#foundation fanfiction

[anundyingfidelity]

NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII

Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.

Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.

Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).

Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.

Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘

GEN MASTERLIST!

I. BEYOND

The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.

Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.

"Finally, you're awake."

Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.

"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.

"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"

"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.

"I did not ask you for mercy."

"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.

"Who are you?"

"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.

"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.

"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."

He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.

"You're no match for me, woman."

"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.

His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"

So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.

"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."

With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.

"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.

You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.

"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."

"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.

"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."

"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"

You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"

The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.

After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.

You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.

"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.

"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."

He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.

"Are you from Korell?"

"The book gave it away, didn't it."

"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."

"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."

Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.

"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.

He laughed softly, going back to his reading.

"Thank you for the idea."

That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.

II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST

Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.

Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.

He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.

"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.

Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.

"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."

And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.

"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."

"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...

"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.

"What? No! I would never-"

"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.

"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."

You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.

"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.

"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.

"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.

"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.

"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."

"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.

"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"

You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.

Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.

III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW

According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.

However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.

"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.

"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."

"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."

"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...

"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.

"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."

Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.

"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."

"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.

"The seventeenth."

"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"

"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."

You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.

"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"

He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."

"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."

Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.

"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."

"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."

Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.

"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."

You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.

"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."

He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.

"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."

"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."

You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.

"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."

"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."

"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.

"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."

"You're not answering my question."

You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.

"I use this.”

"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.

"Smart. Yes, sort of."

Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."

"About that, uh, we can't."

He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"

He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.

"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."

Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.

There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.

"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.

"What?"

"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."

You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.

That was the first time you gave in to him completely.

IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED

You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.

"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."

The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.

"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.

He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.

His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.

"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.

"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."

"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.

After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.

The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.

"What's in your head?" you whispered.

Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.

"You."

A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.

You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.

"I won."

"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"

You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.

Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.

"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.

You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.

He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.

"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."

You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."

"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"

"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."

He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.

"And how is it?" he said.

"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."

"Does it hurt now?"

You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.

"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."

Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.

V. VOYAGE

It was the thirtieth day on the ship.

Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.

Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.

"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.

"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.

"You're worried."

"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."

Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.

"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.

"No!"

"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."

"Because now ending me is ending you too!"

Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.

"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."

"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know, a couple of days at last."

"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."

You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.

"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became

He nodded. "Yes, my love.”

Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.

He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.

You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.

Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.

You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.

"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.

He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.

You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.

"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."

He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.

Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.

He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.

"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."

You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.

You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.

"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.

He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.

He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.

You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.

"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.

He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.

Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.

"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."

He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.

"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."

"Thanks, Cleon."

Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.

When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.

"Did you-? Ah!"

The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.

"A black hole..."

"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.

"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."

After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.

"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.

"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.

"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.

"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."

He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.

"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”

[the-mpreg-guy]

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

[papiliomame]

( Chapter 11, Things That Bleed by @thingsthatbleedfic, @artistfingers, @ghostly-cabbage, @kkachis)

A little late because I was busy with other stuff but now that I've read the newest chapter... that was just wow... goosebumps everywhere! I couldn't think about anything else today so I immediately went to work on this concept animation of Danny with his ghostly wail, to get that out of my system.

I imagined that he had partially transformed and that you could catch a glimpse of his true form for a short time.

Amazing chapter the wait was really worth it!

[irenespring]

One month until the election...holy shit.

Okay, I'm just going to point out that Project 2025 proposes a sweeping ban of "pornography." So if you write or read smutty fanfiction, or want to protect access to sites like AO3 in general, vote for Harris.

[dontforcemetologin]

watercolour is unbearably annoying.

but heres a guy.

[wolveria]

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 52

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: "I couldn't let you die."

Chapter Warnings: Angst, blood, hurt/comfort

AO3

Spotify

Dull pain throbbed everywhere, attempting to coax you back to sleep, but you fought against it. The tangy smell of iron tickled your nostrils in an unpleasant way, and with Herculean effort, you forced your eyes open.

You were lying on your back, a blanket pulled over you and a pillow under your head. There was another blanket underneath you to shield you from the chill of the floor, but you didn’t recognize the storage room lined with shelves filled with sturdy metal boxes.

The lights were dim but steady—wherever you were must still have power. You tried to sit up and sensed something wrong as your stomach stretched strangely, tugging at your skin.

You were also naked. Your medical gown and leggings lay in a heap nearby, both stained with blood and the tarry blackness of 106’s layer. You lifted the blanket to gaze at your body, noting your skin was cleaned of blood and grime, but then you froze at the sight of your stomach.

Stitches lined your abdomen in rows, as if someone had pieced you back together. You gently touched the black thread and faintly recalled the impact of the bullets tearing through you, and of 049 lifting you into his arms before everything went dark.

049.

You lifted your head and spotted the dark space you’d missed before, mistaking the black shape for shadows.

049 sat hunched against the wall, his arms propped on bent knees. His breath came in and out in soft wheezes, the noise you’d mistaken for the AC trying to come back on.

He stared back when your eyes met, and there was a haunted look in their depths. You took in the rest of him, his gloves covered in dried blood, the satchel perched next to him with its clasps shut. He must have gotten his old bag while you’d been unconscious, and you were afraid how long that had been.

You were also afraid of what had put that look in his eyes.

“I…” He choked out the word, hesitant and fearful. You couldn’t remember ever hearing him like that. “I couldn’t… let you die.”

