#khan x oc

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Khan By Any Other Name

a prequel to Star Trek: Into Darkness

mystery, suspense, danger ~ romance & NSFW material to follow

summary: Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars, and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because she lets her kind heart overrule her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiousity is piqued as much by his classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by its driver--a tall, dark, mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than he appears.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka: John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OC)

words: 1.9k

Chapter Two

“Drop it now,” he repeated, with the sure authority of a man accustomed to having his orders obeyed, “And I promise I will not hurt you.”

Despite his iron grip, Seraphina struggled to pull her arm away, hissing through teeth gritted against the pain, “Won’t hurt me?  You’re hurting me now.”

Harrison’s hold on her arm loosened some; she was still tightly caught, but the pressure of his grasp, the pain, had receded a fair bit—although she knew she’d find dark, finger-shaped bruises there in short order.  If she even lived that long. “Forgive me,” he told her, his voice low and even, “I’d forgotten how fragile your bones can be.”

What an odd thing to say, she thought, straining for release from his clutch and realizing it was all too impossible; she was no match for his strength, and even if she could manage to trigger the mace, she had no sure way to aim it properly.  She felt desperate, frightened tears well up in her eyes, but squeezed her eyes shut against them—for she would not give her assailant the satisfaction of her despair, nor would she beg for mercy.

He must’ve read that quiet resignation on her face, for he tugged her fist close and covered it with his free hand, urging her to see reason, “You cannot win this struggle, Seraphina.  Your resistance is futile; surely you understand this?”  Harrison’s voice was silk persuasion, rich and dark and seductive—at complete odds with the very real threat he presented.  “I could easily break your wrist and prize your little weapon from your fingers—but I honestly have no desire to hurt you. Just let it go.”  And then, to her great surprise, he added, “Please.”

Blinking through the tears that fell against her will, tears that betrayed weakness when she wanted to be strong, Seraphina met his eyes again.  His beautiful, deadly eyes—and saw in them an unexpected sincerity that matched his gentle “please”.  She bowed her head and opened her fist, leaving her key and the can of mace to fall onto the passenger seat.

“There—that wasn’t so difficult after all, was it?”  Why was his voice so soothing?  Fear of what he might do to her next coursed through her veins, yet Seraphina thought she could easily crumple to the ground, curl up into a fetal ball, and let his voice see her into untroubled darkness.  The heat, the fear, the adrenaline, the struggle—all of it had sapped her of the will to face whatever might come next.  She’d always believed it wasn’t in her nature to fall apart so quickly, but she felt that way now, all the same.

True to his word, Harrison released her arm, but Seraphina remained in place, braced against the passenger side door, shaking in the aftermath and considering her very limited options. She might try to make it to her hovercraft, but the stranger now held her key; and even if she had the strength to run and the speed to outpace him, to flee into the desert at her back would be equally as brutal as anything he might do to her. She'd have to make her stand right here, then--and though she was no match for his size and strength, she knew enough to leave him hurting before he took her down for good.

Taking stock of her condition--mentally preparing to fight him off as best she could--Seraphina flexed her left wrist carefully, wincing as she explored her tender forearm with cautious fingers. Nothing broken at least, though she felt a bone-deep ache; but it would not be enough to hamper any effort to defend herself.

Strangely, Harrison was ignoring her at the moment; having retrieved her keychain, he had torn the can of mace free with no effort, before hurtling it carelessly into the desert. Seraphina had a vivid image of her own broken, half-naked body flung just as easily and left upon the sand for carrion-eaters to feast upon. She shoved the idea down deep, knowing such fear would only cripple her--and was immediately dumbfounded when he held the key out to her.

"Did I not say I have no wish to harm you?" Harrison's eyes bored into her own, searching for calm and reasoned understanding. "In spite of how it appears, we are equally vulnerable in this place and situation. We must find a way to trust one another. " Sera only continued to regard him warily. "Take this," he insisted, "If I judge you correctly, simple concern for a traveler in need motivated you to stop. And in keeping with your nature, I believe that you will not deny me the help that I need."

Sera studied his face, looking for signs of deception, skittish to trust him but accepting his peace offering nevertheless. "You lied," she said, defiant yet holding her anger at bay, "This car isn't yours..."

Harrison nodded, his full lips pressed together against a small placid smile, "I never claimed that it was..."

"It's stolen," she fumed, irritated with herself for allowing him to so easily mislead her when her first instinct had been correct after all.

"An act of desperation, I assure you..."

"Just as this was," she exclaimed, extending her bruised forearm to him, "I have to wonder what happens to people who truly stand in your way, Mr. Harrison. "

Unruffled by her outburst, Harrison closed his eyes a moment and breathed deeply. When he looked to her again, he was the picture of patience. "I swear I have no desire to cause you--or anyone else--harm. But you must understand, I am in dire straits and as we linger here, my family is in imminent danger." He paused, weighing the effect of his words upon her. "Such a thing will make a man act beyond the measures of polite society."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes, skeptical of his revelation of a family, but suspending her disbelief for the moment, "How then? What sort of danger is your family in?"

"Their very lives hang in the balance, threatened by a powerful man who seeks to manipulate me into working for him." Embers of hate flashed in his eyes, and he gave a bitter huff as he added, "Forcing me to work toward the most nefarious of purposes."

Sera shook her head, clearing the double vision that had crept up on her; she cupped a trembling hand against her forehead, which came away slick with perspiration. It was the heat getting to her, obviously. She felt parched, although the thought of putting anything into her roiling stomach left her feeling even more nauseous, and her head was pounding in time with her racing pulse. She needed to get out of the goddamn heat before she collapsed from heat exhaustion--while the man before her looked completely unaffected by the desert climate. "And...and I suppose this mysterious man is so powerful that you can't seek help from the proper authorities?" Sera leaned all her weight against the car door, wondering if Harrison had noticed her current state of distress.

If he did, he gave no sign of it, a mix of pain and rancor coloring his strikingly handsome features. "So powerful that it would be in your best interest to remain ignorant as to his identity and position." Anticipating her next question, he warned her, "Do not ask--for I cannot reveal that information."

Though stymied by his vague replies--and sensing a much more complicated tale behind what he'd already admitted to--Sera read blunt honesty in his voice and body language. And the fact that he had willingly returned her key while asking for--rather than demanding--her help, seemed a testament to some underlying truth. She realized that she likely had only a few more minutes until she passed out, leaving her completely at Harrison's mercy. "Then how...how did you end up here, stranded in the Mojave," Sera asked, panting softly, "How does any of this help your family?"

He was watching her closely now, so that he had to aware that she was fading fast. "That is a rather long and complicated tale, Seraphina." His voice had again taken on a lulling pitch. "One which I believe would outlast your capacity to remain on your feet."

She held on to the window frame, white-knuckled but determined to remain upright long enough to learn his hidden agenda. "I'm fine...I...I'm just a little light-headed..."

"Step aside now, Seraphina." Again, that tone of a man whose orders were obeyed without question. "You have little time left before you lose consciousness." His hand was already on the door handle, and she stumbled back in time for him to swing the door open.

Then he was looming over her, a tall, cooling shadow, reaching out to brace her. His touch this time was firm, while surprisingly gentle. "We need to get you out of this heat." Unexpected concern in is stunning eyes, calming concern in his voice. The man was a beautiful enigma.

"No...please...tell me. If...if you want me to trust you..." Her world was darkening around the edges, narrowing so that only his face remained in her field of vision. "If you want me to help...I need...I need to know..." Seraphina felt herself going, and as her consciousness fled, so did her fear and curiousity; only one need remained. She sobbed against him as he scooped her up into his arms, "But you promised...you promised not to hurt me again..." Her eyes fluttered shut as she slipped away from awareness.

Harrison strode swiftly towards her hovercraft, cradling her as softly as he could, knowing that the cool, dark interior was the quickest remedy at hand for what ailed her. "Oh, pretty little Seraphina," he murmured, brushing his lips against her dampened hair, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine and honey, relishing how light and easy she felt in his arms. "Hurting you is the least likely thing I have planned."

(to be continued)

If you enjoyed this, please reblog ~ it's the only way others can see this work.💟

tagging: @icytrickster17 @ironstrange1991 @strangelockd @groovy-lady @aphroditesdilemma @stewardofningishzida @battledress @mousedetective @dearmrsstephenstrange @lorelei-lee @mckiwi @shinebrightlikeafanbase @cumberbatchitis @doctorhelm @strangeflashholmes221 @prulock @stargirl-designs @hajile10 @dancingmushu @iloveavengersblog @fireonmybones @osugahunnyicedtea @brayleigh14

(There were a few more blogs that I tried to tag based on the response to chapter one, but tumblr's messed up url search function kept telling me 'no blog found'🤨)

[nightscythe]

the primarchs as dom/sub

sorry if this has been done before, I just couldn't get it out of my head. based this on my more dark view of the lore/universe and how I write them. there is a secret third (sixth?) option, vanilla.

nsfw, 18+ below the cut. mostly pre-heresy

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the lion: dom. top of the charts. in his everyone is there to serve him, and you are no different. into all that humiliation and degradation, thoroughly enjoys the way you writhe under him and beg him so desperately. he'll hold your face towards him and ask you if you really deserve him in that way. makes you beg until you're crying. he just looks at you lovingly and finally gives you what you want, not before he makes it agonisingly slow for you. will still please you just to prove a point and he's surprisingly good at it, especially with his huge hands and his tongue. loves you deep down, but truly believes its his place to be above you and telling you what to do. gets you to clean him up afterwards and maybe lets you lay with him.

fulgrim: switch. it's too easy to say he's into everything, but I do believe he would try everything at least once, and is happy to indulge anything he likes. sometimes that's putting a collar on you and admiring his view as he tells you step by step what you'll be doing next. sometimes it's being held down to the bed with the softest of ribbons as you pour hot wax over his chest. he wants to explore what there is to offer and if you're open to it, so is he. so that does mean odd things as well, unexpected little kinks and treats along the way. admires the marks left on both your skin and his, as long as its not permanent.

perturabo: soft dom. doesn't like giving up his control to you, but doesn't reach the hard limits of dominating you fully. his touch is soft and his words and commanding, but only because he is usually like that. probably prefers to not treat you like another one of his men behind closed doors... but still doesn't want you telling him what to do. most probably tried it once and hated it (secretly didn't mind it but he struggles with actually acting submissive, as much as he wanted to be babied some more). there's not many kind words, just pulling your hair where he wants you, grunting as a return of satisfaction, pushing your face into the mattress but giving you enough room to breathe. its a personality thing, really.

the khan: soft dom. he would explore with you, try many things to understand what they are and how they feel, but ultimately he wants to take care of you. the natural result of that is someone who's stroking your cheek and hushing away the tears as you choke on his cock for the seventh minute straight. calls you his baby (or like, something equivalent) as he watches you use him to get yourself off, whimpering and moaning his name, something which genuinely warms him. can make any day better for you, loves to whisper to you how much he cares for you, loves to make you forget anything bad happened with those hands and fingers of his. tucks you in afterwards, protects you with his whole being. aww.

leman: vanilla. my most controversial take. my feeling is he craves connection and someone who understands him, and he's a passionate lover. that isn't to say he wouldn't try being dominant or submissive (probably the latter less so) but his preference is vanilla. something pure filled with emotions. he's so caught up in the moment that he doesn't have time to stop and thinking about telling you to what to do and how to do it. he just goes with whatever happens. maybe externally he puts on a gruff and domineering persona but actually, that doesn't matter to him. he just wants to see you happy and whatever that takes he will do - so he'd happily try any of the kink stuff you wanted. just don't expect him to want to be called daddy/master/etc or submit to you.

dorn: switch. thought about him being vanilla but I don't think he would be. its an interesting world to explore. he's perceptive to whatever you need, but understands that one person has to take a submissive role, and one person a dominant role. maybe that goes to extremes sometimes and he's telling you to call him sir, or he's presenting himself to you tied up (because you may have enjoyed that), but mostly its just the soft things. likes it either way and lets you take control most of the time. only thing he's precious about is giving head, he will always do that in the most submissive way, like he's feasting on nectar from the gods, blessed with each move of his tongue. an interesting experience, to say the least.

curze: soft dom. thinks it is his place to be in control but isn't precious about it like some of his brothers. not as gentle or as caring as he could be during sex but he certainly takes the lead and has something to show about it. wraps his fingers around your neck, holds your hands down against the bed so you can't move, leaves bite after bite over your neck and chest until you're covered in a reminder that you are his. in the same vein, quite possessive, and his more dominant tendencies seem to come out of that is threatened. would probably overstimulate you to let out his frustrations and remind you again that you are his. greedy is the word. wants all of you, to himself, forever and ever. kinks is a different story, but is holding your head underwater until you cum a really dominant thing..?

