#is the world ready for this post? not sure

[ganxiously]

This is the part of the helicopter crash fic I started writing today. I don't know if I'm going to post it to ao3 but I did want to share it here. Now, this first update is angst so read at your own risk, but it will be a happy ending, I promise. This is Tommy's pov and I'll be back with Buck's side of things and the aftermath as soon as I have finished writing them —

The silence is stark in the aftermath and Tommy’s ears ring like they are still expecting the screech of the altitude alarms or the roar of metal crashing into rocks and trees. He’s not sure what happened, one moment he was flying his helo back to Harbour and the next, the altitude alarms started going off one by one. He had tried to fix it, tried to pull the bird up even as it became amply clear that nothing was working. They had dropped fast, swinging this side and that with the wind and then his tail had hit the cliffside, sending him and his medic rolling down the mountain in a 30-tonne metal can. He doesn’t know what happened to her, Amy, a new recruit with a penchant for keeping to herself. That’s why they worked together so well, a good thing until it led them here.

“Amy?”, he manages to ask, his voice coming out hoarse. “Medic Garcia?”

There is nothing. Not even the sound of feeble breaths. Tommy swallows the burgeoning feeling of grief and panic and tries to think of a way out. It’s dead of the night, the scenery outside the broken glass of his wind-screen pitch black, the flickering lights of the city not even visible from where he’s landed. He tries to move himself and then immediately freezes as the pain threatens to take away his consciousness. 

This is bad, he thinks. I don’t know how to get out of this one.

He is still strapped into his harness and beneath that, his flight suit is soaked with blood. It feels tacky and slippery against his skin, enough of it that he knows wherever it’s coming from, it’s not good news. It’s not survivable. His legs are pinned and he’s pretty sure the wet feeling around his eyes is blood. His ribs hurt and when he tries to move his hands, his shoulders refuse to bear the weight.

Oh, I am definitely not getting out of this one.

The realisation hits like G during a rapid climb and for the first time in long while, Tommy’s scared. He is terrified, as terrified as he hasn’t been since he was a wet-behind-his-ears boy seeing war for the first time. He thinks his hands would shake if he could move them that fast, his breath would stutter if it already wasn’t, wheezing past the damage, past the blood and tickling at his lips.  He doesn’t want to die like this, the thought occurs to him. He doesn’t want to die at all. He wants to turn back time and return to those scant months when he had been, for once, truly happy. He wants . . . he wants Evan. Beside him, holding his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on Tommy’s palm as he talks about anything and everything that comes to his mind.

Maybe that is the thing about impending death. Its finality, its loneliness puts things into perspective really fast. When he had all the time in the world, he had faltered, he had a thousand and one excuses ready as to why it was a bad idea. Now that Tommy’s out of time, there is not one that seems to hold up to reason. He wants Evan, he loves Evan and he should have told him that when he still had the chance. He should have spent every second he had left loving him.

He somehow manages to take his phone out of his pocket, surprised to see that it’s still mostly intact, except for the one thin crack down the middle. He thumbs it open and there he is, brushed golden in the sun and laughing at something Tommy had said. It’s a damn shame he can’t remember anymore what that something had been. There’s no cell service on his phone, which is bad but it also relieves him. He doesn’t have to make a 911 call, only to tell them they are already too late and like this, he won’t give in to the urge to hear Evan’s voice one last time.

He opens their message thread like he has done so many times these past couple of weeks, typing and deleting messages that never seem to be able to convey his complicated thoughts. He clicks on the typing bar, watches the keyboard pop up and then just keeps on staring, looking at the bloody fingerprint on his screen as he tries to think of what to write. What last words do you text your ex-boyfriend who you broke up with? That I’m sorry and I think I’m an even bigger asshole than you probably think I am?

The pain in his body notches up, so spread out that he barely knows where it originates from and he grits his teeth with an effort to keep himself from screaming. Eventually, it passes and Tommy takes the opportunity to click on the voice message button to the right.

“Buck.”

He hates that name on his tongue. 

“Evan.”, he starts and then stops again because it still doesn’t feel enough. It doesn’t feel like it encapsulates everything Tommy associates with that name — the warmth, the safety, the incredulous how is he real? and the helpless adoration that he just can’t seem to keep at bay no matter how much he tries. So, he gives it one more shot, “Evan. My Evan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about a million things.”

A cough stops him, the movement jostling him enough that pain rips through him anew and he is left gasping and sobbing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay away. I’m sorry I didn’t leave earlier and I’m sorry I left when I did . . . I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He swallows the blood in his mouth or at least, he tries to but all of it comes out with the next cough.

“I should have stuck around. I should have stayed and I should have loved you as long as you let me. I should . . . I should have told you I love you. Even—even if you don’t and that’s okay. You should— you shouldn’t love someone like me but that was no reason to not tell you I did. I just . . . I should have loved you as hard as I could while I still had the chance, Evan. You, at least, deserved that.”

He’s getting colder by the second and the part of his brain that still works, tells him that he is going into shock. Tommy’s running out of time and he’s running out of time fast.

“I don’t want to die.”, he manages to say through the sobs racking through his throat. He thinks he should feel pain but there isn’t anything beyond numbness anymore, “I don’t want to die and I don’t want to go through death alone. I want you . . .”

No, but that’s not right, is it? He doesn’t want Evan in this mess. Evan doesn’t deserve to get hurt again just to accompany Tommy in his last moments. He should be far away, happy, healthy and at peace. Maybe it is better that they broke up. If this was always supposed to be the end, it is surely better that Evan no doubt hates Tommy a little bit now. Maybe, if he’s lucky, Evan will leave a flower on his grave one day.

“I really wanted to be your last, you know?”, he finally says after a minute of silence, the words spilling out almost conversationally, long after he thought he’s run out of things to say. “But more than that, I wanted you to be my last and I’m happy that I got it, even if it’s not in the way I wanted it to be.”

And it's so fucking typical of him, isn’t it? He is being so selfish right now, ruining Evan’s life like this just so he can get some things off his chest. And he knows Evan, he knows what this message will do to him. Evan will go through life with the burden of Tommy’s regret on his shoulders and he hates how tempting that thought is, that if not in his heart, Tommy’s existence will at least have a place in the scars he carries for the rest of his life.

Here lies Tommy Kinard. He’s the bastard that broke my heart once upon a time.

But no, he can’t do that to Evan. He’s been selfish when he kissed Evan the first time, when they decided to give it a second try and when he hurt Evan to protect himself. He’s been selfish every moment that he managed to steal in between.

“Nevermind.”, he breathes out, smiling through the blood that’s threatening to choke him. “Nevermind, Evan. You— you don’t need to know all that. You should forget me. Forget there was ever a Tommy Kinard who loved you. Live a happy life and maybe . . . maybe in our next one, I’ll get to keep you. I’ll delete this now. I would have deleted myself out of your life too if I could’ve but this will have to do. I’m really outta time here, kid.”

He tries to blink away the blind spots around the edges of his vision but he’s fading fast. He fights against the unmoored feeling that is taking over, tries to swipe his screen in hopes of deleting the message but his hands are too slick and too weak to do anything anymore. The phone slips from his grasp and falls with a thunk somewhere near his feet, not that it matters. Not when he can barely remember what he was doing with the phone in the first place. Something to do with Evan. Maybe.

He huffs at his uselessness.

