#took a lot of dirt to fill that hole...

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

im in hell, but at least this rock is Nice

ping ponging back and forth between seeing immense beauty everywhere and feeling deeply like i am in hell

[liz-on-leash]

Live To Breed

[Commissioned]

VIVIZ SinB/Hwang Eunbi

Gangrape, Mentioned Death, BBC Tribesmen, Breeding, A Lot Of Cum, Vaginal Fuck, Anal, Pregnant Fuck, Some Other Heavy Stuff.

3,919 Word.

The day started like any other for VIVIZ, but shit was about to hit the fan in the most fucked-up way possible. SinB, the feisty one, Eunha, and sweet Umji were bouncing around in their jeep, deep in the heart of the African jungle, looking for some thrill.

The girls were living their best lives, laughing and joking, when all hell broke loose. A freaking stampede came outta nowhere, like some shit from a horror movie. The driver hit the brakes, but it was a lost cause. 

The jeep went flying, and SinB went airborne, straight into a goddamn tree. Her clothes ripped like wet tissue paper, and she was left bruised and bleeding, screaming her lungs out.

"FUUUUCK!" SinB howled in agony, her voice raw as a guttural scream. Her sexy outfit was in shreds, exposing her smooth skin, now marked with scratches and cuts that would make a horror flick proud. 

She tried to get her ass up, but her body was like jelly, trembling and weak. Where the hell were Eunha and Umji? She cried out for them, her voice fading in the vast jungle.

The jungle, usually buzzing with life, went dead quiet, like it was mourning the crazy shit that just went down. SinB's pleas for help bounced off the trees, her voice cracking with each desperate call. 

The pain was a bitch, clouding her vision, but she fought to stay conscious, refusing to black out. As the sun started its slow descent, painting the sky with fiery colors, a crew of hulking dudes appeared, straight out of a tribal wet dream. 

These motherfuckers were ripped, their dark skin glistening with sweat, and all they wore were tiny-ass loincloths that left nothing to the imagination. Their bodies were inked up with tribal tats, and their eyes held a wild intensity.

SinB's mouth hung open as she took in the sight, momentarily forgetting her pain. These dudes were built like gods, and their sheer size made her feel like a tiny doll. 

They muttered to each other in some ancient tongue, their deep voices rumbling like thunder, probably discussing the hot mess of a woman in front of them.

"Help... please, help me," SinB managed to whisper, her voice scratchy and weak. The men's eyes narrowed, their gazes intense enough to burn holes through her. 

They didn't give a shit about her plea, probably thinking she was some crazy jungle spirit. The biggest dude among them strode over, his muscles flexing with each step. He scooped SinB up like she weighed nothing, causing her to whimper.

This beast of a man carried her through the jungle like she was his prize catch. SinB's eyes darted around, taking in the unfamiliar sights of their camp. It was like a scene from a National Geographic documentary, with buff dudes going about their business, their bodies glistening with sweat and dirt.

These savages didn't waste time with pleasantries. They ripped what was left of SinB's clothes, leaving her in her skimpy underwear, her curves on full display. 

She tried to cover up, but these guys didn't give a damn about modesty. They cleaned her wounds, their rough hands exploring her body, and wrapped her up with some dirty-ass cloth.

"Fuck off!" SinB tried to fight, but it was like a kitten swatting at a lion. A sharp slap landed on her face. "Ugh!" She tasted blood, her lip split open. Another jab to her ribs had her gasping, reminding her just how helpless she was.

The men finished patching her up and shoved some weird-ass herbal shit down her throat. SinB choked and spluttered, her eyes watering from the bitter taste. 

Satisfied, two of them grabbed her, ignoring her weak struggles, and hauled her ass to a nearby barn. Inside, it was like a damn dungeon, filled with terrified women from different corners of the world.

The women were a sorry sight, some crying their eyes out, others moaning in pain, their bellies swollen with pregnancy. SinB's heart hammered in her chest as she realized she'd landed in some tribal sex cult's lair. She tried to scream, but her voice was shot.

Just then, all hell broke loose outside. A group of the tribal dudes, their massive cocks swinging free, dragged a screaming woman outta the camp. Her pleas were met with laughter and crude catcalls.

The men's laughter was like a sick chorus, their eyes wild with lust. SinB's blurry vision focused on their massive dicks, already hard as steel, ready to invade some poor woman's body.

The men wasted no time, and the woman's screams echoed through the camp, a haunting soundtrack to the night's twisted festivities. SinB's eyes fluttered, her mind overwhelmed by the day's events. 

The last thing she saw before passing out was the terrified faces of the captive women, knowing their fate was about to get a whole lot worse.

The night had turned into a fucked-up, twisted sex fest, and SinB was front-row center for this sick tribal ritual. Her eyes popped open as the barn erupted with screams and moans.

The women, who were once crying their eyes out, were now getting pounded by these tribal beasts, their cries echoing like a damn horror movie.

"Oh fuck, mercy, please! No more!" a woman begged, her voice raw from screaming her lungs out. But the men just kept pounding her from every angle, their dark, sweaty bodies slamming into her like wild animals.

"Harder, you motherfuckers! Break me in half!" another chick screamed, her body bucking as two dudes took turns drilling her, their cocks stretching her holes like she was some damn sex toy. 

The scene was brutal, but damn, it was hot as hell. Even the preggo ladies weren't off-limits.

"No, not my ass! My baby... oh, fuck, no!" a pregnant woman wailed, her eyes rolling back as a dude hammered her ass, not giving a damn about her swollen belly. The sight was enough to make SinB's stomach churn.

SinB's eyes were like saucers, taking in the savage display of raw, animalistic fucking. Her body ached to run, but she might as well have been glued to the ground. She tried to crawl away, but it was like trying to escape a pack of hungry wolves.

"Please, just let me go, you bastards!" SinB's voice was raspy, barely a whisper.

These dudes weren't having any of it. They grabbed her like she was their personal plaything. One dude chuckled, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

They pinned her down, their rough hands holding her arms and legs, spreading her wide open like a buffet. SinB screamed and kicked, but it only made these animals harder.

"Let me go, you animals! Help!" SinB's pleas were desperate, but they just laughed, their eyes wild with lust.

The dude on top of her, his cock already hard as steel, ripped her panties off like they were nothing. "No, stop! Get your hands off me!" SinB shouted, her voice breaking as he groped her tits, squeezing and twisting her sensitive nipples until she saw stars.

Pissed off by her resistance, the dude stood up and stomped on her stomach, making her gag and cough. Before SinB could catch her breath, another dude was on top of her, his thick cock aiming straight for her mouth.

SinB's eyes widened as his cock invaded her, stretching her jaws to the max. This dude was packing an anaconda, and it hit the back of her throat, making her gag and choke.

He grunted, face-fucking her like a pro. SinB's throat bulged, moving up and down, her eyes watering, snot and spit flying as he pounded her face. Another dude cheered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a mark.

The dude pounding her face went to town, his balls slapping against her chin, making her gag and choke some more. SinB's body shook, her bound hands clawing at the dirt, her throat working overtime to take that massive cock.

He growled, his hips slamming into her aching throat. SinB's eyes rolled back, tears mixing with the spit and snot as she struggled to breathe. Her throat was on fire, but this dude wasn't letting up, his cock throbbing, ready to unload his cum down her throat.

The barn had become a twisted, hardcore sex dungeon, where SinB's screams and the other women's cries were the soundtrack to a night of brutal, non-stop gangrape.

The tribal black men were on a roll, and SinB's mouth was their fuck toy. These motherfuckers took turns shoving their thick, veiny cocks down her throat, face-fucking her like she was their personal cum dumpster. 

SinB choked and gagged, her eyes watering like a waterfall as she tried to take their massive cocks. One guy gripped her hair like a leash as he pounded her face. SinB's throat was getting fucked raw, her gag reflex going crazy, but these animals just kept going harder.

Another guy shouted, slapping her face with his thick palm. SinB's cheeks stung, but he didn't give a shit as he jammed his cock down her throat, making her eyes bulge like a cartoon.

"Can't... breathe!" SinB managed to gasp between the thrusts, her voice muffled and desperate. But these savages just laughed, their rough hands holding her head like a pet, forcing her to take their cocks.

One after another, they blasted their hot cum down her throat, making her swallow their seed like it was her job. SinB's belly was swelling, her throat on fire, and she felt like she was gonna puke her guts out.

"No more... gonna puke!" she whimpered, her eyes pleading for mercy but a hard slap landed on her cheek, making her see stars.

One man growled, grabbing her hair and forcing her mouth open for his throbbing cock. SinB gagged, her throat convulsing as he face-fucked her with zero fucks given.

These native men were all about getting their rocks off, and they didn't care about her comfort. Some even used her hands and thighs to jerk off, covering her skin with their hot, sticky loads. SinB's body was a mess, covered in sweat, cum, and bruises.

The barn was a horror show, with women's screams and moans filling the air. SinB's eyes darted around, witnessing shit that would give her nightmares for life.

"Help... I'm pregnant! Have mercy!" a woman begged, her belly shook as two men double-battered her pussy and ass. The poor chick was screaming, but they just kept pounding until she went quiet, her body limp and her holes bleeding.

A man grunted, his cock buried deep in the ass of a woman who was clearly out cold. SinB watched in horror as he pumped away, not giving a damn about the blood or the fact that she wasn't even conscious.

“No, no, no– Oh god!" another woman cried, her body arched and bruised as three huge black men took turns violating her. Her screams turned to whines, then silence as the pain overwhelmed her.

SinB's throat was on fire, and her stomach felt like it was gonna explode from all the cum she'd been forced to swallow. When a cock finally pulled out of her mouth, she puked, spewing a mix of cum and bile.

"Fuck— argh, can't swallow anymore!" she begged. But they didn't give a shit. A sharp slap landed on her mouth, making her eyes water.

A man barked, grabbing her hair and shoving his cock back in her mouth. SinB gagged and choked, her throat working achingly to take his thickness as he fucked her face with no mercy. These tribesmen made sure to mark her as their territory. 

They flooded her mouth, on her body, and even made her lick their balls. SinB's body trembled in disgust, her throat and mouth abused, but they just kept going, their cocks throbbing and unloading their semen wherever they pleased. 

Time had lost all meaning for SinB as the assault on her mouth continued. These tribal studs had been using her face as their personal cum dump for hours, forcing her to swallow load after load, even as she puked it all up. 

Her stomach felt like it was gonna burst, her belly swollen and hard, a testament to the endless cumshots she'd been forced to take.

SinB's body was a mess, her once flawless skin now glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead. 

Her lips were swollen and bruised, gaping open as if they'd forgotten how to close, and her throat was on fire, like she'd swallowed a flaming blade. She couldn't feel her face anymore; it was just a numb, throbbing mess.

Her curvy body had gone limp, her arms splayed out on the dirty ground, but the men held her head up, ensuring her mouth was always available for their pleasure, cocks sliding down her throat, making her gag and choke, her eyes rolling back in her head.

SinB's mind was fuzzy, her body exhausted, but the men showed no signs of stopping. Her throat was so fucked, it felt like a permanent part of their cocks was lodged in there. She couldn't even swallow her own spit without pain.

As another thick release was forced down her throat, SinB's body went into overdrive. She convulsed, her eyes rolling back, and for a moment, she thought she was gonna pass out. The man finally pulled out, letting her fall to the ground like a ragdoll.

SinB gasped for air, her body twitching uncontrollably, her throat and mouth leaking cum and saliva. She lay there, unable to move, her eyes pleading for this nightmare to end. The men, however, seemed to be just getting started.

They stood around her, stroking their hard cocks, their eyes wild with lust as they discussed their next move. SinB prayed for death, for the sweet release of unconsciousness, but the gods weren't listening.

Suddenly, a massive man stepped on her swollen stomach, making her cry out in pain. He twisted his foot, and SinB's body betrayed her, spewing cum and pee, her throat and pussy leaking like broken faucets.

"Oh god– fucking hurts…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. The man just laughed, his deep voice echoing in her ears. He then grabbed her ankles, dragging her out of the barn, away from the screams of the other tortured women.

SinB's heart sank as she realized this was far from over. She was being dragged to the center of the camp, where a crowd of over fifty tribal men awaited, their bodies naked and glistening with some ritual oil.

"No… just kill me," SinB mumbled, her voice weak and defeated. She wanted this torture to end, but the men had other plans. The idol's worst fears were about to be realized as the tribe prepared for a night of depraved rituals.

SinB was done fighting, her body limp as a rag doll as the men chained her up like a sacrificial lamb in the middle of this tribal orgy. They tossed her onto the wooden platform, her stomach heaving, causing her to spew out the cum she'd swallowed earlier.

The men were quick to secure her, chaining her wrists and neck, ensuring she was their helpless plaything. Her curvy body was on full display, the torchlight highlighting every inch of her skin.