sanguinius: sub. sorry but like, the first ever thing I thought about with him was calling him a good boy. a very soft lover in general, he lets you take control and thrives off being told how well he is doing, that he's the one who makes you feel this good. isn't afraid to whimper for you, lay down all his strength just so you can tie his pretty arms to the frame of a bed and stroke him over and over again until he begs for it. endures it all just so he can see you ride him. lets you push him around test him. oh, he loves it when you tease him. cockwarming. rubbing him through his clothes. whispering to him that he needs to wait, but doing everything in your power to make him cum there and then? would do absolutely anything for you.

ferrus: soft dom. a bit vanilla at first, with actions and feelings not being his strongest selling point. a man of practicalities seeks to understand everything about you and learn your interests. but of course strength and perfection is key to him. everything he does is dominant. it starts with seeking you out, pushing you against the wall, lips ghosting your ear as you feel how much he needs you. the smirk when he feels how wet you are from just... the thought of him. every movement is precise, and equally intense. you feel all of him, and he makes sure you understand that he is in control here. making up with him in this manner may result in more dominant, hot tempered moments, telling you exactly what he's going to do, and you're going to like.

angron: vanilla. maybe a bit controversial as well. was thinking soft dom but then changed my mind, he's just naturally imposing and domineering but not dominant. when he had the capability to understand love and relationships in that way, I feel it was very personal to him. he wanted to feel the truth, not arbitrary words of praise or command. so therefore it does not steer in a particularly dominant or submission direction for either of you, it's a moment of you being truly together. probably the least kinky as well imo. as time progresses it becomes more feral, more of an untamed desire, which is still unmatched to either side. personality wise he is probably more dominant though so take that as you will.

guilliman: soft sub. but like close to vanilla. he doesn't need to be told what to do or pushed around, but just a little guidance. someone to kneel beside him, stroke him slowly, maybe play around with him to test his limits, really learn to understand him. very eager to please you especially when he's between your legs looking up at you with his eyes wet and eyes devious. just tell him he did well, you enjoyed it. makes him come back for more. almost a bit timid, afraid he may hurt you in some way, shy as well. of course by the time he is resurrected he's just baby boy™ but also a regent so the second he has some time away from, you know, being the regent, he just wants forget everything else going on and get lost in you.

mortarion: dom. how could he be anything else? at first its just letting out his frustrations but then it's something more. primal. there's no maybes with him, no suggestions. he tells you what to do and you do it. sometimes he would be a bit softer, but its rare and usually when he's tired or his mind is elsewhere. he's in control of everything, he tells you when you can cum, he tells you when you can move, and god forbid you don't listen to him. if he hasn't given you permission well... its a week of edging and desperation for you. likes seeing you helpless before him. but when it's all finished and his needs are dealt with, he's got his arms around you and he won't let go. a weird way of registering his feelings.

magnus: switch. thought about this one too long. sometimes he'd love to be cared for, have his hair stroked as you praise him. other times, he's got you up against a wall and using all that size to his advantage. kind of like exploring what their is to offer, but his preferences do not lean towards dom or sub individually, maybe just a very small amount towards sub because he feels utterly useless without being told just how well he is doing. doesn't mean he's not smug about it when he finds you alone thinking about it. that's when his more dominant side comes out. if we are talking about demon form though it's definitely dom all the time.

horus: soft dom. it's not that he can't be fully dominant. he can. but why do it when he can be taken care of with soft kisses and making you happy too? hence the soft bit. likes to watch with his hand in your hair as you suck him off. tells you to take a little more of him and softly encourages you, never forces you. it's like a subtle hint, one you will get, or he'll just add a touch more dominance for show. discovers the daddy kink by accident and is fascinated with it. show daddy what a good girl you've been. holds your hands down as he's behind you. praises you gently and rewards you for small things during the day. probably loves going down on you as well as a reward for bigger things. but he'd never take it too far, he just enjoys the simpler things.

lorgar: sub. so eager to please. wants to be rewarded. he'd be on his knees for days if you'd let him, begging, wanting a small taste. even just your scent makes him hard. would wait for your command to do anything - touch himself, touch you, etcetc. whines and whimpers until you finally let him cum each time. at first its seems like he hates it but he does very much like it. any time you don't tell him what to do he looks lost and needs your guidance. based on this he would always let you be on top and especially likes it when he can look at you and worship you. every part of your body is divine to him. any time you're apart he's thinking of you and wondering when he will next get to hear your voice command him around. whipped.

vulkan: soft dom. super protective of you and isn't afraid to show it. has you take about your day as he goes down on you. tells you not to stop and looks to you curiously when you can't get your words out straight. is always so gentle though he could never reach the level of dominance like some of his brothers, its barely even soft dom - it's gentle, passionate, but every single one of his movements means something. tells you how well you are doing as you take his whole length and holds you close. likes hearing every sound you make and still asks permission to do everything, uttering things like may I? as his lips and tongue finds your body. really cautious of hurting you.

corax: dom. nothing soft about him. maybe to everyone else he looks like he would not value anything physical, but really, he's an absolute...menace? has you over his knee letting out his frustrations one spank at a time. likes it when you cry his name. rubs you through your clothes and laughs when you're an overstimulated mess on the floor. master/slave dynamic at some points. and it feels like it goes on and on for hours with him, he plays out fantasies in his head, has you on your knees then in his lap making you watch in the mirror as you cry and beg. but afterwards he would clean you up every time and fall asleep with you between his arms because he's quietly, and a lot less obviously, devoted to you too.

alpharius: soft sub. though he could be anything. i like to think one twin is soft sub and one is soft dom, which would technically make the single entity a switch. is it too late to change? considering I see him as a bit of a yandere it may be a bit of a surprise, but his darker side is outside the bedroom. inside, he is sweet and innocent, he's begging for praise and to be held. has you straddling his lap with your fingers in his mouth making him wait patiently for you to be ready to actually please him. handsy, touches you everywhere, barely contains himself around you. you'd get suspicious when he tells you to stop, throws you onto the mattress and takes you from behind... but hey, they don't know what each other are like. daydreams about you though. has a little notebook with hearts around your name but no one can see it.

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I know not everyone will agree but I hope I at least made you think!!

[ereyies]

hi guys it's me elaine.

something something the daroga is so underrated and hot blah blah blah needs to be included in more adaptations.

i know this isn't going to get many notes but it's okay because the target audience is ME.

uuhhhhhhh saw this image on pinterest and said 'oh this is SO elaine and nadir'. if you want to know their lore i might make a post about it if that is what you guys want!! i do have two videos on tik tok explaining my phantom of the opera oc's lore but if you'd prefer to read it with some art attached i could definitely work something out.

+ without effects and reference image

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Black Celebration (Jaghatai Khan, Mortarion)

Summary: Mortarion befriends Khan's lover and realizes that he has feelings for her… and that she must be saved.

Jaghatai Khan/fem!Reader, Mortarion/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, manipulation, angst

Word count: 1371

Song: Depeche Mode - Black Celebration

I decided to try something new. Jaghatai is a soft yandere, but the focus is not on him, but on Mortarion. Of course, he can also be called a yandere (he is a primarch, they are all a little wierd there), but his fears are still justified.

Jaghatai Khan, Primarch of the White Scars was a special person. Strange culture, strange manners and isolation from others. He, like Mortarion, was forced to serve the Emperor, but not because of an agreement, but because of the desire to protect his world. But they were not friendly. The only person with whom Warhawk was able to strike up a friendship was Magnus the Red. A witch, no less.

It is not surprising that when Jaghatai became attached to a small mortal woman, no one paid attention to it. And it was so difficult to understand what was on his mind. So why waste time on you when there are much more important things to do.

“Oh, I didn’t think anyone else would be here. You are Mortarion, aren't you? Jaghatai has told so little about you.”

Mortarion takes his eyes off the ivy and turns around. He’s not used to seeing you without your patron. On the other hand, it’s unlikely that anything could threaten you in the Terran greenhouse.

You smile brightly and talk non-stop about how you wanted to see the greenhouse. After all, so many wonders from all worlds are collected here. The Primarch of the Death Guard continues to sit on one knee with an impassive gaze, looking at your words. During all this time, he never changed his face or said a word. Simply put, he did not show his passion in the conversation.

“I see you liked this plant. Can you please tell me more about it? Everything is so interesting here.”

You press your hands to your chin and look pointedly at the primarch. Mortarion can do nothing but frown. Something was erroneous here. Something is wrong. In you. You were wrong. Strange. You acted differently.

“Aren't you afraid of me?”

You almost recoil at his words and raise an eyebrow. Not out of disgust. But surprises. Misunderstandings. The primarch watches carefully as your eyes scan the man from head to toe. Your lips curl up and your face takes on a funny look.

"No."

Perhaps now you should be scared. Mortarion is sure that if he didn’t hurt your feelings before, now... you should have run away as fast as you could. A primarch, but he cannot control his own body, what a shame. The eyes widened, the nostrils inhaled deeply. He looked like an enraged monster, ready to rush forward and tear his victim to pieces. Only it wasn't rage.

He had never heard pleasant words.

And didn’t know how to react. But you continue to stand, embarrassedly fiddling with your hands. Waiting for the Pale King to deign to tell you about all the different types of plants in the greenhouse. Mortarion opens his mouth several times, gulping air like a fish. Until he gathers his strength and begins to talk.

***

You started meeting more often. The greenhouse was your secret place. You hardly saw each other in different parts of the Imperial Palace. Or pretended not to notice each other. But you and the primarch didn’t even discuss why you kept your friendship a secret. It just happened that way.

But Mortarion looked forward to all these meetings. Couldn’t calm down his feelings or control his thoughts. He longed to meet again, to hear your laughter. And when these meetings came, he waited with bated breath for their completion. Hoped to the last that the wonderful dream would last as long as possible.

He told you about Barbarus. About the Crusade. Not the most pleasant stories, full of pain and suffering. But you listened to them carefully. You wanted to support him. And when you touched his hand one time during the story about his “adoptive father”... The Pale King was relieved. You didn't mock him. Wasn't afraid.

You were a true ray of light. Mortarion loved listening to your stories about your home planet, customs and traditions. What are your favorite holidays, how is your family doing. Your distant home among the stars seemed like a real paradise. While Mortarion's homeworld rotted alive.

“You know, I really appreciate that you listen so eagerly about my culture.” - you get embarrassed and fidget with your dress while sitting on the floor. - “Jaghatai is also interested. But he has a lot to do and besides, I have to integrate more into the culture of Chogoris. So there is little time for me.”

You say this so calmly. You accept your fate and position like a slave. Mortarion frowns. He doesn't like you being neglected. You were mortal. Small and fragile. You need to be taken care of, not terrorized.

“What is your relationship with my brother?”

You open your mouth and blink your eyes. Until you squeak in embarrassment and hide your face in your hands. Mortarion wants, desperately wants to smile at this sight. Show you at least a little bit of goodness. But he doesn't know how to smile. Besides, he simply cannot calm down until he understands that you are safe.

“Jaghatai... he annexed our world to the Imperium too quickly. We couldn't fight back anyway, peaceful planet. I... we met at one of the holidays, and then we began to meet more and more often. And so unexpectedly! It’s as if fate was favoring us.”

Mortarion hears your heart begin to beat with greater intensity. Or was it his?

“I-I know how it sounds, but I love him. And... and he loves me. Of course I had to leave my home, but nothing could be done. Jaghatai said that he will take care of my family, they will not need anything. Of course, he forbids me to go to a lot of places and my social circle is narrow... but this is all for my safety. Sometimes his care is a little suffocating... but he said that he has never fallen in love and does not know how to show his feelings... He writes me poems, laughs at my jokes. And he also gives me rides on his bike!”

Naivety. Pure and simple-minded naivety. Which his brother brazenly took advantage of and turned a wonderful girl into a slave. And she doesn’t even realize it, greedily accepting what he gives. This is not freedom. Mortarion should have saved you, you deserve better, you need...

Him?

No, Mortarion is not worthy of your care and affection. How can such a beautiful and pure girl desire such a disgusting man like him. He looked terrible, but compared to the Primarch of the White Scars, he must have caused momentary disgust.

Khan was handsome and dressed more flamboyantly than Fulgrim. He looked after you, behaved perfectly and so normally. Mortarion looked simply ridiculous compared to him. He may be a primarch, he may be called the Pale King. But he was pathetic in front of you.

And he doesn't say anything.

