked them down and knew they were okay it only made sense for him to see it for himself. He’d been away from them for three years, the longest in his life, after all.

“If I- if I wanted to stay… would you?” He sounded scared to ask and you knew why, the countless conversations you had about feeling trapped and paranoid around people after everything you had been through were good enough reasons that he’d worry, and instead of being upset by his questioning you appreciated it. Far more than he’d ever know, really, the fact that he understood your past but didn’t treat you with kid-gloves because of it.

“I can try, you just would just have to be patient with me-“ He kissed you before you could even finish, you knew he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t seriously considering it and you understood it since he’d grown up only traveling on the ocean when he had to. Being on land, being around his family, was the most comfortable for him and he wanted to include you as a part of that.

Marcus sat down with you between his legs, arms wrapped around your middle as the engines rumbled along toward the island. Jack and the others had given you more than enough wood for engine fuel to speed up your trip, after you helped them construct a small raft with an engine that they could use to patrol around Balboa, and evidently the gunshots in Tangaroa had been because of General Olaf attempting to take over there and failing against the city’s military.

You both must have drifted off to sleep because when your eyes opened the sun was high and you shook Marcus gently, it would be safer to head into the cabin than stay out here and risk sunburn, but he pointed at the sight of a flag and high rocks. A small raft came out to meet you and Constable Raymond seemed delighted to learn that Marcus was one of Geoff and Marissa’s kids, the two elder Pike had evidently become a backbone of the little community.

Being led ashore, raft anchored alongside some of the others, you watched Marcus practically sprint the distance to engulf his mother in a hug. His sister Laura and her wife Sue greeted you warmly, the former very welcoming and the latter was already recounting her own tales of traveling and rescuing a Pike that she ended up falling in love with.

“They’re like sirens.” Your joke made Sue burst out into laughter and hug you, while Laura rolled her eyes good naturedly, and you followed the family to the community cabin building where the other residents had been waiting for you both since learning that you were going to be visiting. It was overwhelming, everyone was curious about you specifically, and Marcus held your hand while helping you tell a very watered down version of your early life and then happily telling them the very in depth details of how you saved him and how impressive you were.

It was too much, after hours of being surrounded by people, and you escaped to the shore to just sit and listen to the waves. Marcus joined you a little bit later, just sitting beside you, and you took his hand gently in your own.

One week turned into two, with each passing day you began to grow more comfortable around the others here, the island was definitely large enough to not only house everyone but offer places to run away and hide when you felt overwhelmed. So when Rouhi approached you about buying your raft from you, in order to take up traveling, you were faced with a decision.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t build another raft, the island had plenty of resources, but there was a part of you that knew the truth; as long as you had a way of running away… you probably would. Marcus was an amazing man and you loved him, truly loved him, but even he had guilt in his eyes on nights you would wake up fighting the monsters of your memories that plagued your nightmares. When you would need to be sitting by the shore to remind yourself that even though you weren’t moving now that you could.

He wanted to stay, to settle and not have to fear starving or dying of thirst on the open ocean, and you completely understood why. You had a choice to make and Marcus gave you the space you needed to do so, watching you finish whatever task you were assigned for the day and disappear until nightfall. It was a hard choice to make and in the times of walking away and just thinking you found a friend, someone else who felt trapped and needing to run away,

Someone like you, except his drive was strictly to go to Tangaroa to join their academy to become an engineer.

The raft drifted along the waves, the gulls cry louder than ever, and Marcus stood watching from the shoreline. He looked torn, eyes shiny, and then turned to you with a smile on his face as you watched Rouhi leave with the last remnant of your life before Marcus.

“Come on, Marcus, let’s go home.” He took your hand in his and walked beside you up the worn path toward your cabin, it was early afternoon and the two of you had a few more things you wanted to get done today, seeing Rouhi off had been hard but you’d wanted to say goodbye to the raft that had served you well for the decades it had and give the young man your blessing.

The seashell pendant on your neck was new, a gift to celebrate your marriage, and you wanted to make sure all your work was done so you could spend the next few days with your husband celebrating the start of this new life.