“Evan.”, his lips shape the word with care even though his voice doesn’t quite manage to colour it fully but it’s enough. It’s enough to have that be the last thing he speaks, to be the last thing he thinks about. The name washes away the cold like dawning sunrise on a crisp winter morning and Tommy is at peace, he is content.

“Tommy?”

That’s Evan’s voice. He has to go. He has to answer. He has to—

[eternalbuckley]

His everything. — aemond targaryen

SUMMARY: You help Aemond to calm down before he was about to meet your family for the first time since you've been in a relationship.

word count: 1,781

genre: fluff | no specified reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, aemond feels insecure, it's mentioned that reader has siblings, parents and grandparents, reader wears lipstick and earrings, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: i needed to write some fluff for our favourite silver-white haired man again. it's been some time since i've published something here because i'm still working on my au for him BUT i needed to write something else, so i hope you enjoy it <3 reblogs, feedback and comments are highly appreciated and welcomed!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

stars and moon divider by cafekitsune

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“Babe, are you ready?” You asked Aemond while you walked into his bedroom and fixed your earring. You were about to drive to your parents’ home to have a dinner with your family. A family dinner where you would finally introduce Aemond to your loved ones. You were nervous about their reactions and if they’d accept your relationship, but so was he for many reasons. He wanted to make sure that your family would like him, but he was still feeling very uneasy – given that he didn’t want to potentially lose you. You had been together for over a year now and it was the best year both of you ever had – and you wanted to share many more with each other.

You saw your boyfriend sitting on his bed, fiddling nervously with his fingers and staring down at the floor. “Babe?” You asked him again; this time, your voice was softer. You didn’t want to accidentally startle him in case he was lost in his thoughts, which happened often some days.

Aemond didn’t look up or turn his head to you, but you noticed that his leg started to bounce. You walked up to him, “Hey… What’s going on in your mind?”, you spoke with a tender and caring tone in your voice as you stood in front of him. You gently cupped his face with your hands to tilt his head and make him look up at you. You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs and watched him closing his eye for a moment and taking a deep breath.

“I’m nervous…” Aemond mumbled and opened his eye. He looked into yours for a moment before he put his hands on your hips and pulled you closer, so you stood between his legs. He nuzzled his head into your stomach and sighed contentedly. You moved your hands to his hair and carefully brushed over his head, helping him to relax with your gentle touch.

You already assumed why he was nervous – it would be the first time he’d finally meet your family. You knew your family had their prejudices about other people, it was basically a part of their nature. They always had their specific opinions, especially if they were about members of other influential families in Westeros – just like yours. The world you and Aemond live in isn’t always the easiest one. Yes, you may have opportunities some other people aren’t able to have but growing up with the world having its eyes on each step you both take and the responsibilities you have, has taken a toll on both of you many times in your lives. His family expected a lot of him, and so did yours. And in this big chaos in your lives, you and Aemond found each other and fell in love.

It may be the first time your family would be meeting him, and they had heavy prejudices about the silver-white haired man, especially because he was a Targaryen, after all. They were very biased due to different things they had heard and seen of his family already, but they were open to meeting him – for you. They knew about your relationship for months by now and how happy you have been since you met him. Even if they had their prejudices, they were eager to meet the man who made you so much happier.

You knew how protective they were over you, especially your older siblings. After two failed relationships in the past, they always looked out for you and hoped you’d eventually find someone who was good for you and treated you well enough. After all, you found that someone and that person was Aemond, he made you feel complete, loved and seen for who you are. Even if you had been together for over a year already, there hasn’t been a moment yet where you could have introduced Aemond to your family until tonight. You didn’t put in a lot of effort to actually find a fitting day to introduce Aemond to your family – you wanted them to meet him but you were too afraid that they could or would try to find something to ruin this for you, even if you were completely sure that they would not succeed. Aemond understood that feeling perfectly, he wasn’t ever pressuring you to do anything you weren’t ready to do, even if it meant waiting longer.

You had met his family before, and it would be a lie if you’d say you were relaxed back then. Luckily everything went well, and you get along with his closest ones, especially his siblings. But you were just as nervous about meeting them as Aemond was about meeting your family, you knew what he was feeling. He was afraid that they would not like him for different things, one of them being that he was a Targaryen and the reputation some of his family members – if not all – had, or even the different rumours about him and his family. There were days when it didn’t bother him, but on other days, he felt incredibly bothered by it. One of these days was today.

“What if they won’t like me?” He looked up to you, his chin resting on your stomach, “If they’ll dislike me for who I am? If I fail to impress them? I know they aren’t very fond of the stories about my family. Even I’m not happy about some of them,” his voice was rough as he spoke, “They’ll hate me. If not for the way I am, they might find something else to dislike about me. I know that.”

You looked down at him and brushed a hair strand out of his face. Your gaze softened, but your heart wrenched as you listened to your boyfriend’s worries, “You won’t have to impress anyone. If you’re yourself, it will be enough. You don’t have or need to put on a show for them, my love. I love you, and that’s what matters, okay?” You leaned down and kissed his forehead, he closed his eye and hummed before you continued to speak. “I know they have their opinions about your family, but I’m sure that they’ll see what I see in you once they get to know you. It will be okay, and even if it won’t be okay, you won’t lose me. I care about my family, but so do I care about you, and I won’t let any of them get between us, okay?”

“I love you so much,” Aemond whispered, his tensed shoulders dropping as he seemed more relaxed again. He gently pulled you on his lap to straddle him, “I’m most terrified to meet your father and grandfather,” he mumbled as he snuggled into your arms even more after he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder.

You chuckled and moved your arms around his neck, gently stroking his back and neck with your hands. “Well… If you want to be terrified of someone, it should be my grandma,” you warned him playfully, “My father and grandpa may seem like a dangerous and hard to crack duo, but my grandma is harder to crack than anyone else in my family.” You noticed his body tensing up again as he slowly lifted his head to look at you with an uneasy expression, “But she is one of the most loving people in the whole wide world once she gets to know you better, I promise,” you quickly added. “She’s just very protective of me and my siblings, which doesn’t mean anything negative. There just might be a few…” You exhaled, “Uncomfortable questions she might ask you, but it’s her way of making sure you’re good enough for one of her grandchildren. I’m not helping to calm you down, am I?” You whined at the end of your sentences, but he chuckled and shook his head – he felt calmer again.

“It’s okay, Issa jorrāelagon (my love),” he spoke tenderly with a small smile tugged on his lips. You kissed his cheek, which left a small amount of your lipstick on it, “Sorry,” you giggled softly and gently wiped the lipstick away with your thumb. You looked him in his lilac eye and held each other’s gaze for a moment.

Aemond leaned his forehead on your shoulder again, “Thank you for being there for me, love. I’m still nervous about the dinner, but I have you, you’re all I need to feel better.” He left a tender kiss on your collarbone and shoulder while his fingers circled on the flesh of your hips.

You kissed the side of his head and gently swayed both of you, telling him that he was good enough for you and how lucky you are to be with him. Telling him how happy you’ve been ever since you’ve met and got closer with him. That he was the love of your life, no matter what your family might think of him in the end. No matter what would happen at the dinner tonight. You’d always love him. He was your person, and you were his.

After a few minutes, you slightly pulled away from him and removed your comfort bracelet from your wrist – which he got for you on your second date. “Here,” you put the bracelet on his wrist, which caused him to smile again, “I know that it helps you every time you feel nervous. So… You’ll wear this tonight, okay, my love? I’m still going to be there at your side all night, and nothing will happen. If anyone in my family wants to say something negative, I’ll tell them to fuck off because I definitely won’t let them get between us. I promise.”