Every movement of your limbs was in protest, but that didn’t deter you from wrapping the blanket around your body and crawling the short distance into his lap with the last of your flagging strength. He caught you easily and pulled you the rest of the way, settling you on top of his thighs as he held you around the waist, careful of the injuries he’d stitched together.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled into the side of his neck, even though you had no idea if that was true. You didn’t know how many bullets he removed or how close you were to death, but that didn’t disturb you as much as how unsteady he was, his arms around you trembling. “We should… try to keep moving. I think I can walk.”

Walking seemed unthinkable at the moment, but you couldn’t stay. If you were caught, you and 049 would be separated again, and there was no way in hell you’d let that happen. Not after everything you’d done to get him back—

“I couldn’t let you die.” 049 trembled again, his voice small and lost. “I… couldn’t.”

“I know,” you said, trying not to let your own fear show. Something was wrong with him. He was spiraling. You leaned back far enough to look into his eyes, trying to get him to focus on you. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

The fear didn’t quite leave his gaze, but at least his breathing had slowed from the shallow wheezes.

“You cannot die,” he repeated a third time, but his voice held the steadfastness it was missing before. “For if you do, those around you meet the same fate.”

You opened your mouth and then closed it.

“That’s what you said to Puli in the interview,” you said. “When you insisted I had the Pestilence, and everyone would die horribly if I wasn’t cured.”

His gaze softened, sad at the edges.

“I may have been… theatrical in my fervor, but it was the truth, and still is.”

“But what does it mean?”

His pale gaze drifted to a point around your throat, as if gathering his thoughts. As badly as you wanted answers, it was nice to sit still for once, even if your gut throbbed with a deep ache. 049’s warmth under you, and his hands braced along your back, was soothing and a little distracting. Now that he was here with you, it was hard to keep your hands in check and not touch every part of him you could.

“If there is a deeper meaning,” he finally said, “it is beyond my knowledge. It is simply your nature. Your death would signal the destruction of all who remain in this facility, and perhaps a wider radius beyond that. It would accelerate decay and darkness, and leave the world broken and vulnerable.”

That was… about as clear as mud.

He must have seen your confusion, because he continued, “Your Foundation have devices in their possession that ‘heal’ breaches and strengthen the tethers of the laws of physics.”

“Reality anchors.”

His eyes creased in a pleased smile.

“Yes, precisely. You have glimpsed the breadth of your abilities, and it is much more than negating anomalous properties. The essence of your purpose is to nullify anomalies. Completely.” His words dropped into a grim tone. “As you have discovered with the grotesque statue.”

You didn’t like where this was going. Really didn’t like it. So you pushed forward and changed the topic back to something that didn’t feel so dangerous.

“What does this have to do with me dying? You said it would bring catastrophe.”

He tilted his head.

“You have already guessed the answer. You serve as a reality anchor. Your death would cause a… cascade failure in a localized area, rending reality unstable. Anomalies would spontaneously appear in the zone of influence, and any previous anomalies and humans that survive the untethered reality would most likely fall prey to these new, more violent entities.”

Your mouth had gone dry, your throat tight.

“I don’t understand. How do you know all of this?”

His tone was the equivalent of a shrug.

“It simply is. Every anomaly you meet will understand it. Even the Foundation knows of your kind, though they did not know you are among them. Even the Site Director guessed incorrectly at your designation. You already have a designation. All thirty-six of you share it.”

A shiver ran up your spine.

“There are… others? Like me?”

That warm smile again, like you were a quick student learning a difficult lesson.

“I’ve met only one other, but yes.”

“You met one?”

“A researcher, much like yourself. Perhaps I should not be surprised another of your kind found their way to this organization. We draw you to us, and we are drawn to you. It’s not a conscious choice, it’s simply what you are.”

“SCP-001.” At his widening eyes, you added, “That’s what 079 called me.”

The breath he expelled was heavy, as if something weighed on his chest, and his voice lost its previous firmness, becoming too quiet.

“I couldn’t let you die.”

You reached up and placed a palm on his hood, over where his cheek would be, and turned his head so he looked down at you.

“You didn’t. I’m alive. I’m here, because of you.”

Some of the fear faded from his eyes, but there was a lingering sadness you didn’t like. You couldn’t quite reach his forehead this time, so you pressed your lips to the side of his beak, lingering on the faint, comforting scent of him. You wished you could take the time to just be with him. It felt as if the breach had been going on for days, when in reality it couldn’t be more than a few hours.

This time when you pulled back, the apprehension had been chased away entirely, replaced by a different kind of darkness. A familiar one. You remembered it most vividly in the shower that was meant for planning escape and had ended up with you braced against the wall, 049 fucking you so thoroughly you’d forgotten your own name, only able to repeat his.

You averted your gaze, needing to stare anywhere that wasn’t his face. The only thing separating you was a thin blanket, something you were very aware of perched on his legs. Despite having been shot in the gut and gone through some kind of surgery, you felt surprisingly good. Good enough that, if you were someplace safe, you would have pushed that blanket aside, straddled his lap, and coaxed out his cock and made him forget his fears.

But you weren’t somewhere safe, and now you were fucking frustrated and horny and—

Your attention fixated on his chest. The rough hide of his skin was usually a dull, leathery texture, but something had caked itself across his robes. You sucked in a breath and carefully traced the outline of what were unmistakably bullet holes.