***

The next day he doesn't see you in the greenhouse. And in subsequent ones. In truth, it seems as if you have disappeared from the Imperial Palace. Your trace is gone, the scent has cooled and he can’t hear the beat of your heart. You are absent. You're far away.

Mortarion thinks he is going crazy and he doesn't know what to do. Have you decided to leave him? Have you decided to run away? He couldn’t blame you, but resentment and sadness gnawed at his soul. He really wanted to spend time with you again. Feel needed. Beloved.

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. Khan.

“I am grateful to you for brightening the days of my nightingale.” -White Hawk doesn't look grateful. - “My moon is already tired. She shouldn't talk to other primarchs so often. Besides, we were delayed on Terra. If you have something to say, then say it. I’ll pass on the words to my beauty.”

Mortarion wants to scream. You have a name. Jaghatai has no right to treat you like this. You deserve better... The Pale King is terrible and disgusting. He's a monster in the flesh. But it seems that your soul makes it better. Mortarion wants to see you again among the flowers, cheerful and alive. Happy. Free.

“Tell her that we will meet again.”

Whatever happens.

[theghostoficarus]

What was Uzi’s N’s and Khan’s reaction when G is born as a cute Pill-Baby?

Uzi was a helicopter parent to the max for G's toddler years. She left G alone once they had told her and I quote, "Bite me."

Reminder asks are open!!!

Also head cannon: They can choose who has the kid at the very start of a pregnancy because it'd just be a code at the beginning that can be transferred. So... yeah :D

[ziffy14]

I love vintage couples paintings

So I decided to redraw one with them :>

I'm planning to make Soni a TaleSpin design I already have some sketches

[moociaoafterdark]

Dear God, I've come to repent my sins Let your blood wash me clean for I'm... I'm... I̴͉̠̒̿́͒̈́͗'̵̟̘̯̼̯͇̒m̸̧̘̈̌.̷͎̪̜̹͝.̵͎̼̩̌͆͑́͌́.̵̛̺̌̒̆ I'm a rotten girl...

Now, who thought it was a good idea to introduce Moira to Primarch Yaoi? Also, who gave her the yao- I mean, Sinner paddle? Do you have any idea what you just unlocked inside her? Meme redraw of Confessions of the Rotten Girl

[raw-lesbian-energy]

The Promening

Summary: Prom arrives and everything goes wrong.

Fandom: Murder Drones (The Explorer Drone AU)

Pairing: Sera-V, mild Nuzi

Features: Self-Insert Character

Word Count: 7,058

Warnings: Mild cursing, murder, dismembered body parts, violence, brief cannibalism

A/N: Sentences between “{ }” brackets are in Russian (so whenever Doll is speaking lol)

—————————————————————

It had been three weeks since the incident with the eldritch snake-crab that had been J, and Uzi was still as gloomy as ever. At first, she had just been upset about N, but now prom was coming up, and the teen wanted to do anything but attend it.

She already knew her dad wouldn’t let her skip, even though she had made her hatred for the event clear. She refused to look at any dresses, avoided anyone on the committee, and tuned out any talk of the event. No one was going to ask her to go anyways; Thad would’ve been the only possibility, but he already had a date.

She was drawn from her angsty thoughts as her internal clock reminded her of the time, making her realize she was going to be late for school. As much as she wanted to just stay home, she knew her dad wouldn’t tolerate it, especially since she had missed a lot already from her time at the spire with N. The thought of him made her gaze wander up to the ceiling covered in papers, her eyes focusing on one particular sketch among them. It was a very badly drawn sketch of her and N, but Uzi could still tell effort had gone into it, which made guilt churn in her core. This guilt made itself heard as she let out a long groan, already sure this would be a very long day.

——————

Seraph idly tapped her pen against her cheek, her brows furrowed as she got lost in her own head. A lot of things had occurred over the week since she had talked to V, but what had most of her attention was the fact students had suddenly started going missing.

Of course her first instinct was to ask V, but she could tell the murder drone hadn’t been responsible, and N didn’t seem vicious enough to do it by himself. She decided to turn to the school’s security footage instead, but all cameras at the crime scenes had been scrambled, which left her with nothing to work with.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a frustrated groan, drawing her gaze over to where Uzi was sitting. The purple-haired drone was crumpling up a piece of paper, tossing it haphazardly at the recycling bin before grabbing for a new piece. Only after a few moments did she crumple that one as well, and Seraph noticed her pile of paper was quickly growing smaller. A frown crossed the teacher’s face at the sight, and she quietly got up from her desk, grabbing some more papers and walking over to her. She reached Uzi’s desk just as she was crumpling her last piece, her shadow drawing her attention up.

[You okay?] The text blipped onto Seraph’s visor, helping to avoid drawing the other student’s attention. Uzi’s scowl only deepened in response, her gaze turning away as she grumbled something the teacher couldn’t hear. Seraph decided not to push further, instead silently setting the papers down and retreating back to her desk. She could feel Uzi watching as she moved, only sparing her one last glance before sitting down and returning to her own work.

After what felt like forever, the final bell rang and the students quickly got up to clear out. Seraph calmly watched them go from her desk, though she kept her focus mostly on Uzi. The purple-haired drone had haphazardly thrown her papers between the pages of her notebook, trudging out of class with her head hanging low. The explorer drone made no movements to follow, instead focusing on cleaning up her own space first before stepping out of the classroom.

“Maybe I should have a talk with Khan about her…” she thought, turning to head back to her unit. As she began the walk, however, a psychotic-sounding laugh suddenly reached her audio receptors and she stopped, turning around to see Uzi pulling the missing persons flyers off the bulletin board down the hall. She promptly skipped away with them, still laughing, abandoning her books and backpack in the middle of the floor as she left.

“…Okay, yeah, that talk needs to happen now.” Seraph determined, quickly moving to grab Uzi’s discarded stuff. A few of the pages came loose as she picked up the teen’s books, revealing them to be covered in the strange symbol Seraph had seen on Uzi’s first project. She had no idea what the symbol meant, but she chose not to dwell on it as she finished packing Uzi’s things and headed for the Doorman unit.

She made a quick stop at her own unit to put away her belongings, but just as she re-emerged, she saw Lizzy and Doll walking away with an annoyed Uzi in tow. The sight alone made her both confused and concerned, and as soon as the three were out of earshot, she promptly went to the Doorman unit for answers.

Knock knock knock!

There was a few seconds of silence before the door slid open, and Seraph was greeted by a cheerful-looking Khan gazing up at her in surprise.

“Seraph!” He exclaimed, his chipper tone matching his expression. “I wasn’t expecting you. What can I do for you?” Seraph’s expression flashed with concern, but she promptly corrected to a more calm face.

“I’m here because I need to return Uzi’s belongings.” She stated, holding out Uzi’s bag. Khan’s eyebrows raised, and after a moment, he took the bag back from the brunette.

“Oh, thank you.” He said, though hesitation flashed across his screen. “Did she, uh, forget it in your class?”

“Actually, she left it out in the hall.” Seraph admitted, her concern showing more clearly now. “She had… abandoned it, to take the missing persons posters off of the bulletin board.” Khan’s brow furrowed at her words, his grip on the bag tightening somewhat. The action caused a stir of guilt in Seraph’s systems, and she let out a small sigh.

“Mr. Doorman,” she started again, “I feel like you and I need to have a talk about Uzi.” Khan met her gaze with a quizzical look, though Seraph could see the underlying worry in it.

“What about her?” He asked.

“Well,” Seraph took a breath, “Her behaviour compared to the other students is… concerning. She’s kept isolated, her classmates don’t treat her well, and if I try to ask, I’m met with very short and cold responses. All in all, I’m worried about her.” Khan blinked, and the same flash of worry passed over his expression, but he kept neutral.

“I see.” He replied. “Well, I did talk to her other teacher, and two of her classmates will be taking her to prom tonight. That should help her be more social!” He gained a hopeful smile as he spoke, while Seraph’s expression gained an edge of disbelief.

“You mean Lizzy and Doll?” She blurted. “They’re the two that bully Uzi the most.” Khan’s smile dropped at her response, and Seraph felt her guilt double almost immediately.

“Mr. Door-… Khan,” she tried, taking a gentler tone, “I want to help Uzi, and I’m sure you do too. But forcing her into things, and worse forcing her with people she does not get along with, is only going to hurt her.” Khan’s expression flickered with regret at her words, but he managed to steel himself, meeting her gaze once again.

“Well, if that’s the case, how about you come help chaperone the dance tonight?” He suggested. “That way we can both keep an eye on Uzi and make sure she has a good time! She honestly could use some better role models too…” his voice wound up trailing at the end, but his words made Seraph’s expression soften a bit.

“Well, I’ve been assigned as a chaperone anyway.” She admitted. “I just need to get my outfit on, but I’ll meet you there.” Khan perked up in response, and the gleam of hope on his screen helped ease Seraph’s guilt a bit.

“Sure, sounds good!” Khan said, sounding more excited. “I’ll see you there, then!” Seraph nodded and waved as she left, heading back to her own unit next door. Her outfit was already laid out on her bed, and she took a moment to look it over before taking her day clothes off to put it on. It slipped on her easily, and as she looked into the mirror to adjust her top hat, she couldn’t help but feel a small tug in her processors.

“I wish V could’ve come…”

Seraph froze, eyes hollow as she stared at her reflection. She quickly shook her head to clear the thought, as well as stop any others like it from forming.

“Come on Seraph, you know better than that.” She muttered. “V can’t come because she would cause a school-wide panic. The students’ safety comes first.” She glanced back at the mirror again, taking a breath to clear the small blush on her screen before fixing her hat one last time. Feeling as ready as she could be, she headed out of her unit, turning down the hall to head back to the school.

——————

Meanwhile, back at the pod, V was growing increasingly annoyed at N. His sulking had reached a whole new level, and it was taking all her willpower not to jump from her chair and chop his head off. But she still had him believing she was chained down, so she kept herself seated.

Her new plan was to have him to free her, and with Seraph having told her about the prom, she saw a perfect opportunity. Given his inability to catch enough to eat, she hoped that he might just be desperate enough to go along with it.

First step was to have him get them nice outfits, which he had done with surprising efficiency. A full black three-piece suit for himself, and a lovely strapless red dress for her. She had to admit, he had an eye for fashion. Now all she had to do was convince him.

“We can’t interact with the workers anymore, V.” N told her. “We’re too dangerous.”

The response made her eye glitch. She had hoped he would’ve been more compliant, but she wasn’t giving up easily.

“Uh, exactly.” She replied. “We show up, fabulous, the sad purple one lets us in- cause she has no friends- we kill everyone and pop her little head off.” She kept a casual and proud tone as she spoke, but N still remained unconvinced.

“I’m not freeing you for prom murder, V!” He argued, growing louder as he spoke. “J went holo-spooky snake crab, and we maybe grew up in a haunted mansion!” He stepped closer, grabbing the back of her chair and getting much too into her personal space for her liking.

“Aren’t you worried we have no idea what we even are?!” He near shouted. She was quick to shove him away, her chair spinning in the process and leaving her with her back facing him. The pod fell silent for a moment, and V felt an expression of worry cross her screen, her gaze shifting to the broken mirror on the wall. She remembered how it shattered when Uzi looked into it, how that cursed symbol had flashed on the worker’s screen and vanished again.

“Promise me you and that purple thing will stop prying into that stuff.” V spoke at last, her voice softer now. N didn’t reply, and through the fragments of the mirror, she could see a concerned look etched on his screen.

“If you free me now,” she tried instead, turning her chair back to face him, “I promise we’ll only kill what we need to survive. Just you and me, N.” N’s gaze flickered over to the key on the console, but he made no move for it, instead looking back at her.

“…What about Uzi?” He asked. V’s expression quickly shifted to annoyance.

“She’s a worker, N.” She replied, her tone growing stern. “We can’t bring her along.”

“And what about Seraph?”

V froze, her eyes turning hollow as a shot of panic rushed through her systems. N was looking right at her, his expression showing nothing but sadness and hurt.

“I heard you two talking the other day.” He spoke again. “Were you planning to leave her here too?” V hesitated, her gaze flicking away for a moment before she steeled herself.

“She doesn’t matter to me.” She lied, folding her arms. N’s saddened look deepened, though it now held an edge of sympathy.

“Are you sure?” He asked. V glared at him coldly.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She spat. Despite her harsh tone, N could see she wasn’t telling the whole truth. It wasn’t the usual anger he saw from her, her shifting gaze and tightly folded arms making her seem almost afraid.

“V…” he hesitated, trying to find his words, “…if you’re hiding something, we can figure it out together.” There was a somewhat hopeful tone in his voice, and V’s stern expression cracked slightly. A brief flicker of panic went across her screen, though N didn’t seem to notice.