[localcanadiancreature62]

MOREE Lobotomy husbands stuff

I can't get enough of these two istg-. Anyway more fucked up mind fuck husbands musings.

Bill and Ford simultaneously fix each other and make each other worse with their marriage ngl. Ford is allowed to be insecure and vulnerable without any fear of getting harassed or insulted for it (*cough* Filbrick *cough*) while also not having the keep up the mask of being a high and mighty oh so brilliant genius around Bill,he can just be himself. Meanwhile Bill can be vulnerable emotional and weak even around Ford without any fear of getting his power undermined or scaring the genius off with his dumb feelings/outbursts,he doesn't have to be the all seeing all powerful cosmic near deity with his researcher husband,he can just be his silly and slightly pathetic self around him. But also they give each other more issues. Bill now has abandonment issues as he's absolutely terrified of losing Ford now that he has everything he always wanted and thus he makes sure to do EVERY countermeasure to keep the man to himself even if it hurts him while Ford is emotionally dependant on Bill to the point of not being able to deal with his own feelings without the triangle around. He needs his triangular husband to coddle him and constantly reassure him so that he can remotely function,he needs Bill to build his shattered self esteem,and he feels empty/antsy whenever he's not around (give him therapy pls omg).

Bill is less reckless with things now that he has more to lose,he makes sure to be very careful with what he says or does because if he messes up then he'll lose the one thing he ever had,Ford. He feels like he's walking on eggshells whenever he's with Ford or in the Perfect World,as he knows that one day he'll mess up in an irreversible way that even his reality warping powers won't be able to fix. If he royally fucks up,then he'll end up losing Ford his new reputation as the Multiverse's Guardian and even his power. He has seen alternate timelines where he loses everything just because he had one huge misstep in his life,which is why he's now slightly perfectionistic with himself with the way he acts around Ford and within the Perfect World whenever it comes to making mistakes.

Bill only uses his regular triangle form during sex whenever he's pleasuring Ford or he's the one under,otherwise he uses a human form to bang the genius in order to make things easier for them both. To add onto this,Bill often uses his human form to pleasure Ford to relieve his CEO related stress aka to either bang him or give him a handy.

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@ferromagnetiic asked: 💔💔💔 // i would like to order 3 different exes, please! Send 💔 for my muse to talk about an ex (Still Accepting)

"I briefly dated a guy during the early days of sailing the Grand Line. I honestly didn't plan for it to last very long. Just until the log pose reset and we left the island. I made it clear that I wasn't interested in staying with him, but...well, he was convinced that I'd fall in love with him and give up my life at sea. I tried to leave on good terms, but he insisted on trying to convince me to stay with him and start a family. I tried to tell him that it couldn't happen anyway, since I was sterile, he...he completely did a 180. Said I was broken and sick in the head. I don't regret leaving that dickhead, but there's a part of me that wishes Law had heard that argument so he could have made the guy regret having met me. I sure regret meeting him for how much doubt he put in my mind. But he's ancient history. I don't even remember his name anymore."

"Unfortunately, I can't say the same for Kasanoda, much as I wish I could forget him. That fucker was a Devil Fruit user who could manipulate emotions. Was decently subtle with it, too. Actually made me fall in love, or think I had, and then when he was done with me, fucked with my emotions even more so I'd feel some of the most intense heartbreak imaginable so I couldn't beat his face in. Son of a bitch made me do things I never would have done because he messed with my head so bad. Thankfully, this time Law was around to make that fucker suffer. I actually rank him worse than Hawkins because at least most of what he and I did was consensual. Kasanoda was basically a date rapist for what he did with his powers."

"Sigh. And, of course, we now come to Hawkins. Because there's no way he wouldn't make this list. I won't lie, when we weren't trying to play each other, the relationship was...nice. He made me feel feminine and appreciated for more than just my ability to build neat shit or my connection to Law. Treated me like a lady when we went out, was great in the sack, and actually listened to me when I was venting or talking about something I was passionate about. But I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. And fuck did it ever. I don't know if he was always insane, if the past two years made him that way, or if something on Wano just made him snap, but fuck. I can't take the feeling of straw anymore because of him. The worst part is that unlike the other two, I can't be sure he won't pop back into my life. Like, he should be dead but...I think I'm always gonna be looking over my shoulder, expecting him to be waiting for me in the shadows. And I think that's what I hate the most about him. That I'll never truly be free of him."