A dude with a lean build grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him as he poured some weird-ass green liquid down her throat. It was some tribal shit to keep her awake and ready for their sick games. SinB gagged on the bitter taste, but at this point, she was beyond caring.

The crowd went wild as the first man stepped into the spotlight, his cock so big it swung between his legs like a damn pendulum. This dude was a fuckin' beast, and he was about to tear SinB a new one.

He crouched down, his hands gripping her soft hips like they were made for him. He lifted her ass, positioning her on her knees, showcasing her plump, round cheeks. The motherfucker poured oil on her ass, his touch making her tremble.

SinB's ass was a sight to behold, and this dude knew it. He massaged the oil into her skin, his thick-ass thumb getting dangerously close to her tight hole. With a deliberate move, he pushed his thumb into her asshole, making her scream like a banshee.

"Fuck! Stop, you bastard!" SinB cursed, her body going rigid as she felt her ass being stretched beyond its limits. The dude's thumb worked her hole, making her scream and beg, her struggles against the chains useless.

The pain was off the charts, her ass on fire as he finger-fucked her, preparing her for the main event. SinB twisted and turned, her body a mess of desperation, but the dude held her hips like a vice.

Before she knew it, his thumb was out, and his massive cock was at her entrance, ready to breach her tight hole. With one brutal thrust, he impaled her ass, making her eyes roll back.

"Ahhhh, fuck! It's too big! It's splitting me— it's in my guts!" SinB screamed, her voice shaking. 

His cock was a monster, tearing through her sphincter like it was nothing. She felt it stretching her insides, poking places no cock should go.

The man held her hips, his cock buried balls-deep, and started pounding her ass like it was a punching bag. SinB's body jolted with each thrust, her pee spraying out as her bladder broken.

The crowd went nuts, their cheers filling the air as the man brutalized her ass, his cock owning her with each brutal stroke. SinB's screams were music to their ears.

The big dude was merciless, slamming his cock into SinB's ass like a jackhammer, her body taking the full force. Her legs were straight, toes pointed, as she endured the sensation of being impaled, her asshole stretched to its limits. It felt like she was trying to poop out a watermelon, but it just kept going deeper.

SinB's eyes were rolled back, her mouth hanging open, drool dripping down her chin as she groaned and whimpered. Her pale tits scraped against the rough wood with each jerking motion. 

The man grunted like a wild animal, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock even deeper. SinB's ass clenched around him, milking his cock as he pounded her hole. 

The pleasure was too much, with a few more deep thrusts, he exploded inside her, his hot cum filling her ass. He pulled out, his cock glistening with lube and cum, leaving SinB's ass gaping and sore. 

She collapsed onto the platform, her body trembling, unable to move or speak. But there was no respite for the idol.

Another tall, muscular guy stepped up, his cock already slick with oil. He knelt behind her, slapping her leaking pussy, making her jerk and whimper. SinB knew the routine by now, and she bit her lip, bracing herself for the incoming invasion.

A few men gathered around her head, their cocks in hand, stroking and getting off on the sight of her oily, abused body. One dude even stepped on her head, his foot pressing down as he admired the show.

The man behind her positioned his thick cockhead at her pussy lips, teasing her entrance. SinB's body tensed, anticipating the pain. With a slow gesture, he pushed inside, making her moan and arch her back.

"Ahh, shit, shit— My pussy, uhhh!" SinB cried out as his swollen tip popped through her tight pussy lips, stretching her beyond her limits right away. Her pussy clenched around his cock, resisting the invasion, but he kept forcing his way in, inch by inch.

The man was tenacious, his cock a battering ram, pushing past her resistant flesh. SinB screamed and shook, her body a mess of pain as he yanked her onto his cock, burying it deep in her pussy.

Her pee sprayed around his girth, an indication of the intensity of the insertion. The men laughed, their eyes wild with unsatiated lust as the man kept punching her inner walls, his cock slamming against her cervix with each thrust. 

The sudden pleasure was intense, causing SinB's body to tremble and convulse, her pussy clenching around his cock as she climaxed, her juices flowing and mixing with his. But the pleasure was short-lived as his cock kept pounding, hitting her cervix with lethal impact, causing searing pain.

"Ahhh! Fuck, stop!" SinB cried, her body arching off the platform as the man lost control, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. Blood trickled down her thighs as her pussy was torn and ravaged, the pain almost unbearable.

The man was in a trance, his cock throbbing as he emptied his load deep inside her, breeding her pussy with his cum. He pulled out, his cock glistening with her juices and blood, leaving SinB's pussy gaping and sore.

The men weren't done with her yet. They forced her to drink more of their herbal drugs, keeping her conscious. They even splashed water on her, cleaning the blood and dirt from her body, their rough hands scrubbing her skin.

SinB's body was chained tighter, her wrists and neck secured, ensuring she couldn't escape the breeding that awaited her. More tribesmen lined up, their cocks hard and ready to take over her abused holes.

Day after day, the ritual continued, with over 60 men taking their turns with her every single day. They raped her solo, double-penetrated her, and even tried triple penetration, stretching - tearing her holes beyond their limits. SinB's screams and moans were a constant soundtrack in the camp.

The only sustenance she received was their cum, fed to her by force, enough to keep her alive and fertile for their breeding games. Her memories of her past life as an idol faded, replaced by the constant sensation of huge cocks filling her sore, aching holes.

For weeks, SinB's disappearance was headline news in South Korea. The authorities found Eunha and Umji's bodies, but SinB remained a mystery. Little did they know, she was deep in the African jungle, being bred by a tribe of men.

Weeks turned into a blur for SinB, her body now permanently marked by the tribe's ownership. Her once flat stomach now sported a slight bulge, a result of the countless times she'd been bred. 

The men had moved her to the barn, where she joined the ranks of other pregnant women, all awaiting the birth of their tribal offspring.

SinB was on all fours, a leash around her neck, her body of stretch marks and bruises. Two tribesmen stood beside her, their rough hands massaging her swollen breasts, tugging at her nipples until milk squirted into a bucket, proof of her fertility - the only reason that kept her alive.

Behind her, a group of men took turns with her ass, their cocks pounding her hole to stimulate her milk production. Her pussy, already dripping with cum from the men who had just used her, was a constant reminder of her fate.

The once vibrant K-pop idol was gone, replaced by a shell of a woman, her body a vessel for the tribe's pleasure and procreation. 

SinB's mind was a haze, her memories of her past life fading with each brutal fucking. She was now a breeding machine, her body existing solely to produce the next generation of this unknown tribe.

[sirenmoth]

Prey

Werewolf x GN!reader

CW:DUBCON, outdoor sex, forest sex, predator/prey kink, knotting, marathon sex, penetrative sex, mind break, breeding, cockwarming, a lot of cum

Running as quickly as your legs could carry you, your legs like jelly as the mess of mixed cum and saliva trickled down between your legs, the old dry mess combining with the fresh still warm load, you hope it wouldn't leave a trial that leads the beast directly to you. You just got away from it again, just barely, having it mount you on the cold forest floor and pound into you with abandon over and over while you begged and screamed in mercy or in pleasure, it was hard to say as it pulled orgasm after orgasm from you until it was satiated for a short time, its knot lodged inside you keeping everything in. The beasts cock nice and snug as you warm it with your gummy walls.

How many have you had? It was hard to say, as everything was blurring together, your mind hazing over into a lust-filled, cockdrunk state more after each round.

You'd run, get found, mounted by the beast that towered over you, and mounted and fucked into the dirt until you couldn't speak or think once more, a small breather while it laid on top of you while it licked you like it was grooming a pup. Both yours and its lower half covered in cum and sweat, you can feel its soaked fur against your skin as it kept you speared on its cock with the knot that kept you both in place, making sure the creature's thick, warm fertile cum took, making sure a litter was ensured by the end of it all. Once the knot deflated and slipped to you, the second it got off you, and you could stand on your own two legs, you ran.

Rinse and repeat.

Only know it was hard to do that, you steps turned into stumbles, and you turned to leaning on the trees for supports, your mind foggy and exhausted, it was getting harder to get away from the creature, and you know that is exactly what it wants, it's adamant on keeping you close and stuffed full of its cock and cum, never letting you stray to far from it. Mud ran up your legs from your feet to your knees while the mess of white fluids down from your stretched open hole and thighs, the two mixing in the middle, leaves were stuck in your hair, and you had dirt and mud all under your nails and over your hands.

Your eyes blurred as black spots speckled in your vision, leaning against the nearest tree until it past, stumbling a bit more and hoping there is enough distance between the two of you to give you a proper rest. The thumping of paws against the leaf covered ground proved you wrong, you freeze and listen carefully for where it's coming from, then darting off in the opposite direction with it hot on your heels, breathing down your neck as your bruised and sore knees hit the earth, digging into the dirt.

You breathe heavy as you hear it approach, did you stop on purpose or did your legs give out? You couldn't tell as you see its front paw come into view, "please..." you meekly whimper out, wishing it will go easy on you this time. Mounting you, pressing your shoulders down, your hands already bracing for what's going to happen, face sideways in the dirt. It humped your ass a few times in failed attempts to enter, after a minor adjustment and thanks to the dripping mess it left behind, its cock slides in one go, balls deep inside your warm walls.

Without warning and giving you no time, it starts thrusting, rutting into you with reckless movements and the need to breed you. "Fffuuucck- mmm," you moan out, the force of the thrusts pushing you forced causing your knees to dig in further into the earth, hands trying to find some stability to ground yourself.

Nails and claws pin-prick your skin, the momentous force of the thrust rocking you back and forth, but still keeping you impaled on its flared red, heavy cock. The sound of slapping skin muffled against fur and high pitched whines echo out into the surrounding forest, please of mercy or maybe for more.

It's hard to say as you let yourself sink deeper into the mental fog.

"yesyesyesyesyes-" you garble out as another orgasm washes over you, dragging you deeper into the fog clouding your mind, any thoughts you had about running were quickly being pounded out of you with a sicking wet thwap as its fur covered pelvis and thighs met the meat of your ass, its legs on either side of your hips.

Cum, both yours and the beasts, is pushed out of you in clumps and down your legs, onto the earth underneath your limp body. Your legs sore from the friction causing them to dig and drag on the dirt and from the position you're in, you moved your arms to be under your head to cushion it, still the claws dug into your shoulders and your nails into the flesh of your palms. Huffs and growls could be heard from above you, as you cum again, drool starts falling from your lips as you left yourself go, the mental fog finally took over.

All that's left in your mind is the thought of the big, flared cock rutting inside you and how good it's making you feel, bringing you waves upon waves of mindless pleasure as it hits that sweet spot inside you over and over. Giving in to you, you slump your top half down and raise your ass high into the air, presenting and offering yourself to the beast that had been fucking you so good, all cognitive thoughts have left your mind as you enjoy the sensations. Somehow it moves faster, choked moans and sobs escape your throat from every thrust the creature buries itself deep inside you again and again.

"P-please." you manage to get out, not sure what you're begging for any more, but the beast seems to have an idea on what. A brief moment of clarity and to breathe as it stops thrusting but still stays inside you, it repositions so you're now fully pinned underneath, head squished into your arms and your body into the dirt, thighs pinning your calves down as the beast pinned you down, effectively trapping you now with nowhere to go, if you wanted to run it would be impossible. Then it starts back up, pounding and rutting harder than before, this time with a purpose and a goal, barely pulling its cock out before slamming it back in, never leaving you empty, its heavy sack slapping against your thighs.

You can feel its knot swelling against your abused hole again, pressing against trying to get in, more choked whines leave you, "Kn-knot me, please, ple-please." Absent mindedly begging to be knotted and filled, the creature happily obliged. It wanted to breed you full of its litter, and here you are begging for it, even if you didn't know it in your cockdrunk haze.

One finale hard thrust and its knot slips in, inflating as the creature cums one last time deep in you. You cum from the sensation alone, the sensation of the knot stretching you open again, your hole clenching around the knot, trying to pull every last ounce of white fertile fluid out of it. You both lay there, catching your breaths, your sweat covered skin sticking to its fur, drool leaking out of your mouth, eyes rolled back into your skull. Its cum shooting high up, deep inside you, keeping you in this lust-filled mindset a little while longer. Allowing yourself to be licked and groomed by the beast.

Once the knot deflates and the beast pulls out, it expects you to run, but you don't. You lay exhausted and limp on the forest floor, cum spilling out of you, the creature picks you up and flings you over its shoulder, knowing it has won the game you both were playing. Its prize? Fucking you over and over while you lay and look pretty in its nest, having you take it cock over and over while it breeds you. It's not satisfied yet, you notice its cock emerging from its sheath again as it walks, bobbing up and down with each step, who knows how long it will be before it's done with, hopefully you can survive until then.

