In an alternate ending of Network Effect, Three avenges the death of its sibling units.
[ID: two digital drawings. The first one shows an action shot of Three grabbing Murderbot by the neck and shoving its weapon into Murderbot’s face. In the second drawing, Three carries Murderbot’s body back to ART. /end ID]
Genre: Smut & Angst Notes: And so it ends Warnings:18+, dubcon, alcohol consumption, smoking, gun stand off, major character death, mentioned violence against the reader, domestic abuse, graphic description of murder, vaginal sex, creampie, collaring. Words:3.2k
Shuuji Hanma has never been a man to feel fear in his life. When others find themselves feeling alert and on edge, Hanma can do nought but laugh. But since leaving your place… The home that you share with your fiancé, his boss, he believes this may be the closest to panic he’s ever felt. In fact, he’d go as far as to admit he’s a little scared. Kisaki is a crazy fuck, like him. And also not to dissimilarly to Hanma, he’s calculated. He imagines that Kisaki has already gone out of his way to contact his subordinates and alert them of Hanma’s treachery. Hanma is brave, in the sense that he can stay in his penthouse like he didn’treveal he’d been fucking his precious fiancé behind his back. He supposes you were right about one thing.
Shuuji Hanma is a dead man walking.
He’s been sipping his favourite whiskey since the minute he got home. But he isn’t stupid, he needs his wits about him, after all. He’s been nursing the same drink for a longwhile. He needs to consider himself. His next course of action. What has happened. What willhappen. You entering his life after so long was an unexpected cog in his well oiled machine of existence. It had been so long since he’d thought about his favourite slut. His toy. He still can’t believe that he managed to forget you at all.
How could he forget someone he spent so long going out of his way to torment? Someone he forcedto give her virginity to him. He was clumsy then, he’s sure you’ll agree. He had a little experience, more than most, so he knew what he was doing with you. But now, he is matured, he is a man. Despite the fact he sees women as devices to give himpleasure, he knows exactly how to please. And although it’s been so long since he played with your body, it is simply unforgettable. It is his.He’ll touch you just right and make you come undone with so little effort you’ll have barely taken a breath.
Is that why you run to him?
Is that why you’re back in his life?
Because you’re his,aren’t you? You won’t forget something so important like that. You’re always going to be his girl. Hanma’s Toy. It’s engraved in your flesh for that exact reason. But even without that permanent, black, ink. How could you forget someone you gave your virginity too? How could you forget all of the things he did and made you do? You couldn’t. You can’t. Even at such a young age, you wonder if he knew what he was doing. If he wanted to scar you so vehemently that you’d never be able to erase him from the recesses of your mind.
You’re his.
No one else’s.
His.
“Open the door, Hanma.”
It’s familiar. Why wouldn’t he recognise the voice of a man he’s been thick as thieves with for over a decade? With a cigar latched between his lips and his gun in his hands, he stands perfectly adjacent to the front door of his penthouse and points the weapon at the entrance. He has no doubt in his mind that Kisaki has brought an army with him to snuff him out and put an end to the memorable and insufferable Shuuji Hanma.
“It’s open, Tetta.” he responds. The use of his forename enrages Kisaki, a clear snub of his superiority and a lack of respect from Hanma.
He opens the door slowly… slowly… slowly… until they’re face to face with each other. And it’s unbelievable, but somehow, they manage to laugh. Kisaki is pointing his gun at Hanma, and Hanma’s is pointing right back. And for some reason, it’s so fuckingamusing.How did things get like this? At one point or another, Kisaki would have trusted Hanma more than anyone else in the world. Even you. Fuck. You.
“Don’t tell me you came alone.” Hanma queries, refusing to let his guard down but still managing to take a tactical puff of his cigar.
“I did, believe it or not. I’m a reasonable man. Some might say, smart,”
“First I’m hearing about that.” Hanma jokes, earning a snicker from his former friend.
“I figure there’s history. And a simple explanation mightjust clear this all up. So, I haven’t told a damn soul about this. Pour me a drink.” Kisaki speaks and demands as he tilts his head and his gun in the direction of the tumbler of whiskey standing alone at Hanma’s lonely dining table.
