#william clockwell

The directive had been clear: find mates, rebuild the Empire.

With numbers that low, inbreeding was inevitable, and that was unacceptable. Not just immoral by Viltrumite standards, but catastrophic. Shared alleles, recessive traits, weakness. Their superior blood diluted over generations until they were indistinguishable from the lesser species they once conquered. 

No. 

That could never be allowed.

Humans, according to the reports, were the most compatible. Nolan’s half-breed child had proven that much. Promising, at first. Until your records reached his hands. 

Not long after you allowed the Viltrumites to remain on Earth, on the single condition that no human be harmed. The one-eyed alien calling himself Allen and your failure of a brother stole the Scourge Virus, intending to unleash it on the survivors. 

You stopped him. You always did. You prevented a catastrophe, and paid for it by taking the infection into your own body. 

That was why you had been quarantined for two weeks aboard the lunar vessel, isolated, watched, studied. 

It wouldn’t have come to this if you had acted faster when Allen confronted you. If you hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t cared so much about the fragile humans who interfered, you might have avoided infection entirely.

Still, Thragg found himself almost grateful for your stubbornness. Without it, your disgraced brother would never have escaped, never would have infected you… and Thragg would never have uncovered what now lay before him. 

At first, your survival had intrigued him. Your body—young by Viltrumite standards—had endured the Scourge Virus and fought it off. 

He assumed it was your human blood carrying the burden. A flaw compensating for a weakness. But the results told a different story. 

Your Viltrumite DNA wasn’t diluted. It was… elevated. Stronger. Cleaner. 

Superior.

Infuriatingly so, even surpassing his own. Suspicion turned to obsession as he combed through archived records, cross-referencing, verifying. And then he found it. The truth.

You were a descendant of Emperor Argall. You… and Nolan. Traitors. Both of you. 

Rage came swiftly, violently.

The doctor assigned to your care didn’t even have time to scream before Thragg ended him. The body hit the floor with a dull finality, forgotten just as quickly. Thragg turned, moving towards the sealed chamber where you lay, still unconscious, still tethered to oxygen tanks and IV lines. The quarantine period had passed. There was no longer any risk to him. Only to you. 

The door slid open with a hiss.

He stepped inside slowly, deliberately, the air heavy with silence. His fingers twitched at his side as he approached your bed, his gaze fixed on your face; too peaceful, too unaware. Then his eyes lowered to your neck.

If he ended you now, everything would fall into place. 

The Coalition’s mistake. The virus. Your death. The humans would mourn their precious hero, rage at the ones responsible, and in their desperation… they would turn to the Viltrumites for protection. Control would be effortless. 

The plan unfolded in his mind with perfect clarity, looping like a vision already realized.

His hands rose, settling around your throat. Not tightening, not yet. Just feeling.

The warmth of your soft skin against his calloused palms. The fragile pulse beneath. It would be so easy. A squeeze. A snap. The end of a threat before it ever had the chance to rise.

“What are you—?” The voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.

Thragg turned sharply, irritation flashing into something sharper when he saw it. That ridiculous, meddling dinosaur. The one who had somehow slipped onto his ship.

He should have killed it the moment it revealed himself. Thragg knew that now.

No hesitation this time. Thragg’s fist connected first.

The impact alone split the air, a violent crack that echoed through the metal walls as the dinosaur was launched across the corridor, its massive body tearing through panels and wiring before slamming into the far bulkhead. The ship shuddered from the force. Sparks rained down.

But the creature didn’t stay down.

The dinosaur dragged itself upright with a guttural snarl, blood slipping between teeth, tail lashing behind as it charged again—reckless, unrelenting. He swung wide, tail aiming for Thragg’s throat, but Thragg moved faster. He caught the creature’s tail mid-swing and twisted.

A sickening crack.

The limb bent the wrong way, snapping beneath the Viltrumite's strength.

Still, the dinosaur lunged forward, jaws snapping shut inches from Thragg’s face. The force rattled the corridor, teeth scraping against each other with a sound that grated like grinding metal. Thragg drove his knee upward into the creature’s abdomen, the blow folding him in half before sending him crashing back again.

Metal groaned. The walls dented inward.

“You’re persistent,” Thragg said coldly, stepping forward through the settling smoke. “But persistence is not strength.”

The dinosaur spat blood, breathing heavy, but there was something sharp behind his pain, calculation. He pushed himself off the wreckage, ignoring the tail hanging uselessly at his back, and charged again, using his weight this time instead of precision.

He slammed into Thragg with enough force to drive them both through the corridor wall. They tore into another section of the vessel, debris collapsing around them as alarms blared louder, more frantic. The dinosaur didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Not now. He clamped his jaws down on Thragg’s shoulder, teeth digging in, trying to anchor himself, trying to do something, anything.

For a moment, it looked like it might work.

Then Thragg grabbed him.

Both hands locked onto his skull, fingers digging into scale and bone as if it were nothing more than soft clay. With a single, brutal motion, he ripped the dinosaur free and slammed him headfirst into the floor. The impact cratered the metal beneath them.

“You should’ve never given me access to your files,” the dinosaur growled, blood thick in its voice but confidence unshaken. “I’ve learned a lot about you these past few hours. Enough to know… you don’t want anything bad happening to this ship. I found weaknesses. Made adjustments.”

A distant explosion thundered through the vessel, metal groaning as the shockwave rippled through its structure. Thragg’s glare sharpened, murderous.

“You talk too much,” Thragg muttered. 