“Even if we each only have pieces,” he continued, “please, what do you kno-”

His sentence was cut short as V swung her sword, slicing his head clean from his shoulders. His body stumbled and collapsed against the wall of the pod, and V stood before him, a mix of sadness and guilt on her screen.

“What’s best for you.” She replied. “Even if you hate me for it.” She gave him a quick salute in an attempt of respect, then grabbed the red dress and flew out of the pod hatch to head for the bunker. She knew N would be angry when he woke up, but she couldn’t let him stop her. This had to be done, one way or another.

——————

“Any sign of her yet?”

Khan and Seraph stood by the wall of the gym, looking out into the crowd of drones. Prom was in full swing, with many people chatting and dancing, but neither chaperone had seen Uzi yet.

“Nope, still no sign of her.” Seraph answered Khan, managing to keep her voice steady. Khan frowned, his gaze turning to the clock on the wall to check the time again. Seraph felt a pang of sympathy as she watched him, already having a feeling Uzi was skipping but not having the heart to say so.

“Hey, I’m sure she’s fine.” She tried reassuring him. “Maybe her dress tore and she’s just looking for a way to fix it.” Khan looked up at her, managing a small smile in thanks for her efforts, but all attention was quickly drawn as a spotlight was activated and Lizzy walked out on stage. The sight of her alone made Seraph’s concern for Uzi increase, but she kept quiet as Lizzy stepped up to the mic and grabbed it.

“Okay, listen up, nerds.” She spoke, her voice carrying through the gym speakers. “We’re doing this a little early, but since the entire prom court mysteriously disappeared, your queen by forfeit is, uh… this.” As soon as the words left her mouth, a figure landed behind her on stage, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Their body was obscured in the shadows, but there was no mistaking the haunting glow of their bright yellow LEDs.

Panic swept over the crowd, and Seraph felt time stop. The frantic cries of the students were muffled to her as she stared up at V, in a strapless red dress, poised and ready to kill. She only briefly looked away to see Khan, who also had a terrified expression, his body frozen as he watched the scene onstage.

“Easy, judgy-bots.” Lizzy’s voice cut over the crowd, drawing Seraph’s attention. “V’s my friend. She’s done with the murder or whatever, we’ve been hanging!” As she spoke, a projector screen rolled down from the ceiling, the projector displaying various photos and selfies of V and Lizzy. Seraph looked up at each of them as they flashed by, feeling a storm of emotions flood her processors. She still couldn’t bring herself to move either, watching as V walked up to the front of the stage.

“Yes, best friends.” She said, her voice carrying that same sadistic tone Seraph heard when they first met. “So easily manipulated~” Her psychotic laugh soon echoed through the gym, her claws switching out for guns when she suddenly froze.

“Prom queen?” She blurted. Everyone in the gym fell silent, and Lizzy managed an awkward smile in response. Another girl then stepped on stage with a crown, causing V’s expression to twist with embarrassment. Seraph felt her thoughts and emotions stop short, the realization that V was being crowned prom queen rendering her completely confused. Lizzy, however, was quick to regain composure, taking advantage of the silence.

“So, forgive and forget, or I’ll get my dad to dock your frickin’ grades!” She snapped. “And you can’t sit with us, Rebecca!” The blonde pointed into the crowd, the spotlight falling on another drone with blue hair and purple bangs. She was momentarily stunned by the sudden attention, but her expression soon turned angry.

“Fine, I forgive her!” She snapped back, folding her arms. “Settle.” This response prompted many of the other drones to relax, murmuring their agreements and even applauding for V.

“Clap harder, losers!” Lizzy shouted. The crowd quickly erupted with applause, cheering and chanting for V to give a speech. This was enough to snap Seraph out of her shock, and she soon started to move, weaving through the students to try and get to the stage.

V, who was still recovering from the awkward situation and the crown being placed on her head, was quick to notice Seraph in the crowd. Her core stuttered for a moment at the sight of her, guilt rushing her processors as she saw her expression. She retracted her wings and claws without thinking, a flash of fear for how she looked making her move to the front of the stage.

CRASH!

Everyone froze as the roof of the gym suddenly caved, with N and Uzi landing a few feet behind the crowd of students.

“Unhand them, you fieeee… eend?” Uzi’s bold tone soon turned uncertain as she stared at the crowd. “I’m confused.” Seraph also found herself confused, but in the moment of looking back, she noticed a flash of red out of the corner of her vision. She turned to see Doll standing there with a murderous grin, her hand poised strangely, and the symbol that the teacher had seen on Uzi’s drawings was glowing at her fingertips. Doll pointed her hand right at V, and that was all it took for Seraph to know that something horrible was about to happen.

“On second thought, you’re way hotter than Doll.” Lizzy suddenly blurted, panicking. “Run, idiot!” V hardly had time to process the words before Doll closed her hand into a fist, a wave of energy rushing through the crowd at the disassembler. Metal bars shot out from underneath the stage, two piercing through V’s arms and another through her left leg.

At this, panic ensued.

Drones began screaming and running, scrambling in every direction to escape the new threat. The gym doors locked, trapping everyone inside. V struggled to escape the bars, sounds becoming muffled as panic took hold. Lizzy was tossed like she was nothing. The other drone’s neck was snapped, her body crushed into oil. Everything was happening so fast, and she was helpless to stop it.

“{Hello, V.}”

The voice cut through the fog like a blade, and V’s gaze snapped forward to see the worker responsible. Doll glared at her with nothing but hatred, and before V could speak, a wave of pain overtook her as memories from someone else were forced into her vision. A small droneling hiding in a cabinet, watching as V herself caught and killed two adult drones, laughing maniacally. The memories vanished as quickly as they came, but it was all V needed to realize why this drone was out to kill her.

“{Anyway, you get it.}” Doll said, her right eye glitching from normal back into the symbol. Another metal bar stabbed through V’s stomach, causing her to choke as oil spurt from her lips. Seraph’s eyes hollowed at the sight, and without even thinking, she rushed forward and grabbed at Doll’s arm.

“Doll, that’s enough!” She tried, though her voice was far more panicked than she wanted it to be. “Please, this won’t solve anything!” The symbol disappeared as Doll focused her attention on the taller drone, her expression looking scarily bored.

“{Seraph. The one teacher to actually care.}” She said, her calm voice even scarier. “{This is not something that concerns you. Please, do not interfere.}” Before she could respond, Doll’s hand once again lit up with that symbol, and Seraph felt an invisible force grip around her waist. With shocking strength, the brunette was thrown backwards, slamming into the gym wall with a choked cry. The sound of groaning metal followed, and by the time Seraph could focus again, she had been pinned against the wall by twisted metal beams.

Horror flooded V’s systems at the sight, but it was instantly replaced by rage. With a growl, she wrenched her right arm free, switching her hand for a gun and firing right at Doll. The navy-haired drone hardly blinked. Her eye flickered, the bullets bouncing off a force field. With a flourish of her hand, a large kitchen knife appeared, launching forward and slicing V’s free arm clean off. V gasped in pain as her arm went flying, everyone else watching from the sidelines in horror, including Uzi and N.

“Holy crap, what is she doing?” Uzi blurted, turning to N.

“This isn’t what I expected at all!” N replied frantically. There was a beat of hesitance afterwards, but he spoke again, “I guess we should, uh….” he trailed off, but his intention was easy to read. Uzi let out a groan in response, but didn’t argue. Meanwhile, Doll had used her powers to tear down a ceiling fan, altering the blades to become jagged and sharper. With a flick of her wrist, the fan shot off, flying straight for V’s head.

V felt time slow as she watched the blade rush at her, her gaze turning away for only a second to see a pair of panicked violet eyes on the wall, watching helplessly.

“Seraph…” the name sent a wave of fear through her systems, “…if I die here, what happens to-?”

She couldn’t finish the thought as there was a sudden flash of motion, and N kicked the deadly fan off course. It wound up embedded in the ceiling behind them, and Uzi leapt out from behind V, kicking the knife from earlier right back at Doll. The red-eyed drone deflected it easily, and after a second, the symbol from her eye appeared on the locked gym door. The trapped students were quick to realize and rushed out, shoving Khan along with them as they made their escape. The older drone didn’t run though, instead watching the stage from the hall with a worried expression.

“{Uzi, you would really side with the Murder Drones?}” Doll spoke, a tone of betrayal in her voice. “{I’m not the only one who’s lost family to them.}” This statement caught both N and V by surprise, their focus quickly shifting over to Uzi.

“Bite me!” Uzi shot back. “Whoever started this wants us to fight! I’m not dealing with anything well, but…” she hesitated, her voice softening, “…I’m done dealing with everything alone.” Her gaze turned over to N, a small smile crossing her face as she met his eyes. N returned the smile, still looking mildly concerned, while V’s gaze once again flickered to the blip of purple light in the shadows against the gym wall.

“We move forward together, or not at all.” Uzi’s voice drew V’s attention again, a frown on her face as she looked over at the purple-haired drone. Doll, however, looked unamused.

“{Cute,}” she said, her tone soon turning annoyed, “{but I don’t need help.}” Her eye once again switched back to what Uzi recognized as the Solver symbol, and another metal beam erupted from the stage, stabbing through N’s leg. Using the opportunity, Doll tore two more ceiling fans down, launching them forward at high speeds. In a split second, Uzi was shoved aside, saving her as the blades sliced N and V to pieces.

“NO!” Seraph’s sudden scream was heard over the music, drawing Doll’s attention to her. The two drones made eye contact, and Doll’s cold stare caused Seraph’s core to freeze in pure terror. Doll reached into a back pocket in her dress and pulled out another knife, the older drone unable to look away as she raised it up…

…and was thrown off as a chair raced by her head.

Doll quickly turned her gaze, now glaring at Uzi from across the gym. The red-eyed drone took the opportunity to lock the gym doors again, ultimately locking Khan out of the gym as well. Seraph was hit with a flood of emotions as she looked down on the scene, feeling relief at not dying but concern for Uzi and fear for V. She couldn’t see either of the disassemblers now, just the pipes from earlier and a splatter of oil leading backstage.

Uzi, meanwhile, stood completely open in the centre of the gym, and Doll’s knife was now pointed at her. She had nothing within reach to defend herself, having already thrown the nearest chair, so when the knife was thrown right at her, she reacted on instinct. She held out one hand and winced as the blade pierced it, but was quick to recover, pulling it out and approaching Doll. Doll’s expression briefly flashed with surprise at Uzi’s move, but she didn’t let it stop her, readying her solver to use on Uzi directly.

--// ERROR: absoluteSolver_trn [like object non-interactive]

The note on her screen made Doll freeze, panic appearing on her face before she turned angry and pulled a third knife. She once again threw it at Uzi, but this time, Uzi merely deflected it and kept walking. Doll couldn’t mask her panic anymore, slowly backing away as she realized this fight had just gotten a lot more complicated.

Meanwhile, hidden behind the curtains backstage, N and V were working to piece themselves back together again. A severed arm slowly crawled towards them, prompting N to pick it up and look it over.

“Is this-?”

“Mine!” V snatched it from him before he could finish, holding the arm in her teeth. An angry scowl donned her screen, and N felt a mix of frustration and sympathy.

“Ew.”

Both drones looked up at the sudden voice, seeing Lizzy standing nearby. She was surprisingly unhurt despite having been thrown, and a mildly disgusted look sat on her screen.

“You look like garbage.” She told them.

“You freakin’ traitor!” V spat, her voice muffled by the arm still held in her teeth. Lizzy gave her an annoyed look, snatching the arm from her mouth.

“As if you weren’t using me to try and kill everyone, Ms. Petty.” She retorted, her gaze turning to the severed arm. “Where does this freaking go?” V held an angered glare, while N attempted to be friendly.

“Thank you, Lizzy!” He chirped.

“Shut up, loser.” Lizzy and V replied in sync. N quickly slumped back against the wall, silently hoping Uzi was at least doing okay.

From up on the wall, Seraph watched the fight anxiously, her eyes darting between Doll and Uzi. A stray knife stabbed into the light controls, causing the gym to become lit up in flashing rainbow colours. Doll grabbed the knife with her solver and threw it. Uzi flipped to dodge it. She landed back on stage, stopping the knife with her boot and kicking a microphone stand at Doll. Doll caught it with her solver, holding it before launching it back at Uzi and pinning her down.

“Crap!” Seraph managed to keep herself from shouting this time, but her panic had increased tenfold. Doll was duplicating knives now, and had several of them all pointed at Uzi still stuck to the floor. Seraph struggled hard, but the metal beams refused to budge, so she came up with a desperate plan and tried to copy the hand symbol Doll was doing.