His smile widened and he moved his hands over your wrists and held your hands. He moved them to his lips and kissed your knuckles tenderly, “What would I just do without you in my life?”

You giggled softly and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “I love you so much,” you mumbled against his lips. “And I love you,” he responded and kissed you again.

Aemond felt ready for whatever might happen tonight, as long as he had you by his side, he was ready to face it all. Even if he was still worried about the potential outcome, he wasn’t going to let you go. Not after everything he was able to feel just because of you. You made him happier; you made him feel seen and loved – something he had been missing and wasn’t able to fully experience many times in his life before he met you. You were his everything.

[innerfare]

Beckman NSFW // Smut Compilation 

Summary: A compilation of Beckman smut from my multi character posts (Kisses, Going Down On You, Fingering You, Sex Toys, Playing With Your Nipples, Threesomes, His Favorite Place).

Genre: Pure Smut

CW: NSFW // toys, oral sex (Beckman giving), Daddy Dom Beckman, Big Dick Beckman, threesome x Shanks

———

Kisses: 

Doesn’t kiss you in public (or show any affection in public, really). You’re the type of couple that nobody can tell is together. But when you’re behind closed doors, you’ll receive quite a few different types of kisses: the deep and sensual kisses that always lead to something more, the slow kisses down your neck when he’s tired but wants you so bad, the lingering kisses he places on either your cheek or hand when his mind is elsewhere, the sweet kisses on your forehead before he rolls out of bed in the morning. And when his mind is elsewhere, the best way to get him out of his head is to kiss up his biceps and across his broad shoulders. 

Playing With Your Nipples: 

He’s not sure what he likes more: you sitting in his lap and feeling him up, or you sitting in his lap and letting him feel you up. But he knows his favorite thing in the world is you sitting in his lap, usually at night or in the early hours of the morning when the rest of the crew is passed out, your shirt on the floor. If your back is pressed into his chest, it’ll be mere seconds before his hands are beneath your shirt and he’s tugging on your nipples, and it won’t be long after that that he’s laying you down on his desk to suck on them. Some of the most desperate moans you’ve pulled out of this man have been as you were grinding into his massive bulge while he sucked on your nipples.   

Fingering You: 

Have you seen this man’s hands? Two of his fingers amount to a small cock. But don’t worry, he won’t be too mean about it. Sure, he’ll expect you to call him daddy, and no, he won’t let you hide your face or cover your mouth to stop yourself from moaning, but he’ll take it nice and slow, stroking your clit until you’re begging for his fingers inside you because you just feel so empty without him penetrating you, then probing your weepy little entrance, gently pushing one big finger in and only adding another when you’re creaming for him. “That’s my good girl,” he’ll tell you as you adjust to the size of his hands, “taking daddy’s fingers just like you’re supposed to.” When he’s not heaping praise on you, he’s kissing you, his tongue pushing into your mouth while his fingers thrust in and out of your cunt. And once you’ve cum, he’ll deem you ready to take his cock. (Big Dick Beckman always preps you). 

Going Down On You: 

“Come here, babygirl. That's it.”  

Beckman drinks your juices like a nightcap. He’ll put you on his desk, the moonlight filtering in through the window and a lamp flickering in the corner, and unzip his pants to give his massive erection some breathing room before turning his attention to his babygirl. He likes to start slow, taking his sweet time with your nipples and leaving a trail of hickies around them, before finally burying his face between your shaking legs.  

“Give daddy a taste.” 

He’s nice and sweet about it, but don’t think he won’t hold you down if you start to squirm around too much. He goes down on you like you need it, not like you want it; he goes down on you like it’s for your own good. It’s for his own good, too, that thing that takes the edge off and helps him wind down after a stressful day. He wants your legs wrapped around his head and your hands tangled in his long hair. 

Oh, and he wants you to tell him that he owns you. Nobody else is allowed to taste your pussy; it's all his, and you'd better chant that while he draws your orgasm out of you. 

His Favorite Place: 

He’s a simple man, and he likes his privacy. If you’re aboard the Red Force, he wants you in his office with the door locked, the one place the crew will leave him alone. It's by far his favorite place to go down on you, making you put your feet up on the desk and hold your own legs open while he laps leisurely at your folds. But he much prefers fucking you in your home, where he can stretch his legs a bit, and that means relaxing on the sofa while you ride him, bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking you dumb, and putting your legs over his broad shoulders while you call him daddy in your bed. 

Threesome Headcanons 1: 

Beckman doesn’t share often, but when he does, it’s exclusively with Shanks. Shanks insisting Beckman’s cock is too big for you and ordering you to ride his face first. You trying your best to suck Beckman’s huge cock while Shanks tongues you but struggling to do anything with the captain working between your legs. Shanks finally relenting and allowing Beckman to skewer you on his cock, jerking himself off while he watches. Beckman starting slow because he’s well aware of his size and pounding into you by the end. You can’t even speaks by the time Shanks is fucking you. Shanks acting lazy the entire time but he’s calling all the shots. 

Sex Toys: 

Keeps a vibrator in his desk drawer to use on you when he’s working late and you come looking for him. He keeps another on the nightstand because it’s a really good way to loosen you up and prepare you to take his cock (big dick Beckman is basically cannon). He doesn’t really use it on you while he's inside you, though, because you end up clenching much harder on his cock and it makes you so sore (downside of big dick Beckman). 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[thoughtfulfiction]

Social Media QB

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

The reputation of the Chargers social media team was unmatched. They are known for being funny and up to date on all memes and pop culture references while also showcasing players’ personalities. That alone made you apply and this past year on the job had really been a once in a lifetime experience. Working with Megan and the crew was a daily adventure and you were becoming more and more comfortable calling the guys your friends. It even got to a point where you didn’t even call them by their names anymore.

Quentin was usually just “Q.” JK was always “J’Kaylin”, Derwin was “3” and your favorite nickname was definitely calling Justin “Sunshine.” At first it was a Remember the Titans reference but it became a lifestyle. Everything and everyone revolves around the sun and that’s exactly what it felt like when you were at work. All of the players were important and special but you could just feel the energy in the room shift when Justin was there. It was palpable, it almost took your breath away sometimes.

Off camera he was goofy, funny and had this uncanny ability to make the world stand still for a bit, even just for a few fleeting moments where it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. But then reality would hit and you were reminded that you work for the team and he’d never see you in that way, he was just nice to everyone he encountered. But on camera? It was all fun and games. There was a running joke, mostly based on his real feelings, that Justin hated cameras. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention or having people perceive him so he avoided the social media team altogether when phones were pointed in his direction. 

But sometimes, a rarity, you were able to get him on camera, even if it was just for a split second. The two of you reviewed the questions he was going to be asked before their Hot Ones appearance and there was ALWAYS a discussion, more like subtle begging if you all were going to have him participate in any content.

“We need Justin for this new segment we’re doing, so you’re gonna have to talk to him.” Megan sighs, grabbing her Stanley cup that was sitting on the counter. She’d just finished editing a video where she and her assistant put fart spray on the tiny mic and could still smell the rancid scent until she grabbed some Lysol spray to de-funk the place.

You were going through photos taken during practice earlier that morning and deciding which ones to post and without looking up you asked her, “why do I have to do it?”