“Oh, no, oh God, you’re—”

049 let out a huff of air, like a chuckle, though you didn’t see anything funny.

“I have already removed them. Metal pellets aren’t enough to destroy me, though I admit, it was not a pleasant experience.”

“No, it’s not.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, fingers still tracing a wide circumference around the healing wounds. He should be fine if he could joke about the fact he was shot, at least.

“We can’t stay here,” you said. He gave a faint hum of agreement, but neither of you moved. One arm was braced against your lower back, and his other hand was on your upper arm, his thumb rubbing your shoulder in a soft, absent-minded pattern. You could easily fall asleep like this, though the sensation of his thumb stroking your bare skin where the blanket had slipped down was enough to keep one part of you awake.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your eyelids slipping closed against your wishes. “For saving me. Even if, you know… you had no choice because I’m a ticking time bomb.”

“Do you believe that’s the only reason I did it?”

His answer was a low rumble that tickled up your spine and pulsed in your abdomen, and you were very glad he couldn’t see your face at this angle.

“We should, uh, keep going.”

You tried to get up, and for a moment, 049 held you firm. You would fold like wet tissue paper if he decided to just keep you there, but instead he lifted you off his lap, rose to his feet with a wince, and picked you up like you weighed nothing.

You wobbled when he set you on your feet, and you tugged the blanket around your shoulders to keep it from slipping. Your face was still flushed, and that didn’t help, along with your nakedness.

“I—my clothes—”

Before you could finish, 049 unclasped his bag and reached in, rummaged around, and pulled out a stack of clothing. It was an exact replica of your smock, leggings, and underwear, but at least they were clean and whole.

“Thanks,” you said, carefully taking the stack with one arm while the other held up the blanket. Before you could ask—and you weren’t entirely sure you would have—049 turned away from you to give you privacy to dress.

You let the blanket drop and shivered in the cold air before pulling on the smock, careful not to bend or move too sharply to dislodge the stitches. Every time you glimpsed them your stomach flipped like a stormy ocean, and you were glad to cover them.

Once you were clothed, you pulled out your old gown, wincing at the rips and streaks of blood. You dug around in the pockets but found nothing. You searched the bloodied lab coat next, but that too was empty.

“Shit,” you muttered, turning out the pockets to be thorough. “I can’t find 714.”

“The jade ring?”

“Yeah, have you seen it?”

“I have not.” He didn’t sound especially upset by that fact. “These things have their own schedule to keep, but perhaps you will find it when needed.”

You peered at him, but your suspicions didn’t last. You couldn’t imagine 049 taking the ring and lying about it, and he was right. Anomalies did tend to have a mind of their own, even if they weren’t sentient or alive.

“I’m done.”

He didn’t turn around immediately, distracted by his arm elbow-deep in his bag. The combat boots you’d taken from the armory seemed in decent shape, and as you were tying the laces, 049 revealed what he was searching for.

“Is that…” You scrunched your nose. “A walking stick?”

It was more of a cane, sleek and black with a polished metal handle.

“I found it sequestered in this storage unit, along with my satchel.” He stared at it with no small amount of pride. “They took it from me when I first arrived at the Foundation.”

“Well, I’m glad you got it back.”

When you gained your unsteady feet, he held the cane out to you.

“Please,” he said, offering you the handle. “It would… comfort me if you used it.”

When he put it that way…

You took the cane from him, the weight of it sturdy and the handle cool against your palm.

“I had to leave the firearms behind, but with my satchel returned, we should not need such weapons.”

That was a scary thought, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know what kind of nasty things he could pull out of that bag.

“Hopefully we won’t need it.” With a glance behind at the mess of bloodied clothes and surgical material, you turned to face him, a steadying hand on the cane. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Next Chapter

[vnikra]

THEYYYY

[tallovines]

I LOVE WRITING TALES FOR MY STUPID LITTLE SCP OC X CANON SHIP 😈😈😈

[butch-enjoyer]

Horrible scp idea!

It is a soup store that sales canned soup, but once you buy a can, clothes come out of the tin and they all are good quality and very durable. They are good tho but they are cover in soup.

[anundyingfidelity]

INTERROGATION GONE WRONG – Cleon XIII/Brother Day

Summary: Cleon XIII interrogates his statisticians about Hari Seldon's predictions. His in-turn maid remains there hearing the conversation, unbeknownst to him, knowing the answer - at least part of.

Pairing: Cleon XIII/Brother Day x female maid reader.

Word count: 2.9k.

Warnings: extremely dub-con, smut, abuse of power, forced orgasm, choking, fingering, degradation, p in v, creampie, not the soft aftercare you're waiting for. The author is also non native English speaker.

Notes: this is based on that scene of 1x04. This is the most non-con thing I've written ever. I gave my warnings. Also please watch Foundation lol, this show reminded me of how much I loved Lee Pace since like 2014. Once I'm in, I will never get out and I needed to write something for Cleon I love him he is an idiot.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

The man fell with a thud on the floor. You should be scared, surprised, trembling with fear, but this was not new behavior for you or anyone in the palace. Since Seldon's exile and the disaster shaking the Empire gradually, the response of the new Cleon was clearly expected after being a witness of a poor reunion and inconvenience with the staticians. More than a conversation, it felt like a judgment, a death one.

"Dining, now," he ordered passing by your figure on his way to leave the throne room. With a bow, you followed in an instant and ready to serve him.