The dinosaur charged again, desperation fueling its final attempt. Jaws snapped wide, aiming to crush, to tear but against Thragg it was nothing. Less than nothing. Thragg caught its mandibles mid-lunge, grip tightening with brutal precision before wrenching them apart. Bone cracked. Flesh tore. The sound echoed, final and absolute.

But the creature didn’t fall, not yet.

With a last, reckless burst of strength, the dinosaur staggered past him—past the blood, the ruin—and into your containment room. He grabbed your unconscious body, cradling you against its massive frame, and bolted for the escape bay.

Thragg moved instantly, fury driving him forward as alarms continued to scream throughout the ship. The corridors blurred as he raced after them, the damage spreading, systems failing. By the time he reached the viewport it was too late.

The escape pod had already launched.

A small, distant shape cutting through the void… heading straight for Earth. 

When your eyes finally opened, the first thing you saw was the moon—distant, suspended in a dark sky scattered with stars. For a moment, everything felt still. You pushed yourself up slowly from the floor, your body still weak, fragile. Every movement dragging pain along with it. Your hips barely lifted as you forced yourself onto a nearby chair.

As the chair turned, your view shifted; mountains stretched across the horizon, their silhouettes swallowed by a vast forest that seemed to go on endlessly. No cities. No lights. No signs of life. Not even the faint glow of civilization to break the darkness.

This place… you didn’t recognize it.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” The voice snapped you out of the thoughts. Turning over you saw David Anders standing in the doorway.

“David? What are we doing here?”

“I don’t know. I just woke up about an hour ago. Do you remember anything?”

You furrowed your brows, fingers pressing against the bridge of your nose as if forcing the memories back. “Not much… I woke up in a pile of wreckage. You were unconscious in your human form. After that, I blacked out again… probably from this.” You winced, clutching your stomach as you crouched slightly, trying to contain the pain twisting inside.

“And what about the—” David started.

“Dinosaurus?” you cut in. “I don’t know. I guess… he’s the one who brought us here.”

David tilted his head, a strange grin creeping onto his face. “Did I make you sick or something? Maybe I tricked you. When I’m the monster, I’m pure evil… that’s why you gotta watch out.”

“Pure evil?” you repeated, studying him. “No… if you think about it, why would he save us? Dinosaurus wouldn’t do something like this without a reason. He kinda reminds me of… well, my brother…”

“What? You still sick?”

“No, it’s nothing.” You shook your head lightly. “It’s just… my brother doesn’t mean to do bad things. He does what he thinks is necessary for the better outcome, without thinking about how it affects others.” You paused, your voice quieter now. “He’s not pure evil… he’s pure intelligence.”

You and David spent the hour going back and forth, debating whether Dinosaurus was truly evil or not. The argument circled endlessly, neither fully convinced, neither willing to give in.

“Whatever you say, girl,” David finally sighed, stretching. “I’m just gonna enjoy my time here. I’ve been stuck in that monster form for too long. I hope it never comes ba—”

His words cut off abruptly. You barely had time to react before his body began to twist, bones cracking, muscles expanding as the transformation took hold again.

Ironic timing.

“You’re looking much better.” Dinosaurus’ voice replaced David’s entirely as the transformation finished. He stood taller now, imposing, his presence filling the room. “My form rebuilds itself every time I transform.” He glanced around, sharp, alert. “Are they here yet?” His voice sharpened. “Have they struck?”

“Uh… I have no idea what you’re talking about,” confusion creeping into your voice.

“The Viltrumites!” he snapped. “He tried to kill you. I escaped, retreated here. Surely they would have followed.” He began pacing, sniffing the air, scanning the surroundings like a predator searching for a hidden threat.

“Well… it’s been a while since we landed,” you said cautiously. “If they wanted us dead, they would’ve found us by now.”

He paused, turning back to you. “How are you feeling? I was told you survived the worst of it.”

“Fine… just… weird.” You shifted slightly, wincing. “My body still hurts, but I’m managing.”

“Good. Try to stay alive.”

You hesitated, then spoke again. “You said he tried to kill me. Who’s ‘he’?”

“Thragg.”

“Thragg?”

“Yes.” His voice hardened. “He tried to kill me as well. Luckily, he was foolish enough to let me access his files. I found weaknesses in his ship, took advantage of them. That’s when I saw him… standing over you. His hands around your neck. About to snap it.”

Your stomach dropped. “But… why?” you whispered. “I thought we had an agreement…”

“I do not know why.”

The words had barely left his mouth when a loud wroom tore through the air.

A figure crashed straight into Dinosaurus, sending both of them across the room as the walls shook from the impact. They were on each other instantly, blows landing hard and fast.

You stared frozen. The new figure… looked like you. Same hair color. Even wearing your Invincible suit.

“Get out of here while you can!” he shouted, locking Dinosaurus in place. “I’ll slow him down!”

“What?! Why are you here?! Who are you?!” you yelled back, confusion twisting into panic.

Another voice tore in. 

You turned just in time to see Atom Eve flying in. She pulled you into a quick, desperate hug, but it didn’t last. Another crash shattered the moment as glass exploded across the room.

Oliver burst through, grabbing Dinosaurus by the neck, shouting at him to stay away from you. Allen followed close behind, stepping in with measured caution.

“Keep your distance, Oliver,” Allen warned. “This guy’s no lightweight. Trust me.”

Everything spiraled too fast. Voices overlapping. Blows landing. No one listening.

Frustration boiled over.