[writer-and-artist27]

Or the author decided to dip her toes into the realm of smut/mature content for the first time ever, with the encouragement of @partialdignity (Thankie, Carim) and other friends. So content warning here, for some removed clothing and kissing. Just saying.

Heavily inspired by real life and how the journey to even committing to the action of sex itself possibly being a slow one, with two partners trying to explore each other at their own paces.

Canonically takes place after Olympus and Heian-Kyo in Part 2 of FGO, following this bond story from Tumblr. And is canon to Passing Days. 

Was listening to Idol from YOASOBI when drafting, funny enough.

FFN link here. 

[thebirdygrace]

Death, and Other Dark Desires, Ch. 8

Lore loomed over Lyla, basking in her beautiful humiliation. Standing over her in the small dining area of the ship, he checked the feeding pump that was attached to a thin metal pole next to her chair and turned it off. Lyla sat, ankles bound to the legs of the chair, arms, and wrists tied behind her, a red ball gag with a hole in the center in her mouth, and a thin feeding tube coming out her left nostril, skillfully secured along the side of her face and behind her ear. Her head drooped, and her eyes were swollen and red. Her face was stained with snot, tears, vomit, and blood; her body shook from silent sobs, and Lore could tell he had won.

Lore had indulged in every moment of her punishment; tying her to the table, he pinned her head in place and laughed as her screams pierced the air when he forcefully shoved the tube up her nose and down her throat, stabbing the back of her throat on purpose several times. He practically howled when he turned the volume and speed on the pump to the max, pumping her stomach until she vomited again and again and begged for him to stop. He’d bathed lavishly in her sorrow as he whispered to her, softly degrading her with insidious cruelty. “What does this say about you?” he’d said. “What does it say about you that this is how I get you to understand your place? What type of person does that make you? To be so vain.” 

When Lore found the tricky prey that had been eluding him, he decided to leave her tied there, hooked to the feeding solution, left to run on low continuously while he was gone. He laughed coldly when he told her he was leaving, and he could hear Lyla quickly break down, sobbing and thrashing about like a dying animal as he walked away, her muffled cries ringing in his ears with a sweet sensation—a sound he’d replayed many times in his head while out hunting his prey. When he’d finally subdued the Lanthanite—a task that had taken slightly longer than he’d intended—it was a personal victory for Lore, and he was excited to return to see what he would find, to see how far gone his sweet Lyla would be. Either way, his work in the Beta quadrant was over, and if her timeout had been ineffective, maybe a new view in the Delta quadrant would help her adjust.

Left to toil in fear and filth for nearly twenty hours, Lyla tried to cling to her stubbornness, exerting herself uselessly against the bonds—but even she had her breaking points. She was swinging between worrying he would not return, and she would rot and die tied there like an animal, or dreading the moment he did return and decided to turn the machine back up. In this hellish limbo, she drifted into despair—a territory she was very familiar with—all anger and obstinacy receding into… emptiness and deep, forlorn resentment. What was the point? Lyla felt the weight of her anguish set upon her shoulders like a pillory she was forced to wear for the rest of her life, however long that may be. He refused to kill her, for the time, despite Lyla constantly egging him on, and now, nearly five months after her initial capture, as they lingered somewhere far outside of Federation territory, Lyla knew there was little hope of seeing rescue. 

When Lore did return, and Lyla heard his slow, heavy footsteps enter the dining room, all she could do was weep. She had no bitterness left to dwell in nor stubbornness to cling to; both her body and constitution were weak, and the only future she saw was a bleak existence where she was forced to linger among the living, waiting for the moment she was no longer entertaining or useful toward him, and she could finally meet death.

Even in the alternate universe, where the Federation stood a chance of catching up to him now, how could she return? How could she go back and pretend her father wasn’t an awful, greedy creature who’d rather she die than his dirty secret get out? Who would listen to her if she told?