“For real?”
“We’ll drink, and I’ll listen to what you have to say. And thenI’ll blow your fucking head off for touching my little wifey.” he talks, calmly. The final sentence sounds like a joke, but his eyes are telling another story. He’s serious, deadly so.
Hanma clears his throat, refusing to lower his gun as he walks closer to the bottle of whiskey. He grabs an extra tumbler, pouring the bronze liquid into the glass while keeping his eyes and gun focused on his boss. Kisaki enters the penthouse, using his foot to close the door behind him.
It’s almost comical, really, how neither of the men refuse to put away their weapons. Even while sitting so close to each other. Their legs spread, a show of dominance, like men do, as they sit and find the most comfortable positions in their seats. It’s almost like a silent contest to display who needs more leg room, which of them has the biggest cock and balls.
It’s Hanma.
Their gun holding arms turn to jelly as they enjoy their drinks. Resting the cool metal killing devices on their legs as they casually sip and slurp as if they’re indulging in last orders at a bar with close friends. A memory they’ve shared more times than they can count. Butthisis nothing like that complacent, relaxing vibe. This is tense.
“She’s missing, now. Have you, uh, seen her?” Kisaki queries.
“No. Why would I have? Doesn’t she have friends?” Hanma responds, calmly. Kisaki studies his eyes. Enough years in this line of work, and you can spot a liar with genuine ease. So, he stares and stares.
“Iknowshe’s here, Hanma.”
Hanma takes another swig of his drink, clearing off the last remaining drops before pouring another for himself. But he shakes his head, adamant he has no idea what he’s referring to.
“You wanted to talk about her, you said. So, what went down after I left?” Hanma asks, a question he’s been dying to know after he fled. He has never felt guilt before. He thinks he might be a sociopath, most days. Or else he wouldn’t have put youthrough everything he did in the past. And yet, for the first time maybeever, he felt bad for leaving you with him tonight. He turned your world upside down and threw you to the wolves. It was too much like the old him. A him he isn’t ashamed of, but he likes to think he is at least a littlebetter than. So, he had to ask. What happened?
“Well. I was mad, you get that, right? It’s understandable, I mean—”
“Did you damage mytoy, Kisaki?”
“Notyours,mine.But, yeah, so fucking what? I beat her black and blue. What sane man wouldn’t?” Kisaki questions. Hanma slams his glass down on the table, earning an explosive laugh from his boss. “Come the fuckon. I loved her, y’know? Spent a fortune on her. Gave her everything.Only for her to cheat with… you. Thought she was my princess, my forever.”
“No one will love her like I can. I’ve loved her since the day I set eyes on her as a kid. So, I’ll tell youone more time. Mytoy.Myprincess.Myforever. I’ll find her and fuck her into the shape of my cock because she is mine.And my name is on her forever, to prove it.” Hanma monologues, it’s relaxed and pointed. Kisaki retains each and every word. An indescribable rage sears through him and he realises he’ll never have what you have with Hanma. History.But that fucking mark.It can be removed. It can be changed. He’s signed his name into your skin tonight in the form of blooming blue and purple blooms. It’s just a shame they aren’t permanent.
“You have to die, that’s a given. Yeah?” Kisaki chuckles, and even Hanma smiles.
“If you think you can kill me. If you thinkI will let that happen. Sure.”
“It’s a matter of pride, man. I loved… loveher. And she ismine, no matter what you say or think. But what she did, I’ll never forgive. I’ll spend the rest of my life making her pay for it.”
“You won’t see her again for the rest of your life, Tetta. Only one of us is getting out of this penthouse alive and I intend on making sure it’s me.”
“She humiliated me. With you.I’m all for happy endings but not at the cost of my own. I can’t lose her to you, man, I can’t.” he tells him, a tone of finality filling his words. Hanma shakes his head, again. In his eyes, he has no choice.
“Do you know I took her purity from her? Even if I die, she’ll never forget me for the simple fact I took her virginity. You don’t forget your first. And, you’ll never be able to love her like I can. Like I do.You’ll have to kill me to stop me from claiming my toy back, but like I said, I have no intention of letting that happen.”