Before you could stop yourself, you lunged forward and threw a punch. Your fist colliding with Allen’s thick, unyielding skin.

Pain exploded instantly.

A scream tore from your throat as you staggered back. Your hand split open on impact, muscle tearing, skin ripping as blood poured out rapidly, pooling at your feet.

Everyone suddenly stopped what they were doing. 

Eve rushed towards you, her voice filled with panic as she dropped to your side.

He stared down at his hands, seated behind the desk in his office, still unable to shake the weight of your medical results.

He had already torn the reports apart, fed their remains to the fire, but destruction meant nothing. The truth lingered; etched into his memory, clawing at his thoughts, refusing to be silenced. At the very least, Lucan, Kregg, and Anissa had not been there to witness it. No one had. No one except the doctor assigned to your care, and Thragg had dealt with him swiftly, before a single word could be spoken.

Perhaps that was why the silence felt so suffocating. 

His closest allies were scattered across Earth, carrying out his orders, leaving him alone with nothing but time. Nothing but waiting. Waiting for reports. Waiting for progress. And now, with you gone, the emptiness of it all became even more apparent. At least when you were here, there had been something to anticipate; whether you would recover… or finally succumb to the virus. It hadn’t mattered which. And yet, if he were honest with himself, your survival had made things far more interesting.

His thoughts drifted again, not to the data this time, but to you.

To the way your body had looked, small and fragile against the medical bed. The tubes. The oxygen mask. The IV fluids keeping you alive as the virus ravaged you from within. You had looked weaker then—paler, worn down, shadows carved beneath your eyes. And still… not unpleasant to look at. For a human, at least. Humans were inferior, he knew that, believed it without question. Yet the image lingered. Your hair pulled back neatly, your arms resting close together over the blanket as if even in unconsciousness you conserved what little strength you had. 

It was becoming… irritating. How often you appeared in his thoughts.

Then, suddenly an idea.

With so few Viltrumites remaining, he had already ordered them to repopulate. To take human mates. To produce heirs that would rebuild the Empire. They had spread themselves across the planet; Kregg in Arizona, Lucan in New York, Anissa in Florida. Others scattered across nations he scarcely cared to remember. Brazil, Cuba, Germany, Egypt, Thailand, Russia, Japan, Australia. It didn’t matter where they went, only that they fulfilled their purpose. Still… there was something almost curious about Earth’s diversity. Vast. Varied. Different.

Perhaps… he should do the same.

Set an example.

Yes, that was it.

Thragg would show them how it should be done. How to choose properly. What traits to seek. Strength. Resilience. Intelligence. The qualities required to produce a child worthy of the Empire. Not equal to a pure-blooded Viltrumite. Never that, but something close. Something acceptable.

The thought stirred something unpleasant within him. Disgust.

But it was a necessary sacrifice.

The issue, however, was choosing someone. No human, realistically, met his standards. None were worthy of carrying his offspring. No matter how far he searched, how carefully he considered, there was always something lacking. Always weakness.

No one… except you.

You were the closest thing to perfection he had seen outside of his own kind. Proven strength. Proven capability. You had faced Viltrumites and survived. More than that, you had defeated them. Conquest, of all warriors. One of the Empire’s strongest. A soldier with thousands of years of experience. And you—just in your twenties, burdened with human blood—had beaten him. Twice. Killed Conquest during you last confrontation with him.

That had impressed him, genuinely.

Your resilience and refusal to yield. The way you fought, pushed forward, never allowing anything to stand in your way. That was what mattered. That was what his people needed to understand. Not weak, complacent humans content with their own mediocrity but individuals who strived. Who endured. Who evolved.

You embodied that.

If he were to do this… then you would be the one.

The only one worthy of carrying his heirs.

And with your lineage—Argall’s blood still flowing through you—this would not merely be necessity. It would be destiny. A final gift to the Empire. Heirs who would carry both Argall’s legacy and his own.

The plan was logical, sound. Already solidifying into certainty.

Thragg rose from his chair, the decision settling firmly in his mind. There were preparations to be made aboard the hidden ship on the moon before his departure. He knew where to find you. Chicago. Living with your human mother and half-brother. Nolan would likely still linger nearby. Unable to detach himself from his attachments, your mother.

Annoying.

If confrontation became unavoidable, it would be dealt with. Nolan was no match for him. Not in strength, not in experience, not in anything that mattered. It would be inconvenient, perhaps even regrettable. Once, Nolan had been a loyal soldier. Worthy of respect. But if he stood in the way he would be removed.

Thragg exhaled slowly, his resolve unshaken.

Your existence would more than make up for betrayal.

Both of you… saviors of Viltrum.

Soon, he would leave the ship and return to Earth for a second time.

You were sitting on a bench at the campus park, waiting for Eve and William, your attention fixed on your arm, still shattered. Cecil’s people had done what they could, performing surgery, installing robotic components to stabilize it. Your strength had returned, mostly. But your durability… hadn’t. 

Thoughts drifted, back to where it all began. The Scourge Virus. Oliver, careless and reckless. Infecting you without even meaning to. You loved your little brother, you really did, but sometimes… it was frustrating. The way he ignored the warnings, the way everything he touched seemed to spiral into chaos. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that. Just stubborn. Always chasing the end goal, no matter the cost, no matter who got hurt along the way.

What was the point of saving the world… if there was no one left to save?

Oliver never thought about that, and it was starting to get irritating. He was getting older, stronger, and if he didn’t start understanding the consequences of his actions… you didn’t want to think about what he might become. You cared too much for him; Too much to watch him destroy himself like that.