Lorren and Allie giggle in the corner, shaking their heads. “You cannot be serious right now y/n,” Lorren gives you a pointed look.

“What?”

“We all know you and Justin have a thing for each other. Even if you won’t admit to us…or yourself. It’s pretty obvious.”

You finally raise your head up from your laptop, staring at them while also wracking your brain trying to figure out when your innocent crush had become so painfully obvious. If the girls knew, then Justin had probably somehow caught on and the thought of that made you want to dig a hole right outside on the practice field and never come out. “Is—am I that easy to read?”

“No one blames you,” Megan runs a loving hand on your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ve been trying so hard to hide your feelings that you haven’t noticed that he’s doing an even worse job of hiding his massive crush on you.”

The look on your face sends the room into a fit of laughter. “We’re being serious. The way he looks at you and acts around you. Anyone can see he’s into you friend.”

You weren’t convinced, “I need an example.”

“Okay fine,” Lorren stands up to prepare a demonstration. “He wasn’t ready to put the mics on when he was mic’d up until you walked over and helped him get the mic in the perfect spot in his pads. And then he wore the friendship bracelet for six weeks because you handed it to him.”

Allie pipes up to put in her two cents. “And let’s not forget when he had you driving him around the golf tournament and kicked Zion to the curb. There’s no way all of those are just a coincidence.”

“Fine. I’ll go ask him if he’ll shoot the video for us but I’m not going to lose my job because of a meaningless crush on the starting quarterback.”

You waited around for the guys to leave treatment after practice and caught up with him on his way out. “Hey Sunshine, quick question for you.”

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he gives you a small tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“I need you to do me a huge favor and be in this tik tok. It’s a short game and it’ll only take like 15 minutes.”

His deadpan face and disappointed dad sigh has you practically begging, saying “please” in your finest sing-song tone.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You knew he’d crack, he always did. “On one condition. You also have to participate.”

You hold your hand out and he engulfs it with his much larger one. “You’ve got yourself a deal Herbert.”

“Okay the rules of the game are simple,” Megan begins from behind her phone screen before hitting record, “we’re going to give you these Canadian snacks and you’ll rate them on a scale from 1 to 10. One being it’s awful I’ll never touch that again and 10 being a solid snack that you’d eat everyday if given the opportunity.”

You and Justin nod, diving in on everything from the ketchup chips to the toffee. The video didn’t take long as promised and the quarterback went about the rest of his day with no further distractions.

In your office a few days later on the team’s off day, you were contemplating your life. Maybe you should take a step back from him so people don't get the wrong idea. Sure, your coworkers were convinced the crush was mutual but what if he was just being nice? He was always so focused on football and making the most out of every opportunity. Why in the world would he waste time flirting with a social media manager? It just made no sense. Instead of continuing to run a million imaginary scenarios in your mind you packed up your stuff and tried heading out to the parking lot. Even after all this time you still struggled to maneuver all the twists and turns of the building and somehow found yourself walking past the quarterback room. You intended to just keep walking but he was in there alone and called out your name when he saw you.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone would be in the building today.” His bright eyes staring down at you made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You desperately needed to get it together.

“I came in to finish up a few things but I’m heading out now. What are you doing? I think you’ve watched enough film to last you a couple lifetimes.” That gets a light chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, the two of you knowing that his quest for perfection would never allow him to believe he’s watched enough film. “Thank you for shooting that video the other day. The fans are gonna love it, they’re always begging us to get you on camera.”

“No problem, anything for you.” He clears his throat after whispering the last part, desperately hoping that you didn’t hear it. Even though you definitely did. You should go home for the day and leave him alone in the office so he can get back to work. You should stop staring at his lips that look so soft and just begging to be kissed. He should turn around and get back to the playbook and the computer but here he is, standing still, right in front of you.

You’re just there, waiting for someone to rip the carpet out from under you, to fall on your face, for someone to tell you that this isn’t actually happening. The space between your bodies diminishes significantly, so much so that you can smell the Dr. Squatch Birchwood Breeze radiating off of him. It’s intoxicating and you swallow the fear in your gut and ignore all of the common sense thoughts plaguing your mind, allowing you to feel.

The kiss is tentative at first, he pulls back slightly, whispering if it’s okay to keep going as you feel his breath against your lips. You don’t respond but instead pull him in closer, hearing a satisfied husky moan from him as he allows your tongue access to his. His right palm rests against your cheek until he’s tilting your head up ever so slightly to deepen the embrace and he pulls you in even closer, holding on for dear life while closing and locking the door behind you. It was so much more than he imagined, these feelings that he’d been pushing aside were being confronted and magnified by the second. This innocent crush that you had on him were genuine, real feelings that created a deep ache in your bones, actively being soothed with his hands all over you as the two of you made out like helpless teenagers.

You didn’t think you’d have the strength to tear yourself away from him…until his phone rings. He ignores it the first time but it’s all you can think about by the fifth ring.

“Answer it,” you whisper breathlessly and you can feel him hesitating to pry himself away from you. The heat that was radiating off of his body that you felt being so close to him sends shivers down your spine at the sudden distance. A thousand unspoken apologies are painted on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He keeps the call short and sweet but the look of devastation is clear when he hangs up. “You have to go don’t you?”

He nods. “I’m so sorry. We can—we need to talk about this I know. And I promise we will. I just—I need to take care of this.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. Even if he knows you understand. Justin presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers another “I’m sorry” leaving you in the room to think about what just happened.

You walk around the empty parking lot until you reach your car, letting out a deep sigh at the thought of what the conversation with him is going to look like after this. You need to be mentally prepared for good news, bad news and everything in between.

He is the sun after all. And sometimes when you stand too close, you might get burned. And maybe, just maybe, you’d avoid the burn altogether and bask in the warmth as long as you can.

[clegfly]

PUTER MASTERPOST AT LAST!!!

If you’re one of the people that asked me for this, the wait is over!!

To my pleasant surprise since I started it puter has become probably the most popular thing I’ve made which I’m SO grateful for… so, I thought it only fair to give the people what they ask for and make a full master post compiling all the content I’ve made for the au thus far!! This will be updated as I post, hopefully.

Keep in mind that puter is still a work in progress, so there will be a lot that doesn’t work or make sense yet, but trust me, I’m working on it! Remember, patience is key!!

So, without further ado, here it is!!!

Quick Summary

For anyone wondering what puter actually is, here’s the gist:

Following the events of OMORI’s neutral ending (specifically the one in which basil dies… specific variation of THAT isn’t too key at the moment but that might change for plot reasons…), five years after the move, with some help from his mother, sunny is improving… very slightly. In fact, he’s had enough motivation to pull together a shitty little flash game, fuelled by his past passion for them. He’s still not fully all there, and he still spends most of his time in headspace asleep, but now he has SOMETHING to work on outside of it, and it’s giving him the slightest reason and encouragement to wake up each morning. The slightest.

And, notably, one of the characters in said shitty flash game is actually based on Mari… Even when he isn’t really trying to, he ends up putting her in the game anyway, because he wants mari to be safe, and he’s so consumed by guilt and regret that he feels obliged to make her in worlds where she can be okay. Another sort of subconscious way of both immortalising her and apologising to her in another fun, perfect world of his design, where no harm can befall her, and everything is perfect. He didn’t kill her. They never argued. Mari is okay. Mari is fine, again. He’s sorry. He’s so, so sorry.