You wonder if it’s the sociopath in him. He’s thankful that Kisaki was looking at his drink when Hanma’s eyes widened, ever so slightly. His heart rate quickened, the organ was pounding as he tried to keep a neutral, poker face. He managed to steady the tremoring of his fingers as he tried to pretend nothing was happening behind Tetta Kisaki. Crossing one leg over the other as he smiled and drank his whiskey in such a nonchalant manner. It roused Kisaki’s suspicion to see Hanma become his usual, cocky self.
Bang.
That cocky, trademark smirk wiped off of Hanma’s face in an instant. Instead, he donned an unimpressed, almost boredthin lipped expression as the blood of your ex-fiancé spattered across his face. He smacked his lips together, attempting to discover whether he could taste copper on his tongue as he paid no mind to your former partners body slump out of his chair and collide with the ground.
You were a coward for killing him like that. His back to you and no way to defend himself. You got him right in the back of his head, and you could only assume there was an exit wound somewhere close to between his eyes as it pissed blood and puddled around his body and seeped into his expensive Louis Vuitton suit.
“S-Shuuji…” you whimpered.
“Shush.” he demanded, getting up from his seat and tutting you into a stunned silence. You murdered someone. Fuck.You, a regular fucking person, killed Tetta Kisaki. Hanma grabbed your shoulders, firmly, kissing your forehead and forcing you to look him in the eye as he spoke to you. “You did the right thing, baby.” he assures you.
“I…killedsomeo-no.Killing is… it’s neverthe right thing!” you feel like you are screaming but in reality your voice has almost died in your throat as you try and articulate your conflicting feelings. He would have probably killed youfirst. You thought he was going to, tonight. Hanma did some terrible things to you but he neverbeat you. You’ve never felt so sore, so pained. And yet so lucky to be alive. And Hanma, fuck, you can’t believe this is reallyHanma. His touches are so tender and delicate. So sweet.He knows you’re hurting. He could see it in the bruises when you first stumbled into his home, yes, but he could predominantly see it in your eyes.
“Bastard deserved it and then some for doing this to you.” he states, you try to shake your head but you can’t. He stills your skull with two large palms, once again forcing you to look into his drowsy, golden eyes. “I’m a real piece of shit, but even I wouldn’t lay a hand on a woman. How could he hurt someone as precious as you?”
“I’m a murderer, Shuuji I can’t, I—”
“He didn’t tell anyone he was coming here. No one will know about this internal struggle. You know what that means? I’ll be taking over Kisaki’s role in the company. You’re mine, again, and everything is gonna be fine.”
“I don’t know…” you sigh, obvious concern in your voice. But again, he tuts, a feeble attempt of dismissing the worry from your body.
“Come.” he demands. “Into the shower, wanna wash this prick off us before I make arrangements to move him.”
“S-Shuuji, please. Please be—”
“I know, baby, I know.”
It is the most glamorous shower you’ve ever seen and will ever hope to see. The shower head is attached to the ceiling and you both fit inside with plenty of space surrounding you still. There’s even a small bench, made out of the same marble material as the walls you are standing inside of. Of course the door is glass, fogged completely with steam from the boiling shower as well as your rising body heats.
He sits, peacefully, allowing you to stand alone under the shower as you cleanse your naked, shaken body. You can’t help but giggle when you see his cock standing to full attention as he ogles you lathering your body in shower gel and allowing the water to cascade down your body.
You’d never of expected him to sit so patiently like this while he has you as his.You are officiallyhis property and he isn’t doing anything about it.
Or so you thought.
The nice guy act soon wore thin, and you found yourself shoved against the glass door. You struggled, slightly, your bruises aching the further he forced himself into you and against the glass.
“H-Hurts, Shuuji, it, ah—!”
“Can’twaitanymore.” he informs you as he guides his cock head to your sodden cunt. “Need to make you mine again.” he tells you.
And with that, you realise this isn’t going to be about you. He knows how to fuck you. How to make you cum. And yet, he won’t. His priority is himself. Filling you to the brim with his cum and marking your insides officiallyas his.