“Maybe it’s an underlying code…” she flicked her hand as much as she could, but there was no glow, and no moving of metal to be heard. She quickly gave up, knowing it was no use, leaving her to watch helplessly as Doll went for the kill. Just as the knives were about to hit, a blur shot in front and the knives ricocheted off of N’s outstretched wing. Seraph’s eyes widened in shock, since the last she saw him Doll had dismembered him.

“Quit saving me!” The brunette could hear Uzi’s shout even from where she was, watching as N helped her to her feet before suddenly twirling her. Their movements quickly became a mix of a dance and an attack, moving together to counter against Doll and blasting her back with an explosion. The force shook the room and Seraph, a cloud of smoke briefly blocking her view as the fight below continued on. She could hear the sound of things being thrown, but it wasn’t until the smoke cleared that she saw Uzi kick Doll square in the face.

Doll was sent sprawling from the hit, the lights finally settling back to normal as Uzi landed and readied for another attack. Doll didn’t stay down long, getting back on her feet and readying her hand, pointing the solver symbol at Uzi once more.

BANG!

The shot echoed through the gym as Doll suddenly staggered, oil spraying from a large crack in her screen. Her eyes flickered before she collapsed, and behind her stood V, her right hand swapped for a gun and a piercing glare on her screen. Uzi, who had flinched from the shot, quickly met V’s gaze with a glare of her own.

“V! We-” Uzi hardly got to speak as V suddenly turned, unfurling her wings and flying up to the side wall. Seraph flinched at V’s sudden approach, eyes wide in surprise as the disassembler swapped her hand for a tool she didn’t recognize.

“Hold still.” Was all V said, and Seraph tensed as a loud hum started from the device and a yellow laser shot out. It sliced through the metal beams like they were nothing, soon falling away and freeing Seraph from their hold. The explorer didn’t even have time to fall as V grabbed her, holding her with a gentleness Seraph did not expect and flying her back down to the gym floor.

“I-I, uh… thanks.” She managed, before letting out a yelp as V smacked her upside the head.

“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.” She scolded. “She could’ve killed you!”

“Wh- me?!” Seraph exclaimed in a mix of surprise and offence. “I thought she had killed you! I saw you and N get sliced to pieces right on stage!”

“Please, I’ve survived worse.” V folded her arms, brushing off Seraph’s concern. “You, on the other hand-”

“A-hem!”

Both drones stopped arguing at the sound, turning to see Uzi and N staring at them. Uzi looked very annoyed while N looked surprised, and the realization that they’d heard everything made both Seraph and V look away.

“As I was saying,” Uzi continued, clearly frustrated, “we needed Doll alive for answers, V!”

“What?” V replied in annoyance. “She’s fine! Ah…” her expression changed as she looked down at Doll, seeing her lying still in a large puddle of oil.

“A little tuckered out…” V muttered, now mildly embarrassed. Seraph couldn’t take her eyes off Doll’s body, a mix of horror and sympathy swirling in her processors.

“V did that on purpose!” N suddenly exclaimed, snapping Seraph from her daze. “She’s hiding mystery stuff and being overdramatic about it!” V’s expression immediately turned angry.

“N, you suck!” She snapped.

“Both of you, shut it!” Uzi shouted, drawing all eyes to her. She glared the disassemblers down before her her gaze turned to an object on the floor. She knelt down to pick it up, finding it was Doll’s bracelet with a strange tag and a unit key attached.

“Lucky for you, we’re not done yet.” She spoke again, standing and holding up the bracelet. Seraph felt her concern rise, glancing over at Doll’s body, but chose to say nothing and merely followed as Uzi, N, and V walked out of the gym. Khan was waiting anxiously on the other side, his face lighting up when Uzi walked through the doors.

“Uzi!” He exclaimed, rushing over. “What happened in there? Are you-”

“I’m fine, dad.” Uzi interrupted him, annoyed. “We handled it.” Khan froze at his daughter’s words, his expression saddening as he stood there, unsure what to say. Seraph felt a wave of sympathy for him, walking over to put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s good of you to care, Khan.” She told him, giving him a small smile. Khan’s sadness faded slightly at the reassurance, and he gave a small nod in response. His gaze turned back to Uzi after a second, and Seraph looked over to see annoyance, but also a mild twinge of guilt on the teen’s face.

“Uzi, maybe you should go back with your dad.” She suggested. “It’s been a long night-”

“No way.” Uzi cut her off, masking her guilt as she folded her arms. “I’m finding out what the hell was going on at Doll’s place, with or without you.” Seraph gave her a harsh look, but much to her surprise, Khan stepped in between them.

“It’s alright, she can go.” He said. “Just keep an eye on her for me, will you?” Seraph met the older drone’s eyes with worry, but Khan only smiled, giving her a small, sincere nod.

“Alright, if you insist.” Seraph relented at last. “I’ll bring her home myself later, okay?” Khan nodded again, his smile widening slightly as his gaze turned back to Uzi. Her annoyed expression faltered, guilt reappearing as she shifted her gaze away, but neither said anything as Khan turned and started the walk back to his unit. All four drones watched him go, and Uzi felt guilt stirring in her core before she shook her head to refocus.

“Come on, we have a unit to check out.” She said, starting off down another hall. N, V, and Seraph followed silently, with N and Seraph looking wary while V kept a bored expression. Soon enough they reached Doll’s unit, and a strong tar-like smell could be detected seeping out from under the door. Seraph recoiled slightly at it, but said nothing as Uzi used the key from Doll’s bracelet to unlock and open the door. It slid aside with a soft hiss, and the scent increased tenfold as the group stepped into the pitch dark unit. N soon found the light switch and turned it on, and all four drones looked at the kitchen with shock and horror.

The kitchen was covered with worker drone bodies, oil stained all over the floor and appliances. Scattered parts hung from hooks or were thrown in pots, with one arm laid out on a cutting board, and the upper half of one drone could be seen stuffed into a top cabinet. ‘FATAL ERROR’ shone in bold red letters on their visor, and both Seraph and Uzi felt a chill at the sight. The sound of metal clinking made both of them freeze, but their fear quickly vanished as they looked over to see V idly chewing on a dismembered arm.

“Ugh, self respect!” Uzi scolded, pulling the arm out of the murder drones’ mouth. V gave her an annoyed look before licking residual oil from off her hand in a fashion much like a cat would. Seraph watched the murder drone with a mix of concern and confusion, but promptly shook it off and silently headed further into the unit. She chose to check down the hall first, opening the door to the bathroom and finding the blood-filled tub and stack of mirrors leading up to the ceiling vent.

“…Well, that leaves more questions than answers.” She muttered. She looked back over as N pulled a sheet off of something at the dining table, revealing two more drone corpses that had been sat in dining chairs. Each of them had a bullet hole clean through their visor, their bodies posed in fear, and Seraph was quick to notice one of them had hair the exact same colour as Doll.

“I… think we found her folks.” N said quietly. Both V and Seraph walked over to look, though V seemed rather unbothered.

“Literally didn’t even taste that good.” She said casually, picking her teeth with one claw. N’s gaze fell on her, a mix of concern and disgust on his face.

“V, you kinda suck.” He told her. V only laughed, picking up one of the roaches with her claws.

“Yeah, I’m not doing okay.” She replied, eating the robotic insect. Her smile faltered as she felt eyes on her, and glancing over, she saw Seraph looking at her with nothing but worry. A sudden rush of guilt flooded V’s systems and she forced her gaze away, turning instead to watch as N helped Uzi climb over the kitchen counter to join them.

The purple-haired drone warily approached the two bodies, noticing a lanyard around the neck of who she could only assume had been Doll’s mother. With careful hands she lifted the name tag, showing a photo of the same drone when she was alive, accompanied by the number 048 and the name ‘Yeva.’ The bright red eyes in the photo only confirmed that the woman had been Doll’s mother, and Uzi couldn’t help but feel a twinge of empathy for her classmate.

A strange, quiet noise suddenly reached Uzi’s audio receptors, drawing her attention from the name tag. Her eyes widened in horror as she looked up to see Doll at the other end of the table, completely healed, and using her solver to point a bullet right at her.

“{Just in time for dinner.}”

BANG!

The sound of the shot faded, but no collision followed. Instead, the bullet had been caught, by Uzi, with her own solver power. All eyes were focused on Uzi now, each of them displaying fear, but Doll’s expression also showed sympathy.

“{I… I’m sorry for you…}” she managed, a genuine tone of worry in her voice. Uzi hardly heard her, still staring at the bullet frozen in front of her. Her solver soon deactivated and the bullet shot, swerving around her head and piercing through the glass of the window behind her. All eyes had followed it, but soon refocused on Doll, who was giving Uzi a saddened look.

“{If I find what I’m looking for,}” she said, “{I’ll help you too.}”

“What?” Uzi blurted, now even more scared than before. Doll didn’t explain further, her body starting to glitch and fade like she was a hologram.

“{I am sorry.}” She told her.

“Wait! Oh, don’t you dare!” Uzi shouted, but Doll was already disappearing. V leapt into the air and launched a rocket at the navy-haired drone. The explosion clouded the room in smoke, but as it cleared, there was no sign of Doll anywhere. Uzi let out a loud groan of frustration, tossing her head back and her arms up as she shouted.

“I hate it here!”

——————

Meanwhile, outside the bunker, the wind howled as a single worker drone made his way through the city. He scanned up and down the ruined streets, stopping only when he noticed something familiar sticking out of a pile of snow. Kneeling down, he brushed it aside to reveal the object, soon finding a pair of circular-shaped glasses.

“Oh, that’s where I left my excuse to be outside right now.” He said, straightening up and putting on the glasses. His vision became clear with the help of the lenses, and he turned his gaze up just in time to see something hurtling out of the sky right at him. He barely managed to dodge it as it crashed, part of it exploding and sending debris flying. The worker shouted at what he now realized was a landing pod, scrambling to his feet to make a run for it, but a second pod immediately crashed down in front of him and cut him off. He cowered as it exploded too, surrounding him in a ring of fire and debris, the flames roaring and crackling in the harsh wind.

A moment of silence passed after, but as the worker raised his head up, he heard more noise and saw a third pod coming down from the sky. This one didn’t crash, however, instead using its strange legs to slide down the sides of the buildings and land neatly in the street. The door of the pod opened a second later and a figure leapt out, brandishing a sword as they landed, reeled back, and sliced the worker’s head clean off.

His head flew in a high arc, oil trailing behind as it landed and rolled in the snow, his glasses landing on his face a second later. The attacker let the oil drip off of their sword, the light of the fire glinting off of the blade and illuminating them, revealing them to be human. A space helmet obscured their face, but a baseball cap and a bow sat on top, and a name tag was pinned to their suit with the name ‘Tessa’ engraved in it, along with the title ‘Certified Technician.’

“Righty-o, work to do.” Tessa spoke, sheathing her sword. “Eh, J?” At the call of her name, the disassembler emerged from the ship, flying over and hovering next to Tessa. She tossed a set of keys to her that the human caught easily, hitting a button on a remote and locking the pod behind them.

“Maintenance work.”

[k0k0naty]

@ziffy14

I don't want to disrespect your Ship with Shere Khan. I thought your Oc was so beautiful and awesome that I put her in my AU. any problem you have with the drawing, tell me, and I will delete it

(I love you, marry me😞)

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Khan By Any Other Name

moodboard by @strangelock221b

summary: Pre Star Trek Into Darkness. John Harrison (Khan), on the run from Admiral Marcus, is on mission to save his people, and presses a good Samaritan to help in his quest. Though initially against her will and amid a variety of dangers, Seraphina DiPietro quickly discovers her sympathy for his plight--as well as her attraction to him--becoming irresistible.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OFC)

rating: MATURE/18+

word count: 4.5k

excerpt from chapter ten

...Khan pulled the hovercraft into the darkened lot of a modest, little roadside inn.  Their agreement to stop for the night remained unspoken, as though a spell of sorts had fallen over the both of them.  Neither cared to look back upon their deadly encounter, let alone discuss it—but each silently recognized a change in the dynamic of their relationship.

Once Sera had arranged for their lodging, he backed the craft into the space in front, leaving it to face the wooded area behind the inn, positioned so to facilitate a quick departure should it be necessary.

“I paid for two nights, just in case,” she revealed, her voice grown soft in the quiet of the room, as he bolted the door behind him, “I thought, it’s so late already and perhaps…well perhaps we might not be…be ready to leave at…checkout time.”  She shrugged, tongue-tied now that they were alone, surely feeling the full import of having shut the rest of the world away.