However… this stand in mari character actually gains sentience and becomes self aware, convincing itself that it truly is mari… leading to a LOT of stuff. We call her “mariware” over here, by the way!

The au’s actual storyline takes place years after this, following kel after he visits sunny’s mother five years after his mysterious suicide, and possessing a flash drive containing her son’s game… and, as we know, something else.

As stated like thirty times at this point… VERY work in progress!!! But I do have most of it figured out… though I’m not sure how to convey it as an actual story yet… but that will come with time, I’m sure!!!

Lore/ Canon Posts

Posts I’ve made for puter which are actual pieces I’ve put thought into and are canonical to the au. Have fun!!

ERHUSGKSCAE UEGGVXAE

SILBVRUW

IHX UEPJMCE

BUKLIEGV!

ULTAL QTMKE

UUG

Doodles/ Sketches

Here is where you can find all my non-canon doodles and sketches for the au!!

Concept art

Awful dithering test

Cleg gets the artstyle right for the first time

Click and drag

Antivirus

Club penguin

Kel design concept sketch

Microsoft paint

Mariware bromine brush 1

Mariware bromine brush 2

Mariware boingoingoingoing

Wrong

Fries

She wants to KILL

Heromari

Get a job bozo

Sir this is a Wendy’s

Teaser

IHX IVPJMKEL

…

…huh? Is something else meant to be here?…

…

…maybe it’s not ready yet.

[omegothic]

okay but chocobros as killjoys. i think i just opened a portal to hell

noctis as party poison because he is the main character

prompto as kobra kid because blond and cute

gladio as fun ghoul because i feel like they are the most temperamental

and ignis as jet star because mom friend yeah

and both stories end bad. love the loser kings

[vincess-princess]

in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 20

Word count: 5302 Warnings: violence, NON-CON, vomit A/N: we're finally here fellas. after such a long time. here comes the second sex scene. (proceed with caution)

“You’re in luck – it didn’t inflame,” Izzy said, wrapping back the bandage around Vince’s arm. “Now the shoulder… Hm, also not bad. I’m almost sure you’re gonna live.”

“Almost?”

“Well, men die of stupidest of reasons. A wave might hit the ship while you’re on pooping deck and you’ll fall overboard. Only God knows how you’ll die.”

Wrong, Vince thought grimly. He was pretty sure how he would die. From Nikki’s hands or complications of injuries he would give – or had given - him. But he didn’t tell Izzy that.

“Alright, I can safely say you’re one of the healthiest people on this ship right now, so off you go. I have many more patients to attend.”

“Anyone with something serious?”

“Bret had his knee ligaments cut. I doubt he’ll ever walk unassisted again. Dave had his hand cut off, and I don’t like the look of his stump. But that’s probably it. We got off this one very lightly.”

“We did. Thanks, man.” Vince got up from the bunk. “See you.”

The sun shone brightly on the deck, and the dried blood made the ship smell like a slaughterhouse. Not that Vince had ever been in one, but that was what he imagined a slaughterhouse would smell. A crewmate he didn’t know was washing the deck in a very leisurely fashion, his face grim. Vince should have been in his place, but Mick convinced Tommy he needed him on the galley, and Vince was very thankful. The food didn’t smell as bad, at least.

His gratitude disappeared when Vince returned to the galley and was immediately berated.

“I said, ten minutes max! You’ve been away at least half an hour!” Mick raged. “Did Stradlin conduct a full-body exam there or something?”

To be honest, Vince and Izzy did spend some time over a mug of beer, but to Vince it seemed barely five minutes long. Either Mick was way exaggerating the time he was away, or the beer really messed up Vince’s perception of time. Whatever it was, Vince didn’t want to anger Mick, who had just barely warmed up to him again.

“Sorry,” he raised his hands in an apologetic gesture. “What do you need me to do?”

“Bring plates and cutlery up on the deck while I watch the pot. We’re already late with breakfast.”

Vince had already learned, through trial and error, how to climb up onto the deck with one hand holding a stack of plates. Though it did help that they were made of tin. At first Vince was disgusted at the mere thought of eating off them, stained no matter how hard he washed them, making food taste metallic, but now he didn’t care. He was happy as long as there was food on those plates.

Pirates, seeing him line up plates on the deck, began gathering around him. There’d never been conflicts over food, because everyone got their share, but everyone wanted to get the portion from the top of the pot, where it didn’t burn and stick to the bottom. Vince, by virtue of being the one distributing, usually got his portion one of the last, so he sure understood them. But as much as Vince looked, he couldn’t see the captain and his first mate. Which was bad, because if they wouldn’t come out on deck to get their portions themselves, he would have to deliver them to the cabin, and Vince had no desire whatsoever to go there.

Soon Mick brought out the steaming hot pot of porridge, a loaf of bread and a jug of beer. Everyone got their portions. The captain and his first mate didn’t come.

The porridge tasted more metallic than usual, like someone dripped blood in it. But the color was the usual greyish beige, the thickness the same too. That was probably just a particularly shitty plate.

Mick had set aside two plates for the captain and the first mate, but didn’t yet tell Vince to go deliver them. He probably just forgot, and Vince kept nursing hope that they would come out and get their portions themselves eventually. At least until the porridge gets cold, because it was even less edible that way and was sure to piss Nikki off.

Finally Vince saw Tommy walk out of the cabin and head towards them with a springy step.

“Oh, I see breakfast is already over,” he said upon approach. “Hope you left some for us, Mick?”

“Of course I did.” Mick rolled his eyes. “I am not yet ready to walk the plank.”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate. Nikki is unpleasant when hungry, but not that unpleasant.” Tommy turned to Vince. “C’mon. Help me bring Nikki the food.”

And here it was, his biggest fear. He only hoped Tommy was gonna eat with Nikki and hold him back somewhat.

Vince put a piece of bread on the edge of the plate and grabbed it with one hand and a mug of beer with the other. Tommy did the same with his portion and immediately took a sip from his mug.

“Ew, warm. Let’s go.”

They walked across the deck to the captain’s cabin, a knot of fear in Vince’s stomach growing tighter with every step. Then, when they reached the cabin, instead of knocking on the door Tommy turned to him.

“He’s still mighty pissed over Hetfield’s betrayal. So if you wanna walk out of here on your own two feet: don’t act up. Don’t look him in the eye. Don’t resist. Don’t talk back. Just do what he says, alright? You have only brushed the surface of what he’s capable of. Don’t dive deeper.”

“Well, that’s encouraging,” Vince tried to spit out a laugh, to show he was not afraid, but it sounded more like a pained choke and didn’t convince Tommy in any way whatsoever. He sent Vince a sharp gaze and turned to kick the door - his hands were occupied.

Nikki opened after one kick. He looked like he had a very bad night: disheveled, his features deeper and sharper than usual, his pupils so wide they almost fully covered the irises. The draft flowing through the door carried with it a strong smell of spirits.

“Finally,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It sure took you a lot of time to fetch him, T-bone.”

“C’mon, I was away for hardly more than five minutes,” Tommy said cheerily, like it wasn’t him just warning Vince of Nikki’s awful mood. “He brought you breakfast, too. Please eat; it helps the hangover.”

Oh. Nikki didn’t send for breakfast, which incidentally included Vince. He sent for him in particular, which was way worse than Vince thought.