[princessbrunette]

oh my fuck i just thought of outlaw!jayj and johnbee and them using u as bait!! like ur so pretty n sweet looking so they put u in the forest looking all helpless and hide behind the trees and wait for someone rich to come through… and when someone does obviously they stop to help u because who wouldnt!? while ur sweet talkin the guy, jayj and john bee jump out with the guns and rob them! u don’t particularly like it but they way they fuck u so good after makes up for it 🫶

-☀️

🫧୨ৎ🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི⋆⭒˚｡

doing your job so reluctantly, woeful little pout on your face when the target strolls up to you as expected. you do your part, bat your lashes just the way jj told you to, hold lots of eye contact the way john b advised, and soon — you get to sorrowfully watch the colour drain from the poor suckers face when he feels the cold metal of a pistol against the back of his head, your two lovers having made their entrance.

“yeah, you know what that is dont’cha?” jj asks with a grin— but it’s not the smile that reaches his eyes that he gives you, it’s this cold and scary one. you know it’s closer to a grimace than a smile truly, and you know it means trouble.

“whats going on? just drop the gun, we can talk this out.” they always try to reason, but in order to get their money — the outlaws have to really put the fear of god in him, make this guy think he’s actually gonna die.

“we don’t wanna have to hurt you buddy. turn it around, easy… there you go.” john b instructs, standing back as jj keeps the weapon pointed straight at the strangers head. as advised, you disappear back behind a tree, out of arms reach incase anything does go wrong. they say it’s for your safety, and because a pretty young thing like you shouldn’t see such nasty behaviour from her two fellas.

it gets boring after a while, so you sit down behind a tree, the voice faded to a muffle as you hum to yourself, picking up a ladybug on your finger, entertaining yourself. sometimes they rough the guy up a bit if he’s not complying, beat on him ‘til he does — but the exchange never lasts longer than ten minutes. soon, the guys cleared off and your boys collect you, helping you to stand.

“gonna get dirt on your dress, pup.” john b tsks, patting you down and you stare over at his companion curiously.

“did you get anything good?” you tilt your head to the blonde rifling through the napsack they fill their ‘prizes’ with. he squints one eye when he smiles, and this time you know it’s genuine, and he reaches inside the sack and pulls out gold jewellery he must’ve taken from the man.

“you tell me, this look good to you babydoll?” hes showing teeth now, biting back a chuckle as your jaw drops, bouncing with excitement.

“oh that’ll make you a fortune!”

“all from your help, sweetheart.” that homely rumbly voice that belong to john b cuts through, a warm hand on your waist pulling you into his side. you melt into him, his body on yours always feeling like it could make you fall asleep. he smells like fresh water and embers from last nights camp fire— all warm and daddy-like.

neither of them let you forget how helpful you are later that night, a few drinks down in a shabby motel shack, sandwiched between the two of them, crying and gasping with a dick in each hole.

“f—full!” is all you can say, and the boys chuckle— albeit slightly awkwardly, their faces so close from the position on the bed. john b took your pussy, jj nasty as ever in your ass.

“the…good kind of full?” john b coo’s like none of it’s happening, a hand brushing your cheek. jj kisses the back of your head, letting out a breathy moan momentarily after.

“s—so good!”

“only the best for… goddamnit… only the best for our best girl, right john b?” jj’s barely holding it together.

“you’re damn right, jj. our good little helper.”

🫧୨ৎ🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི⋆⭒˚｡

[mcflymemes]

ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE (2001) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

it's been my experience when you hit bottom, the only place left to go is up.

i sleep in the nude.

about time someone hit him. i'm sorry it wasn't me.

i didn't say it was the smart thing, but it is the right thing.

i came down the chimney. ho ho ho.

we've done a lot of things we're not proud of. robbing graves, plundering tombs, double parking... but nobody got hurt.

maybe somebody got hurt, but nobody we knew.

will you look at the size of this? it's gotta be half a mile high at least.

our lives are remembered by the gifts we leave our children.

you're so skinny, if you turned sideways and stuck out your tongue, you'd look like a zipper.

hey look, i made a bridge.

as far as me goes, i just like to blow things up.

come on. tell the kid the truth.

does it match my dress?

it was like a sign from god.

i got your four basic food groups: beans, bacon, whiskey, and lard.

you have disturbed the dirt.

what have you done?

if you give back every stolen artifact from a museum, you'd be left with an empty building.

i gotta admit, i'm disappointed.

you ask too many questions!

who are you? who sent you?

do not be such a crybaby.

now tell me your story, my little friend.

trust me on this one. you don't wanna know.

if you're looking for the pony rides, they're back there.

what else have you got in there?

forget your jammies, [name]?

you're gonna want a pair of these.

i think we've seen how effective my decisions have been.

have i left anything out?

you did set the camp on fire and drop us down that big hole.

i took this job when my dad retired.

you are a scholar, are you not?

who told you that?

let's go over it again, just so we got it straight.

we're all gonna die.

someone needs to talk to that girl.

for the good of the mission, i will go!

tonight's supper will be baked beans. musical program to follow.

hey, i had nothing to do with it.

i'll have to quit my job.

you didn't just drink that, did you?

don't move, don't breathe, don't do anything...

carrots? why it it always carrots?

with something like that, i would have white wine.

we can't let him do this!

okay, now you can go.

how was my accent?

we are not thriving.

where are you going?

don't take no for an answer.

look, i have some questions for you, and i'm not leaving this city until they're answered.

somebody's gonna have to suck out this poison.

i thought you said he only had guns!

mercenary? i prefer the term "adventure capitalist."

do you wanna do my job? be my guest.

i'm gonna need you to fill these up.

thank god i lost my sense of taste years ago.

why don't you translate, and i'll wave the gun around.

this was not part of the plan.

you do swim, do you not?

your heart has softened.

you would have slain them on sight.

what they have to teach us, we have already learned.

something wrong with your neck?

so i guess this is how it ends? fine. you win.

get back! i've got soap, and i'm not afraid to use it!

look at all those tattoos!

i've got a bone to pick with you.

any last words?

i really wish i had a better idea than this.

i know i'm forgetting something.

you're the one who got us here.

you must've read it a dozen times by now.

sometimes i get a little carried away.

all will be well. be not afraid.

i hate fishing. i hate fish. hate the taste, hate the smell, hate all them little bones.

you will not regret this!

hard to believe he's still single.

can you drive a truck?

no time like the present.

i love it when we win.

you pick now of all times to grow a conscience?

[violet-fluff]

Uhh well I'm a writer myself but.. I'm kinda shitty at romance.. it's too hard for me.. so a small request for Levi..

I don't know that much on the idea but this quote just hit me hard dear

"If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?" - Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes

Got any ideas.. I've been stuck in it for days... It was from another fan fic.. a Levi X reader one lol

Levi x Reader

An Empty Heart

“Hi, Love. How are you doing?”

You smile as you sit in front of a head stone, dusting off dirt from its etchings.

‘Levi Ackerman

Humanities Greatest Soldier

Humanities Greatest Friend and Husband

Forever Missed’

“I miss you. A lot…”

A tear drops from your eye and you laugh while wiping it away.

“Yes, I still cry. I know you said not to cry over you for too long, but it’s hard.”

A cold breeze glides across your skin, causing you to adjust your cardigan that keeps slipping from your shoulder.

You sigh and lay on the grass, facing the stone and laying your hand across the smooth marble.

It’s the closest feeling to holding his hand again.

“If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn’t be filled?”

You smile with a quivering lip, holding your hand towards your chest.

Levi took your heart with him when he died. Although, you didn’t mind.

Your heart is a piece of you that he can have with him always…with wherever he is.

You hope it makes him feel safe. Makes him hold onto the love you’ve given him until you both are reunited again.

Perhaps him having your heart is what makes him happy while he waits for you.

It’s ok that he has it, because it’s that hope that refills your empty one.

Hi, hi! Hope you enjoyed what I wrote for your request ❤️ I loved the quote and I kind of wanted to make a happy-ish drabble for it.

[flowerbetweenfangs]

To The Wolves

This was written as an entry for a contest. The theme was "masquerade" I played fast and loose and just focused on the "mask" part. It was a lot of fun. This is a Red Riding Hood retelling.

CW: Attempted non con, (Not by the narrator) Knot, beast form.

Originally On A03

Every year, once harvest was done and winter was about to begin, the village I watched over would perform a ritual. With the crops now reaped, they would sow the seed of their unions, in the hopes that their pack numbers would increase. 

I was an ancient One. Older than the fields I roamed. Larger than the village itself. While such a form would be cumbersome, I took up space elsewhere.

I was a whispered prayer. The howling of wind. A burnt offering. A scratching at the shrine door. A carving on a wall. A shadow moving across the ground. An image in a scroll or book. A sight just out of the corner of an eye. 

They called me “Hunt” and “Harvest”. But the few who had laid eyes on me called me by another Name. I answered to all of them. For what is a God without believers? 

As Winter’s chill settled in, I could see the villagers tirelessly working. They carved wood into masks. Many used the pictures of me in ancient texts as reference, but each one had their own unique form. A symbol of their devotion. Once they wore it, they would be acting on my behalf. While not as powerful as a direct offering, it was a gesture I preferred. 

They had chosen a woman to don the vestments this year. Not a maiden, nor a crone. Young enough to run and be free, but old enough to know what she was getting into. Unclaimed and untethered.

She worked with the matriarch of the shrine, creating cakes that could fit into the palm of her hand. Each one was prepared and placed in a wicker basket. They called the older woman “Grand Mother”, for all her work in keeping up with the myths and offerings. 

Those who weren’t taking part had to be shut inside, threats of me gobbling up any one who disobeyed. Sometimes a bit of fear was necessary. While I had never harmed a human under my protection, no one wanted to be the first. 

As darkness fell, Grand Mother went on ahead. She vanished into the treeline, the light of her lantern bobbing up and down until it faded from view. When she arrived at the shrine, she would wait there until morning.

The Mask Makers followed shortly after her. Some howled, some sang, many simply panted and grunted with the effort of the sprint. Soon, their voices also vanished into the night. 

The woman had been stripped of all her earthly belongings and name. She was given the basket and a crimson cloak. It fell over her shoulders, and hung just above the ground, but did little to preserve her modesty when she walked. 

Bare feet kicked up dirt as she walked to the edge of the village, the basket hanging from the crook of her elbow. She would not even be allowed sandals for her journey, only her faith to protect her from what lay within the woods. 

A howl in the distance signaled that she was to start her journey. 

At the edge of her home, she paused. The light of the moon illuminated her path. While she had grown up near the forest, it was a different thing entirely to see it at night. 

Once she got to the treeline, I could see her resolve waver. While she didn’t slow, her steps became more cautious and calculated. Shoulders slightly raised, jaw clenched, she listened. 

Clutching the basket close, she allowed herself to shiver. The chattering of her teeth filled the empty night. 

Bringing her hands to her lips, she held them close and continued to walk forward. A harsh wind whipped the cloak around, nearly ripping it from her shoulders. The force made her gait more serpentine, but she managed to right herself. 

The first one came from the trees, his eye holes slightly too big. I could hear his panting as he stalked closer to her, taking care to not snap a twig or step too heavily.

She saw him in time, her body going stiff. One hand snaked into the basket. 

When their gazes locked, he stood upright, eyes greedily studying her form. He took a few steps closer to her. 

“Lady Red, Lady Red,” His voice was muffled by the mask, but it was clear enough. “What have you to eat?” 

Slowly, she withdrew her hand from the basket. A small cake was in her palm. 

Holding it out to the man, she cleared her throat. 

“Dear Wolf, Dear Wolf. Here, have something sweet.” Her whole body was shaking. Whether from the cold or fear, it was hard to tell. 

The cake nearly fell from her grasp before the man finally took it. Clutching it tightly, he ran off back toward the village. I could taste its sweetness as he gobbled it down. My power increased slightly, tethering me further to the land. 

She watched him run, before rolling her shoulders and pulling the hood of the cloak up. Back straight, she began to walk again. 

Her steps, no longer cautious, were still slow. Calculated. The gait of someone determined but not reckless. The residue from the cake still clung to her hand, but she didn’t seem to care. Now that it was over, she allowed herself to feel relief. 

But it was short lived. 

I could hear the whispers as the others began to move. Some closer to her, some toward the shrine. Plans being made. I followed their words, and I could tell they knew I was listening. Shivers went up spines, some slapped the back of their necks when they could feel my breath on it. A few jerked their heads in my direction when they caught a glimpse of my shadow. 

One sprung forward, jumping into her path. The ears on his mask were slightly too large, making him look more like a coyote.

She slowed to a stop, eyes wide like a doe. Breath came from her lips in a foggy cloud. Goosebumps traveled across her flesh as she stared. 

“Lady Red, Lady Red,” The voice rumbled from behind the mask. “What have you to eat?” 

This time, she stood firm and didn’t hesitate. Once more, she pulled out a small cake from the basket. While it didn’t shake in her grip, there was a bit of reluctance as she extended her arm out to the man. 

“Dear Wolf, Dear Wolf. Here, have something sweet.” 

The man stared at her a moment longer, then leaned forward, shifting his mask up. She averted her eyes, holding the cake out insistently. 