The room was simply furnished; the only difference he discerned, from typical night lodgings of his time, was a viewing screen that took up at least three-quarters of the wall across from the bed.  Seraphina left her bags sitting on a chair, and set about unpacking the items she had purchased for them; an assortment of protein bars, several types of fruit, and bottled water.  “I wasn’t exactly sure what you would like, but these should do alright—don’t you think?”

“Of course,” he answered, careless of the objects in question, focused only on the steady current thrumming between them.

“And I got a few things you might need,” Seraphina continued, her words spilling out in a nervous rush, “A toothbrush and a razor; a clean shirt—I hope it’s okay, I just guessed at the size.  And…um…a change or two of…underthings…” 

She trailed off, as Khan moved closer, stilling herself completely as he ran a hand up from the small of her back, to leave it resting between her shoulder blades.  He spoke softly, reassuringly, against her ear, “I’m sure all is exactly as I need.”  Her sudden, aching vulnerability was dizzying him, and making him want to slowly savor every moment to come, despite how his true need was growing stronger with each breath he drew.     

She gave the quietest little moan as he stroked her cheek, and then turned her face up to his so he might lay a soft kiss on her mouth.  “Seraphina,” he exhaled against her lips, “My unexpected, little miracle.”  He kissed her again, and again, and again, never going deep, teasing himself as much as he teased her, making her want to go deep but denying her at the same time.  “Be mine, Seraphina,” he insisted between the tender tease of each kiss, “Be mine…be mine…be mine…”

“Is this real…is this really happening,” she whispered, even as she craned her neck enough to encourage him to paint a trail of moist kisses upon her throat.  Khan slid his palms down to cup her breasts, rubbing his thumbs hard against her nipples, and delighting as she arched into his hands.

He nuzzled his way back to her ear, softly rumbling his answer, “The most real thing I’ve known, in more years than you could possibly imagine,” punctuating his lonely secret by gently tugging her earlobe between his teeth.  It drew from her a surprised gasp, as she tightened her grip on his biceps.  He thought her as ripe and willing as any woman he had ever taken, reading in the way she trembled against him further proof of her desire—until her plaintive tone broke through his fog of lust.

“Please, John…oh please.  Just let me breathe a moment.  We’re moving so fast…and I…oh god,” she panted, struggling for the right words to say, “I want you, I want this…I just…I’ve never been the kind of woman who falls into bed with a man she barely knows…”

Khan backed away, dazed by her seeming refusal, and blinking slowly through the stupor of hard desire. Stymied by her mixed signals, he growled more harshly than he should have, “Woman, what is it you would ask of me?”

She shook her head, moving close and laying her hand against his cheek. “Only that you give me a chance to catch up to you.  That you just—please--bear with me a little bit.  You’re quite…” she swallowed hard, searching his face for understanding, “…quite a force of nature, you know.”  Seraphina bowed her head a moment, sounding a little overwhelmed, “I want to choose this of my own volition, and not because you’ve swept me up in the power of your…” she met his eyes again, her face a perfect mix of guilelessness and longing, and sighed as she told him, “…your beautiful will.”

As potent as was his desire for her, Khan knew in his heart that he must concede to her soft entreaty.  Recalling their delicious trespass all those hours ago—and relishing her sweet fragility now—he realized that he had no true choice but to be patient…for she was a prize well worth waiting for.  

He turned from her, not out of anger or frustration, but because he needed to cool his ardor for a time.  “How prettily you test me, my sweet desert rose,” he grumbled, “So that in this, I must bow to your will.”  He paced to the far side of the room, restless and aching for satisfaction.  Stopping near the window, he parted the drapes enough to peer outside, trying to distract himself from the seething heat in his blood.  Khan heard her quiet ‘thank you, John’, and muttered an acknowledgement, registering that she had moved into the bathroom without looking her way.

By the time that she emerged, he had kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed, managing to calm himself and quiet his hunger.  His eyes were closed, as he concentrated purely on breathing; he felt Seraphina approach, but remained still until she cautiously addressed him.

“I suppose I ought to look at that cut now.  At least clean it up, see that it doesn’t get infected.”

He opened his eyes, to find her beside him, a damp washcloth in her hands. A sweet act of conciliation, he thought; how very like her.  Though it was unnecessary—his genetic makeup endowed him with a superior immune system, meaning he was seldom prey to illness or infection—he decided to allow it.  It would be ill of him to reject her simple act of kindness.

“Thank you,” Khan murmured, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, leaving room so she might sit beside him.  He pulled his shirt off, discarding it on the floor—completely unprepared for her reaction.

The moonlight in the alley had been enough for Seraphina to excise that insidious tracker from beneath his flesh, but far from enough for her to note his true condition.  She gasped at first, then fell mute, moving a step back to take in the full picture.  In his unwavering focus on getting to London, Khan had put the pain he had endured--at Marcus’s behest--behind him, and so had not given a thought to how he would appear to her.  At her gasp he looked up at her, wordless himself, to explain the sight confronting her.     

Remaining silent, Seraphina studied the map of ugly bruises on his shoulders and torso, her eyes the widest he’d seen them yet.  When she finally found her voice, it was hushed and sorrowful, “Who…who did this to you?”  

Khan blinked several times, fascinated by the minute tremble of her lips; she was holding back some strong emotion, and on his account.  “Unimportant,” he replied dispassionately, “And safer for you not to know.”  And then, uncharacteristically, he looked away, the soft, sympathetic regard in her eyes and the set of her mouth nearly too much to bear.  What was it about her that made him want to appear invincible?  He would not have her think him a victim of any kind.  “These will heal rapidly, and any pain that ordinary men must feel…I…I simply do not.  I master it; it does not master me.”  Of course, he did not add that these sort of injuries would put an ordinary man in the hospital, perhaps clinging to life even with all the medical care available—well, in his time, anyway.  Today, he supposed, the broken ribs would be easily knit, the punctured lungs child’s play to repair.

“Oh, John…why? These men you’re running from…why…why would they beat you so?”  Sera moved closer, cautious and concerned, and he remained still as she sat by his side on the edge of the bed, knowing she wanted to touch him, and realizing he needed the tender mercies she would be offering. 

Nearly every conscious moment since he’d been awakened, Khan had waged his lonely battles—physical, mental, emotional—a stranger in a cold, sterile world that valued him for only that which it could rip from him against his will.  He had withstood the rounds of relentless, merciless tests, the repeated psychological games meant to break him, and finally the methodical, repeated beatings administered by men who knew the exact effect of each blow upon the human body (though he was superhuman, even Khan had some limits to his physical endurance, and his captors had explored those limits in every possible way).  Yes, Khan had borne each outrage against his mind and his flesh, reaching deep inside himself for the patience to sustain him, burying the anger and the hate for a future day when he would make Alexander Marcus and his minions pay the most painful and deadliest of prices.  And not once had he sought compassion or clemency, focusing solely on surviving, never imagining a man such as himself would be afforded simple human kindness, even wondering at times if such soft inclinations had finally been bred out of the human race.

Yet here was this kindhearted woman, proving that benevolence did exist in a hard world, reaching out to comfort him.  He’d thought he might wince when she laid her hand upon him, for some of his wounds were still tender, but she touched him gingerly, almost reverently.  Khan would have refused her advance if he’d seen pity in her eyes, but that was not her way.  “John,” she said--her sadness mixed with an irresistible huskiness that left him feeling weak, and hungry at the same time--laying her other hand against one of the lighter bruises, “Let me help you…let me make this right somehow.”  Khan closed his eyes, silently acquiescing, allowing her to move her hands across his skin, letting go at last.  Such tenderness, he realized, had far more power over him that the violence he had endured, answering most unexpectedly, the ache in his soul for true human connection.  Too many lifetimes of men had passed since he’d felt a woman’s touch.  And so gentle a touch as this.  Too many ages.

Slowly, then, and lightly at first, Seraphina began to trace his skin with her fingertips.  Small circles to begin with, and then fanning out a little at a time, from his shoulders and along his collarbone.  She smoothed her palms upon his chest, and his breathing deepened in time with her movements.  She was soothing and stirring him by patient touch alone, and when he exhaled her name she moved in close and began to kiss his neck.  Slow, sweet, and fleeting kisses, coupled with the brush of her hair against him.  Khan leaned his head back a little as her kisses became fuller and more insistent, lingering at the hollow of his throat, and beginning a descent along his sternum. 

His ribs on either side bore the worst of his bruises, but Seraphina caressed them with the greatest care, while brushing her parted lips across his chest, and teasing him with butterfly kisses as she neared where he was most sensitive. He groaned deeply at the electric sensation when she danced the tip of her tongue around his areola, narrowing her circles until she flicked it against the hardened nub at its center.  The urge to touch her was nearly overwhelming him to give back in kind, and even more—yet he longed to lose himself a while still in the exquisite comfort she was giving.  He lost track of time and any sense of place, only aware of the exacting patience of her hands and her lips, her dear, familiar scent, and the shared rhythm of their breathing.

When she withdrew, she rose from his side without a word, so that he opened his eyes to watch her pull her blouse over her head, and drop it at her feet.  Her skin was healthy and unblemished—and in the low light of the quiet room—lightly tanned in contrast to the pale pink of her bra. Khan’s mouth watered at the sight of her nipples beneath the cottony material, little buds drawn tight, sure sign of her desire for him; he ached to take them in his mouth, to tease them with his tongue, and graze them with his teeth, imagining the sort of noises she would make in reply.  A wave of lust coursed through his belly and below, sharply demanding satisfaction, but he made no move as he waited to see how she would proceed. 

Seraphina stood before him in the beautiful prime of womanhood--and in his eyes, her kind and gentle nature was as manifest in her appearance as her lovely physical attributes.  He felt no surprise at the tears of empathy that spilled from her eyes, her pupils fully dilated as she drew nearer; and he knew he’d soon taste the salty trails those tears left upon her cheeks.  Oh he would taste them; he would taste all of her surely, for he read her intent in how she moved, and in the soft, quick pant of her respiration.  She will taste like a desert rose, he reckoned, his body grown ready for her: I will drink myself full of the sweet nectar of my desert rose. 

Then she was slipping off her huaraches and sliding her skirt down past her hips, shimmying a bit until the fabric fell in a puddle around her bare feet.  The waistband of her panties lay low, skimming across her bikini line, tempting him to reach for her and pull her close, so to hook his fingers inside the thin elastic band and tug away the soft fabric that covered her mound.  He wanted to learn the scent of her arousal, to dip his fingertips and tongue into her secret places, and to make all the precious wonders of her supple young body his. 

Khan stood up without prompting, reaching for her; Seraphina’s small, pure smile dazzled him as she moved into his offered arms, delectably compliant as he unhooked her bra, slid the straps down, and then cast it on the floor.  He exhaled hard at the sight of her revealed, his wonder undeniable, “Perfectly lovely…exactly as I expected.”  She lowered her eyes a moment, then met his gaze again, clearly pleased with his appraisal.  On most women, this might appear as the pretense of modesty, but Khan already knew her well enough to know this was no artifice.  

Seraphina slid one arm around his neck, laying her other hand on his shoulder, and began to kiss his neck again.  Flesh on flesh at last, he was aware of every inch of her skin against his; it’s heat a match to his, her smooth, firm breasts pressed tight to him, the muscles of her abdomen as taut and enticing as he’d imagined.  He slipped his hands down her back and inside her panties, cupping her bare bottom so that she moaned deliciously.  There would be no stopping now, this course that had been destined from nearly their first words to one another.

Seraphina leaned back, resting most of her weight in his hands, and then gazed up at him, looking sweet and wanton all at once.  He darted in quick to take her lips in full, thrusting his tongue into her mouth; Khan shivered as she laved her tongue against his, then sucked it boldly, before pulling away.  A lascivious tease, he thought, and one he would be very glad to repay—until she rested the crown of her head against his chest, so she could focus on undoing his jeans with both hands.  She pushed them past his hips and down his thighs, leaving him to shuck them off the rest of the way while she returned her attention to his mouth, nipping at his lips while she pressed her pelvis against his.  Her eager fingertips strayed past the waistband of his underwear, progressing from his back and around to just beneath his navel, her goal quite clear.  He allowed her to smooth her fingers through the springy curls of his pubis, allowed her the touch she so hungrily sought; her fingers were cool upon his heat as she began to run them along the ridges of his hardened phallus.  Khan grunted, tightening his grip on her bottom, making her whimper her affirmation.

But then--by pure force of will--he clamped his hands on her wrists, growling against her ear, as he withdrew her hands from their intimate quest, “Not quite yet, my divine little temptress.  You must ripen even more before I take you.”  Though it felt like forever since he’d had his satisfaction, Khan knew he could master his lust a while yet before that inevitable urge overtook him.  Seraphina sagged against him, moaning her frustration softly; certainly confused, but rife with desire and ready to follow his every whim.