“Eggs don’t teach the chicken,” Nikki grumbled. Then, in a more businesslike voice, continued. “I want you to send men to scour the Metallica; I heard they’ve had a good raid recently, maybe they haven’t spent it all yet. Take anything we can sell. Also bring in Mick so he can look at the food and see what we can take. I want this ship looted to the last hold.”

“You want to sell it or drown?”

“Drown, of course. His Majesty the King will surely look for his faithful servants, and we don’t want to leave any traces.”

“Pity.” Tommy sighed. “She’s a good ship. I’ll be on my way then. Have fun, you two.”

Vince’s stomach dropped. Yeah, that was going to be exactly what he feared. Fun for Nikki, sure; for Vince? Not so much.

The door closed behind him, cutting of the light of the sun and the fresh sea air. The cabin was dark and stuffy inside, the curtain barely letting in sunlight. Everything was in disarray. What was he even doing here to make such a mess?

“Don’t just stand there! Put the food on the table!” Nikki ordered in an irritated voice. Then he looked the table over and pushed a few empty bottles and books off it to make space for the plate and the mug. Vince carefully lowered them on the table and backed off, trying to get out of Nikki’s sight. Maybe he’d just forget about him then.

Nikki sat down to eat and poked the porridge with his spoon.

“This looks like glue,” he said. “Tastes, too. Did Mick cook it?”

“Yes.”

“Weird. His cooking game is usually better than this.” Still, despite his distaste, he began eating rather hungrily. A hangover does that to a man, Vince thought.

“I’m also gonna ask him about your performance,” Nikki said suddenly. “Gotta make sure you’re earning your food and not slacking off.”

“I’m not,” Vince said carefully, rubbing at the already permanent creases on his fingers from all the dish-washing.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Nikki finished his porridge and reached for his beer. “Tell me more about how hardworking you are.”

Vince bit his lip to not let out a spiteful remark. This was a man spending the majority of his days drinking in his cabin or messing around with his first mate. Sure, maybe he slaved away earlier in life to get where he was, but now he had no right to tell Vince he wasn’t hardworking enough.

“Truth stings, huh?” Nikki grinned, spotting Vince’s changed expression. “In my opinion, you have too much free time on your hands. Mick’s got a soft spot for you – I didn’t expect that of him, but whatever - and lets you slack off, but I’m gonna put an end to this. In between working the galley you’ll also be cleaning my cabin.”

Vince clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug deep into his palms. It wasn’t even extra work that bothered him – it was just that it would be even harder to avoid the captain. And cleaning his cabin, constantly being watched by him, subject to whatever he wished to do at any moment in time… hell on earth.

Nikki watched him with a smug grin.

“Well, what do you say?”

“Does it matter what I have to say?” Vince said through gritted teeth. Nikki’s grin widened.

“That’s right, it doesn’t. Glad you understand that.” He rose from his chair and stepped towards Vince.

Vince stepped back before his brain could even process the act. He stared at Nikki’s feet, ready to catch the next step he would make. But Nikki didn’t, just tilted his head and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Backing away from me, huh? Don’t want me to touch you?”

A question with no right answers. Again. As usual, Vince didn’t reply, just kept staring at Nikki’s feet. He refused to look Nikki in the eyes, but not because he was guilty; he feared what he could see behind that grin, in these cold green eyes. Rage. Hate. Lust.

Nikki stepped forward. Vince stepped back.

“You’re afraid of me? You think I will hurt you?”

Of course I am. Of course you will.

“You think there’s a reason for me to hurt you? Is that because you’re guilty of something?”

Another step. Vince stepped back, words hardening in his throat, not willing to leave his mouth. He shook his head ferociously, but Nikki wasn’t convinced.

“Look at you. All shaking, staring at the floor. That’s not a look of an honest man that has nothing to hide.”

Another step. Vince backed away – and his foot met resistance. He pressed his back into the wall of the cabin. There was no way out – Nikki stood between him and the door.

“I didn’t do it.” The words finally spilled out of his mouth. “I didn’t conspire with that man, Hetfield. I’ve never met him.”

“I didn’t even say anything about Hetfield, and your first thought was him? That’s what you think you’re guilty of?”

Nikki was very close now, mere inches between them. Vince shrunk his head into his shoulders. Nikki’s breath ruffled his hair.

“No,” Vince croaked. The knot of fear in his stomach spread into his limbs, making his hands shake and his throat close up. “I just- you lashed out at me for this in the galley. So I thought-“

“You thought,” Nikki said slowly and cupped Vince’s chin gently. For now. “You definitely have too much free time on your hands.”

And then his grip hardened, and he slammed Vince’s head into the wall. Sharp pain spiked through Vince’s skull, the world went white for a second. His hands instinctively flew up and grasped at Nikki’s arms, but his grip was unyielding. Nikki’s nails were digging into Vince’s cheek so deeply Vince feared they would tear right through the thin skin.

“I wonder when you managed to do that.” Nikki’s voice was as though coming from afar, even though his face was inches away from Vince’s. “Meet up with Metallicos, I mean. It sure happened in Port Royal, but I’ve been keeping an eye of you the entire time. So when?..”

“I didn’t.” Vince’s voice betrayed him and came out really hoarse and quiet. “I never met up with any-“

Another slam. Pain flashed in the back of his head and spread through it like a spider’s web, enveloping Vince’s brain, evaporating every coherent thought. He didn’t even notice he bit through his lip until his saliva tasted metallic.

“Liar,” Nikki said coldly. “Filthy, dirty liar. Caught red-handed and still trying to weasel away from it. Typical for your kind.”

What kind, a thought flashed through Vince’s mind, but it was gone as fast as it came. He was frantically searching for words that would convince Nikki he was innocent – and couldn’t. Whatever he said, Nikki would find a way to turn it against him.

He spoke anyway. “If I conspired with them. I wouldn’t kill those two. In the galley.”

“Maybe you realised they were losing and tried to cover your ass.” Nikki narrowed his eyes.

“I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know who they were. I swear!” The last word rose in pitch and trailed off. Nikki looked at Vince… not with hate, not with rage. Like an artist admiring his work of art.

“Anyway, that doesn’t matter now. All the Metallicos are dead, and I’ll make sure you have no chance to plan against me ever again.”

And then he released his grip. Turned out it was the only thing holding Vince upright, and now he slid down the wall, his knees weak. His heart was racing, his vision blurry. Dull pain spread from the back of his head, fogging his thoughts.

He forced himself to stay alert and watch Nikki, who stepped back, looking Vince over, another smug grin on his lips. Seeing that cold, handsome face, the face of a person who held Vince’s fate in his hands and fiddled with it however he wanted, cemented Vince’s fear into hate. No one should be allowed to wield complete power over a person. That makes them think themselves godly.

“On your knees,” Nikki said.

Tommy’s words came to mind. Don’t resist. You have only brushed the surface of what he’s capable of.

Vince’s elbows shook when he tried to prop himself up from the floor. White flashed before his eyes at the mere movement, making him halt to come to his senses. Nikki didn’t like the wait.

“Hurry up!” He kicked Vince in the side. “I’m not wasting an entire day on you!”

Vince suppressed a pained cry and scrambled to get onto his knees. He already had a suspicion, and now that Nikki began unfastening his belt, it proved itself true.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Vince said hoarsely. He didn’t even know why he said that. It sure wouldn’t convince Nikki not to do it. “I’ve never-“

“Then it’s time to learn,” Nikki replied cheerfully. His hand ruffled Vince’s hair, then gripped onto it and pulled his head back.