A part of her, a larger part than she’d care to admit, wanted Lore’s words to cause an eruption within the Federation, she wanted to see people like her father finally be served the justice they deserved. Lyla had long ago soured on the efficacy of the Federation; she’d seen far too often, firsthand, that the checks and balances meant to hold the system accountable were anything but failsafe, and with so many left reeling from the Dominion War, temperaments were still heated, and wounds had yet to heal for most. It was hardly a wonder why so many who came of age during this time now found themselves blindsided by the harsh reality they were fed little other than lies and broken promises, and many young people, like Lyla, made their displeasure known in rather interesting ways.

Much to her father’s embarrassment, Lyla was rather publicly involved with the notorious journalist Jack Spencer. An outspoken critic of the Dominion War, who had also been a well-known Maquis sympathizer, he’d written several hit pieces, as her father had labeled them, criticizing the Federation and Klingon Empire’s tactics, often deeming them unethical. While never publicly speaking on the matter, she was pictured many times with him at protests or other demonstrations. It had been an extraordinary point of contention between her, her father, and her siblings, especially after her mother fell ill toward the end of the war. After she passed, Lyla, who had left the London Ballet to care for her, felt a sense of remorse for the pressure her relationship had put on the family, and her father, like the viper he was, used it to get his way. Lyla could only imagine the same thing was happening back within the Federation at this time.

She was not personally acquainted with Captain Picard, but if his reputation was true, and Picard was a man of rare, outstanding moral character, then Lore’s Easter egg was certain to have grabbed his attention, and Lyla was sure Picard was diligently searching for details of Project Legend, but she knew better than to hope by now. The Federation was a bureaucracy, and a bureaucracy by any other name is just as ineffective. As certain as she was, Captain Picard was looking for the truth behind Lore’s taunt, she was also certain he was likely finding blockades made of stone. It mattered little to her now, though, by the end of the fifteenth hour, all Lyla found herself hoping for was that she would meet death sooner rather than later. 

Lyla did not pull away when Lore cupped her chin and tilted her head to look at him “Did you miss me, darling?” Instead, she bit down on the little red ball and tried not to cry at the relief she’d felt when he returned. Though she longed for death, a slow, torturous, rotting death left hooked to that fucking machine, swimming in her own filth was not a fate she wanted to endure.

Lore smiled, pleased to see both his plans were successful he turned away, grabbed the other chair, sat across from her, and pulled off the thick black gloves he’d been wearing to check on the cryo-chambers before coming to the dining area. 

“Well, I missed you.” He said before leaning forward and grabbing her chair. He dragged her chair toward him, pulling her between his legs as he leaned close to her face. “I really hope that after this time apart, we can… start fresh.” He held her face in his hand, thumbing the thin, plastic tube, and delighted in how Lyla flinched when he touched it. “Open a new chapter in our relationship.” He paused before continuing. “You know,” he said mirthfully, “you never asked how my mission went.” he teased. “It went spectacular, by the way, thank you very much. I was exemplary as always, though this Lanthanite was a worthy opponent—much more so than those lousy Klingons.”

Lore paused and threaded his hand through her hair, pulling her head back, he pressed his face against the pulse in her neck and thrilled at its erratic rhythm while Lyla continued, in vain, to try and hold back her tears. “There’s something I want to show you. Something I’m very excited for you to see, but first—” he pulled her face to his and met her eye to eye. Her eyes were red and swollen, brows furrowed in futile effort as tears continued to trickle down her face. “I need to know that I can trust you, Lyla. I’m going to let you out of timeout, but if you try to pull this tube out of your nose,” a Cheshire cat grin spread across his face, “I’m going to break every single bone in your two little arms. Do you understand?” Lyla sobbed and closed her eyes before slowly nodding. “Good.”