He took the cake directly into his mouth, lips brushing against her hand. A few strands of drool remained on her palm, which she discreetly wiped on her thigh when he turned away. I could taste it again, and found my own mouth watering further. 

Once he had devoured the morsel, he stared at her once more, before dashing off back to the village. 

She put a hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief. Her stride picked up again, and she seemed more determined than before. The light of the moon seemed to shine brighter than before, bathing the entire area in a silvery glow. 

I had been watching her so closely, I almost didn’t see the man in the bushes. But I did see the chips in his mask, where the mouth would have been. The jagged edges poked into his lips, a few drops of crimson welling. He followed behind, not announcing himself like the others had. 

Putting a hand over his mouth, he stifled his breath and continued to keep pace with the woman. Every so often, he would reach out, his hand brushing against the cloak’s fabric. I knew a hunter when I saw one. 

We all stopped at the same time. 

Craning her neck, she looked for her pursuer. Her eyes widened. Clutching the cloak tight, she attempted to draw it closed around herself. I could tell she wanted to call out to the man, to get him to come into view. But the words seemed caught in her throat. 

I saw him shift his form, starting to rise, and for a moment I felt relief.  

However, rather than announce himself, he pounced on her. The action was so sudden she didn’t have time to draw in a breath and scream. I don’t think she realized what was happening until he was on top of her. 

Armed with only her faith, she finally cried out the ancient name I’d been known as: 

Warg . 

The basket snapped in two, cakes spilling all over the forest floor. Steam curled off the top, and they blackened. 

I hadn’t taken on a physical shape in years, but I found myself coming out from behind a tree. To not frighten her, I took on the body of a human male in a rather intricately carved wolf mask, furs wrapped around my torso. Amusingly, the pelt’s tail dangled between my legs where one would be in my other form. 

The tree groaned as I rested a hand on the trunk, nails far too long to be human digging into the bark. A growl rumbled in my throat, tearing through human muscle that hadn’t used it before. It became more of a death rattle, and I worried I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Compressing my being down to a form so small had me ready to come apart at the seams. 

But I wasn’t one to ignore an offering. 

Pausing, the man looked up at me. I could see beyond the mask, the thoughts racing through his mind as he attempted to place who I was. Muscles went taut, and I could see flight or fight warring as he weighed the options. 

I strode closer, jaw clenched to prevent another snarl from escaping my lips. Even though I was around the same size as him, he seemed to notice the power rolling off me. 

Slowly, he slipped off the woman and scrambled away apologetically. The words became curses as he scurried away, the Grand Mother’s title on his lips. 

The woman stayed on the ground, eyes still wide. Each action that followed seemed to be a struggle with how much she shook. Finally, she turned on her side to face me. Attempting to stand, she sucked in a breath when her knees gave out. 

I stood back, debating whether or not to offer her my hand.

Shivering, she managed to struggle to her feet. 

Upon seeing the ruined basket, she covered her face. Suppressed sobs shook her, and I felt a pang of sympathy. Through no fault of her own, the ritual had been halted. 

While she had no idea that she had summoned me prematurely, it was obvious something had gone wrong. If the next harvest failed, she would bear the guilt. Although I knew her attacker would be punished, by myself or by the other villagers.  

Picking up the remaining pieces of the basket, I offered it to her. Once she took them, I could feel a shift in the wind. The scent of the approaching men. 

They’d heard the commotion and came running. They went to call her old Name, but stopped themselves. 

Despite my better judgment, I snarled. It ripped through my very being, and I could feel myself starting to become undone. I debated on changing my form right then and there, but I didn’t want to frighten her more than I already had. Instead, I began to walk. 

I could smell the fear. The confusion. The worry. 

Who is this stranger in our woods? What has he done to Lady Red?

In the light of the moon, I could see the shadow of my true form. A fierce wind howled, and I followed it, vanishing from sight. 

I could hear her running steps. No longer afraid, or maybe more so than ever, she sprinted for the shrine. All that needed to be done now was for her to make it inside. Hopefully the broken basket would be explained away and the night could come to a close. 

I could hear her voice call out for the Matriarch. 

“Grand Mother? Are you there?”  

Silence answered. 

I saw more fear take over her face. Confusion. This was clearly not the way things were supposed to go. 

Peering inside the shrine, I saw the cushion, where the elder had been kneeling, was empty. Sniffing, I followed the scent out the back and into the woods. The smell of gold was strong. The scent of the Broken Mask clung to it. 

Sneaking through a window, I slunk through the Holy Room. Masks from previous years lined the shelves, along with baskets, cloaks, and old recipes. The hearth was still warm, the embers from the fire still glowing. 

Growling, I resisted the urge to run out of the shrine and chase down the pair. 

Once more, Lady Red called from outside the gate. 

Behind her, I could see the approaching silhouettes of the masked men. 

I felt my form shift again, taking on a smaller, more delicate shape. I’d only seen the Matriarch a handful of times, but I hoped darkness would conceal me better. Taking one of the vestments, I wrapped it around myself.

Kneeling on the mat, I faced the front room. 

“In here, dear!” 

The door opened and she came inside. Through labored breaths, she attempted to tell the events of what had just transpired. Before she could get to leaving the village, I saw her stiffen at the sight of me. 

The longer she stared at the disguise, the more it seemed to fall apart. I could feel the power rippling off me, filling the room. I fought between compressing myself and holding up the illusion, or giving in and letting my true form come forth, consequences or not. 

“My, what big eyes you have.” She said, voice shaking. Still, she took a step closer and squinted at me in the dark. 

“The better to see you with.” My throat was scraped raw from the words 

“What big ears you have,” She continued, teeth chattering. 

And yet, she came to the side of the mat. Close enough I could smell her breath and fear. Kneeling next to me, she rested at the edge of the cushion. It was just enough to tilt me, ever so slightly, in her direction. 

“The better to hear you with.” Once more, the voice coming from my form was not made for a human throat, and I could feel it becoming raspy. 

“... And what big teeth you have.” 

We stared at one another. I could feel her warmth, despite the shivering. 

A knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips. I expected fear, anger, worry.

But there was none. Her eyes were wide as realization of what I was dawned on her. Lips parted slightly as she took in a shallow breath to steady herself. 

I allowed the form to unravel. While I still would have been bigger than the shrine in my truest form, I allowed myself to appear as something closer to my nature. Wind whipped through the air, stoking the embers back to life. As the orange glow mingled with silver, I saw my lupine shadow dancing on the wall and carvings. 

My tongue lolled out of my mouth as I inhaled her scent. White fangs flashed in the dark, saliva dribbling onto the floor. 

Despite the warring emotions, I managed to keep my mind. 

“Lady Red, Lady Red, what have you to eat?” My true voice rumbled from deep within. 

Her eyes went down to the ruined basket, then the old offerings lining the shelves. However, she quickly made up her mind. Untying the cloak, she let it fall to the floor. 

“Dear Wolf, Dear Wolf. Here, have something sweet.” 

The hands that had been trembling only a moment before were steady as they cupped my jaw. Fingers buried themselves in my fur, nails far too short to ever be a threat scraping against my skin. 

I wasn’t one to ignore an offering. 

I licked her palms, tasting the residue of cakes and dirt. Making my way up her arm, I stopped at the crook of her elbow, the scent of the town still clinging to her. I moved across her waist, leaving a glistening trail. 

I made my way down to her navel, letting my breath roll over pebbled skin. Condensation formed, a few drops mixing with forming sweat and rolling down. 

Parting her thighs, I lapped at the growing wetness between them. Fingers tangled in the scruff of my neck as her breath caught. She fell back on the mat, legs splayed open for me. Trickling folds invited me to devour them further. 

Massive paws were on either side of her, claws tearing through the fabric of the cushion. I continued to lick, fangs ever so slightly teasing at flesh. Despite my best attempts at being gentle, I still left marks. Nothing a human could ever leave. Soon, she was covered with them.

If she felt pain, there was no sign. In fact, her legs wrapped tighter around my head. I growled a warning, but the noise only seemed to excite her more. Moans and sighs echoed off the wooden walls. 

Such a tribute wasn’t one to be devoured in a couple of bites. I paced myself, drawing out each roll of my tongue, pressing a paw onto her when she attempted to make me speed up once more. 

Once more, she was quaking. As she shivered around my tongue, I could feel a need rising inside both of us. The seeds of harvest needed to be sowed. 

She must have noticed me dripping, because I was finally released. I stared at the dripping wet, panting heavily. My tongue was close enough to tease it, making her back arch and a shuddering groan escape her. 

Without a word, she rolled over onto her stomach, presenting herself to me. Once again, instinct threatened to take over, and I forced myself to remain in control. The literal earth shattering strength I had would make short work of a delicate human body. 

No sacrifice had ever been put through such a trial of faith before. 

Despite all the preparation and her resolve, she was tight around me. Almost too much. Fists gripped the cushion as she gasped in surprise. This was no human male rutting while wearing a mask. And if I had my way, no hands but mine would ever touch her in this way again. 

Once I was inside, my body moved of its own accord. Thrusts were punctuated with grunts and pants, paws covering her hands. I could feel myself being drawn back in when I attempted to pull out, almost like a game. 

The motion seemed to help her regain the ability to speak, and soon she was calling out my name over and over. Her hips rocked back, taking me in deeper than before. Initial resistance turned to eagerness, almost too much. 

As she came back onto me, I met her with a rhythm of my own. My name was called more times in those few short moments than it had been whispered that entire season. 

Such piousness should be rewarded. 

I leaned down and licked her cheek in an attempt to be tender. Salt tinged my tongue. Although I knew she wasn’t weeping from sorrow, I still forced myself to slow. My efforts only made her more wild, and she hilted me. 

My head shot up toward the moon, and I had to resist the urge to call out and stake my claim. I was glad she was facing away from me, because I worried what would happen if she realized that she could make a God see stars.

The thought of her becoming more bold made me shudder. With fear or excitement, I couldn’t say. It was a line that was easy to to blur. 

I ground my hips against her, and felt the release. As it filled her up, I felt a clench that held me fast. I swelled as she did, knotting. Our cries of ecstasy became labored gasps. The sensation sent another shock through me, spurting more into her.  

As she came down from the act, I took her into my arms. Despite being slick with sweat, she was all too eager to huddle up against me while I was still inside her. My hand went down to her stomach, and she shivered at the touch, still tender. 

I knew the villagers would be coming to the shrine in the morning, to see the result of the ritual. 

The seeds had been planted. The sowing had begun. 

I wondered what they would reap come next harvest. 

Something told me that my own pack would be growing soon. 

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Hello! I love your writing^^

If it's alright with you, could we get a short story or reaction(whichever works) of Seth where he finds out halfway that sugarboo is scared of being on a motorcycle even after they agreed to go for a ride with him when he asked while still keeping a tough Image and giving him the "don't tell alph" face , only for him to calmly help them slowly get over their fear and telling them they won't let anything bad happen to them.

Ignore the fear and focus on me.

Seth was half way in the ride with Boo, who was holding on him tightly. They told him they were fine and to just ride because Boo wanted to go on a ride with him. They don't usually get to hang out one on one most days because of his new job.

Boo behind Seth, was having a slight panic attack. Trying to keep their breathing regular as Seth speeds down the road he chose to ride on. It was outside of the town, simple dirt road for a nice quick ride.

There was a thunk, and some shivering from Boo this made Seth turn his head slightly. Trying to figure out if they were good or not, Boo clutch onto Seth even harder when he moved.

"Sug? You good, hon?" Steadying himself on the bike, it wobbled a bit from Boo moving. It didn't help they hit a pot hole a few feet back, did it surprise them? Thinking Seth spoke again gently.

"It's fine Sug, only a small hole I won't let ya get hurt." Turning back seeing no one Seth steadied the bike again. Looking over his shoulder he was about to speak again but paused. The look he saw on Boo was one of terror and saw tears in their eyes, worried out of his mind he slowed down and parked.

"Please don;t tell Alph..." Frowning Boo wiped their face. They felt embarrassed by their stupid fear they had. Seth took off his helmet and then gently took off Boo's wrapping his arms around their shoulder's.

"Sug, babe why didn't you saw you were scared? I would have went slower for you." Soothing Boo, Seth frowned as they sniffed into his chest. Hiding their face not wanting to be seen right at the moment by him.

"I...I wanted to ride with you! I feel like we don't hang out a lot anymore....." Whining out a bit Boo looked up at the cowboy. Seth sighed at what they said, then leaned down and kissed their forehead.

"Hon, if that's what ya felt why didn't ya tell me? I would have taken you on a hike instead, I never wanna make you do something you don't wanna!" Taking his hands off their body and went to their face. Softly holding them as he looked at them, looking straight in their eyes.

"I know, but I also wanted to ride a motorcycle...." Pouting a bit, Seth laughed at that but then thought of something. Grabbing the helmets the brown haired man looked at his partner.