“You can’t imagine how gorgeous you are,” he said, rubbing Vince’s temple with his thumb, “like this. That’s where you belong.”

A hot ball of shame burst in Vince’s stomach, poisoning his whole body. He really wished his family thought he was dead. Because he wouldn’t be able to look them in the eye after this.

His face must have reflected his thoughts, because Nikki pulled at his hair and laughed.

“Don’t like that? But it’s true. The faster you learn to accept it, the better for you.”

Then he unbuttoned his pants and took out his half-hard cock. Vince couldn’t hold back a grimace - Nikki must have not washed himself since Port Royal. Vince too, sure, but he wasn’t making anyone smell his crotch, after all.

“Yeah, seafaring life has its limits. Get used to it,” Nikki said, lining the tip of his cock to Vince’s lips. “Open your mouth. And mind your teeth.”

Yeah, it tasted even worse than it smelled. Vince’s first instinct was to spit it out, but Nikki’s grip on his hair was too tight. Instead Vince concentrated on suppressing his retching. Surely Nikki wouldn’t be pleased if he vomits all over his cabin.

Nikki didn’t give him much time to get used to it. He thrusted his hips forward impatiently, making Vince gag.

“If you don’t work on it yourself, I’ll just fuck your throat,” he threatened.

Yeah, he would surely vomit if Nikki did that. Vince had no other choice.

He recalled what the maids and prostitutes he slept with did and tried to copy that: carefully run his tongue along Nikki’s cock, then moved his head up and down the length. These whores were professionals, after all. He should have been paying attention to their techniques.

Nikki’s trembling gasp told him he was doing the right thing. His fingers grasped Vince’s hair tighter.

“Keep it up,” he ordered. “Just like that.”

Vince began moving his lips up and down Nikki’s cock, alternating speeds: slower, faster, slower again. It was harder than he thought: soon his knees began to hurt, and his tongue got tired. That was when he made a mistake.

“Ouch! Teeth!” Nikki pulled Vince’s head back by the hair, his cock slid out of Vince’s mouth. “Told you to be careful, little bastard!”

Then he slapped Vince with his free hand. It wasn’t really strong, or painful, but Vince’s poor head had gone through a lot that day already, so the world went blurry for a couple moments. Vince blinked forcefully to clear his vision and saw Nikki, frowning, expecting an answer.

“Sorry, sir.” He wiped a string of saliva on his chin. “You know I’ve never done this before.”

“That’s the only reason you’re not getting your ass kicked right now,” Nikki grumbled, pulling Vince back to his crotch. “But only this first time.”

Sucking dick turned out to be harder than Vince expected. He had to fold his lips under his teeth, and that made them go numb really fast. It was especially hard when moving quickly, and Nikki was at the stage of arousal when slowing down would anger him. To be fair, though, Vince managed that in completely non-sexual situations just as well, so the issue probably ran deeper than that.

“Come on,” Nikki growled, rocking his hips forward. “Faster!”

Now that his cock was fully hard, the threat of vomiting all over the cabin was getting more and more real. And Nikki, dissatisfied with Vince’s speed, took the matter into his own hands – literally: he wrapped his hands around Vince’s head and began violently thrusting into his mouth. The very throat-fucking he threatened Vince with.

It did not go well at all. Vince’s eyes watered, breath faltered, the dull pain in the back of his head sharpened and spread. And, the worst of it, his breakfast rose to his throat, threatening to spill out every second.

Vince frantically tapped on Nikki’s arm, trying to attract attention, but Nikki didn’t even notice. Trying to wrangle his head out of Nikki’s grip also failed. Nikki was so consumed in the action he didn’t even notice Vince’s fussing.

Well, there was no other choice. Vince pushed Nikki away, and when his hands met resistance, kicked him in the knee, making him gasp in pain, lose balance and fall. But that did make Nikki release his grip, letting Vince turn in the opposite direction and empty his stomach on the floor.

The porridge looked only slightly better on the plate than it did now. But it sure smelled and tested better, not mixed with stomach bile then. The taste was so bitter and nauseating that for a second Vince considered licking the wooden cabin floor, just to wipe it off his tongue.

He heard Nikki groan behind him and turned his head just in time to see him get up from the floor and limp towards him. The expression on his face made Vince’s already long-suffering stomach drop.

“I’m sorry-“ he began, but Nikki didn’t let him continue. With a strong kick he turned Vince’s body on his stomach, grabbed his hair and slammed his head against the floor.

This time it took Vince longer to come around, and it wasn’t pleasant. For a second he was sure he went blind, but then the vision returned, blurry, with white sparkles dancing in front of his eyes. And a sharp pain where Nikki’s hand pulled him by the hair.

“You little, dirty-“ he heard, the words barely audible through the ringing in his ears. “Eat your own shit.”

And then he dragged Vince to the puddle of vomit. Just before Nikki pressed his face into it, Vince propped himself up on his arms, his face inches away from the puddle. It was good he wasn’t wearing a shirt anymore – his skin didn’t soak it up like fabric would.

“Eat, dog!” Nikki growled, pressing on the back of Vince’s head. Pain spread through his neck and shoulders, but by mere miracle Vince kept his head up. He was willing to go far to not anger Nikki, but this was farther than that.

While Nikki was occupied pressing onto his head, Vince fumbled his leg until it met resistance – and then kicked as hard as he could. He hit the target: Nikki hissed in pain and let him go – just for a moment, but it was enough for Vince to roll away from the puddle of vomit, scraping his elbows on the hard floor.

Nikki was rubbing his leg and wincing – apparently, Vince kicked him in the injured one. Otherwise Nikki wouldn’t let him go so easily after just a kick, Vince realised. And he sure wasn’t going to let him go so easily now. Vince pissed him off so bad his face wasn’t even twisted in anger – it was now an expressionless mask, and his eyes were black, like a demon’s, even though his pupils were probably just unnaturally wide.

Nikki walked towards him. Vince crawled away – or, rather, tried to, because Nikki gripped his ankle and dragged him back to the center of the room.

“I was willing to let you go unharmed today if you pleased me,” he said, voice low. “But you didn’t please me at all.”

Then he kicked Vince in the ribs. One kick, two, three… then Vince lost count. Putting his arms in the way didn’t help at all, so he curled up in an embryo’s pose and covered his head with his hands, but Nikki still managed to get to the most vulnerable spots on his body.

“Scream!” Nikki yelled, kicking him once again. “Scream for fucking mercy!”

Vince would have, but he had no voice left. The only sound he could manage was quiet wheezing. He couldn’t even breathe: just as he inhaled, Nikki’s boot would kick the air out of his lungs. The edges of his vision darkened, his tongue tasted blood in addition to stomach bile.  At some point he distinctly felt one of his ribs crack under the assault.

Vince didn’t properly register when it all stopped: the pain consumed his whole being, dimmed all his perceptions. It took him a couple minutes to realise the kicks weren’t coming anymore. He peeked between his arms and saw Nikki’s legs pacing back and forth in and out of his field of vision. The floor planks vibrated under his feet.

Vince tried to inhale and began to cough violently. Blood splattered on the floor under his mouth. But when he finally got some air into his lungs, his chest exploded with pain. One of the ribs was tangibly shifting under his skin, every its movement sending sharp spikes of pain throughout his torso. Oh god. Was that even curable?