Lyla did not look at Lore as he removed the ball gag first, revealing a pair of swollen, dry, chapped, and cracked lips. They were speckled in blood and scabs, with two little sores on either side of her mouth, and she flinched when Lore thumbed over them. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll pull out the medical kit for you. I know this must hurt.” He smiled as he did it again, and they began to bleed in a spot where he’d pulled a small scab loose, eliciting a sweet little yelp from Lyla that Lore simply adored. Lore proceeded to untie her limbs, one by one, taking note of every welt and laceration with gleeful pride; he regularly enjoyed painting her body black and blue and red like a canvas he used to express himself upon. “These look so pretty on you, darling,” he thumbed over a painful burn on her wrist from the synthetic fiber rope he’d used. “I can only believe you think the same since it was your misbehavior that got you into this situation.”

Lyla said nothing as she gingerly flexed and nursed her wrists while Lore moved to untie her legs. An odd numbness began to set in, something Lyla was not inexperienced with, and as he quickly finished undoing her bonds and stood looming over her, Lyla continued to sit, staring at her lap, slowly circling her wrists, a distant blank expression on her pallid face.

“Stand up. I need to show you something.” Lore commanded bluntly.

Lyla slowly looked up at Lore, eyes vacant and glassy, a soft confusion in her still otherwise blank expression, as though she wasn’t certain he’d spoken.

“Stand up.” He demanded again, a hint of frustration entering his voice when she did not immediately jump at his order.

Lyla blinked, but the glassy, vacant look in her eyes persisted—a look that, though he would be averse to admit it, unsettled Lore a bit—still, she attempted to stand. Leaning forward, she pressed up, but her legs quickly buckled beneath her, her muscles, weak from the exhaustion of body and spirit, could not hold her, and she fell to the metal floor with a loud thud. As the impact of hitting the floor wreaked her body with pain, Lyla began to cry. Sobbing loudly and uncontrollably, and without even the strength to hold to her stubborn nature or hold herself upright, she could no longer hold back her hopelessness.

“Oh, Lyla,” Lore toyed as he leaned down, elbows on his thighs, lurking over her crumpled form, “having a hard time? These are the consequences of our actions. Aren’t they? Give me your hand.” He held out his hand for her to take, but Lyla, still in the throes of sorrow, was hesitant and did not immediately reach back. Lore, who did not care to wait, grabbed her hand as soon as she started to lift it and wrenched her up as he stood, but Lyla’s legs were still not obliged to hold her, and, as he quickly began pulling her to the bridge of the ship, she fell behind him. Lyla’s arm stretched and twisted painfully as Lore dragged her across the cold metal floor. Parts of her dress got caught on sharp objects as they passed, with pieces of fabric ripping from the skirt and little bits of metal slicing thin cuts into her hip and thigh. She screamed and begged, “Please! Stop! Please!” but before long, he was slamming her down into the captain’s chair, pinching her face between his hands roughly.

“That is such a lovely word coming from your mouth,” Lore said. “Keep that up, and you’ll earn yourself a nice treat. Now shut up and pay attention, or I’m going to put the force field up.”

Lyla bit down on her lip, shaking like a frail tree branch as she tried to hold in her sobs. Lore had used the force field several times as a means of punishment, slowly lowering the oxygen level inside as he watched Lyla struggle for air before returning it to normal and allowing her to breathe, then repeating the process on a loop endlessly for hours. As Lyla’s mind spiraled under the weight of her despair, she could not bear to suffer his wiles further and shrunk from him. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she balled into the fetal position, rocking slowly with her arms around her legs, trying to soothe herself quietly.

“You’re being such a good girl.” Lore purred happily. “Now, it’s time for us to leave, my darling. My work here is—"

An incoming communication on the comm interrupted them, and Lore growled in frustration, turning away quickly to tend to their caller. A Romulan warbird, performing routine scans of the area nearby, had gotten lucky—or unlucky, depending on perspective—and found the trail of artificial carbon particles the ship was still leaving behind. By now, word of the stolen Jump engine and the knowledge of how to track it were hot commodities worth a small fortune, and the Romulan Empire had been one of the first bidders.

Lore smiled. He welcomed the chance to prove a point and flicked on the viewscreen. “What can I do for you, such a fine gentleman, on this wonderful day?” he crooned with a Cheshire cat grin.