Cleary, you could tell he was not in the good mood that day, already skipping the meal for breakfast with his brothers earlier; something that was out of the itineraries. Once a change of the routine happened, it meant something was off, so you thought. Demerzel was also not around, attending other meetings, so this left you alone with Empire, opening the door of the sole dining room the Brothers used privately, with the tall figure of Cleon XIII waiting impatiently for his midday meal and looking every move you made around the place to please him as fast as your feet allowed.

The cooks served the meal arranged from the menu after your order and they left as rapid as they came in, Brother Day dispatching them with a hand gesture once they were done. You took a couple of steps back, standing close to the table but ready in case he dispatched your presence as well.

"Not you, you stay," he commanded after sipping his wine for the first time, eyes focused on the plate he would eat.

"Yes, Empire."

You had to obligue, and that is what happened. You watched him from the corner of your eye, from time to time in silence, pretending to be unconcerned and collected, though that was far from being true. The whole meal time was eternal, specially that day. With no Brother Dawn nor Brother Dusk around for Brother Day to have a bland talk with, only the sound of fine cutlery clinking against porcelain as Empire ate. Boring, your head began to spin around, thinking in non-senses and theories of what you heard and read from Seldon's predictions of the fall. Empire was cruel, but it had you working, serving food to your plate, and probably that was enough. But it didn't stop your curiosity of learning further the philosophy of Hari Seldon.

When in front of Empire, your gaze seemed lost but your mind was working. You never said a single comment about studying Seldon's theory, of course. You were just a maid. Science and university never were a good pair for a woman who served the Empire. However, you still found the math behind his calculations as something intriguing and fascinating for some reason...

"Maid," the loud voice of the Emperor interrupted your daydream. "I said, wine."

The intense look on his eyes forced you to attend his order fast, serving more of the fermented liquid on the cup standing besides his plate.

His large hand took the cup when you filled it with wine and he sipped again, his eyes scanning you slow and deep. You knew he sensed something was wrong with you. Swallowing, you noticed he already had finished with his meal, so you finally you dared to speak.

"Can I retire your plate, Empire?"

"Is there something you want to share, maid?" he responded, blatantly ignoring your question and dragging your title like it was nothing but a shameful word to spill.

"At all, Empire," your voice came as a whisper.

Brother Day stood on his feet with such grace and started a slow walk towards your figure. You wanted to step away, but you feet were glued to the ground, so his tall and intimidating form washed over you soon.

"Speak," he instructed coldly. You started to tremble, unable to take off your scared eyes from him, bitting your bottim lip as he leaned. "Or do you want to be punished?"

His hand forced around your neck all of a sudden. As an act of reflection, you tried to pull back from his grip, but he was much stronger, having you in place and cutting your breath. "I know you hide enthusiasm around Doctor Seldon's theories," he whispered darkly on your ear. "I am not giving you a choice, speak!"

As he yelled down his last words, he pushed you harshly, body falling to the grown. Air filled your lungs once again and you coughed, sitting down and watching that he was coming closer with big steps. You dragged yourself on the floor using your hands and feet trying to not tangle yourself with the fabric of your dress. Fighting the tears on your eyes, your back touched the wall and sobbed. There was nowhere to go now. So you finally confessed.

"Your staticians would not give you a number because it's true!" you cried out. Brother Day stopped on his tracks just a couple of inches before you. "It's all true, Doctor Seldon is right. And it all began with the Star Bridge, I know you were a child when it happened because I was a child too when the crisis started. There is a probability, but is not zero," you said, recalling his words.

You saw his face changed. He was exhasperated already, but rage appeared in his eyes in a very visible way; a rage that you had yet to see from Empire. Fear took over you, afraid of what would happen next. Should you keep talking? Should you continue crying? Scream for nobody to come around for your sake? As you questioned yourself, he lowered himself to be at your level on the ground. Brother Day never sat down, but he was making sure to get under your skin. His powerful gaze had a quick effect to do that.

"Go on."

Too scared to speak, you opened your lips but no sound came out. Empire waited your words for a moment, scrutinizing your face. And still, nothing came. He grabbed your arm with a rough grip, forcing you to stand up, colliding with his body until your back hit the empty part of the table he had been eating in.

"You have ten seconds to continue or I will force everything that is in your head out of you, maid," Cleon threatened. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three-"

"I said it was probability," you shuddered. "Life is a probability by all means and Seldon knows that," you breathed, aware that Brother Day was feeling your shaking body under his piercing eyes. "I studied Doctor Seldon's psychohistory and theory for the last four years, learning math and other sciences on my free time on the library. So even if I don't posses a title, I know his hypothesis was only that at the time; a hypothesis can be null, but also be provable, and thus now is not untrue."

He slowly leaned away.

"So you say there is no error on Seldon's ecuation," he concluded, jaw clenching.

"None that I could find."

Brother Day paced in front of you, back and forth, hrad processing what he just heard. You could tell he was getting what he wanted, but nothing was what he really longed for. And what you found was nothing but the truth. Maths don't miss, it was useless to lie.

"How do you simply fall into a conclusion like that? Prophecies of the Empire declining into a dark age after centuries of rising. Of our legacy!" he stopped again and went back to your figure, trapping your body between himself and the dining table. You felt his breath when he leaned close, the smell of wine and fruits mixing with his cologne was intoxicating your nostrils as the last tears flowed down your cheeks. Sooner or later, you thought he was going to end up with your life. You had nothing left to lose by now.