“Hey! You’re back!” William’s voice snapped you out of the thoughts. He jogged towards you, Eve and Rick trailing behind side by side.

“William, I’m happy to see you too.”

“You know I’m very hurt you didn’t tell me sooner you’d be back.”

“Sorry… I barely had time to get settled before—”

“Before you got sick, yeah, I know. Eve filled me in,” he cut in, waving it off. “Don’t worry, I’m just being dramatic. But seriously, I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad to be back too.” You gave him a small, genuine smile.

“Hey, is anyone else hungry? Because I could eat anything right now,” William announced.

“Ugh, I’m starving,” Eve groaned. “I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

“Perfect,” Rick chimed in. “There’s a new ramen place down the street. We should try it.” Seems like he had been really wanting to go to this place, but the opportunity never came until now.

“Sounds good.”

You stood from the bench and fell into step besides them, letting the conversation carry you forward. 

Not long after the war—before the virus—you had flashes. The hallucinations. The way your mind twisted reality into something unbearable. You’d see Anissa tearing William’s jaw open, only to blink and find him standing there, completely fine. It had been like that with everyone. Every conversation, every glance, you saw them being ripped apart, blood everywhere, Viltrumites slaughtering them like it was nothing.

It had been suffocating.

You went to Cecil. Asked for help, real help. Doctors. Therapy. And it did get better, sowly. But no matter how much you tried to bury it, the fear never fully left. It lingered, quiet but constant, in the back of your mind.

You couldn’t go through that again.

A small bell chimed as Rick held the door open for everyone.

The restaurant was modest. Cozy. A few college students sat scattered around, quietly eating. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Alright, what’s everyone getting?” William asked, already staring up at the menu screen.

“I’ll have tuna rolls and gyoza with a matcha boba,” Eve said.

“I’ll take tonkotsu ramen,” you added.

“Just onigiri for me,” 

“Got it. I’ll order. You guys grab a table.” William headed off towards the counter.

Rick picked a table by the window. You sat beside Eve, leaving the open seat across for William.

A few minutes later, he returned. “Alright, food should be out in about 20 to 30 minutes.” He dropped into his seat next to Rick, then leaned forward slightly. “Sooo… have you talked to Amber yet?”

Of course he’d ask that. William thrived on this kind of thing.

“No. Not yet. I haven’t had time.”

“Well… are you going to?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t want to… I just don’t want to worry her with all this. She has her own life, her own problems. I don’t think it’s fair to drag her back into mine.” You scratched the back of your head. “Besides… we broke up almost two years ago.”

“She still asks about you, you know,” Eve added casually.

You blinked. “She does?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought she didn’t want anything to do with me after… everything.” Your gaze dropped slightly, memories creeping back in. All the times she’d asked where you were, why you kept disappearing. You thought you were protecting her by not saying anything but all it had done was push her away.

You messed that up.

If you’d known it would hurt her that much… maybe you wouldn’t have dated her at all. Maybe it would’ve been better to just stay friends.

“Well, she does have a boyfriend now,” William added, “but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t want to be friends again.”

“You really think she’d talk to me?”

“Of course. We’re not saying to get back together. I doubt she’d want that anyway, but you should at least try. As friends.”

“I guess…” you murmured. “I just don’t want to hurt her again.”

The waiter approached then, balancing a tray filled with steaming dishes. One by one, he placed them on the table. “Enjoy,” he said before heading back to the kitchen.

You reached for the water first, taking a small sip before grabbing a spoon to taste the broth. It was warm and comforting, and for a moment, everything felt… normal.

Thragg watched from a distance; Silent and unseen. He observed—carefully, methodically—how you carried yourself when you weren’t tearing down empires or “saving” the world.

Your life was… simple. Almost disappointingly so.

Most days were spent with Eve, the two of you waiting around for William to finish his classes so the three of you could fall into your routine: the mall, movies, wandering through the city with no real destination, coffee shops, ramen places, bookstores. Small, meaningless human indulgences repeated day after day. Then on Saturday, you went to the beach, staying from morning until nightfall, only leaving when the sky darkened and the world quieted.

From what he gathered, you enjoyed going out. Being surrounded by people. You laughed easily, ate whatever you pleased, and seemed… content.

Thragg had learned a great deal about you in that single week.

And you hadn’t noticed him once.

Blending in among humans was insultingly easy. 

One night, while the city slept, he slipped into a clothing store unnoticed. He selected what he needed with little care for fashion, just function. A red shirt with dark blue pants made from some strange blend of cotton and synthetic fibers. White shoes, simple and comfortable. A hat—polyester, with a button at the top, a curved brim to shield the face, and a strap at the back to adjust its fit.

On his way out, something else caught his attention. A mannequin stood near the display window, dressed like the others, but its face was different. Covered with something black stretched over its eyes.

Thragg paused.

Curious.

He took it as well, examining it briefly before placing it on his own face. It served its purpose. He left without another thought.

But then Sunday came. Something changed. You didn’t meet Eve or William. You met someone else, a man.

Thragg’s gaze sharpened instantly. Your mate, perhaps.

It didn’t matter who he was; If he became an obstacle, he would be removed. Still, curiosity lingered. He followed at a careful distance, close enough to hear, far enough to remain undetected.

“I was just worried about you… I haven’t seen you in years,” the man admitted, his voice uneasy.

You didn’t answer, barely looked at him, your attention fixed elsewhere, as if he were nothing more than background noise.