"Look babe, we only have my bike to get back to town. So, wanna try again?" Questioning looking at them, Boo linked at him with puffy eyes. "Slower this time obviously. Just focus on me babe, ignore the fear. I got ya Boo." Adding encouraging words to Boo they nodded with a determined look. They wanted to try this again, Boo was so happy Seth gave them that pep talk.

So going back into position on the bike they clipped on their helmet. Seth smiled at them and followed their lead, getting ready to ride his bike again with them. Gently wrapping their arms around their brown haired partner, Boo focused on their breathing.

"Ready, Sugar?"

"Yes!" Excitement was now filled in them as the bike was revved by Seth. Slowly going back on the road Seth looked both ways and began riding back to town. Boo looked around as they drove back, now that they focused more on Seth than the riding they felt better.

Boo then wonder if they'll ever be able to ride his bike? Maybe not before they get over their fear. Lying their head on his shoulder, Seth smiled to himself as he noticed that Boo was now having fun.

[konohokelly]

LEECH - Sejanus Plinth (1/2)

Leeches are segmented parasitic or predatory worms that comprise the subclass Hirudinea.

Summary: Hirudinea Snow is going to baby-trap Sejanus Plinth to get her hands on the Plinth fortune. Warnings: Sex, manipulation, sexual assault (baby-trapping), toxicity, gaslighting, OC is a bitch, Sejanus is too good for her, OC is a bad person through and through, OC is a Capitol supremacist, Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Minors DNI Past!Hilarius Heavensbee I’m a first time smut writer. Sorry if it’s not good :( MC is fem and named but her appearance is NEVER explicitly described.

Borders by @saradika on tumblr

Graduation was a few months away, and Hirudinea Snow saw no future ahead.

Hirudinea was a lot of things; she was mean-spirited, spiteful, judgmental and shallow. Or at least that's what she's been told.

If her outside matched her inside, she would be as hideous as could be, but they didn't match, and she thought herself to be fairly good-looking. After all, she didn't have much else going for her.

Unlike her older sister, Tigris, she wasn't talented at anything in particular, and unlike her cousin Coriolanus, she wasn't academically inclined.

This was going to be a problem. Her time at the Academy was coming to an end, and she couldn't cheat off Coriolanus to get into University like she had done to secure her place at the Academy.

She often dreamt of her childhood before the uprisings when she was content with the family fortune, but they were brought to ruin by those ungrateful districts, and the money wasn't coming back. It was blown to bits with District 13.

If Hirudinea had her way, the rest of the districts would have ended up like 13, but the Hunger Games would just have to do.

It was times like this that she ruminated on the Plinth family, who were dirt beneath her shoes, yet they lived like kings while she holed away in this rat's nest they called an apartment. And Sejanus Plinth was the worst of them.

She couldn't keep her vision from turning red whenever he spoke against the Capitol in class. He should be thankful that people like her tolerated his living amongst them.

‘I deserve everything he has. It’s not fair.’

Yet he had a legacy set out for him, and all she had was a year left at the academy. After which, her popularity with the student body would mean nothing, and all her friends would move on.

She was nothing, and she contributed nothing. Tigris took care of the family, and Corio studied hard to take them out of poverty, but how would he afford university? How would Tigris not burn out before she achieved her dream?

Hirudinea couldn't help them, all she did was take; she was just a parasit-

"Dinea," Tigris interrupted the depressing train as she entered the room.

"You should come while the food's still hot," Tigris informed her with a warm smile.

Right in the middle of the old oak dining table was a large loaf of bread flanked by a meager serving of butter and jam. Grandma'am and Corio were already seated, eating in silence.

Hirudinea didn't bother using the knife. Tearing into the bread, she moaned as the taste of freshly baked goodness filled her mouth.

"Hey!" Coriolanus exclaimed, unimpressed by her lack of table manners.

The cousins never got along; they were too alike yet too different at the same time. Both had a deep-seated cruelty but while he kept his sentiments disguised, she struggled not to let them out.

"Don't shout at little Dinea, Coriolanus. Manners!" Grandma'am warned. It was no secret that Dinea was the favorite grandchild. The girl could get away with anything in their home.

She tutted smugly at Coriolanus before turning to Tigris with her mouth still full.

"It's sooo good. How did we afford fresh bread?"

"I, um... I had some extra money from work," Tigris rushed out, quickly turning away to cut a piece for herself.

Hirudinea threw her gaze across the table, meeting Coriolanus's. They both knew what Tigris did to feed them tonight.

It was one of the many things they acknowledged but never voiced aloud.

Sensing an oncoming uncomfortable silence, Hirudinea quickly changed the topic. "You'll never guess who Lysistrata was spotted with last week."

She looked off mysteriously, hoping to drum up interest in the otherwise irrelevant drama.

Back in her room, Hirudinea resumed her wallowing as she flipped through the gossip column in yesterday's newspaper.

She thought of the bread and the things her sweet sister had to do to put food on the table. Their parents would be rolling in their graves to see their daughter reduced to such. How Tigris was worth.

Hirudinea’s eyes landed on the story of a woman who was impregnated by some society woman's husband and has allegedly been living off the child care allowance ever since.

'Isn't that funny, my life is going down the drain but some hussy gets pregnant and...'

A lightbulb went off in Hirudinea's head. She sat up on the bed, a scheme coming to life in her mind, one that would change everything.

Hirudinea would get her fortune, and she would leverage all she had to get it.

For the first time in probably forever, Hiridinea was excited to be in school.

Today was the first day of her new life.

It was easy.

All she had to do was have a baby. She decided that going off with some gross old man would leave her with too little control so the father of her child would have to be around her age.

She never cared much for children. She wanted them at some point, but it was never a priority and never for any reason more than she felt she was supposed to have them.

But now there was urgency to it. The only question was which one of her classmates would be the patsy.

She sat in the last row of the class alone today, far away from her best friends, Arachne and Livia.

As she saw their mouths move in conversation, she didn't wonder what they were talking about; she knew the topic was probably her. Hirudinea didn't mind; she did it to either of them whenever the other wasn't around too.

She scoped out the boys in class. None of them would do. In fact, most of them would outright call her a slut and turn her away if she came up to them and said

"Remember that time we had sex? Yeah, you got me pregnant"

Hilarius Heavensbee was her first choice; they had dated for a long time and had similar views of the world, but he was also deathly afraid of disappointing his mother, a battleaxe of a woman who didn't like Hirudinea much. The feeling was mutual.

The woman had finally told Hilarius to break up with Hirudinea after a particularly bad argument between his mother and girlfriend, and he did!

If she ended up pregnant for Hilarius, she would either be forced to abort or give away the baby, and then there wouldn't have been a point to any of it.

Pup was the next best choice. Although she couldn't imagine kissing him, with his food-lodged braces, she knew of his father's sense of responsibility, a military trait.

If she had Pup's baby, the boy himself might turn her away, but his father would not.

As she began to pack up her belongings to move over to Pup and begin her seduction, the doors of the classroom slammed open.

In came Sejanus Plinth. Hirudinea scoffed, he couldn't even be bothered to show up on time. But this lack of public etiquette was to be expected, after all, he wasn't like the rest of them.

"Sorry," he quietly apologized to the professor, not bothering to explain himself, as he knew a trip to the dean's office was in his future regardless.

He looked towards Coriolanus to find the seats surrounding his friend already full. He sighed and reluctantly moved towards the back of the class.

As he walked up the stairs, Hirudinea noticed his shoes; they were brand new, dark leather with silver accents. They must have cost a fortune.

The cogs in the girl's head began to turn.

He sat a few chairs down from her.

'Maybe...but no...wait, this might be something. No, this is perfect!'

She gathered her books and quietly moved down the aisle, settling down beside the curly-haired boy.

The young heir didn't notice her. He was too focused on whatever he was writing in his notes.

From what little she had gathered over the years, he was the perfect candidate: Insanely wealthy, influential, attractive and stupidly naive.

The best part was that he had an annoying sense of moral superiority and would never turn her child away. His parents were a piece of cake; Mrs. Plinth seemed nice enough, and Strabo, in desperation to be considered Capitol, wouldn't deny his grandchild, born from a member of the reputable Snow family.

Of course, there's the fact that Sejanus is District. He was below her. But it didn't matter, she reasoned; the districts owe her for the dark days, and this was just compensation. The Plinths would take on the burden of providing for her child, and she would get their money to save her family and do with as she likes.

Yes, it was perfect.

"Psst," she whispered. "Hey. Sejanus."

Sejanus finally glanced up, shocked when he realized who had called to him.

Hirudinea never made much of an effort to interact with him in recent years, only ever addressing him directly, although briefly, when she needed to speak with Corio and Sejanus was around.

He didn't really miss their childhood interactions either, which consisted of her leading the charge to push him around and call him district scum on the playground.

As they grew up, she had become cordial with him but would still snicker whenever someone made a comment about his upbringing.

He quickly returned his expression to the stoic face he wore when dealing with Capitol people like Hirudinea.

"What are you up to?" She asked with a smile, a playful lilt in her cadence.

Now that was weird to him.

"Taking notes" he replied neutrally

She nodded, looking around as she came up with something else to talk about.

She turned back to him,

“I forgot my notepad in my locker” she used her arm to cover her notepad which was on the table “Is it okay if I copy off yours after class?"

Was this some sort of trick? He thought.

She saw his hesitation and acted quickly "I'm doing really bad in this class, and I can't afford to fail the next quiz." She placed her soft hand over his. "Please."

It would be wrong of him to let her fail, wouldn't it? His soft brown eyes sparkled with compassion.

"Okay, I have a free period next. Meet me after class?"

Coriolanus seemed to be the only one to notice the strange interaction.

He had been surprised when Dinea had sat away from her irritating friends but now she was talking to Sejanus of all people.

She was definitely up to something and he would get to he bottom of it.

She met Sejanus in the library after class. There weren't many people around, and the librarian was busy somewhere far from them.

He stayed mostly silent, expanding on certain things he had written every now and then.

She needed to get the conversation started. But what could she talk about? A shared memory, maybe?

"Do you remember that field trip to the Capitol testing facility we went on when we were eleven?" she asked out of nowhere.

He was confused about the question but remembered the trip well. "The one where you dared Felix to sneak out one of the specimen; he was too scared so Clemensia went instead."

He laughed a bit, remembering how a little Clemmy was led out of a lab by her collar. She still hadn't lived it down.

"She got in so much trouble. A whole week's suspension," Hirudinea added with a giggle.

"What did you call Felix the next day again?" He asked

"I said he was so chicken, I could see the feathers growing out of his ass."

They both burst out laughing.

It was the most relaxed he had ever been around her.

It wasn't long before the librarian came over to shush them. They apologized and spoke with a quieter tone.

"You know, he made sure I wasn't invited to his birthday because of that. I hoped the party was a disaster. What did you think of it?"

"I, um, didn't get an invite either, remember?" Sejanus said with an awkward chuckle.

She did remember now. Hirudinea was the one to tell Felix not to invite the boy. In front of his face too. It didn’t do her any favors so she decided to change up the story a bit.

"Felix was such a jerk for doing that to you. I told him not to, but he never listens."

Sejanus vividly recalled her being in on it too but decided he remembered wrong. After all, she had been so nice today, why would she lie now?

The girl got somber all of a sudden, looking down shamefully.

"You know, I'm really sorry about how we all treated you in the past. You didn't deserve that." She hoped he didn't catch her false sincerity.

A small smile appeared on his face. "It's okay."

"Am I forgiven?" She playfully offered her hand to him.

"You're forgiven." He took her hand in a surprisingly firm handshake.

Hirudinea hung out with Sejanus often over the following weeks.

They established an easygoing friendship.

She made him swear to keep their friendship secret from Coriolanus, although he didn’t like it.

She didn't need her cousin sticking his nose in her business.

Sejanus came to trust the Snow girl to the point he spoke of his home in District 2 with her. She didn't say much about the topic during these conversations and he assumed it was because she wanted to listen intently. But the truth was she could hardly hold in her groan whenever he spoke of his old home.

‘Why is he reminiscing over THAT when he’s in the Capitol? How ungrateful can he be?’

She didn't abandon her objective of getting into his bed, pushing it as subtly as she could. A too-long hug here, a lingering hand on his thigh there. It always left him flustered.

He was fast developing a crush, and she knew it.

Soon enough, the moment of truth came. Sejanus had invited her to his place to hang out, and would make sure to be prepared.

It was almost time for Hirudinea to leave for Sejanus' house; she just needed to get some things in order.

Tigris was the only one at home and was holed up in her room. Hirudinea was thankful for this since her broken door lock provided no privacy for what she needed to next

She picked up a small foil packet from her lap. It was a condom. Without hesitation, she used one of Tigris smallest needles to poke holes through the protective barrier. She couldn't let Sejanus into her raw just yet; it had to look like an accident when she ended up pregnant.

When she felt like there were enough holes in the foil, she retrieved another and repeated the process.

Hirudinea sat on Sejanus bed.

