#post-shattered grid

[augment-techs]

I want a lover that’s dirtier and kinkier than me to make me worse.

--Drakkon on trial by the Emissaries asking what he wants...for some reason.

[augment-techs]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

For @regaliasonata Toku Summer Splash.

[augment-techs]

Fanfic titles: Everything Goes On + Sentry Adam/Anyone

Title: Everything Goes One (And On, and On, and On) Rating: M Warnings: Major Character Death. Relationships: World of the Coinless Adam Park/World of the Coinless Eugene Skullovitch; World of the Coinless Adam Park & World of the Coinless Aisha Campbell & World of the Coinless Rocky DeSantos; World of the Coinless Jason Scott & World of the Coinless Zack Taylor; World of the Coinless Kimberly Hart/World of the Coinless Farkas Bulkmier. Characters: Sentry Adam Park; World of the Coinless Aisha Campbell; World of the Coinless Rocky DeSantos; Sentry | Coinless Eugene Skullovitch's Sentry Division; World of the Coinless Farkas Bulkmeier; World of the Coinless Jason Scott; etc. Additional Tags: Comic: Drakkon New Dawn - Alternate Universe; Canon Divergence; Blood and Injury; mention of Sexual Assault; Victim Blaming; Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD; implied Genital Mutilation; Grieving; BAMF!Adam Park; Hurt/Comfort. Summary:

Digging half moons into the grounds of the open desert between the husk of Stone Canyon, and the Angel Grove Drakkon had claimed as his own, and the Command Center left abandoned not only after being sacked, but after being mutated and dragged on by the ghost witch risen and defeated was...not exactly soothing. Hands without gloves working with something as basic as a shovel was exhausting and tedious, but it was still something to do.

Half moons and long lines and even squiggles. All planned in advance and prepped on paper in complicated math probabilities for rainfall and rain collection, where to place seeds and plant saplings, what the chances were that things could thrive again.

And it wasn't as if Adam was alone in this. He wasn't the only one that had walked out of the palace and Angel Grove itself when Jason Scott had fucked up so spectacularly; the other former Rangers getting the mission and soldiers back into order, but too late. Adam's entire division had followed him in gathering belongings from their own rooms at the barracks, packing up some food and water for the long trek, and then taking the trek to Stone Canyon.

All the while carrying the body of their captain, dead, wrapped in linen and with no argument from the Coinless--because if they'd tried to take that, the former Eighth Division would have killed them. And after they'd chased down the invaders and removed Eclipta's head from her shoulders in rage at her cutting down their Captain, neither Hart nor Taylor nor Scorpina nor Kwan nor even Bulkmeier (shocked, stunned mess that he was) were wont to try their luck.

Aisha and Rocky had volunteered, in the weeks after, to serve as liaison to the burgeoning branch colony, but Adam couldn't bring himself to really talk to them.

Not until he and the others could decide on what to do with the body they'd washed and respectfully covered in cleaner, richer linen they'd found. Not until they could take him out of the industrial freezer they'd gotten working again in an old butcher's shop--the only thing that had once been alive stored in the place since even before everything went wrong.

...Adam was still waiting to cry until he was well and truly alone. Someone was always checking on him.

(A heartwarming thing he appreciated, but also resented.)

@skyland2703

[augment-techs]

barely legal + Kimberly Hart/Anyone? For the sake of trying it out??

…He did not slide all the way in.

It would be impossible for it all to come in one go, Kim knew that; the Ranger Slayer had explained and walked her through the method and madness and prep work involved to get Bulk all the way inside her ass with the monument to his modest self-control at full mast.

But she had kind of hoped that it would go all the way in and she wouldn't be bound to make so much noise with Tommy on the other side of the room, not-quite-lost in his own experience.

Her display was gorgeous to him, though. That much was apparent from his hands being white knuckled, clutching the Slayer's head sentry Skull's knees like a benevolent throne of muscle and encouragement; breathing heavy with half-hooded eyes following the line of Kim balanced on her tip-toes while Skull whispered things Kim couldn't hear in Tommy's ear and expertly worked his cock out of his pants without touching him--at least, not touching his skin. Which was against the rules they'd set down.

"Breathe Kim," the Slayer coaxed, holding Kim's free hand that wasn't around Bulk's neck to keep her centered and in the moment, even as thick fingers slid wonderfully over his clit and sopping cunt that was dripping down on the floor; little rivulets sliding down her thighs from the lubricant (water based) Bulk had pressed into her straight from the tube with his Kimberly's help when he managed to spread this little one wide enough, "You can't get an orgasm if you don't breathe. The hardest part is the breech, and that's over. Take a deep breath."

Bulk licked the back of her neck and her attention was drawn over to where Skull had gotten Tommy to take a deep breathe of his own, followed up by a little squealing as he kicked out his legs before looping lean ankles around Skull's own and bit his lip. The much older man pressed the tips of his fingers right above Tommy's pubic bone in half moons where his boxers kept that little button that he never used to let himself out. He had Tommy lick the fingers of his free hand, and began working one of his nipples.

The sight relaxed her, moved her, and she did as she was told, inhaling deep through her mouth and allowing her muscles to relax instead of contract on her exhale.

Bulk slid six inches in, and though Kim was dizzy, flat on her feet and in heaven as she watched Tommy, listened to him beg a little as Skull brought a finger to press at his underwear where he knew his puckered hole wasn't resisting in the least, there were still four more inches before Bulk bottomed out.

And Kim wanted those four inches. Wanted the fence post of a cock to ram into her like a car crash.

But her living Ghost of Christmas Future was smiling wide as a Cheshire and wasn't about to let that happen. Her younger self was supposed to learn patience and control, while Tommy was supposed to learn to listen and ask for what he wanted while respecting boundaries.

"Skull, can you bring Tommy a little bit closer?"

The sentry hummed, wrapping Tommy's arms around his neck, his legs folding awkwardly around his hips as his pants fell off and hit the floor, but his boxers remained in position; his cock pressed through the hole and pulsing at the feel of fabric and his ass against the not inconsiderate bulge of Skull's waist high leather trousers.

The Slayer pushed the ottoman she'd been sitting on closer to the bed and Skull took his cue to sit down so Tommy was at eye level to Kim's lightly bouncing tits. All four with no more than a foot between them as Bulk rocked into Kim and Skull blew into Tommy's ear like a zephyr to get him riled up into moaning Kim's name even while grinding the skin of his back into Skull's cotton shift, his ass into the bulge that wouldn't move into him.

The ruler of the Coinless universe kind of felt bad that it was the best they could do under the circumstances. Kim could do whatever she wanted, but poor Tommy was the youngest in the room and still had a month before his birthday.

This would make a good memory, though: Kim learning her limits, Tommy treading the waters of self-control; Skull in a position of quiet dignity, Bulk getting to experience his adult lover's youth in the kindest way as she looked on--fingering herself when she wasn't giving pointers.