Growing up in chaos isn't simple for all. Not many could cope. They would struggle and kick, but ultimately drown. However, for Dakota, that was his normality. Torturing. Maiming. Killing. That was his life, the life of a hunter. The Arizona line was elusive, written fame in the lore of hunters, and infamy for their prey. They were the best. No one could ever compare to their skills, their abilities, their ruthlessness. But Dakota was something else. His siblings might have learnt to enjoy the hunt, well most of them anyway, but Dakota didn't. There was always something missing for him, something he was waiting on. Silent and everlasting hope. A promise had been made to him, the day his twin brother was stolen, taken by the enemy, plucked right from the very home the Arizonas had grown up in. A promise of something better, something that he might actually want in his life. Now, almost sixteen years later, something was coming. A change was begging to be found. Maybe it would be for the best. Maybe Dakota would finally find that certain something that had been missing his whole life, something to fill the dark and fractured abyss that ached and wailed within. But nothing was ever that simple. Because, of course, the promise that had been made to Dakota would never be anything plausible for him, anything tangible to have and to hold. He had been promised a new life, by the greatest enemy of them all. It wouldn't be easy. Not with his family still clinging to his heels, the teachings of blood and violence burnt into his mind. No, leaving them behind wouldn't ever be easy. Then again, staying with them would only bring his inevitable death. Why not take the chance to die happy? After all, out of the ashes, a phoenix will rise...

Alex Shade is a dream-eater. A weak variety of incubus, dream-eaters need the energy from human dreams to survive. Alex has a special affinity for nightmares, but it makes his life a living hell: in order to absorb the energy, he has to experience the dream. He's learned to turn this to his advantage, though, and sells his services as a "nightmare doctor" to those whose sleep is tormented by the inventions of the unconscious mind. One day he's hired by a man whose dreams are worse than any he's encountered before, and Alex is torn between a desire to help and the need to preserve his own sanity. But when he's finally pushed into making a choice, he discovers that he may not have one, after all. - [Advisory/Warnings: This story contains strong language, some violence, and some sex. Rated Mature] - This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A homeless thief breaks into a house that has nothing worth stealing - except for the heart of a lonely man who is obsessed with time. ***** Blake has been living on the streets for his entire life. He never went to school, and never had a job, except for one: he is a thief, and a pretty good one at that. His new plan is to break into a rich house, steal everything he can, and move on. Everything goes well during the night of robbery right until he discovers the family secret: there is nothing worth stealing. Disappointed, he is ready to leave empty-handed, but then he stumbles on something he never thought he could possibly want, and moving on isn't an option anymore. Risking his freedom, he is now set to steal something from Time itself. || Gay || BxB || MxM || LGBT || Romance ||

Deri thinks it's always his fault. He makes mistakes and that's why Mason corrects him. He makes mistakes and Mason uses his fists to make sure he learns never to make the same mistakes again. But everything changed in November. Aizen never planned on moving into one of the building he owned. Deri barged into his life, into his apartment and just... never left. He never planned on being friends with Deri. He never planned on caring or falling for him. It all starts in November

"You're scared of me," he accused. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation kicking in, but I shook my head. "No, I'm scared your blood will stain my couch." He blinked a few times and then a shadow of a smile broke out on his face. "I'll buy you a new one." ... A wife who died a mysterious death and a "my way or the highway" attitude, Manolo Raymond was not to be trusted. Anyone with ties to the underworld knew that, which was why Wesley did what he could to stay out of the mafia prince's path. He had one goal: to finish paying off his debt to Manolo's older brother and then never see their faces again. However, his plans were thrown out the window when he returned home one night to find his house broken into and an injured Manolo Raymond bleeding on his couch, demanding refuge.

Even when it gets to be too much, don't jump.

"There's more to life then what they're showing you Dai, just get out and explore"

Ian Foley is not a good man. At least, that's what he thinks. He's on his way to Alaska, looking for something to save his soul. On the way, he runs into a boy in need of a savior-or at the very least, a friend. But appearances aren't everything they seem. The mysterious Sam has secrets of his own, and soon Ian realizes he's in well over his head, on a ride that's out of control. It might be just the opportunity Ian needs to prove he's changed, or it might the final thing that tips the scales towards his ultimate ruin. [This story is a spin-off of "Heart's Blood." It's a stand-alone, but if you want to understand the character back-ground, you should read Heart's Blood first.] --- Warnings/disclaimers: This story contains strong language and explicit sexual content. --- This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

"𝐈𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐀 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐧 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭...𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭." •MPREG•

When Alistair Melek gave his life to the sea, a various degree of things changed. For starters, his love for bloodshed was exemplified. Bolder. He was drawn to the clash of a sword, blood spiling below to floorboards, like a moth drawn to a flame. And this love was damned to spread through his crew as some treacherous disease, claiming any and all who joined. But he knew this was the price he'd pay. The price for the sea itself. So when his crew completes another standard loot and pillage from a merchant ship, he allows his men a bit of fun. He liked to give them an audience, rounding up those who didn't fall victim to the blade during battle, and forcing them to beg for their lives. To prove how much they really wanted to live. Alistair had ruled the sea for some years now. Killed thousands, maybe tens of thousands. Destroyed hundreds, maybe thousands of vessels. And yet, each feeble human was all the same. There was not one man he threatened that didn't beg for their lives with all they had in them when faced with the wrong end of the sword. Each feeble human was always the same. Or so he thought. And yet, he also thought that this would be one standard job. A treat for his men after a night of good work. But this particular survivor, the one with long white hair and dead looking eyes... He wasn't a merchant. He couldn't have been. More important, there was no hesitancy when Alistair asked the fairly built man whether he wanted to live, and the man replied with a simple no.