“Always had such a tight little pussy, haven’t you? All mine. All fucking mine.” he practically growls in your ear as he begins to slam up into you.
“P-Please, Hanma. Slower! Slow…” you beg, pathetically silent it’s almost drowned out by the pelting drops of water cascading against the ground. A simple ‘tsk’leaves his lips as he kisses your cheek and reaches around to fondle your clit.
“Wish I could kill him twice for making you so sore.” he hums as he allows his fingers to dance lightly across your battered skin. But it doesn’t stop him from pummelling against your body, if anything, he’s fucking into your sweet spot harder. He’s moaning, grunting, gaspingalmost, as he approaches his doom. He’s quick. He could easily lie and say it’s for your benefit, which it is. But it’s for him. The sooner your insides are painted white, the better. “Oh – fuck – ‘m cummin’, Christ‘m cummin’ baby.”
And you feel it, Godyou feel it because he shoots his load directly into your womb, you think. They’re silent thoughts, but he’s already thinking about you carrying his child. He always pictured three or four with you. Three boys that give the two of you hell and one girl he worships with everything he has. Not now, he hopes. With your mental state so fragile and everything so new.
His cum dribbles down your legs. But the minute you step under the shower, it’s being carried down the plughole by the current.
Definitely not now.
He abandons you, a towel wrapped around his waist as he heads towards his bedroom. You find a towel for your body as well as your hair, doing your best to chase after him without slipping and falling in the process. He’s rummaging around in his drawers desperately searching for something. He looks back at you, briefly, as you enter, and then back again with more focus as he takes in what he’s seeing.
“Towel off sweetheart. No hiding your body from me, wanna see every inch.” he instructs. You do as you’re told, unwrapping the white, fluffy towel from your body and exposing your skin to the freezing, air-conditioned room.
“What are you doing?” you wonder, sitting on the edge on his bed eagerly as you wait from him to come over to you.
Finally, he finds what it is he’s looking for. “Stand up.” he tells you, hiding whatever it is behind his back. Once again, you comply, watching him come closer to you and sit himself down. “Sit on me.” he demands. You straddle him. He kisses each and every inch of your body within his reach. He smooths his hand over the sickening blue blotches delivered to your skin by Tetta. You gasp, erotically, as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth as sucks sweetly.
“Shuuji…” you moan, losing yourself to his touch. “What’s behind your back?”
“Somethin’ very special, it’s old but looks like new.” he smiles into your body. “I got you it years ago, didn’t get the chance to give you it.”
“I wanna see.”
He reaches behind his back. And it’s odd, the look in his eye is almost hesitant. Like he doesn’t wantto give it to you. He isn’t sure of himself. Is he worried that you won’t like it? But, your pleading gaze wins him over.
“I… I want to hate it, but I don’t. I, I love it.” you giggle. It’s a collar. A beautifulpink collar with your name engraved on the silver bone. “Oh God, I really love it.”
“There’s a leash too.” Hanma laughs. He raises it to put it around your neck, and you find yourself letting him with not a single complaint. Maybe you’re in a state of unknowing because of what you did to Kisaki. Nothing matters and nothing feels real. But for whatever reason. You are obsessedwith this new accessory. And it’s sick, because it feels romantic. In days gone by, you were known as nothing to him other than Hanma’s toy. But this… has your fucking name on it.
“Fuck. Hanma… ‘m really yours, aren’t I? Always been yours.”
18+, dubcon, alcohol consumption, smoking, gun stand off, major character death, mentioned violence against the reader, domestic abuse, graphic description of murder, vaginal sex, creampie, collaring.
We did it! Another year, another whumptober complete! It’s totally flown by, andwe managed to do it without either of us ending up in the hospital (a definite win, by our standards). See under the cut for the full list of prompts and links to each post :)
Blood. There was blood everywhere. Fao had never seen so much in his whole life. It covered his gloved hands, soaked into his combats, blurring the desert khaki.
The smell of it haunted him, filled his nose and choked him. The coppery, metallic scent. It had never bothered him, but it did now. He looked up at her, and the blood was matted into her blonde hair, staining the precious gold a dark crimson.