"It's simple history and logic. Everything that goes up has to go down, even empires."

All you felt was his big palm slapping your face, your back hitting the edge of the table. A hurted moan filled the room, and he forced you to look at him grabbing your chin with the same strenght he had used on you all this time, like you were nothing more than a doll to play with as he pleased.

"In other circumstances, I would find you amusing," he breathed gainst your lips. The touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away your last tears, contrasted the roughness of his words, his body between your legs and his weight pressing you to lie down on the surface.

"Psychohistory words, not mine," you whispered, your hands running to wrap around his wrist, but his aura repelled instantly your touch. It was useless to keep trying. So here you were, ready for Brother Day to end with your life in just the blink of an eye. "Maybe Brother Dusk made a mistake," you continued, giving up on leaving the room alive. "Make Hari Seldon stay instead..."

Brother Day pressed further against you, almost crushing you with his significant huge frame.

"Such a talented brain and mouth, why don't I put you to good use? I think I deserve it."

He forcefuly turned you around until you were bending over the table, a loud gasp falling from your mouth. One of his hands making its way between your legs caused your thighs to press together, trying to stop him, but it was impossible, so you had nothing to do but beg.

"Please, Empire," you felt like crying again at his touch, his fingers cupping your clothed pussy in a slow motion. "Stop, please-"

"Shut up, whore," he grunted, rubbing his crotch against your ass and slammed your face with his free hand so you had your cheek lying against the cold surface. "I had enough from you."

Heartbeat rising, you tried with no results to escape from his body cage. The sway of your hips caused Empire to grow eager. His slender fingers pushed your panties aside, coating them with your own wetness, and that was certainly something you did not expect to be down there. He hummed in response, rubbing your folds, and you exhaled once he entered one finger.

Your body responded to his ministrations, his growing erection pressing against the curve of your ass while he played with your cunt as he wanted, easing a second digit inside your walls. Probably you should just give in by now as you felt your muscles tighten, already reaching your high. Almost. The first moan of pleassure escaped your throat and you regreted the answer of lust coming from your body the following instant, your palms holding yourself on the table.

His long digits fucked you faster and your legs trembled, his thumb played with your clit so deliciously you thought you were passing out soon. He leaned down until you could feel his breath on your neck.

"Fucking take it," he groaned, feeling your warm walls pulsing around his fingers.

Almost not having control over your body, your legs further opened, like his voice just ordered you to do it.

"Please, please..."

Again, you cried and begged, not sure of the reason. For pleassure, shame, mercy... Anything was possible at that moment as whimpers and moans fell from your mouth.

The sensation grew stronger down your belly, feeling him exploring your insides too deep, touching a place no man nor your fingers reached before. It happened repeatedly, it felt so sweet and sinful. Like something you never knew but you were sure would leave you aching for more. His fingers making you so drunk and pleading for a release, and the seconds that passed by were endless until you finally blissed out with a loud moan, convulsing by the work of his hand.

Brother Day gave himself a wicked smile, watching you squirm and gasp. Such a strong orgasm he ripped out of you. He pulled his fingers away from your pulsing cunt and admired your wetness coating them before he raised the skirt of your dress and took off your panties until they were hanging between your ankles.

You grimaced at the feel of his big palms rubbing your ass cheeks, parting them to get a view of your throbbing heat, still clenching around nothing. You could listen to him undoing his pants. He hissed, taking his hard lenght to rub the sensitive skin of your ass and his thick tip teased your slit, sliding slowly inside. You gasped at the sudden intrusion as he stopped from filling you up completely, feeling your tight cunt embracing him.

"Empire, please not this-"

"This is how I prefer you," Cleon whispered on your neck, you stopped your plea. "Submissive and quiet. You are not so bold now, are you?"

And he slowly entered your pussy further. You whined, nails scratching the fine material of the table. You were so tight and warm. He had to control himself of not pounding into you right away. Being filled up by the Emperor shouldn't arouse your body like this, but your heat welcomed his cock like it was the perfect missing piece of a puzzle.

"Are you a virgin, maid?" he asked, hips giving a couple of shallow, slow thrusts. Your hips moved in sink with his own, your nipples were now hard and erect against the surface, scratching the fabric of your bra and dress, giving up into heavenly bliss. Sweet mewls left your lips as he stretched your cunt. And it was oh, so long since you felt this full.

"No, Empire."

Your response was the green light. He started to rut into you. Rough. Even if your answer was to be different, you knew Empire would not care. He used to get away with what he wanted, and right now he wanted you. His own grunts made eco along with the sound of his skin hitting your ass, your moans escaping without any shame now. The small amount of discomfort he caused was transformed into pleassure and arousal, keeping his hands firmly on your hips.

"Then you can take it, you've done this before," he mocked, increasing his rough pace.

His grip was strong on your sides, you knew his fingers would leave marks on your skin once you finished. But nothing mattered, you decided, the only on your mind was reaching sweet climax and release. You could not escape from him, not ever. So your body and mind could go through it.

Cleon's eyes found the perfect spot of view to see his cock entering and sliding out your perfect pussy, his shaft glistening with your wetness and his own precum. He stopped and pulled out for a moment, teasing with entering and pulling out, watching himself sliding inside your body.