“This Commander Koval of the Ten Shir,” on the screen, was a weather-worn and unpleasant, looking old Romulan, whose brow looked to be in a near-permanent furrow, even when at rest. He leaned forward and tapped his long, knotted fingers together lightly as he spoke. “This vessel and its occupants are here-by possessions of the state, by order of the Romulan government. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded.”

“While I love to indulge in fantasy, we must move on from the quadrant, duty calls elsewhere. Our business here has concluded. So, I’ll make you a deal,” Lore reached beneath the brightly lit ops console, where a small, locked compartment hung, opening it with his thumbprint, he pulled out a black notebook, one which he’d forced Lyla to copy some of the doctor’s notes in. He held it up in his hand, like a waiter presenting a neatly set tray of desserts. “I’ll give you a copy of my notes; you build your own.”

Lyla eyed the notebook and saw a small emblem on the cover she had not seen before. A raised gold circle with a symbol in the middle she did not recognize but appeared to resemble a pentagram. What an odd thing to add, she thought, but she knew better than to question any part of Lore’s plan by now. He hadn’t been caught yet, and she would not hold her breath—especially for the Romulans.

The commander of the Romulan warbird laughed. “I expected better from the brother of the famed Starfleet android.”

Lore felt his positronic network heat up, and ravenous hate began to swell beneath his golden skin. “Are you sure you don’t want to look at it?” he cooed maliciously.

The Romulan laughed, but their amusement was, inevitably, short-lived. Lore glanced back at Lyla, winked, and with a green flash, the notebook was gone. In an instant, it appeared on the bridge of the Romulan ship, dropping into the Commander’s lap. 

“A little trick I learned from my Borg friends.” Lore had learned many tricks from the group of Borg he’d once controlled, and over the past several months, he had put that knowledge to good use, modifying both the ship and himself.

The commander grimaced. “This will not suffice! The ship belongs to the Romulan Empire!”

“It’s not meant to suffice.” Lore smiled wider as the gold emblem began to melt, and a vague white fog began to fill the air around the Romulan.

“What is this!” he demanded.

“Sarin gas,” Lore said cheerily. “It tends to have a delayed effect on Vulcans, so I’m guessing it’s the same with Romulans.” He added as the Commander gave him a rather confused look. By the time the Commander’s nose began to drip little dots of green blood on his gray, boxy tunic and he attempted to yell for his second in command, it was too late. The gas had seeped into the ship’s vents the second it began to melt, and Lore’s recipe was highly concentrated, needing only a molecule to kill a full-grown elephant.

Lyla screamed as the Commander began seizing, vomit foaming from his mouth like a rabid dog as his eyes began to bulge before he slumped over and fell out of frame. The notebook, which had fallen to the floor, erupted in a blaze of green plasma flames, and she could see the smoke beginning to rise on the empty viewscreen.

Lore turned to her, and with a smile that would forever linger in her thoughts, he said coldly, “You have to be thorough when you exterminate a pest like this.” In the next few moments, he proceeded to unload a barrage of bright green plasma missiles at the defenseless Romulan ship. Aiming directly for the bridge, when their shields finally gave, he grabbed Lyla and forced her to watch as the hull was penetrated and a group of Romulans that had been on the bridge were swept into space. With one hand on the nape of her neck, pinching hard, Lore whispered in her ear while she sobbed, “Just another group of worthless fools, ruining my surprise,” and with the other, he powered up the Jump engine.

Lyla began hyperventilating as the loud humming sound from the engine’s power source filled the air. Pushing and shoving at Lore as he held on to her with gleeful force, enjoying every minute of her panic as the engine reached full power. 

The ops console lit up as Lore set in their coordinates, and the untested Jump engine began to kick in—one shot was all they had. They would either succeed or be blown to oblivion, but Lore would succeed… no matter the costs. “I was hoping for a bit more ceremony, but I think this sector is about to get a bit too crowded for my liking.” He taunted as a bright white light began to encircle their ship. The engine hummed louder and louder, the sound becoming a deafening thrum throughout their bodies. The ship vibrated, seemingly down to the atom, as Lyla felt herself being stretched further and further until, in a sudden blinding flash… they were gone, and only the broken pieces of the Ten Shir remained.