He laid her gently on the bed, pausing to watch her a bit, reading her need in her rapid respiration and in the soft curves of her breasts, waist and hips.  Slowly, he peeled her panties away, purposely breathing deep so that she would see he had caught her scent, and telling her, “You are mine now, Seraphina.”  He ran one hand up from her knee to the juncture of her thighs, stretching his fingers wide and resting his thumb in her soft thatch of hair, his face inches above hers, “As you have wished from the first moment I caught you in my arms.”  Khan kissed her brow, while moving his thumb closer to her slit, his voice a rough caress, “Tell me if this isn’t so.”

Seraphina blinked slowly, then nodded her head, and smiled softly up at him, “Yes, John.  Yes, I am…yes, I wanted this.  I want you.”  Revelation dawned in her eyes, as she understood the true depth of her desire, “I want you…in every way imaginable.”  She brushed her fingers through the fringe that fell over his brow, adding quietly, with a wisdom that pierced his heart, “But don’t deny there is at least some part of you that is mine.”

He chuckled warmly, musing wondrously before kissing her long and deep, “In flesh, in spirit, you are indeed the match to me, sweet Seraphina.  Perhaps the universe set you in my path to make amends for the cruelties I have suffered.”  Khan hovered above her, memorizing her smallest details a few moments more, and then blazed a trail of kisses down to her breasts.  “Perfection,” he murmured against her skin, and then took a stiffened nipple between his lips, tickling it with his tongue while she moaned her reply.  Sucking it softly at first, then with increasing pressure before he popped it from his mouth, and moved to lavish his attention on the other. 

At the same time, he finally drifted his thumb down to her clitoris, rubbing gently to begin with, then tracing from its tip downward, along her exposed labia, and back again, varying his strokes to keep her on the edge, and eliciting her deepest moans yet.  His cock pulsed with ferocious need, straining against the material that was the last barrier between them.  Though the deeply buried, primitive part of him cried out for him to plunge himself inside of her, he focused his will on Seraphina’s pleasure, and on preparing her for his eventual entry.  Teasing her a bit more, until he brought his fingers to her opening, finding her slick enough to explore; she pushed against him as he flexed one long finger, and then two, inside her, spreading her legs wider to allow him deeper access.  “Slowly now, my flower; open to me with patience,” he instructed her, “Trust me in this, as in all things now.”

“Ohhhhhhh…but let me touch you, too,” Seraphina implored him, moving one hand from his hair, skimming it quickly down his body, while stretching her fingers to take him in hand. “Let me feel you…all of you…please, John…please.”

Khan moved his pelvis just out of her reach, keeping her in place upon the mattress effortlessly, intensifying his strokes against and inside her.  “No, my precious one, you must wait.  Your sweet touch would surely set me ablaze—but first, I would watch you as you come…”  Her breath caught with that word, and she squirmed beneath his hand, hot, wet, and achingly close to resolution.  “I will feel you in the moment that you peak, proof that you are mine,” he declared, and brought his mouth close to hers, breathing her in.

Seraphina raised her head and latched onto his mouth, her lips and tongue greedy to please him in the only way he would allow.  Her hips moved in sync with his fingers, seeking the release he promised—yet still, she sought to persuade him.  “No…please,” she begged, her breath catching again with  insistent waves of pleasure, as he worked her towards her climax, “Don’t push me over the edge, John…I…aaaaahhhhhh…I don’t want to come until you’re inside me…”

Confident of his power over her—and truly wanting to experience her gratification before his own, he laid his mouth against her ear, “My beautiful one…my sweet flower…we have hours and hours ahead of us.  There is time enough for satisfaction for us both.  Let me please you in this way—and I promise this night that I will give you such delights as no man has ever given you.”  She sobbed softly, confused by the promptings of her heart versus the fire he had kindled in her flesh.  “You are my treasure, Seraphina.  A heavenly oasis in a world that has only ever sought to use me violently.  Trust me, my sweet, and know that I have come to trust you with my life.” 

What little resistance she had managed, vanished in a single beat of his heart, as his talented fingers redoubled their efforts, thrusting deeply inside her again and again, while she ground against the glorious pressure of his thumb stroking her clit.  In moments, Seraphina exploded like a maelstrom, crying out his name, clenching his fingers tightly within her; her hips rose, and her pelvis and legs went rigid, as her body strained to wring every ounce of ecstasy possible from this first penetration.

Though she fell back onto the mattress, her muscles continued contracting, and her body trembled in luscious after throes. Her pelvis twitched when he finally pulled his fingers away, signaling her body’s regret for his absence, testament to his skill.  Khan smiled wolfishly, relishing his indelible effect upon her and anticipating what was to come next, then forged a pathway of soothing kisses back to her passion-bruised mouth.

Resplendently dazed—and with a satisfied flush coloring her skin--Seraphina kissed him back with a tenderness that defied her earlier fervor.  The heat in his blood cried out for equal satisfaction, though he bided his time well enough—knowing he was minutes away from taking her in full.

“That…was…amazing,” she sighed, turning into him, casually nuzzling his neck, “And god, you…you smell amazing…and you feel like heaven…”  She suckled along his clavicle, murmuring against his skin, “You taste like strength, and mystery, and…and forbidden bliss.”  Seraphina slowly exhaled, “And I’d almost think I was dreaming you up—except I’ve never had such an…,” she bit her lip, and her eyelids fluttered shut as her senses relived the glory of it, “…such an intense…orgasm, in a dream before…”

Khan rumbled in his chest, judging her ready for more, while finishing her thought, “Nor in the waking world, I’ll wager.”  She was delightfully easy to read, a creature of little pretense, her heart an open book; the language of her body against his was the only confirmation he needed.  He splayed one hand across her hip onto the small of her back, pulling her against him and leaving not a bit of gap between them.  She ooooo’d, surprised by his sudden roughness, but then conformed to him exactly as he wished, clinging tight while peppering his neck and chest with lusty kisses.

He caught her hand in his, and pressed his lips against her palm.  “Now you will free me,” he ordered her, firmly guiding her hand down and setting it upon his bulging cock, “Free me--and then you may touch me as you desire, Seraphina.”

She complied eagerly, pulling away his underwear and grasping his hard, heavy shaft, feeling his full length and girth for the first time.  Khan grinned at her moan of mixed surprise and trepidation, knowing he surpassed all of her expectations—his generous endowment another gift of his superior genetics.  Her grasp was light and tentative, and she panted shallowly, on the verge of panic.  “John…you’re so…so…big,” she sputtered, “What if I can’t…what if I can’t…accommodate…you?”

“Oh, my sweet—you needn’t fear.”  His voice was patient, silk indulgence, having anticipated this last obstacle.  “You see now why I needed to prepare you--and I promise you are more than ready.”  As proof, he moved one hand between her thighs, his expert fingers exploring her core again, measuring her heat and slathering his fingers with her juices.  His eyes bored into hers, as he willed her to calm and trust him.  Seraphina’s mouth hung slack, as she watched him bring those fingers to his lips and lick her flavor from them.  “Yes, my sweet, you are ready for me.”

She held still for several breaths, choosing her course.  Accepting his word as truth, her lips quirked saucily—and Khan shuddered at the sensation of her thumb rubbing the tip of his cock insistently, capturing droplets of his pre-come on her skin.  Avidly, he watched her suck her thumb, signaling her full submission to whatever he might ask of her.

Khan rolled Seraphina onto her back, taking in her full beauty once more, before mounting her.  She kept her eyes locked on his, and they whispered endearments and loving encouragements back and forth, touching one another and never breaking contact altogether.  Still marveling at his size, and seeing him ready to bury himself inside her, Sera grasped her knees from behind, pulling her legs back as far as she could, opening to him, vulnerable to him, her clitoris visibly pulsing with renewed need.  Khan gripped her hips for purchase, and surprised her one last time, lowering his mouth and tenderly kissing her mound, then caressing her clit with the tip of his tongue; she cried out her bliss, writhing beneath him, raising herself to meet his full lips.  She was close again, so close to more rapture, but this time Khan would have her orgasm engulf him.

Seraphina whimpered as he moved away from her wet portal, as suddenly as he’d begun pleasuring her there.  “Hush, my sweet,” he cooed, scattering random kisses across her abdomen, and gently grazing the smooth skin of her breasts, on his way back to her mouth, “Have I not promised you all that you desire?  And have I not proven myself a man of my word?” 

She was nearly incoherent, only able to moan, and when he took her mouth again, he matched that moment by slipping the head of his cock into her melting pussy.  He groaned with the joy of it, the purest pleasure he had of her yet, holding himself still as she bucked beneath him, begging him in that way to fill her completely.  Unable to hold back a moment longer, he thrust his full length into her, the sensation so keen that he saw stars behind his closed lids.

It would be quick this time, Khan knew, from so long an abstinence.  His heart hammered in his chest, pumping blood that had become molten as he rutted into her again and again, his magnificent brain shutting down all thought but the imperative to take his pleasure at last.  He was aware enough to feel her lock her ankles together at the small of his back, and to feel her arms encircle him, holding on hard as he unrepentantly drove her body into the mattress.  Seraphina encased him like a glove, and she met his movements measure for measure, her growing moans a heavenly counterpoint to the groans he felt rising from the seat of his soul.

With mere moments left to him, Khan snaked one hand between them, seeking her perfect little nub, her most sensitive spot, rubbing it roughly and pushing her to climax.  She rose to meet his final thrusts, the powerful waves of her orgasm pulling him past his endurance, and he came furiously, all his consciousness focused on their connection, his cock convulsing as he spilled himself inside her.

For unnumbered moments, they seemed suspended in time, so intimately connected, throbbing together in the aftermath, and for that brief time unable to tell where he ended and she began.  Seraphina drew deep gulps of air, her exhales cooling his sweat soaked skin.  Khan found himself shaking, telling himself it was only the flood of hormones that hit is system, after a three hundred year absence.  In truth, he knew of only one other woman who had drawn such a reaction from him; the comparison was too apt for comfort, and he shut those thoughts away.

When he looked down upon her, Seraphina smiled up at him, biting her lip, a sudden bashfulness complimenting the glow she wore for him.  She rested one hand on the side of his neck, and the other she nested in his mussed hair, then raised her face closer to kiss his slightly parted lips, lingering on his bottom lip, spoiling him with gentleness after his rough use of her.  “Are you well, my sweet,” he asked, solicitous of her comfort.

Her smile grew wide, and rather soppy, “Never better in all my life, my beautiful, dark…”  She hovered a moment, in search of a perfect word, “My beautiful, dark, magnificent prince.”

“You flatter me, Sera,” he chuckled, using the diminutive of her name for the first time—for she truly was his now, in all ways.  His steadiness restored, he continued, “But I will take it, along with anything else you care to give to me.”  He took her mouth in a long, passionate kiss, her sweetness become the only candy that would ever satisfy him.  Delaying the inevitable no longer, Khan withdrew from her as gently as he could, though she still hissed softly at the loss of connection.  And, oh, she would be sore tomorrow—but he could not regret a moment of how he’d taken her.  Of how you loved her, the voice of his younger self corrected him; he shut that thought away as swiftly as it came.

Sera turned into him, as he laid beside her, and rested her head on his shoulder.  Though her voice was drowsy, Khan thought perhaps they’d couple a time or two more before sleep overtook her—and if so, his patience would exact magnificent pleasure upon her warm and willing form.

She traced her fingers across his chest randomly, and brushed her lips against his skin as suited her in the moment.  Khan rested his nose against her hair, relaxed in a way he had not been since well before his ascendancy as leader of the Augments.  Already the temptation to turn his back forever on that life--in favor of spending days, months, perhaps years, in the splendor of her loving—was insinuating itself inside his mind.  He vowed to tread with greater caution in regards to her heart as they moved forward on their journey.

“It’s DiPietro, by the way,” she confided against his skin, “In case you were wondering.”  A pleasant sigh punctuated her statement.

“What is?” 

Sera kissed along his jaw, her answer rich with amusement, “My surname.”

“Ahhhhhh,” he rumbled, recalling her hesitance in what—now--felt like a full week ago.  “DiPietro,” he repeated, enjoying the feel of it upon his tongue.

“Yes,” she laughed. “I didn’t want to trust you, you know.  I thought it would be safer not to say,” she admitted.

“And now?”  He had an inkling as to her reply.

“I would trust you with more than my life,” she confessed, unaware of the drift of his own thoughts, “I would trust you with my heart.”

The only answer he felt safe to give, was to pull her soft against him—hoping it would suffice for now.  Hoping that when the end came, he would not have to break such a beautiful, yet unasked for gift, and one so tenderly offered.