"Oh gods," he listened to your broken moan, breath hitching.

He again cupped your neck with his palm, fingers roaming around your throat, forcing your back to meet his chest. Your moans were cut by his firm hand, air being a privilige as seconds passed by. He sucked and bit the skin of your neck, burying his cock until his balls met your ass repeteadly, finding that sweet spot of yours.

"Cum," he ordered. "Cum or you will not breath again."

You knew you were close, but you needed it faster. You needed to breath, as good as his cock felt, fucking you and splitting you open, you still needed to make it until the end. Your fingers found your clit and played with your bud as Empire bucked his hips fast and rough. Finally, your muscles tensed and forced a hard orgasm out of you, walls pulsing around his dick. He grunted, not slowing his thrusts, softening the hand around your neck allowing you oxygen again.

"Merciful am I?" he groaned and you felt his seed painting your insides, cock throbing as he also came from his high.

"You are, Empire," you breathed out.

Your back arched and you held yourself on his hands and chest. You heard the sound of one of the chairs being taken out, being dragged by him until you felt he sat down, you on his lap with his cock still burried deep inside you. His slick cum ran down your inner thighs as he parted your legs, touching your abused cunt and clit, feeling how you were still connected. He rubbed your pussy in slow, gentle moves, collecting his cum mixed with your juices. He offered his fingers to your lips, so you licked them as he wished, sucking them clean. Your walls pulsed again.

"So obedient now," Cleon purred.

His hands undid your dress to free your chest, groping your tits as he pleased. He played with your nipples, just like he had played with all of you in a few minutes.

"What will happen to me?" you asked in a murmur.

"Such a pretty cunt you are," Brother Day began, tracing kisses on your shoulder. His voice made you shiver. "You would please me a lot as a cuncubine of the Gossamer Court."

You swallowed hard, not capable of speaking or fighting back. He felt your body tensing so he continued his speech in your ear. "No worries, I can play with you some more before it happens. And you will tell me everything you know about Seldon."

[insomniac-djmm]

Dr. Gears relationship headcannons? :3

My first request for Dr. Gears! He's one of my absolute FAVORITE characters, I'm so excited to write for him! ^^

(My best friend, @shslbunnylover, makes fun of him and says he uses Life Alert and that he's so old, he invented the alphabet ToT) Also, thank so much for this request, I absolutely love your account, as well! (*´∀`*) Merry Christmas!! <3

Dr. Charles Ogden Gears Relationship Headcanons

• Gears is notorious for being expressionless to the highest degree, so when you were the only person he'd give a half-smile to, rumors started.

• And those rumors were correct: Dr. Gears had a thing for you.

• Of course, the man himself confessed to you before word got around to your ears.

• It was blunt - short and sweet.

• "I have an interest in you. Would you be interested in beginning a relationship with me?"

• Perhaps a rose as well! A small token of his affection (｡•̀ᴗ-)

• During the relationship, there was a bit of a change in his behavior, both towards you and his coworkers.

• He didn't seem as uptight, but of course, he still was. Just not as much.

• Even his reactions were finally slightly noticable!

• And with you? You could probably get a full smile out of that man. Maybe even a little chuckle.

• Others found it impressive, you thought it was sweet.

• He will always check on how you're doing, even if it's obvious how you are.

• "How are you doing today, my dear?"

• He likes hearing it from you.

• It also gets you to talk about your day as well, and he enjoys listening to your voice.

• You guys have a Talker X Listener dynamic.

• He takes note to do research on the things you bring up during your conversations.

• He even has a piece of paper where he lists things to look up for you.

• Hand-holder. No notes.

• Just kidding, I'll give some notes.

• I think he's left handed!

• So, for example, while he's doing some paperwork, he'll hold his paper down with his right hand, yeah?

• He likes to place your hand on the paper and then place his hand on yours.

• He especially likes rubbing your hand with his thumb a bit.

• His absolute favorite thing is hand-holding, at least, with you it is.

• To him, it's a nice thing, feeling the warmth of somebody else.

• The constant feedback that they, too, are alive.

• He expresses his affection with little gestures.

• Opening the door for you, bringing you a cup of coffee in the morning, waiting for you during lunchtime.

• Every little thing matters to him, and he wants all the little things to say that he loves you.

I had so much fun writing these! I had a ton of headcanons from my self-ship with him, so I got this done super quick! I absolutely ADORE Dr. Gears, so thank you so much for this request! I really, truly hope you enjoyed it! Merry Christmas!! <333

[elizabethminkel]

@hellotailor & I have done an interview...ON CAMERA!! Very excited to be the first installment of the EFF's new "Gate Crashing" series. If you've ever been curious to see the faces behind The Rec Center....

[papiliomame]

JUMPSCARE WARNING!

Things That Bleed by @artistfingers , @ghostly-cabbage and @kkachis

I was in the mood for some horror stories and I always saw this fic as a recommended fic on my dash. And yeah it's awesome go read it! Also, I really like the font and the formatting it's really nice on the eyes. I was inspired to make make a model for SCP!Danny and to animate a scene from it.

The animation is the barn scene(chapter 4) from Officer Alvarez POV. (I wish I could add some audio but I'm not a sound designer.)

And here are a turnaround and some screenshots for the Dannymodel but with his normal hairstyle.