He fought to save her, speaking in soothing Gaelic to the woman he loved as he barked orders to the men and women around him.
She stirred, green eyes flickering open.
“F-Fao… A-am I gonna b-be okay?”
It broke his heart, to see her scared. Alex was never scared.
“Yeah sweetie, you’re gonna be just fine. You’re gonna go home and we’re gonna buy that big house you always wanted and I’m gonna marry you. Promise. I’ll let you pick the ring yourself.“
There was nothing he could do, as her eyes shut and her heartbeat stuttered and faded to asystole. He cried out, then, starting CPR even though he knew she was a lost cause.
“Let her go, Fao.” Someone called, though Fao didn’t know who. He couldn’t let go, couldn’t watch her fade away.
“No! I can’t!” He cried. He didn’t even know how long it had been. He kept up with the CPR, struggling. His shoulders ached and his hair was in his face- he needed a haircut. He wiped his bloody hands on his trousers and tried again. He kept going, though Alex’s lips were parted and chapped and there was a trickle of crimson over the dry chapped skin.
He felt strong arms on his shoulders, pulling him away from her. He fought it, but they dragged him away. He fought and he cried and he clawed at them, but still they dragged him away.
They let him into his tent, and left him crying on his camp bed, covered in his girlfriend’s blood. He staggered to the showers, stripped off his combats and stood under the lukewarm water, trying to scrub the blood off. He was crying, sobbing as he tried to get it all off. It clung to him, the smell still choking him. He gagged and then was sick, doubled over under the water. When he was done, he shut off the water, changed into something to sleep in and curled up on his camp bed. His commanding officer came in after a while, and told him that he was on leave effective immediately. They’d send him home as soon as they could, so he could make arrangements for her funeral.
He said he’d deliver the news to Alex’s parents himself. It had to be him, in person.
He couldn’t sleep, after that. Whichever way he laid just felt wrong, so in the end he gave up. He dressed, padded outside, and sat staring up at the stars with a cigarette.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there for, long enough that the cold seeped into his bones. He’d forgotten how cold the desert got at night.
Eventually he found his phone, and managed to get his fingers to cooperate enough to call Sheila.
He held his breath as the phone rang, waiting for her to pick up. He knew it was late for them too, she’d likely be asleep. But he needed his mum. He needed her now more than ever.
Sheila answered, half asleep but panicking as she saw it was Fao. "Hello?”
“Mumaí…”
She sat up immediately, something in his tone sending dread through her. “What’s happened, sweetheart? I’m here.”
He was quiet for a minute, trying to find the words to tell her. She was just as much Sheila’s daughter as she was Fao’s other half. He sniffed, taking a deep breath.
“It’s ‘Lex.”
She let out a quiet gasp. “Fao.”
“She’s…”
He didn’t have to say it. She could already tell. “I’m so sorry, Fao.”
His voice cracked. “She’s gone.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
He couldn’t help but start to cry again, sobs wracking his body. “She’s gone, Mumaí. Gone.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She was stuck, and gently shook Fred awake. “I’m right here.”
“‘m comin’ home.” He said softly. “Soon.”
“Of course, you’ve got to. We’ll be here, you can stay with us.”
Fred squinted at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Alex.”
“Need to… Need to tell her parents.” He managed to get out.
“Do you want to call them now?”
“No. Gonna… Gonna go see them. ‘ave to tell them in person.”
“Of course.”
He took a shaky breath, trying to pull himself together. “I miss her already.”
Sheila curled into Fred. “I know.”
“I don’t know how to…”
“Just hold on. For us. For Alex. She’d want you to.”
“Be home soon.” He said, and paused. “Zeus!” Alex’s dog would be so confused.
“He’ll have you. You’ll be okay. You both will.”
He stayed on the phone with her for a long time, mostly just sat sniffling in silence. But it was nice to know she was there, to hear her soothing him every so often.
Soon they sorted getting him back to England, and the plane journey home was agony. Even more so, knowing Alex’s body was in the hold beneath him.