The silence stretched.

He sighed. “Look… I just missed you. I wanted to see you again.”

“James…” You rubbed your temple, already sounding exhausted.

“Just think about it. Give me another chance?”

“A chance?” you echoed, incredulous. “You were the one who broke up with me.”

“I know I messed up—” his voice cracked, desperate now. “Just… please forgive me. Let’s pretend none of it happened. We can start over, start new."

Your expression hardened. “What, Jackie stopped answering your messages?” you shot back, your tone sharp, biting. “So now you come running back to me, hoping to get your dick wet?”

He flinched at that but said nothing, just stared at the ground like a loser.

“You’re unbelievable,” you snapped, turning away from him, already done with the conversation. But he grabbed your arm. 

“Babe, please wait. That’s not it. I really missed you!”

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed, trying to pull free. “Let go of me, James.”

“Just listen—”

“No!” Your voice cut through him, final. “You had your chance. And you ruined it.”

With a sharp movement, you struck his chest, just enough force to break his grip. He stumbled backwards, falling hard onto the ground as you turned and ran, putting as much distance between the two as possible.

Thragg watched it all unfold, unmoving and unimpressed.

This was the man you had chosen?

Pathetic.

Weak. Spineless. All that begging, that whining. It was almost painful to witness. Whatever connection you once had, it was clear now: it had ended badly. And deservedly so.

To see someone like you—strong, capable, relentless—reduced to tolerating something like that… it was almost insulting.

If you had been one of his soldiers—one of the Viltrumites he had ordered to repopulate with humans—he would have reprimanded you without hesitation for choosing someone so utterly unworthy.

Just another reason.

Another confirmation.

Why he needed to intervene. Why you needed to be the example.

You got home late, taking a detour to Eve’s place to tell her everything that had happened with James. She had been furious, angry that he even dared to reach out to you again after everything he had done. After the way he ended things.

You slipped quietly into the house, careful not to wake your mother or Oliver as you made your way to the bathroom. The shower helped; washing away the residue of the day, the tension clinging to your skin—but it didn’t quiet your thoughts. You dried off, leaving the towel draped carelessly over a chair, too exhausted to put it away properly. Then applied lotion on your skin, putting on the underwear and an oversized t-shirt after.

Your phone buzzed.

A notification from an unknown number, but you already knew who it was before you even opened it.

“Can we please talk?”

James.

You stared at the message for a moment, your jaw tightening. How he even got your new number was beyond you. With a quiet sigh, you muted the phone and left it on the nightstand to charge, unwilling to give him more attention.

But your mind didn’t listen, it drifted back. Back to those years with him.

You remembered when things started to change, how distant he became. The lack of touch. No hugs or kisses, just a dry half-hearted “hey babe” before turning his attention elsewhere. You told yourself it was nothing at first. Stress. School. Life.

Then came that night.

You had just finished a brutal physics exam, nerves already frayed, convinced you had failed when your phone lit up with a long message. A rant. Line after line of dissatisfaction, of cold detachment, ending with two words that shattered everything.

We’re over.

You remembered how your chest tightened, how your hands shook as you called William, desperate, barely able to get the words out. He had come to your dorm immediately, staying with you, making sure you weren’t alone… making sure you didn’t do anything stupid.

Two weeks later, you found out the truth.

Jackie.

He had been cheating the entire time.

And while part of you was relieved you weren’t with him anymore, it didn’t erase the bitterness. The way he spoke to you in that message, like you weren’t enough, like you were something to discard while hiding the fact that he already had someone else.

Then, a year later, you met Amber.

She was different. Kind. Patient. She made you feel safe, understood. At first, things were good—really good. But then your responsibilities grew heavier. Cecil pulled you away more often. Missions stacked on top of each other, each one more dangerous than the last, and they never stopped coming.

You didn’t tell her why at first, thinking you were protecting Amber; keeping her out of it, keeping her safe from becoming a target. It made sense at the time. It felt right.

But it wasn’t.

The distance grew. Arguments followed. You scrambled for excuses, anything to avoid telling her the truth. But Amber wasn’t naive, she saw through it. She even accused you of cheating once, despite knowing what you had gone through with James.

That hurt a lot.

Eventually, when things calmed down—when the chaos gave you just enough breathing room—you told her everything. About being Invincible. About the constant danger.

She was shocked, of course. Said she knew something was off, but never imagined that. She understood. She really did. But understanding didn’t mean she could stay.

Her heart couldn’t handle loving someone who was always gone, always in danger. And you… you deserved someone who could live that life with you.

So she ended it.

And you agreed.

Even as the tears wouldn’t stop, even as your chest ached like it was being torn apart all over again, you knew she was right.

Amber hadn’t betrayed you.

She had chosen herself.

And you respected her for that.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, willing your body to rest but sleep wouldn’t come. Something felt wrong. Your instincts screaming, loud and persistent, refusing to be ignored.

With a frustrated sigh, you sat up, reaching for the water bottle nearby, taking a sip when you saw it. Through your window.

There was a figure. 

Hovering at a distance, silhouetted by the full moon behind them. You couldn’t make out their features, but they weren’t hiding. They weren’t moving. Just… watching.

Waiting.

Viltrumite.

The thought came instantly.

You didn’t bother changing. No suit. No hesitation. You shot out the window, flying straight towards the figure, fist already pulling back, ready to strike but you stopped. Your body wasn’t fully healed. You knew that. And for a split second, that realization held you back. Long enough to see who it was.