Nikki approached and squatted next to him. All Vince could see were his boots, boots that had just rammed into his flesh, bruising and breaking it. Then Nikki’s hand came into view and pushed Vince in the shoulder, turning him onto his back.

“So, how do you like that?” Nikki said completely casually. Vince would laugh at the contrast if it didn’t hurt so much.

“I don’t,” he croaked, his voice so raspy it was like his vocal cords got tied in a knot, and wiped snot and blood from his lips and chin. “Do you?”

“Does a teacher enjoy beating his bratty student? Or does he do it out of concern, to help him grow into a good person?” Nikki said philosophically.

“I think you do,” Vince continued, ignoring his reply. “We both know you aren’t doing this to make me better or something. It arouses you, to beat me up, to humiliate me. You get off of it.”

Nikki looked at him silently for a while, his expression unreadable. Then an uncanny grin widened on his face.

“I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to here. It’s a big problem of yours, forgetting what your place is. We should work on that.”

He rose from the floor, his hand reaching for a knife on his belt. Whatever he was going to do Vince already didn’t like. But mere movement caused so much pain he could only writhe on the floor, let alone protect himself. When Nikki pried his body with his boot and turned him onto his stomach, his rib – broken? cracked? – reacted to it with a burst of pain so violent tears welled in Vince’s eyes. He breathed heavily, every inhale painful, and stared at the floor, where his blood, snot and tears all trickled down and mixed into small puddles. It was all foreplay to him, wasn’t it? Maybe Nikki was finally gonna fuck him and leave him alone. It now seemed the best thing out of all Nikki did to Vince today.

Then something heavy lowered onto Vince’s butt and pressed him to the floor, making him hiss in pain. Nikki saddled him from behind and fidgeted there a bit, getting comfortable. Then his cold fingers gently ran across Vince’s back.

“So soft, and not a single defect. Skin can tell a lot about a person, you know. Yours, for example, reveals just how easy a life you’ve had.” Nikki’s hand gathered loose strands of hair sticking to Vince’s back and moved them to his ears. “We should fix that.”

Vince knew what he was going to do, but this knowledge didn’t reduce the pain in a slightest. When the blade submerged into his skin just above his right shoulder blade, Vince couldn’t hold back whimpering. Much as he wanted to endure it like a man, with silent dignity, it didn’t happen. Fear, pure primal fear struck him, and he began kicking his legs, twisting his hips and flailing his arms, trying to push Nikki off his back.

Nikki was heavy enough that it didn’t bother him much, but it did interrupt the process, so he pressed Vince’s head to the floor with one hand and shifted his weight to it. Vince’s legs and arms couldn’t reach him now, and the pressure to his poor head and the all-consuming pain rendered him barely conscious.

He could only lay here and take it all in. Sharp pain following the knife carving something on his skin; hot drops of blood rolling down his back and drip onto the floor; throbbing ache in his lower chest; cold hard wooden floor; nauseating smell of vomit and blood; the heaviness of Nikki’s body on his own. It all was so much that he didn’t notice himself scratch the floor so hard his fingers left bloody traces on it.

At some point Vince lost consciousness. He wasn’t sure how much time he spent that way and how soon Nikki discovered it, but the awakening – a bucket of cold water – was extremely unpleasant.

“Hell no, you ain’t missing out on this,” Nikki said, throwing the bucket away. It rattled loudly across the floor, the sound as though driving nails into Vince’s head. Then Nikki got down to continue his work.

Vince couldn’t scream or cry anymore: he went out of tears, and his throat was so parched no sound could come out of it. He wished for death to come take him. Why had God forsaken him? Sure, he wasn’t overly pious in his life, he made his mistakes and committed his sins, but was it really so bad as to warrant such a punishment? Did he die in that first battle, and this was his own private hell? Was Nikki really human, or the Devil that had personally come to torture Vince? Was it all even real? Was he still alive? Was this pain forever?

He didn’t notice Nikki stop: the carving on his back burned too hot, too sharp to acknowledge whether there were still changes made to it. But then Nikki squatted down next to Vince’s face, a bloody knife in his hand.

“What do you say now?”

Vince said nothing.

“That is right. Finally you got it. Pity it took me all this blood and puke to get it into your stupid head.”

He rose to his feet.

“C’mon. Get up. Time to have some fun.”

Vince didn’t move. Nikki sighed.

“I see. Ideally, I should punish you for not following my orders, but, quite frankly, I’ve had enough of that. This foreplay has got too damn long.”

He hooked his arms under Vince’s armpits, lifted him off the floor and dropped him on the bed. The broken rib shifted under Vince’s skin again, but he barely noticed that. He barely noticed anything, to be fair. The world was swimming in front of his eyes, completely going black some moments, the sounds came as though through a thick layer of glass. His head couldn’t handle a half-coherent thought. He understood what Nikki was gonna do and he didn’t care anymore. Couldn’t be worse than what he had already done.

He was right. The sex was the mildest thing he had done to him that day. Vince did distantly register Nikki move inside him and moan into his back, but that was all to it. What was he even afraid of? This was so harmless, so painless. His ass might hurt for a couple hours after that, yes, but that was it. It was practically nothing.

Vince didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually Nikki came and pulled out. Then he pulled up his pants and yelled something out of the cabin door. Soon someone else came in.

“Holy shit.” Tommy.

“What?”

“What the- what the hell did you do?”

“Taught him some manners.”

“You beat him half-dead!”

“Unfortunately, that’s what it took.”

Silence.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take him to Izzy, or to the galley, or, I dunno, drop him off in the hold somewhere. Just get him out of my sight.”

The bedsheet under Vince’s body shifted. Tommy wrapped him in it, picked him up and carried him out of the cabin.

Vince inhaled the fresh sea breeze and blacked out.

[aingeal98]

Thought about Daisy Johnson too long again. 7 dead 5 injured.

[weepylucifer]

glorious 25th makes me think again about that one idea i once had for a discworld spinoff set in the future that would deal with the natural conclusion to the industrial revolution arc: communism comes to discworld

[richieshitlips]

the urge to spread the gospel of my starkid rarepairs vs the fear of being booed off stage and having rotten tomatoes thrown at me

[ssremitm]

The splatfest has me drained but now refueled my urge to do some more sentai x splatoon works

[sovamurka]

I... I made these for the playlist and then just forgot to use them... WHY???

[sisterdivinium]

.

[designedparadigm]

   ghost  often  has  a  distant  look  in  his  eyes  -  however  it  can  disappear  within  seconds  when  someone  gets  too  close.  the  sharp  attention  comes  into  his  gaze  and  suddenly  he's  tense,  rigid.  ready  to  move  to  intercept  and  harm.  ghost  can  go  from  relatively  docile  to  murderous  in  seconds  -  and  it's  hard  to  flip  the  switch  back  once  he  gets  in  a  foul  mood.

[tellie-vision-art]

Wanting more Priyaxel content but also knowing if I want it that badly I will have to make it myself bc it feels like no one actively ships it/makes content for it anymore 😭

I feel like a loser here in my corner hyped up over something no one else cares about and I’m kinda embarrassed about it 😩 like I have thoroughly convinced myself now that I am dumb for shipping it bc no one sees it like I do and people are perceiving me as weird and overdramatic about it 😔

[the-kipsabian]

i love my aus and i love writing for them in a way that only one person other than me is going to read about them so i can just project as much as i want in here and give the characters cute quirks because i think thats cool and honestly i think thats very sexy of me fr