[jtweird-brainrot]

PSA: JUST SO WE’RE ALL ON THE SAME PAGE AND THERE’S NO CONFUSION

Agent [REDACTED] is a canonical character in the SCP Foundation who is mention in SCP-076 file

Agent DIMITROV is an OC that is BASED on Agent [REDACTED], he is made by @arson-jellyfish69 and @who-is-this-weirdo (art by arson)

In my fanfics, I call him Dimitrov, mostly because I like the OC and I don’t want to call him REDACTED.

But just so we all understand, I DID NOT MAKE DIMITROV NOR DO I OWN DIMITROV

He belongs to Arson and who-is-this-weirdo, NOT ME! I just write the dorky fics

Anyways, there’s your psa

[echantedtoon]

Hello There ~

BREAKING NEWS: Possessed mask attempts to seduce local female scientist with his egotistical personality!! When interviewing (anomalies-) witnesses they had this to say.

"Reid's tired of his shit", claims fellow scientist. "He's a simp but he keeps denying it."

"I'm going to break him to pieces and bury his retched being in so many places, not even the man claiming to be God in this damned prison can put him back together!," threatened an anomalist bird man whom wishes to remain anonymous.

More news after the break-

(I dunno anymore, I just got lazy with the summery. Once again thank you to @wolveria for giving me permission to write something based on her works. Again please check out her own Scp, Star Wars, and other works. They're all pretty good. He might be ooc because this is like the second ever time writing for him. Now for the obligatory warnings-

Warnings for Dyo possessing a guy, technically the guy he's possessing is dead so warnings for that, Dyo IS his own warning, and some possible innuendos.)

The clock upon the wall ticked down the seconds of the face to face reaction.

TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.

Footsteps thudded down the halls, a reinforced prison of concrete and metal intertwined.  The marching of soldiers towards some unforseen battle yet to take place. The significance of their duty weighed heavily on them all. Heavy battle gear weighing down their steps and weapons in hand as they stood at attention to the ones who would be arriving at the end of their possible lives.

The clock struck midday and the ticks and rocks chimed in time with the footsteps now coming down the hall past the row of armed guards. White Lab coats swayed from bodies as they walked determined down the hall to the very sealed door that awaited them.

"Are you sure you want to do this? We don't know what he's capable of. He's unpredictable!"

"I'll be fine. This has to be done and I'm the only one who was assigned to this task."

"Are you sure you want to go alone in there?"

"It must be this way. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"*sigh* Alright. But if you feel like you're in any danger at all, just give the word and we'll cut this interview immediately." 

"I know. Open the door."

She stood there and held her head high as the other scientist backed away as an armored guard was shaking as he reached out to typed the code into the side panel. With a heavy clicking sound, the fated gate sealing back the hell within. With a loud screaming creak and push from a guard, it fell open inviting her within before the evil got out. Her breath was shaking as she exchanged one last look with her fellow man before inhaling a shaking breath, steeling her nerves, and slowly starting to make her way into the belly of the beast.

The darkness which was inside was known for his sinister ways and even more evil character. The charming friendly exterior merely a facade for the wolf underneath. Gentle words sweetened by poison. Kind smile hiding sharpened teeth. Kind touches laced with sins gripped in fists. Halo being held up by devil horns. The wolf under sheep's clothing wasn't even a wolf but a monster twisted and exotic hiding within a wolf's fur to disguise itself as a normal menace. A monster who hunts but also feels and desires.

Who preys on innocent humans.

Who sees them as nothing but puppets. Dolls for his amusement.

Who's wicked whims knows no bounds. Who knows what this evil will do next?

"Why HELLO there!~ I've been waiting for you forever.~"

She could only feel her eyelid twitch in irritation from the mere sight of the entity before her. The heavy shutting off the door sealing behind her being the only answer to the voice.

The atmosphere was tense. Always was with this particular entity. The entire cell she stood before was proof of that as well. Reinforced with thick concrete walls so thick it'd stop even a bulldozer in it's tracks, the only none concrete surfaces within the square prison cell of walls were the thick iron door behind her and the reinforced glass window she was looking through in front of her. The only source of light being from a single light illuminated in the very center of the ceiling with just enough shine to let the entity in the center of the room be known.

"No 'honey I'm home'? Oh now that stings."

The man- No. The THING before her. A stolen body sitting at the table like he was as human as she was, however the mask he wore gave him away. Quite literally unfortunately. The bring white smile. The white porcelain mask of death being worn by a man's body long dead and now a sick meat puppet for the mask to control as he pleased. Black liquid oozing from the orifices and staining the skin like a sick canvas.

He had the audacity to sit down at the table placed in the room and clasped those stolen hands together to lay his head upon them. Wide permanent smile on it's face. One hand detached to waggle fingers at her. 

"Good evening, Ried.~ Have you come to perhaps relieve me from my chained despair?~"

Oh you wish. Is what she wanted to say but instead she inhaled and continued on over to the table to take a seat on the other side. "I'll be conducting a mandatory interview with the SCP designated as zero three five also known as 'the possessive mask.'" She did nothing but follow protocol ignoring his less than innocent demeanor and slowly taking her seat across from him. "This interview is taking place at sight twenty on December first twenty twenty four."

"Are you really going to give me this boring speech again?," he inquired tilting his head to a degree that was absolutely inhumanly possibly. Perhaps a shock factor? 