He was in the kitchen getting her a glass of water, refusing to send an Avox. An act of rebellion against the status quo.

Hirudinea had to hold a fake smile through a brain-numbing conversation with Sejanus mother when she arrived. The woman was kind, but the lack of Capitol urgency made speaking with Mrs. Plinth feel like a chore. Thankfully, the woman had left to attend a party soon after, giving the two some privacy.

The girl dreaded having to hear Mrs. Plinth drone on about baby tips in the near future.

Hirudinea just wanted to get this over with and go home.

So she got up and stripped down to her lacy underwear. It had taken all her savings to afford them, but they would be worth it.

"Sej" She whispered the nickname seductively as he entered the room.

"Here you go..." He trailed off, closing the door behind him.

Sejanus paused. His face heated up as his eyes moved over her body once before snapping to her face.

"Come over here, Sej" she purred.

She brought her fingers to her mouth, twirling her tongue around them expertly. His jaw slacked.

Her fingers dropped to her panties next, slowly working the wetness into her entrance through the fabric.

His eyes were glued to the wet spot on her panties but his face was riddled with guilt.

"What about Hilarius? Aren't you together?" He asked

She freely rolled her eyes since he wasn't looking at her face. Only Sejanus would be worried about another man's relationship when a pretty girl was spread out before him.

"We broke up a while ago"

"I'm sorry"

She had no idea why he was apologizing.

"It doesn't matter. I want you"

His eyes snapped up. He was confused, but she gave him a soft smile, her eyes squinted ever so slightly, and his heart melted.

He placed the water down and moved over to Hirudinea.

Settling on the edge of the bed, He slowly brought his hand up to stroke her shin, moving up to her knee, then back down again.

"I want you too. I-I really like you, Hirudinea. I have for a while now”

'This is too easy'

All the lust gone from his eyes and replaced with something gentler. Hirudinea didn’t need that right now.

She took his hand from her cheek and slowly slid it to her waist

"It's okay, Sej, you can take what you want. I want you to"

That last statement was all he needed.

Sejanus surged forward over her and captured her lips in the most gentle kiss possible. It didn't last long, as she opened her mouth and initiated a deeper kiss. It was wet and hot. She wondered if the sloppiness of the kiss was due to a lack of experience or his need for her. She decided it was the latter when she felt his growing erection against her core.

Hirudinea lifted her hands to his curls, tugging at the strands, earning a deep groan.

He pushed his tongue into her mouth, licking at her tongue, her teeth, anything he could reach. The hairs on her arms stood up as she moaned softly at his need.

His lips moved down from her mouth to the curve of her neck, licking and sucking at her skin until he arrived at the cup of her bra.

He looked up, asking for permission to remove the article of clothing. She nodded, biting her lip.

He struggled for a second but once it was off, he sat back on his heels. Looking at the beautiful woman before him.

He was in absolute awe, and it was making her impatient.

Hirudinea raised her hands to her breasts, squeezing them harshly and moaning his name.

Almost immediately Sejanus reacted, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her onto his lap.

With his height and powerful build, she shouldn't have been surprised by his strength. She kind of liked the way his big arms held her so firmly...

He buried his face in her breasts, nuzzling into her and taking in her scent, before turning to take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue laved over the sensitive spot as he breathed heavily into her chest. Her other breast occupied by his hand which squeezed her gently.

"Oh, Sej" she breathed, leaning into his touch.

"Take off your clothes, baby" she said.

She didn't have to tell him twice. He laid her down, kissing her softly, before rising to pull off his clothes.

She bit her lip as each piece of clothing fell away from his body. His boxers were the last to go, and she gasped when she saw what was beneath them.

His rock hard member was long and wide as it stood at attention, curving slightly to the left. The head of his cock was an angry red and the veins around the shaft were strained with his need.

Underneath Sejanus’ shaft were his large balls, they sat heavily, ready to be emptied. His hair was trimmed neatly.

She knew he was big from the outline in his trousers when he was flaccid but she never imagined this.

She mentally prepared herself to take him, having never been with anyone so well endowed.

It didn't take Sejanus long to grasp the edges of her panties and pull them over her legs, adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

She wasn't expecting him to brush over her clit high his fingers. She gasped at the tingles it sent down her legs.

“I want to touch you, can I?” He asked with a politeness that didn’t belong in the bedroom.

"There's no need for that, Sej. I want you inside me" she said with a laugh.

"Please baby, let me make you feel good" he begged.

As much as she wanted to get to fucking, she supposed she could allow herself a treat.

'I might as well get off since I'm already here'

"Okay, baby. Go ahead"

Rubbing over her clit with his thumb, his middle finger teased her entrance.

"Mmm" she sighed. Pressing her head back against the bedding

After a few more swipes with his thumb, his middle finger began to work its way in. He pushed in as far as he could go, stopping when his knuckles met her mound.

Her back arched up from the bed as his finger brushed over that spot inside her.

Sejanus could help but groan at the way her walls gripped his finger. He imagined what she would feel like around his cock.

Her wetness coated his finger as he began pumping into her core and before long, he added a second finger, stretching her out. She cooed and rocked her hips against his hand.

She moved her hips in time with Sejanus’s movements. Spearing herself down on his fingers. A coil had begun to wind itself in her abdomen, begging to snap.

"Oh Sej, I need more"

He pumped harder, adding a third finger. Wet sounds filled the room.

That was it.

Hirudinea threw her head back, hands squeezing the sheets as she writhed against them, crying out her pleasure.

”Yes, Sej!”

The bliss was so intense her vision whited out temporarily.

As she came down, still letting out soft moans, she wondered why she had never come that hard when Hilarius had fingered her, or any of the other boys.

But she didn't have time to think about that, not when she needed Sejanus’s cum inside her.

"I need you in me, baby," she pleaded.

He didn’t need much convincing. He was aching and ready to burst.

Reaching under the pillow, she revealed one of the tampered-with condoms she hid there and with a naughty expression tore the foil open and slid it onto him.

He climbed over her as she spread her legs wider.

Holding himself up by his forearms and knees, he lined up his cock with her entrance.

“Are you sure” he asked, needing her explicit consent.

“Fuck me, Sejanus” was all she said.

He pressed against her entrance and took his time pushing in. He couldn’t get enough of the way her gummy walls bared down on his cock but didn’t want to hurt her.

The stretch was uncomfortable but she would have to manage. She she brought her legs up and used them to put slight pressure on his hips which spurred him to relent and slide home.

His cock was stuffed into her as far as it could go, making him groan uncontrollably. The feeling of her around him was better than anything he'd imagined.

"You feel amazing," he grunted out.

He didn't move for a second, enjoying the fit. But soon enough, he was gently thrusting.

Hirudinea wasn't satisfied his pace, "Harder, baby" she demanded.

He obeyed and began thrusting hard and fast. He tried to control himself, letting out grunts of passion, but they quickly turned into "oh"s and "ugh"s.

"Does my pussy feel good, Sej. Do you like the way I squeeze your huge cock" she asked with a sexy voice.

"Feels so good, baby. Ughhh"

His upper body fell a bit, letting half of his weight pin her to the bed as he shoved his cock deeper into her pussy, hitting her cervix. His forehead resting against his lovers.

Wet squelching sounds filled the room as his cock went in and out and in and out. Her hands ran over his bare back, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Although she felt some discomfort with the way he was pressing against her cervix, she let out moans at the stimulation to that sensitive spot inside her. No inch of her pussy was left untouched by his thick cock.

Her sweet sounds fueled his relentless thrusts, and she didn't mind. It was actually really hot.

His hands found her knees, pushing them against the bed to spread her wide open for him. This was hot. She could feel another orgasm building within her.

If only her grandma'am could see her now, legs wide open and spilling soft noises as a district boy ruts against her. The old woman would certainly have a heart attack.

Sejanus pulled away from her lips to look deep into her eyes. It felt as if he were staring at her soul.

"Your eyes are so pretty," he whispered. The softness of his voice didn't match his thrusts.

She was dumb-struck. This hadn't happened to her during sex before; it usually came before sex to lull her into a false sense of security. She needed whatever he was doing to stop.

Splaying her hands out on the back of his head, she guided him to look down at where they were joined.

'This will distract him'

It worked. Sejanus groaned loudly as he watched his cock push and pull from her core covered in her slick. He stayed like that for a minute or two, allowing her to enjoy the feeling of his cock scraping against her g-spot, but then the spell wore off of him, and he was looking into her eyes again.

"So beautiful"

He had caught her out of left field. She didn't know what to do, so she pulled him close and buried her face in his neck, breathing in the citrus-y scent of his shampoo.

He was getting there; she could tell by the way his body was stiffening and the way his movements were getting jerkier. She was close too, moans falling from her lips like a waterfall.

"I'm so close. Are you gonna cum, Sej?"

"I'm going to come so hard, baby," he groaned, body continuing to tighten.

"Then fucking cum," She said through gritted teeth as her second orgasm hit her. She cursed out loud, feeling the waves of ecstasy wash over her.

He moaned her name as his end hit him hard, spurred on by the tightening of her cunt. "Fuck, I'm cummin'," he paused, pushing flush against her before beginning to thrust faster and shallower, his rhythm completely lost.

His eyes nearly crossed at the pleasure. Rope after role of cum filled the condom, and Hirudinea smiled to herself, knowing it was leaking into her womb. He moaned loudly.

“OHHHhhhh…”

His arms gave out, and he fell fully on top of her, but she wasn't bothered by his weight. He once again nuzzled into her breasts as his breathing evened out.

"Mmm, You smell good," he murmured.

She gave him a few moments before gently pushing him off and rolling on top of him. Removing herself from his cock, she carefully took the condom off under the guise of helping through the post-coital haze, pecking the tip of his nose before standing up. She disposed of the rubber before beginning to dress.

"You don't have to leave yet; my Ma won't be back for a while,"

Hirudinea cringed at his use of District 2 vernacular.

She hoped their child would never address her in such a manner. She preferred a distinguished 'mother' or 'ma'am'

"I should get home. I don't want to worry anyone"

She was a little peeved when Sejanus insisted on walking her to the Corso.

He had escorted her home before, but tonight, his incessant need to smile like an idiot the entire time was pissing her off.

Walking side by side, the backs of their hands brushed occasionally, sending sparks up his arm. Eventually, Sejanus takes the initiative to grasp her hand in his own, entwining their fingers.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asked hopefully

"I would like that." She feigned bashfulness.

When they arrived the door of the Corso, she refused to let him take her any further, saying, "My grandma'am won't like to see me with a boy this late."

It convinced him to let Hirudinea off here, not wanting to get her in trouble. He did ask for one more kiss though, which she allowed. It was sweet and light.

"Goodnight, Dinea" he said as the door closed behind her.

The journey upstairs gave her time to think about what had just happened.

Her periods were infrequent, only coming every three months or so. So she would have to get pregnancy tested at the hospital. But how would she afford it?

It was only when she reached the penthouse that she realized he had called her by her nickname.

'What gives him the righ-'

The door burst open to reveal an upset Corio.

"Where were you!?" He yelled.

Hirudinea rolled her eyes and pushed past him.

She went straight to her room and laid back on the mattress, picking up a magazine to flip through.

Corio had decided not to let it go and ended up standing over her with his arms folded.

"If you must know, I was with someone" she finally said after a minute of him just staring.

"With who?"

"That little friend of yours, the one from District 2," she waved her hand as if trying to recall his name. As if she hadn’t been screaming it out an hour ago.

"Sejanus?"

"Sejanus! That's the one. We were studying at his house"

"He's not my friend, Dinea. I tolerate him, but you don't, and the last time I saw you study, we were still using crayons. So you should understand why I don’t believe that’s what were you really doing there?"

Dinea stood up at full height and jabbed her finger into his chest. "I don't need to explain myself to you, Corio. You're not my dad"

"I might as well be, since Tigris and I have been carrying your weight ever since we were kids, just because you're grandma'am's golden child. You've never achieved anything by yourself!” His frustration was evident in his voice.

"Is that what this is about? You're looking for a reason to get me in trouble with grandma'am. You're pitiful, Corio," she laughed and walked into the living room. "It's no wonder your mother died trying to replace you; you know, old Crassus Snow probably killed himself in 12 to get away from you too"

Coriolanus' face hardened as he began marching over to her.

She always dealt out the low-blow in an argument.

Tigris came out of her room at just the right moment, "What's going on, you two?"

"Go on, Corio. Tell her the great sin I committed," Hirudinea pressed. She knew Corio would look like he was overreacting if Tigris knew the fight was over Dinea hanging out with Sejanus, whom Corio himself hangs out with.

"Nothing," the young man huffed.

As the family dispersed, Hirudinea called out to the blonde boy,

"Don't worry about what I'm doing. Remember, snow lands on top" she assured.

Part two

How do you feel about Hirudinea and Sejanus? I'm really interested in your thoughts on Dinea and the things she’s doing!