Thragg.

“What are you doing here?!” you demanded, anger sharp in your voice.

“Calm yourself,” he said evenly, his hand lifting slightly to lower your fist, which hovered mere inches from his face. “I wish to speak with you.”

“After you tried to kill me, you want to talk?!”

“I see that dinosaur still lives, considering you are aware of that,” he replied, almost dismissively. “A shame. I had hoped he would bleed out in the escape pod. But that is… precisely what I wish to discuss.”

“Then talk.”

For a moment, he said nothing. His eyes shifted, scanning the surroundings.

“Not here,” he finally said. “Come.”

Before you could react his hand moved, gripping your lower back, pulling you closer to him as he ascended rapidly into the sky, dragging you along with him.

“I can fly too, you know…”

You were back on the Viltrumite ship, inside Thragg’s office.

He hadn’t spoken yet.

But you could see it in him. The tension. The way his jaw tightened, muscles shifting beneath his skin as if he were carefully choosing his words, shaping them into something deliberate. Whatever this was, it wasn’t casual. It wasn’t simple.

It was something he cared about.

And that alone put you on edge.

Growing impatient, you snapped, “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. I don’t have all the time in the world for you.”

His gaze snapped to you, sharp enough to feel like it burned into your skull. “Do you know of Emperor Argall?”

“Argall?” You frowned slightly. “Not really. Just what my dad mentioned, and that wasn’t much. Just that he was some Viltrumite emperor… and that Thaedus killed him.”

“Emperor Argall,” Thragg corrected, his tone tightening. “Was the greatest Viltrumite to ever exist. He fought his way to the throne. He was wise. He led our people to victory after victory. He taught us how to conquer, to claim the galaxy as ours.” His voice lowered slightly. “And he was murdered. Stabbed through the head by the Betrayer… Thaedus, as you call him.”

You leaned back slightly, unimpressed. “Is that what you dragged me here for? To give me a history lesson about your favorite tyrant?”

Thragg’s hands pressed together slowly, his restraint visibly thinning. “You lack discipline,” he said coldly. “That is something I can correct… in time.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You’re talking like I’m staying here.”

“That,” he said, the faintest twitch of a smirk pulling at his lips, “is exactly what I wished to discuss.”

“About what? More stories about Viltrum?”

He ignored your attempt at provocation.

“Did your father ever tell you about Argall’s missing heirs?”

“No…”

“Hmm.” He turned slightly, pacing behind his desk. “It seems he was unaware as well. After Argall’s death, his children were taken, hidden away to be protected until the time came for them to return and reclaim the throne. In their absence, I took command of the Empire. I ruled until his heirs could be found.” His tone hardened. “Many impostors rose, claiming that bloodline. Weak fools. All of them died trying to take what was never theirs.”

You stayed quiet this time, watching him, listening despite yourself. You hated everything the Viltrumite Empire stood for, but you couldn’t deny. It was… interesting in its own way.

“For centuries, we found nothing,” he continued. “No true descendants. No trace of Argall’s line.”

You frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

He paused. Then turned his back to you, standing still behind his desk.  “Because…” The silence stretched—heavy, suffocating—before he finally finished. “You and your father are Argall’s true descendants.”

Your breath hitched. “Wh-what? How do you even know that?!” Your voice trembled, anger and disbelief tangling together.

“You were not meant to survive the Scourge Virus,” he said calmly. “None of us were. Yet your body endured. We took samples, compared your blood to that of other Viltrumites. We believed, perhaps, there was a way to replicate your resilience… a way to save our people should another outbreak occur.” His gaze sharpened. “But your DNA was not merely resilient. It was different. Superior.”

He stepped closer.

“I compared your records to archived genetic data. Emperor Argall’s records… and they matched.”

Before you could react he moved fast. His hand shot forward, wrapping around your throat, forcing you back against the floor as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.

“You did not truly believe I would surrender the Empire to you and your father, did you?” he hissed, his voice low against your ear. “Not after everything you’ve done. After slaughtering our people. After destroying our world.” His grip tightened slightly. “Because of you… because of Nolan… we stand on the brink of extinction.”

Your vision blurred at the edges. 

Then he loosened his grip. Not releasing you. Just enough to let you breathe. “But,” he continued, calmer now, “I am willing to offer you something.”

You sucked in a breath, your hand instinctively grasping at his wrist. “What…?” your voice came out softer than you intended.

“We must rebuild. Lead. Be an example to the others.” His eyes locked onto yours. “And for that… I have a proposition.”

“What is it?”

A slow smirk spread across his face, this time unmistakable. “I have been observing you,” he admitted. “Watching. Learning. You chose a mate, a human named James.” His tone turned almost disdainful. “Pathetic. Weak. An insult to someone of your capabilities.”

Your stomach dropped.

“I will not allow the remaining Viltrumites to dilute our bloodline with worthless specimens like him,” he continued. “We are rebuilding an empire, not dragging it into ruin. You will set the example. You will show them what to seek in a mate.”

Your heart pounded.

“What?!” Your voice broke, sharp and disbelieving. “Have you completely lost your mind?!”

“I could kill you now,” he said flatly. “Rip your head from your body. Crush your throat in an instant. You are still weak. You cannot defeat me like this.” His gaze hardened. “But I am offering you mercy. A choice.”

A bitter pause.

“One you never gave us.”

Your thoughts spiraled. He was right. You couldn’t fight him, not like this. Not with your body still recovering, your strength uneven, your hand barely healed. 