He spent the whole trip curled up in his seat, trying to read but instead just staring blankly at his book. Once they landed, he dragged himself through the airport and into the coach that would take him home. To the flat he’d shared with Alex. Her stuff was everywhere, strewn across the bedroom haphazardly, as they’d packed to go away.
Unbidden, he started to cry.
He sat on the edge of the bed and sobbed. After a while, he couldn’t cry anymore, and he got up, sniffling as he tidied all of Alex’s things. Once he was done, he had a shower, smoked a cigarette and went to bed. He didn’t want to move, but he owed it to Rob, and to Helen.
It was painful to tell them, but it needed to be done. He felt better for saying it, too. Glad knowing it had been him to break the news to them, not some faceless officer they didn’t know. And they comforted him too. Helen hugged him and told him he’d always be a part of their family.
Back at home, he stripped off his dress uniform, pulled on some pyjamas and crawled into bed. He didn’t move for a week, save to go to the bathroom and to eat. Not that he ate much. Plain slices of bread, mostly. He smoked in bed, too, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Without her, there was no meaning to his life. It was an echo of those days after Finn’s accident, the complete loss of everything. The numbness, the apathy. It was like nothing in the world existed.
Sheila had tried to call in on him every day, but she was pushed away. Fred, too, was ignored, and Finn had been in no fit state to leave the house. Fred eventually convinced Sheila to give their eldest some space, but only after Fao had promised that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. They trusted him, and knew he had to grieve, one way or another. There was no right or wrong way, and Sheila wasn’t going to force him.
After a painful week, Fao heard a key in his door, then the creak of the hinges as it opened.
“Fao?” Came a voice, calling out into the dark flat. It was Tom, he thought. He rolled onto his front, not in the mood to talk to them. He heard his bedroom door open, but he still didn’t move. That was when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he finally rolled over onto his back.
“Fuck off.”
“Fao.” That wasn’t Tom. It was Jake. He blinked open his eyes, and they were all there. Connor, Matt, Jake and Tom. The whole squad, except for Alex.
“We thought you’d need a hand. Sheila said she’d not heard from you in too long. We’re here, and we want to plan the funeral. With you.” Connor said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, so go and have a shower, and we’ll make you tea, then we’re going to sort this. All of us.” Matt told him, pulling the duvet back.
Fao didn’t have a choice. He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, hissing as the hot water ran over the raised red scabs covering his forearms and thighs. He felt mildly better after he’d showered, and all of them headed to meet. Alex’s parents, Sheila too (Fred was at home, and whilst Sheila didn’t tell him why, Fao knew it was because of Finn), Alex’s brother, the rest of the squad.
They planned the funeral, piece by painful piece, and before Fao knew it, the day loomed.
The day before, he’d had his hair cut, and that morning he showered and shaved before pulling on his dress uniform, determined to make sure everything was perfect. The five of them in the squad, and Alex’s brother - an officer in the Air Force, carried the coffin into the church. They’d elected to keep it quite small, with only a few friends and close family. The coffin felt infinitely heavy. He couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he strode down the aisle of the little church, silently crying. He could hear the rest of his squad and Mark too, sniffing to themselves as they set the coffin down, saluted and then turned away, taking their seats. Fao sat with the family, surrounded by people he knew so well.
He surprised himself by getting through the eulogy he’d written, his voice only cracking and faltering on him once. He was glad he managed, glad he was able to give his girlfriend the send off she deserved.
He went back to Fred and Sheila’s afterwards, Fred bundling him in the car and saying something about it being too late to drive back to Birmingham. Zeus was already staying with them for now, an extra couple of days wouldn’t make any difference at all. They knew he needed his space, they had to at least try and trust him. The current state of Finn’s physical and mental health wouldn’t make things any easier, but they could have one night.
He sat on the back step of the house and smoked, lost track of how many he’d had. He needed the isolation, the distance from the rest of the family. It was well and truly dark, but as he sat out back he saw a fox trot through the garden, looking skinny but unafraid. It made him smile, despite everything, and he thought perhaps there was a piece of Alex still looking out for him. Looking out for all of them.