Please like and reblog, if you feel like. Your feedback and interactions keeps me motivated XO

[molly-ghuleh]

Camellia: Copia x f!reader - Chapter 1

Camellia: n. - A flower which symbolizes a deep desire or longing.

Summary: You are a translator for the Ministry. You receive a letter summoning you to the Abbey for a project involving an ancient diary with a mysterious author, but you find yourself wishing you were back home. That is, until you meet the charming Papa Emeritus the Fourth.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: Hi all!! This is the first long-form fic I've ever written and decided to publish, so I hope you all enjoy!! The first chapter is mostly setup and scene building, so not a lot of interaction with our beloved Copia. But there will be more, I promise!!

Warnings: none for now but there will be some in later chapters.

AO3 Link

Prologue

“Will you help me move this box?” the Brother of Sin says. 

Wordlessly, the Sister of Sin stops what she’s doing and maneuvers through the crowded, dusty basement room to help the Brother. The two crouch down, bracing their hands against the box of books. It leaves behind a path carved into the layers of dust as it slides across the wooden floor. 

Once the box is pushed a few feet out of the way, the Sister lets go and, losing her balance, falls to her hands and knees from the crouching position. She cries out in surprise when her hand sinks through the floorboards as one of the slats gives way. The hole is only a few inches deep and filled with dirt and cobwebs, but the Sister’s hand falls onto something softer than wood. 

She lifts her hand to find that there’s a small leather-bound volume hidden face-down in the small crevice. The Sister can hardly imagine how long it has been there, with how thick the grime lies on the back cover. 

This room of the Abbey’s basement had been long forgotten, until Sister Imperator tasked these Siblings of Sin to clear out the room to make way for new storage. They had half expected to find a ruby-encrusted sarcophagus in the room, with how ancient and opulent the Abbey is. So far the only things of interest they have found are books—it seems that the only items stored in the room are books. 

The Sister gently removes the book from the hole in the floor and replaces the wooden slat. Even through her gloves she can tell that it is close to disintegrating. The distinct orange of rotten leather lines the edges of its binding and a few corners of pages fall to the ground. 

“What’s that?” The Brother asks. 

The Sister carefully turns the volume over so that she can read the front cover. It, too, is covered in dust, so she gently brushes it with her hand in order to read the embossed leather cover. Having been face-down in the crevice, the gold leaf illuminating the embossment is preserved and it shines in the low light of the basement. 

“It says…” the Sister squints to read the small letters, “...Elizabeth.” 

“Elizabeth? Who’s Elizabeth?” 

The Sister turns over the book once more. “I don’t know, just… Elizabeth.”

Chapter 1

The ride from the airport to the Abbey is a long one. The car you had been picked up in took you through the city and the suburbs, to the rural outskirts of civilization where the coniferous trees block much of the sunlight. The winding roads, dotted in late-afternoon sunbeams, feel endless as the car climbs into the hills. It’s been a silent ride, and rather awkward (at least, you feel that it’s been awkward) because the helmeted ghoul who drives the sleek black sedan has not said a word. 

You knew that the Abbey has ghouls. A few abbeys do, as they are big enough to warrant summoning help, but your home chapter is not. This is the first time you’ve met one. 

You wonder if they’re all so stoic, or if the driver simply doesn’t have anything to say. He isn’t impolite, but you wish he would say something, anything to make the drive a little more bearable. You want to ask him about the Abbey–what the Siblings are like, what Papa is like. How many Siblings live there full time? How big is the library? You’ve heard that the ghost of a former Papa haunts the corridors, is that true? Hundreds of questions brew in your mind, but the ghoul remains silent and you’re left feeling like an unwelcome guest in a strange country.

You already miss home. 

The Marseille abbey, your home for the better part of your adult life, is a medieval stone structure built on a hilltop south of the Marseille city proper. The ornate, stained-glass windows of its chapel face west over the Mediterranean so that the sunset streams into the room during Black Mass. The walls are old and drafty, and keep faded tapestries in a constant state of fluttering. The linens line the walls of the refectory in between tall, narrow windows which also overlook the sea. If it were not for the inverted crosses and scenes of the unjust fall of Lucifer, one might think the atmosphere in the chapel—and the rest of the small abbey—is almost holy.

The windows in the Sibling dormitories are small and south-facing, with deep stone sills and wood frames that have somehow managed to survive the ages (although they hardly open without a fight.) Your own dormitory windowsill is lined with personal prayer books. Each has about a hundred loose papers sticking out. They are your translation practice, your way of staying versed in every language you know, because you know the prayers by heart at this point. The papers are experiments: which language makes the prayer sound better, sound prettier? Which language makes the most sense? Which language makes the prayers the shortest, the longest? 

No matter which language you use, to you the prayers sound the most beautiful in your mother tongue. That is how you’d memorized them, after all. Yet… you wish there had been room in your single suitcase to take your prayer books with you. 

“We’re almost there,” the ghoul says, snapping you out of your homesick reverie. His voice is deep and softer than you’d expected. There’s no spurt of hellfire from his mouth as you’d half-thought there would be, and no low rumble in his words that might signify he’s more beast than man. The ghoul, despite his bug-eyed mask, seems shockingly human. 

He steers the car through tall wrought-iron gates which seem to open automatically. You can see the tall peak of the Abbey’s bell tower peeking through the trees, and suddenly the reality that you’re very, very far from home hits you. 

You unfold the crinkled envelope in your hands and reread the letter for the hundredth time that day. 

Dear Sister, 

I hope this letter finds you well. 

We at the Abbey have recently uncovered a very important document which we require your expertise to translate. However, this document is extremely fragile and cannot be transported in the post. Papa Emeritus IV and the rest of the Clergy request your presence at the Abbey as soon as possible. 

We expect this project to take several months. Enclosed is a one-way ticket for you to travel to the airport closest to us, from which a car will transport you to the Abbey. We will discuss plans for your return to Marseille when you are nearing the end of your work here.

We anxiously await your arrival. 

Sincerely, 

Sister Imperator

The letter itself is quite presumptuous. Sister Imperator had assumed you were not busy, and assumed that you would be able to drop everything and travel halfway across the world for a months-long project. And then to use Papa’s name to exaggerate the importance of this mysterious document which she hadn’t even disclosed the nature of? 

Well… you can’t exactly say no to the woman who practically runs the Ministry’s affairs. 

The car takes a bend in the Abbey’s endless driveway and emerges into a clearing. Sitting far back on a sprawling lawn is a massive, imposing stone structure. The rows of trimmed hedges and flower bushes do little to soften the gothic hardness of it. Two pointed bell towers loom over the steep roof of what must be the chapel, with stained glass windows stretching up at least two storeys. The central image is of Baphomet, in his iconographic pose. The setting sun glints off of his golden halo. Sweet Satan, you think, your eyes tracking the window as the car rounds the drive. Baphomet alone must be taller than the entire height of Marseille. 

The ghoul pulls the car to a stop in front of the wide steps leading up to wooden double doors. A woman stands there, her hands clasped in front of her and her back straight, like the matron of this grand palace. You suppose she is–the severity of her expression alone leads you to believe that it’s Sister Imperator who waits for you.

You step out into the chilly air and shut the car door behind yourself. The ghoul already has your suitcase in hand and gestures for you to walk up the stairs before him. You wish he’d let you carry your own suitcase, if only to give your hands something to do, but you are far too stunned to ask. Climbing the shallow stone steps feels like stepping into another world. A world in which you feel far too plain to exist. 

“Sister,” The woman greets with a smile. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which squint at you beneath slightly furrowed, well-groomed brows. She strikes you as someone who is all business, all the time. “How was your journey?” 

You return her smile as best you can. She speaks to you like you don’t understand English. “It went well, your dark eminence.” 

She seems a little surprised that you respond so fluently, but she quickly fixes her face into another warm grin. “I am glad to hear it,” she says. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m sure you must understand that this document is very important, and quite fragile. We would not risk losing it in the post.” “Of course,” you nod. “If I may ask, Sister Imperator, what is this document? You did not disclose it in your letter.” You gesture to the envelope safely stored in your jacket pocket. 

Sister Imperator turns to step inside the slightly ajar wooden door and you assume she wants you to follow. The ghoul accompanies you over the threshold, but at the wave of a hand from Sister Imperator, he turns down a narrow corridor with your suitcase and disappears around a corner. 

You are still a bit too overwhelmed to thank him. Instead, you look at the woman beside you. “The ghoul will bring your luggage to a room we have prepared for your stay,” she explains at your silent question.

She continues down the main hall, deeper into the Abbey. Your footsteps echo through the atrium, bouncing up to the high, painted ceilings and off the stone walls. There are a few wooden benches pushed back against the wall, with pots of surprisingly lush houseplants on either side. Framed oil paintings line the walls: some depicting biblical scenes, some of landscapes, and a few large, dignified portraits. You can tell by the distinct Papal paints in each portrait that the subject is a Papa, and you wonder which one depicts Papa Emeritus IV. You’ve never seen an image of His Unholiness before. 

After a few moments of silence, Sister Imperator speaks again. “We found the document last month, in one of the storage rooms in the Abbey’s basement.” She likes to use the royal ‘we’ a lot, you think. 

She continues. “One of our archivists believes that it is at least five hundred years old. It is very fragile, you see, and so we ask that you handle it with the utmost care as you work with it. We would prefer it if you used gloves. And frankly, Sister, I believe that you would want to. The leather is fairly rotten.” You stay silent as you follow slightly behind her. You’ve worked with old, rotten books before. The pages nearly crumble apart in your hands and the leather splits easily, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. 

“We believe it is a journal—a diary, rather, of someone very important in the Ministry’s history.” You find it strange that she doesn’t immediately disclose whose diary it might be. “Who, if I may ask?” “Elizabeth.” Sister Imperator’s voice is clipped as she answers you. She gives no further explanation. Just Elizabeth. 

There are millions of women named Elizabeth in the world. It is very likely that there is more than one important Elizabeth in the Ministry’s history as well. It’s a fairly common name, especially five hundred years ago (if the archivist is correct). For all you know, this document could be some random Sister’s sexual logbook, and documenting her sinful indulgences was her way of praying to the Lord Below. 

You break out of your ponderance over possibilities when Sister Imperator turns a corner to walk down another, slightly narrower (but still wide) corridor. She speaks again. “The book is to be kept in a lockbox at all times when you are not working with it. Under no circumstances is it to be removed from the Abbey library without my express permission, or the permission of Papa. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, Sister,” you answer hastily. Her tone of voice as she lays down the law makes you feel as though you’ve already made a mistake. 

“Now. The reason we need you, Sister, is because none of our own archivists or translators can figure out what language the journal is written in.” 

This piques your interest, and also slightly flatters you. “What do you mean?” you ask.

She releases a long-suffering sigh. “The writing is jumbled. It is a mess of letters and sometimes numbers, with no spaces whatsoever.” 

The possibilities immediately start to stack in your mind. Latin from the Roman era tended not to use spaces, a practice called ‘scriptio continua’. Ancient Greek also did this… but wouldn’t the in-house translators be able to read it? 

“I cannot explain it well enough,” Sister Imperator says. “You will have to see, Sister.” 

The two of you come to another set of large double doors. Sister Imperator pushes one open and steps inside, holding it open for you. You slip past her into a huge, bright room, filled with hundreds and hundreds of bookshelves. Immediately you are hit with the scent of old books and parchment paper, and the gentle sounds of turning pages. To your left sits an ornate wooden desk with one Sibling standing behind it. They are sorting books onto a three-tiered cart, presumably to put them away in the correct order. You accidentally make eye contact, but they smile politely and you respond in kind with a little wave. 

You avert your gaze upward towards the open second floor, which wraps around the large atrium and is protected by a dark oak bannister. A few Siblings linger on the catwalk, carrying books or making their way towards the wide staircase that opens to your right. The bottom floor of the atrium houses several wooden tables where another smattering of Siblings sit. Most other tables are empty save for an abandoned book or two. 

The late evening glow shines down into the room from a large, circular skylight in the middle of the ceiling. There are desk lamps and overhead lights scattered about but none have been turned on yet. 

It reminds you of the University library.

“Come,” Sister Imperator says after allowing you to gaze around the massive library for a moment. “The lockbox is in the restricted section. You will receive your own key while you are here but you are required to return it, directly to myself or the Head Librarian, before you leave.”

She leads you up the carpeted staircase and deep into the bowels of the second floor. Towards the back corner, where the shelves are labeled ‘Fiction - Romance’, there is a wooden door tucked against the wall. A sign beneath its small glass window reads ‘RESTRICTED’. Sister Imperator fishes a rather noisy set of keys from her pocket and finds the correct one to unlock the door. She pushes it open with a squeak that feels loud in the quiet of the library. When both of you are in the room and the door is shut behind you, she removes an identical key from her keyring and hands it to you. “Your copy,” she says. “Do not lose it.” 