And he wasn’t wrong about the rest. You had followed Thaedus and your father, helped destroy Viltrum without thinking about what came after. Where they would go. What they would do. You had pushed them to Earth.

Your chest tightened.

Damn it. 

Damn your choices. Your impulsiveness. Your need to end the war without considering the aftermath.

“What… did you have in mind?” you finally asked, your voice trembling as tears slipped down.

Something softened in his expression—unnatural. Unsettling. He reached out, brushing the tears from your cheek with his thumb. Then, without warning, he lifted you. Placing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

He turned, walking out of the office.

A new set of doors slid open with a soft shhfft as he carried you deeper into the ship.

Into a bedroom.

🕊️ 🕊️ 🕊️

He threw you onto a soft surface, his bed.

The sheets were smooth; cool satin in a muted grey, the fabric shifting beneath as your body sank into it.

Not giving you time to react he settled between your legs, on top.

“We will restore the Empire,” he murmured, his voice low, unwavering. “Argall’s legacy will continue… through our sacrifice, through us." 

It felt like an unscratchable itch. The outline of his covered manhood brushed against your clothed sex, causing an ache that refused to be ignored.  

The weight of him pressed you deeper into the mattress, overwhelming, suffocating in the way only he could be. Every inch of him radiated control, purpose. There was no hesitation in him. No doubt.

Your hands instinctively came up to his chest, fingers pressing against the hard planes of his muscled pectorals beneath your palms. Solid. Unmoving. You tried to ground yourself better, to steady the sudden heat blooming under your skin, to push him away, but he didn’t move.

Instead, he leaned closer. Closer than before. His presence swallowed yours whole, his breath ghosting along your neck as if committing you to memory. "No," he murmured as he drew nearer, one arm resting next to the cushion your head was on and the other moving down to your underwear, carefully peeling it off. 

Your breath hitched as his hand moved—slow, deliberate, unhurried in a way that made your chest tighten. He took his time, as if nothing in the universe could interrupt him, as if you were already his to claim. And maybe, in his mind you already were.

You cursed yourself. For the oversized shirt. For the way you had rushed out without thinking, without preparing. Meeting him exactly as you were, unguarded. Vulnerable.

He stripped away that last barrier of clothing with quiet efficiency, discarding it as though it had never mattered. Getting to work immediately he gave you no time to prepare as he slid himself inside your folds. You gave out an agonizing whine. 

There was no tenderness in the way he thrusted in—no softness, no gentle reassurance. For you, this kind of closeness had always meant something else: trust, intimacy, something shared in love. For him… it was a purpose, duty; Something instinctive, stripped of emotion. Yet heavier because of it.

The moment tightened, stretched thin until it almost snapped. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up—heat pooling low, unfamiliar, unwelcome, impossible to ignore.

“Wait—” your voice faltered, breath uneven, “you’re—”

Too much. Too close. Too overwhelming.

Thragg weighed around 200 or 300 pounds of sheer muscle, and his lenght didn't fail to lived up to expectations. He felt approximately six or seven inches when he was fully sheeted inside of you. The sensation of him dragging his cock inside your gummy walls made it difficult to tell. 

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow. Only adjusted, as if your resistance was nothing more than a variable to account for.

“Too tight,” he muttered under his breath, more observation than complaint.

“You’re too big,” you shot back, your voice breaking despite yourself.

He ignored you. Of course he did.

And then something shifted. A rhythm.

His thrusts became violent poundings, his breathing became more labored, and he periodically let out low groans that he couldn't contain. Not gentle, never gentle. But controlled. Measured in its own way. Your body tensed against him at first, resisting, struggling to keep up with the intensity of his presence, the overwhelming closeness of it all.

He abruptly drove back inside, finding that soft spot, which caused your toes to curl. He gasped in surprise, letting out a loud groan as you clenched hard around him.

"There," you cried, losing yourself in the pleasure you were experiencing, resting your hands on his back.

His reaction was immediate.

Your hands found his shoulders, gripping tighter—not pushing him away, but holding on. Anchoring yourself as sensation built, unfamiliar and overwhelming, coiling tighter and tighter.

Your breathing quickened as the world narrowed. Reduced to heat, to pressure, to the unbearable awareness of him.

And then you moved. Not away but with him. Your legs pulled him closer, instinct overriding thought, your body responding in a way your mind hadn’t yet processed.

A low sound escaped him; unexpected, unguarded.

“Fuuuck—” His dick twitched aggressively inside. For the first time, something in him cracked. Something dangerous.

The tension had snapped.

Everything unraveled at once, your body tightening around him, your cunt clenching harder on his cock, the grip on him sharpening as sensation crested and the coil snapped, leaving you breathless, trembling beneath him as you came. 

With one final thrust and a low, strained moan, Thragg spilled his release inside you.

He stilled only for a second, breathing sharply. The control he carried slipped just enough to betray the intensity of the moment.

You barely had time to recover.

“We’re not done.” His voice was steadier now but heavier. He shifted you easily, positioning you with deliberate intent into a mating press. Your legs resting on top of his shoulders. 

Your body protested from exhaustion, but he didn’t care. 

Still covered in sticky fluids, his tip glided easily across your entrance.

He hammered his way back inside without waiting another second. Falling back in after pulling out. Your body still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

You held on him tightly, loud moans coming out as your nails dragged across his back. 

Then an idea. 

Before you could think, before doubt could catch up, you pushed back. Turned the balance, enough to surprise him. Enough to make him pause for the first time.

