[Tordtom stories I stopped working on]

BBR: Rewritten

Pronounced as: Dit-t-t-uwj-s-ji-ji-ji-ji-guh

Premise is now where Tord is successful in taking over the world and he creates a Tom clone, that will go back in time to convince present past Tom to work for him willingly so dire measures won't have to take place.

Aka: the baby bride rag rewrite
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Act I: Frankenstein of bad ideas

Quick-witted, sharp talker, intelligent and articulate; Tord blindly reminisced as the smoke emitting from his cigar slowly fill the room.

There was a certain pull whenever he thinks about Tom, even the echo of his voice is akin to a siren as it calls out to the sailors nearby. He would talk about Lovecraftian horrors and obsession with death for weeks; Tord would be listening of course, staring into his eyes as his voice lulled Tord to an edge.

There was just something incredibly sexy with people that are smart, no matter the gender, as long as they know what they're talking about, it would be enough to make Tord cum gallons; his attraction is simply to anyone smart, if there was terminology for that then he'd be that.
Although he isn't just attracted to smart people, he's attracted to Tom, anyone that looks, acts, talks, thinks like Tom but not quite Tom. His friends calling him Tomsexual got old pretty quickly but there was no better way to put it.

Tord blew a puff from his cigar again, watching as a gray cloud blocked his vision. The sound of something heavy dropping on his desk made him jolt back to attentiveness, he twisted his swivel chair and saw the stack of folders on his desk.

"these are data that we had collected for the past six months about Tom"

Tord brushed the soldier away and picked a folder from the top, upon opening it he was greeted with a blurry photo of Tom laughing as he held a small bottle of smirnoff with a younger version of himself; this was back in college, when the two of them chilled at the back of a seven eleven sharing two bottles of smirnoff as celebration for finally finishing finals, this was also the time Tom talked to him about Cthulu.

A small USB was behind the picture, Tord inserted it into his laptop and played the only audio clip on it.

"and it was like so stupid there's this movie about HP Lovecraft and they watered it down so much, 'cus it's a kid film, and they made all the gods look like shit, with literal shit color scheme... "

Just hearing Tom talk about the inaccuracies of the movie in such a derogatory manner sent tingles throughout his body; he just wanted to grab the back of his head and make him smell the sweat of his dick as he lapped up precum to make him shut up.

Fuck, Tord felt so disgusting and dirty, he was a ruler of an empire yet he's cooped up in his office lusting over someone he used to know.

An idea suddenly popped into his head, a terrible and twisted idea.

Was this what Dr. Jekyll felt when he did such heinous things?

Tord felt so alive as he alchemised wicked creatures in his lab, the array of potions he created in inhumane environments glistened. Tord's breathing was shallow as he caressed the pale skin of the lover he accidentally killed.

He attached vials to the veins, watching as the tan of his skin suddenly returned. The beeping of the heart meter made Tord melt in joy, he held the now warm hand of his Sasha, his corpse bride and his very own Tom.

Finally, all those grave robbing aka unauthorised archeology was finally coming into fruition.

Now to make him completely subservient and obedient to him and him only. Tord flipped a switch on the visor and watched as the body on the table twitched while letting out whimpers, the screen started to flash a bright red, Tord's cackle filled the room completely drowning out the sound of screams.