If you enjoyed this, chapters 1-12 of this WIP can be found on AO3.

tagging: @bakerstreethound @withalittlehoney @rmoonstoner

buy me a coffee?☕

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Listening to this cover of Mirrors by Boyce Avenue ft. Fifth Harmony and they hit me with the "just put your hand on the glass, I'm here trying to pull you through; you've just got to be strong.

I don't want to lose you now, I'm looking right at the other half of me":

Send help.

Yeah, that one went on the playlist so quick.

Istg I will share this playlist someday.

[nightscythe]

dark sides of the primarchs' relationships

some of these are very dark (esp lorgar, angron, ferrus I guess) but I wanted to represent some of the less enjoyable themes in their relationships. some are kind of obvious, but I wanted to expand a little. again, it's how I write them, so you may not necessarily agree!!

now has a light sides vers ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

18+ below the cut pls, it's sfw but some themes of death, obsession, etc, mostly pre-heresy

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the lion: struggles to interpret his feelings and often mistakes them as needs - namely, sexual need, but really any physical need. the heavy feeling in his heart because he hasn't seen you for weeks? must be because he had become used to your presence and his body must adapt to being without you. the burning in his chest when someone else dares to speak to you with a more suggestive tone? well, its not jealousy, it is his body telling him he needs you. overtime this would start to go, he would learn to interpret feelings in a more emotional way, but realistically he would need to care enough to want to try in the first place. he would always struggle though, turning every single one of his feelings about love into his duty. you're his responsibility, everyone else is a threat.

fulgrim: whilst it is obvious that his desire for perfection may have an impact on you, it has an equal burden on him. he always doubts himself, always taking a pessimistic view of both himself as a lover and to relationships as a whole. and your reassurance may never be enough, even if you do mean it and he seeks it out. he will always make each gift, each speech, each act of love bigger to meet his own desire to be better. and really? it can become more exhausting than anything. especially if he is always trying to prove himself and it sometimes starts to feel artificial. there would be a breaking point though where he finally realises to you, he is perfect, and there is nothing else he needs to do. but there is always that little, teeny doubt.

perty: trust issues will get to him more than anything. he'd need someone who has so much patience that it wears you down, but ultimately it would be worth it. the worst part is that he wouldn't often share how he feels, he keeps it to himself and sits brewing thoughts in his own head that you may just be like everyone else and not truly care. he'd keep it from you, never uttering a word, silently letting it all fester until it gets too much. and breaking down that wall he builds from his own thoughts would take a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of letting him work things out on his own. that's probably the biggest issue - he has a lot of time, something you may not as easily afford.

the khan: his idea of love is different. in a good way, maybe, but different to others. love for him is choice, and he will not restrict you to it. if you want to leave him, then go. if you want to spend a day without him, then do so. he'd really need someone who can deal with his laid back approach (or more so, his promotion of freedom above all other things) to love. that can be tough. his free spirit may just be too free to some people, and that's just what life is like. don't expect reassurance or speeches of his feelings, they are not happening. he's quick to make his decisions, his conclusions, and he's quick to temper. in the right conditions, this can make a storm. if anything ever goes bad.. good luck.

leman: it flips with him, very sudden, very easily. one day he's so enamoured, so utterly floored by everything you do that he's got massive heart eyes and following you around like a puppy. other times he's in his own world, following his own free spirit, that it can make you feel neglected. all of this just ends up causing more and more anxiety, unknowingly to him, and obviously to you. its all unintentional of course, he loves you so deeply. and his love itself? it's raw. he's so set on being stoic and strong but he is fragile too. he fears the worst, his emotions are never waste. everything he feels he shows directly to you. that can be overwhelming; all of this is overwhelming. especially when you could wake up one day and he's gone to do something without any warning, not evening thinking that you notice.

dorn: he's cold. he's so cold that it burns. or... is that the raging fire inside just reaching through the cracks? words mean nothing to him, and it can be difficult to truly know where you stand. he would never say he loves you, he would make you feel like he didn't ever need you, but should you ever leave? he'd tear the imperium down brick by brick until he had you back with him. it's unknowing to him. a duty. an unspoken loyalty. he doesn't believe in anything being temporary, so you're with him for life now. even if he never says it. and its the fact it's just actions, ones which may not mean anything to you, that makes it so hard. the door he gifted you with a heavy duty lock may be strange to you, but you did tell him you were worried about someone breaking in...

curze: does not feel he can be loved. he thinks he deserves it, but he never thinks anyone would dare. he thinks any affection shown to his is out of selfish fear and the second an opportunity presents itself, that love and affection would be gone. so he worries. he worries you are just like everyone else. makes assumptions, accusations, tells you that he thinks you're lying. probably because in the past he felt he should be loved and forced it out of people. he never once stops to think that maybe you lay beside him, you hold his hand, you take care of him, because you want to. it doesn't make sense to him, not without proof, or time, or anything to support your case. he'd get it eventually, he'd stop spending nights awake convinced you'll leave him when you sleep peacefully beside him with no intention of going.

sanguinius: his foresight is a burden, knowing what will happen to him means his guards are up. he would always be devoted, and he would carry the burden of fate to know he had shown you love in a way that mattered. but the sleepless nights would come, knowing the heartbreak would follow. especially at first, he'd try so hard, he'd want to protect others, you, from the fallout of fate. he'd never wanted you to see him in a way as more than a guardian, protector even, but it was inevitable. especially being who he is. and he would keep it to himself, and it would eat him up inside. he'd want to give you an easier way out, a ending where his death was the lesser of two evils, but he could never bring himself to leave. not before fate forced his hand.

ferrus: he has to make you better. you though fulgrim was obsessed with perfection? imagine that, but reversed, and intensified by a thousand. ferrus can make you better. he can make you stronger, he can make you everything you ever wanted. and over time, as he improves you, makes you need to know that he's impressed with you, it changes you. he's unrelenting. and it's not that he doesn't love you. oh, he loves you so so much. but there's a part of him that thinks his encouragement, his desire for your perfection, it helps you. together you can be the perfect couple, but not because of beauty or looks. then it feels like you're a project to him, little more than a toy for him to work on each and every day. and he'd let you go. he'd give you the choice, be free of him, but you'd hesitate. could you ever really be without him again?

angron: he only knows war. pain. death. love is so... small to him. he doesn't understand how to be gentle, how to replicate the love some of his brothers will. but he doesn't want to hurt you, either. and it shows. he will not hurt you, he will not make you feel pain, but he would die for you. and would you die for him? well. if you wouldn't, he would make you. love for him is a reflection of the strongest emotions he feels. the words he associates with it are different. violence. he'd kill anyone who stood between you. desperation. it's a feeling he can't describe as anything other than need. consuming. it grinds on him, wears him down, until he treats it the exact same way as everything else he feels. you're his, and you will become a part of him, whether you want to or not.

rob: it should be easy to him, but its not, and that makes him feel worse. he's not stupid, he can process love and emotion. yet... why does it feel so hard? he always feels like he is doing something wrong, always expression too little in case he reveals too much, whilst always trying to make up for something he fumbled already. its a vicious cycle. the reality of the situation is he's torn in every direction, he's needed by so many people, that he doesn't have time for love. yet he would fight to the very end of time to show it to you. and it exhausts him to no end. he'd just need a little patience, he'd very much enjoy if instead of something require brain or body power, he could just rest with you in his arms, enjoy the peace, but when that's every single evening, it could become a little hard

morty: he carries around a lot of anger and it's not always easy to hide. like a bitter old woman who sneers at kids for stepping on her lawn, but deep down she has a heart bigger than anyone - she just doesn't like it when he things are messed up. probably a bad analogy. the smallest things annoy him and he's got a quick temper. he constantly has to remind himself to check his own feelings, assess if he's reacting appropriately, then actually respond. so sometimes, it can feel artificial, like it's a brave face he puts on, and eventually you'll just want to know the real him. and you can, but it may not be as easily heard or understood. with time he would get better, he'd balance his emotions with your help, but until then it may never feel 100% real.

magnus: the poor guy, he just doesn't think (how obvious, I know). his actions are well intended but the way he comes across is a mixed bag. you're proud of something you've done or learned and in the spirit of sharing your achievement he does it in one try... or he tells you a more advance version of a spell with the intention of helping you but... it just comes across as him belittling you. like you were never good enough for him, that he is so so much better than you and his standard is so far above you. in reality, he's just happy, he's sharing those things because he thinks it will help you. he's worried that he's not good enough for you. he feels like he has to prove himself, to show you just everything he's capable of, elevate the two of you, together. aww :(

horus: he knows about his charisma. like a beacon that sits on his head and forces everyone to like him. and that makes him question the reality of everyone around him. are you nice to him because he's Horus, or because you want to be nice to him? are you kissing him because he's Horus, or because you want to kiss him? it's a guessing game that he is losing. he truly believes that those closest to him do not care, and overtime he has developed trust issues beyond saving. he'd never show it though, but inside everything can feel like a lie. he'd have a way to work it out though - he's not stupid - but his way is long and extended, tests and games which may not be appreciated, and it may feel like you need to prove to him why you care about him. was your love not enough? it was. but he just needed to know it wasn't manufactured by that damn beacon.

lorgar: love... its something different for him. it's not love. it's reverence. you become everything to him, his faith, his truth, his gospel. you become divine to him in every way, perfection incarnate, holy as the gods around him. and for that reason, it is all written in fate for him. you are meant to be with him, you are meant to stand by his side. he would build temples in your name, he would burn planets to the ground if it meant you were happy. he would destroy worlds to bring you what you wanted. but, if you are unhappy with that? if you do not accept his love and devotion? that's heresy. that's denying the truth. and escaping him, it can only come through death. his one is quite dark, i'm very sorry about that. unless you like it, then happy to help.

vulkan: he wouldn't have many faults, aside from obvious primarch things, but I think he's full of worry. not insecurity, but concern, always worried about you, always thinking he may hurt you, worried that the feats he puts himself through may have an unnecessary effect on you. he knows that he puts himself in danger but he can't stop himself, he know your concern that maybe just one time, he won't come back - but he will still test the limits anyway. he'd never show you every part of him, afraid it may just be too much for you, and though he's never hiding anything sinister, he'd always be hiding something. and you know it. and he'd smile, assuring you its nothing. it's literally just something like he's never tried kissing you in a certain way in case he hurts you. or he was wounded fatally again but he's okay. probably better if he just tells you... but secrets in the name of happiness, I guess.

corax: sometimes he goes, for days. for weeks, months even. some may even question whether you've just made it up in your own head. it's not that he doesn't care, or he doesn't love you, but... he got lost in his own head. what he needed to do. and it doesn't help that when you are together, he's cold, he's reserved, and its like you've never even met before sometimes. he can handle all of this, he's secure in his feelings and is loyal to you beyond anyone else, but can you? it's not that he would abandon you, or betray you, but when you've waited for him to come him for months and there's still no sign of him, your thoughts may start to go somewhere less pleasant. you can ask him to stop, but it's never permanent, even when he's fully opened to you emotionally - he'd unintentionally fill you with doubt.

alpharius: oh its a bit of a mindfuck. one loves you, one doesn't. one whispers sweetly in your ear, one just whispers. one touches your shoulder and catches the tips of his fingers on the curve of your neck, the other one just touches your shoulder. it's little things. barely noticeable at first. something the everyday person would have just shrugged off. but after time, you do notice. that's not Alpharius. and it makes you mad. to think he sent someone else in his place? he had to, and you'd never understand, but he hates it as much as you. do you know how badly he wants it to be him that is with you each day? how insulting it is to know that he was sharing you? it drives him to the brink of insanity. it's truly the worst feeling in the world. but there's nothing you can do about it, and you'll have to live with knowing that maybe the man next to you isn't the alpharius you love.

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[lilpuffyart]

3001 gang ref thingy (mostly for me so I can see their height difference easily)

Plus halmanpoole fanchild ref thumbs up emoji

[cybernetic-programming]

was talking to someone and had the idea of. well. this.

not a tba scene but this is a plausible scenario.

[marz-barzz]

A gentle reminder is sometimes more helpful than you realize

I drew myself eating soup in one of my favorite oc's lap

[ziffy14]

Shere Khan and Soni first meeting

When Soni moved to the the part of the jungle where the movie takes place, after making some friends along the way she started to hear stories about Shere Khan, "The ruler of the jungle" how powerful he was and spread fear among the animals, she got really curious and wondering how he would look like,even tho, she didn't want to encounter him ever, but it was a matter of time they eventually meeting. She was very intimidated by his presence at first, but with time that would change.