You took the lead as your hips sank down on him, moving at your own rhythm. Uncertain at first, then firmer, guided by instinct rather than thought. 

And Thragg…

Thragg reacted.

A sharp intake of breath.

His hands came to your hips, steadying you, guiding but not stopping. His gaze locked onto you, something unreadable flickering behind it. This wasn’t just control anymore. This was something else. Something he wasn’t meant to feel. Something he shouldn’t be allowing.

And yet he didn’t stop it ...not for today at least. 

The tension built again, faster this time, tighter. "I’m about to—" Your walls tightened, attempting to milk him again. Hands bracing against his chest, your movements sharper, more desperate, until your body gave in once more. The sensation crashing through, leaving you trembling as your strength gave out, his erection quivering as he filled you with his warm cum one more time.

You collapsed forward, your weight falling against him, breath uneven, limbs heavy. Neither of you moved. Just the sound of heavy breathing and scent of sex lingering in the air. 

Your eyes fluttered, exhaustion finally dragging you down.

Then his voice broke through—low, almost thoughtful. “Before I forget… do not concern yourself with your former mate.”

Your heart skipped.

“He will not trouble you again. Consider it… a gift.”

Something cold settled in your chest, but you were too tired to care. Too drained to question it.

Your eyes closed.

And this time you didn’t fight the sleep.

🕊️ 🕊️ 🕊️

You woke slowly, your body tangled in soft blankets that still held the warmth of the night before. For a minute, everything felt distant; your vision still blurred, the mind sluggish, caught somewhere between sleep and awareness. Then it cleared.

You were still in his room.

The space felt… different without him there. Quieter. Colder, despite the lingering warmth pressed into the sheets beneath you. Your body ached as you shifted, every movement reminding you of everything that had happened. Your limbs felt heavy, unfamiliar, like they didn’t quite belong to you yet.

He was gone.

That realization settled deeper than you expected.

You pushed yourself up slowly, muscles protesting immediately, legs trembled the moment they touched the floor, barely able to support your weight as you stood. Steadying yourself against the edge of the bed, breathing through the weakness, forcing your body to cooperate.

Your clothes were scattered nearby, carelessly discarded. Gathering them quickly, fingers fumbling slightly as you dressed, movements rushed, not out of urgency alone but something else. Something restless sitting beneath your ribs.

You couldn’t stay here. Not a second longer.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss as you slipped out into the corridor, immediately alert. The halls stretched long and cold, unfamiliar and hostile. You kept close to the walls, moving carefully, listening for any sign of movement.

Viltrumites.

Feeling them even when you couldn’t see them; patrolling, guarding, watching. You avoided them instinctively, slipping past intersections, timing your steps between their movements. Every second felt stretched, fragile, like one wrong move would shatter everything.

Your heart pounded louder with each step.

Down the corridors. Past the upper levels. Deeper, until finally the lower sections of the ship, where the exit awaited.

The doors loomed ahead, massive and silent. For a moment, you hesitated—just a fraction of a second—before pushing forward.

The atmosphere hit you instantly as you descended, the cold vastness of space giving way to the familiar pull of Earth below. The wind rushed past you as you fell, then flew, your body remembering what to do even if it still ached with every movement.

Home at last. 

Thragg sat alone in his office, the faint glow of the new reports reflecting across his face as he read through them again. Slowly, deliberately, as if repetition might somehow change what was written there.

It didn’t.

Lucan. Anissa. Kregg. Even Thula.

All of them, failing.

Little progress. No meaningful results. Just fragments of effort that amounted to nothing. It was… infuriating. Not in the explosive, violent way he was used to, but something quieter. Heavier. A persistent pressure behind his eyes that settled into a dull, throbbing headache.

Disappointing.

He exhaled slowly, setting the report down against his desk with controlled restraint. This was not how the Empire rebuilt itself.

Without another thought, he sent the command—brief, direct, unquestionable. All of them were to return to the Viltrumite ship within the hour. There would be explanations. There would be consequences.

Silence settled again.

Then a sharp knock broke through it. Loud. Echoing against the cold metal walls of his office.

“Come in,” Thragg said, his voice calm.

The door slid open, and a Viltrumite stepped inside, posture rigid, careful. “Sire, forgive the interruption. This is… urgent.” He cleared his throat, as if choosing his words carefully. “The woman you instructed us to monitor… she has left the ship. Not long ago.”

Thragg closed his eyes briefly.

Another problem, another failure.

A quiet sigh slipped past his lips, less anger now, more exhaustion. The kind that came from constant disappointment rather than resistance.

“Ensure she is not lost again,” he said, his tone even, controlled. “A tracker was implanted on the nape of her neck. Her location is known at all times.”

He leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze distant but sharp.

“Continue observation. Monitor her condition closely. Any changes—physical, behavioral, anything at all, you report it to me immediately.” His voice lowered, carrying a quiet weight. “Nothing is insignificant.”

“Yes, sire.”

The Viltrumite bowed his head, then turned and left as quickly as he had entered. The door slid shut behind him.

And once again Thragg was alone.

The silence returned, heavier than before.

He remained still long after the door closed, the silence settling deep into the room. His gaze drifted. Not to the reports, not to the mission, but somewhere far beyond it.

She left.

A faint exhale left him, quieter this time.

“It changes nothing,” he murmured to himself, though the words felt less certain than before. Still… his eyes sharpened again. 

“Run if you wish.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, something unreadable flickering there.

“I will find you.”

Dividers by: @\bhavihelps