"Due to the nature of containment and history of said subject, your cooperation in these proceedings is required under penalty for any and all privileges-"

"Can we just skip to get the good part already?" The interruption was followed by a splay of hands gesturing everywhere. "It's always this boring front you all repeat like a broken record. Why don't you at least mix it up a little bit? Ask me something engaging like do I know what I'm actually doing when I get a body." She resisted the urge to fake puke as he leaned forward. "That's a yes for the record.~"

Her scowl must've been slipping through but she decided to take a breath and continue. Just remember to remain calm. A reaction was what he was looking for. "Any and all privileges revoked. Does the subject understand what the terms are?"

A sigh left him. "You're not even going to try to not be boring?"

"This isn't about having fun," her deadpanned voice bluntly stated scowling at him. "It's about having a serious talk with you. If your recent good behavior persists then you might be able to get more privileges. More interviews."

Like she expected his demeanor was anything but cooperative. "That's all you pills want to do is talk. Not that I don't mind telling my life story but you all don't seem to appreciate the efforts I make."

"It's because most of the time you throw tantrums until you get your way or you try to steer the conversation away from the actual subject." Like he was once again doing now. "If your good behavior persists then you'll be able to get out more which would require more ...host's for you to continue talking to you."

She knew access to humans was one thing this degenerate would want and when his head perked up in interest, she knew he was at least listening to what she was saying. Her hands held up the papers for him to see. It was just a few test questions to gauge to see if his recent 'good behavior' deserved to be looked into more or more specifically to see if it'd be worth endangering staff to try and get more information on him. The choice to let him out of the glass box he was usually contained in and dangle a D Class personnel like tempting a dog with a bone was insane. But she wasn't paid to question the mental stability of her higher ups.

"More? Real people too?!"

With a small sigh through her nose she nodded. "Yes. But only if the higher ups approve."

"HA! Deal! But remember I'll be holding you to it."

Her deadpanned look couldn't have been more obvious. "Right. Well before that I need you to confirm that you understand the terms of this."

"Fine. Whatever."

"Then let us begin." It was uneasy to sit down so close to an anomalist entity even if he's still in a cell and on the other side of the glass. Things always had the potential of going wrong, that's why precautions were made but even then she hoped he would mess up so they'd have an excuse to put him back in that glass box. "Alright. First question. What are your thoughts on your current host body?"

"Oh. This old thing?" A hand outstretched when an arm extended out, rolling the wrist and flexing the digits allowing a few black droplets to drop onto the table provided to him. Their splits ending in small burn sounds as the black sludge age away at the wooden exterior before he simply shrugged it's temporary shoulders. "What can I say? He's sturdy and strong enough to last at least..Oh. I don't know. Four maybe five hours if I take good care of him before he completely melts away."

"That's it? Nothing else to say about him?"

A hand grabbed the color of the orange, now stained black and slowly disintegrating along with the flesh and bone underneath. "Well a little change in wardrobe might be nice. I mean come on. After a while orange gets redundant. Why not spice it up a little bit? Let me express myself!" His hands mimicked ones actions of adjusting and invisible tie. "A suit perhaps. I think I'd look quite charming in a bowtie wouldn't you agree?~"

Her eyes slowly blinked. "Out of all the things you find discomforting about the bodies you take is the fashion? Nothing else?"

"Hey. You guys don't care about these guys anymore than I supposedly do if you use them for things like giving them ol' Doc a new toy to play with. At least with me they don't feel pain."

"Fascinating. Anything else to say about it before we move into the next question?"

The head nodded. "Yes!"

"What is it?"

"This dear fellow was of French decent. You know what that means?"

"No..What does it mean?"

Instead of answering normally, in one swooping motion he leaned himself halfway off the chair 'dramatically' pressing a hand to his forehead while together kicking up a leg.

"It means you can interview me like one of your French girls!~"

She sat there staring at him before sighing and pressing her forehead to the papers she held with a groan knowing fully well that everything was being seen by others through the security camera in the corner of the room. 

"Why can't you just be normal around me?"

To which he laughed. "Y'know this technically means I can French kiss now too.~"

"Fat chance."

"I have a chance then! And it's a fat one! What luck on my part today!"

With a sigh she felt herself rub her temples as he chuckled. Why was this always her luck with these creatures?

[dzthenerd490]

SCP: HMF Foundation Personnel - Doctor Meri Clef (SCP-166)

Name: Meri Clef

Titles: SCP-166: Just a Teenage Gaia/ Level 4 Doctor of the Foundation / Researcher of the Fire Suppression Department - Psychology and Therapy Division/ Advocate of the Ethics Committee.

Skills: Possesses an extremely calming voice / Very patience / Very Compassionate / Very Understanding / Good at suppressing her emotions (not always a good thing) / Can manifest flowers from anywhere / Plants grow fresher and healthy around her / Possesses vast knowledge in all areas of gardening / Is Much, MUCH stronger she looks / Hates violence but is great as self-defense / Very fast / Possesses lots of endurance / Always knows how to deescalate a situation / Possesses excellent hearing / Is nocturnal

Weaknesses: Can get mad very easily / Sometimes suppresses her emotions too much / Not a pacifist but despises violence even necessary violence / Tends to put the feelings of others before her own (not always a bad thing) / Very sensitive to loud noises / Easily blinded by flashing lights.

Famous Quotes: “My faith is what helps me keep going.” “I have people who need me and if I’m being honest, I need them too.”

.

SCP: HMF Art Collection Hub

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