The room isn’t cramped, but it is small compared to the atrium. A few single-person desks sit along the back wall, while the walls on either side of you are lined with glass boxes. Each box is shaped similarly to a narrow cubby, and houses a single book. Printed labels on the front face of each box display a box number and the name of the volume stored inside. 

“Your key allows you to access any of these boxes,” Sister Imperator explains to you, “but I do not expect you to require any of them, except for the diary you’ll be working with. It is kept in box number seven, which is here,” she points to a box about halfway up the rightmost column of cubbies. Using her key (still attached to the incredibly jingly keyring), she gently unlocks the box and it glides out like a drawer. 

You step beside her to look down into the glass drawer. The diary is wrapped in white linen, but you can see the faint brown color of the leather through the cloth. “The archivist requests that you keep the white cloth under the book at all times,” Sister Imperator says. She reaches down into the box and gently retrieves the diary, careful not to jostle the cloth too much. “It will protect the leather from further decay.” You don’t need her to explain how preservation works, but you appreciate it anyway. It saves you from having to ask, or endure another awkward silence. 

She places the book down on a nearby table and slowly unwraps the cloth. Already you can see small flecks of brown and orange sticking to it where the leather has rotted, but it seems to be fairly well preserved in light of its age. On the front cover in small, embossed gold letters is the name Elizabeth. 

“Elizabeth,” you say, understanding. 

“Elizabeth,” Sister Imperator replies. “That is the only word we have managed to decipher. Hopefully you will be able to help us with the rest.”

You nod. “I believe I can.” 

She wraps the cloth loosely around the book once more, and returns it to its box. “I do not expect you to start tonight, Sister. We will give you time to settle, and have something to eat. But from tomorrow morning until you are done, this is your sole responsibility. Do you understand?” 

Her sudden, almost intimidating tone surprises you. You bite the inside of your cheek–a nasty habit you’ve had since you were a child. “I understand, your Dark Eminence,” you say with another nod. 

Her face softens, as does her stare. “Please, just Sister is fine,” she says. You follow her again as she begins to lead you out of the Restricted room. “I believe the dinner hour is to start soon. I will show you to your dormitory, and then leave you to get settled.” 

She brings you back through the library and the main hall towards where you’d seen the ghoul disappear with your luggage. The dormitory hall is a long, narrow corridor with windows on one side and doors on the other. Each door is marked with a number and a nameplate, and in between each door are wall sconces lit by incandescent bulbs. Halfway down the hall there is an opening to a stairwell which, you assume, leads up to the second floor of the dormitories. You walk past many, many doors, some of which have two nameplates, until you reach the very end of the hall where there are unmarked doors. Sister finds her keyring again and unlocks one, then removes the key and hands it to you. 

“These rooms here are the guest quarters. They are typically not suited for long-term stays but we have prepared yours to have everything you will need. If you need anything, ask Sibling Superior and they will make sure that you receive it.”

Sister Imperator turns to leave, but then turns around. “You know, Sister,” she says, with a curious look. “For someone of your expertise, I thought you would have been… older.” You can’t tell if it’s praise or suspicion in her voice. “Yes, well,” you stall. How are you supposed to explain that language just comes naturally to you and that it’s not your fault you’re not old and wrinkly? “I suppose once you learn one language, all the rest come easy. Especially romance languages.” 

“Hm,” Sister Imperator hums, sizing you up for a moment. “Find me at the end of the week and we will talk about your progress. I’m sure you will know your way around by then.” 

It seems her well of kindness has run dry.  

~~~

If the loud ringing of the bell didn’t tell you that the dinner hour had started, then the steadily rising sounds of a crowd did. You can hear the murmurs of conversation even through your closed door. A few Siblings emerge from the dormitory next to yours, their chatting and laughing growing quieter as they walk down the corridor towards the refectory. The old wood floorboards creak above you from the movement of Siblings who occupy the second floor. All around you there is an excited bustle, and yet you don’t feel like joining it. 

You have never liked crowds. Especially crowds of strangers. And these strangers all seem to know each other, if the echoes of loud conversations tell you anything. 

But your stomach does rumble, and you feel rather weak from a day of travel, so you decide that it’s best to eat something before you go to bed. Once the corridor seems clear again, you quietly slip out your door (patting your pocket to make sure you remembered your key) and make your way to the refectory. Sister Imperator hadn’t shown it to you but you can make an educated guess as to where it is. 

When you emerge into the main hall, you see a few Siblings occupying the wood benches that had been previously empty. They all hold trays or to-go boxes on their laps. Some speak animatedly, enthralling their friends with stories from their eventful day, while others sit quietly beside each other and eat. You think that it might be nice to sit somewhere to eat so that you feel a bit more connected to the Abbey, but all of the benches are occupied. The ever-growing roar from the refectory does not seem too appealing, either. 

The large room is across the main hall from the library. When you turn the corner you see that it’s not as grand as the atrium, and that it only occupies one level. There are sheer curtains hung over the windows, which allow the sunlight to illuminate the room but keeps it from growing too warm. Siblings, Clergy members, and ghouls alike sit at long wooden tables not unlike those of your home Abbey. But these tables alone are longer than the entire length of the Marseille refectory, and once again you’re reminded that you’re quite far from home. 

No, you can’t eat here. Not tonight. 

There is a long counter stretching nearly wall-to-wall to the left of the door, where a dwindling line of Siblings make their dinner selections. Whatever meal the kitchens had prepared smells delicious but you find that you don’t have the appetite for it. However, close to where you stand in the doorway and nestled in the space between the wall and the counter, are a few baskets of fruit arranged on a small table. The baskets are nearly empty, with the only indication of their contents being the small pops of color peeking through gaps in the woven pattern. 

Despite not wanting a hot meal, you are hungry, and so you enter the refectory and move towards the baskets. You opt for two good-sized oranges–although the bananas do look perfectly ripe–and turn to leave as quickly as you came. Your eyes briefly sweep over the crowd and land on a long table, perpendicular to all the others, situated on a platform at the opposite end of the refectory. The platform isn’t tall, but it is just enough to raise the table’s occupants slightly above the Siblings. The table is entirely composed of men, save for Sister Imperator, who seems to be talking to an older man with Papal paints and long blonde hair–is that Papa?

You look at the others occupying the table, and find that no less than three are also wearing Papal paints. 

Marseille is a tiny Abbey. At any given time, only about ten Siblings reside there at once. And so there is no need for an upper Clergyman to be stationed there. Instead, the Chapter is run by Bishop Beaumont, who (until now) is the highest ranking member of the Satanic Ministry you have ever met, let alone seen. 

So, to be faced with not one, but four Papas, all in the same room, makes your heart thump with nerves. You recognize them all from the portraits in the main hall, but in person they are all so much more… just more. And yet you still don’t know who is who. 

Of course, you know that all four of the most recent reigning Papas are brothers, the order of which was determined by age. The man who Sister Imperator is talking to must be Papa Emeritus I, or Papa Primo, as you’ve heard him called by Bishop Beaumont. The other three look relatively close in age, and so you truly have no idea which man currently holds the helm and steers the ship. 

You realize you’re staring when you make eye contact with one of the Papas. You nearly gasp in surprise, as if you shouldn’t even be on the same plane of existence as him… and yet your eyes met. Of course one of them would have caught you eventually, you think. You were practically ogling them from across the room. 

Hastily, you turn and make your way back out of the refectory and into the main hall. Your eyes fall on the nearest portrait. The Papal paints of the subject match the ones of the man you’d just been caught staring at. You blush as if his portrait could think, and had just caught you a second time. Your eyes flick down to the gold plate affixed to the frame, and read the words. 

PAPA EMERITUS IV.

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 14 | Nora x Hancock

A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

//

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

When Nora thought for sure she was going to die too, the pain stopped – and then there was nothing. Nothing but the emptiness. Nothing but the grief. Half of her soul was suddenly gone forever. She was dropped in the middle of the ocean, drifting among the waves with no land in sight. Then just as suddenly she had been cast adrift, she found land. The hole was filled the moment it had been created. As she gripped Nate’s vault suit and begged him to open his eyes, Nora found herself battling with the horrifying realization that she had another soulmate; that some stranger had taken Nate's place.

//

[ 1 ] <- [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] - [ 15 ]

//

When Nora approached Sturges, asking for help building a water purifier, he wasn’t a whole lot of help. The man was clearly already busy on another project on her approach, hammering away at the starts of a rickety foundation, and Nora didn’t expect him to drop everything and help but she sure expected more than a vague gesture towards his stacked tool box. With a tight frown marring her features, Nora dug through the tool box, sifting through drawers and boxes. She pulled what was familiar; screwdrivers, pliers, a ratchet and its accompanying box of mismatched bits, a wrench, and a booklet that detailed how to troubleshoot generator problems. After gathering her supplies, and avoiding Preston Garvey like the plague, Nora snuck out of town and made her way back to Concord with Dog in tow.

Nora knew how her brain worked, she knew how she retained information, and knowledge, and she knew that if she was going to figure out how to build something then she was going to need to know how it worked first. She needed to see the inside of the mechanism, and she needed to know what it required in order to function. A generator was very obviously not a water purifier but Nora had never been very mechanically inclined; she needed to start building some kind of foundational knowledge somewhere.

So she went to Concord, hoping to gather whatever odds and ends she came across, and find a functioning generator to experiment on along the way. There were generators on the upper levels of the museum, where the settlers had been hiding. They were too heavy to pack to Sanctuary Hills, so unless someone came and took them, they should be available to be gutted in the name of education. 

Once safely secured inside the museum, the doors locked and Dog on watch, Nora began to tear apart the generator bolt by bolt, screw by screw. The guide that she had snagged from Sturges’ tool box didn’t pair with the model of generator she was tinkering with, but the basis of the information was all still the same.  It detailed the basic structure, and it gave names to some of the strange parts inside. After gutting the machine, and documenting an inventory of all of the elements in her Pip-Boy, she started to put it back together; piece by piece, like a puzzle. 

By the time she was finished, her back ached from all of the slouching. Her fingertips were tender, hands covered in dirt and oil, and riddled with new cuts and scrapes. She was tired, thirsty, hungry – but she felt like she had finally accomplished something for the first time in several days. Nora had worked her butt off, and while it hadn’t been a flawless execution, she was successful. She took the thing apart, put it back together, and it still worked. John hadn’t been feeding her step-by-step instructions in that soft, rusty voice of his. As much help as her new soulmate was willing to provide, sometimes Nora needed to figure things out on her own.  

Nora’s relationship with John had shifted into friendly territory. On one hand, it was awfully nice to have  someone to turn to in the middle of this mess, but on the other she knew that she needed to be careful. Though she wanted to hate him with all she was worth, he was so stupidly likable. John was funny, and kind, and he seemed to take all of her emotional baggage in stride. He was questioning, but never prying. Nora had glossed over most of the details regarding everything. He knew that she had been in the vault with her family. He knew that her husband, and soulmate, was killed, that her child was taken… but she didn’t go into details. As much as she wanted to trust him with everything, there were some things that were better played closer to the chest. What would happen if a vault filled with cryopods became public knowledge? That kind of technology in the wrong hands could do more harm than help.

Finished with her project, Nora went to the roof of the museum to get some fresh air. Leaving the building, she was immediately surprised to find how dark it was. She knew she had been working for a while, but hadn’t realized just how long. It gave her a nostalgic feeling akin to catching an afternoon movie at the theater, and leaving after it was well past dark. Nora thought of over-salted popcorn, and fizzy sweet drinks – and then she thought of Nate standing in front of some spaghetti western-esque movie poster, reminding her that he had been deployed with the lead actor for the upteenth time. 

Nora sighed, hard and wistful as she peered up at a cloudy sky. The humidity was miserable, and the air smelled like petrichor. A walk in the rain sounded incredibly cathartic in a way that she couldn’t quite put to reason, but she couldn’t stomach the idea of having nothing dry to change into afterward. 

Glancing down at Dog, who mindfully sat at her feet, she said, “Might as well stay here for the night, huh?”

There was no response beyond a single, small wave of his tail. 

“Yeah,” she said in agreement. “We’ll stay here.” 

Before heading in for the night, Nora took a walk along the roof. While there was an intent to do her due diligence and make sure that there wasn’t anyone – or anything – lurking in the surrounding ruins, the abundant cloud cover made sure she couldn’t see anything . A visual search was out of the question, and instead she resorted to listening. She went stock-still, closed her eyes, and strained her ears in an effort to pick up anything out of the ordinary.

The first roll of thunder made Nora scream, her entire body jolting in surprise. Dog barked. Nora opened her eyes just in time to see the clouds ignite in a violently lurid green. The smell of rain was joined with something that smelled rotten and burnt just as her Pip-Boy began to click insistently. Like some witless side character in a disaster film, Nora stared, unmoving, as another bolt of lightning lit the sky. The Geiger counter kicked up again, then quieted. In her moment of awed curiosity, Nora reached through the bond to John, the man with all of the answers – and she regretted it almost immediately. 

”P-please, Mayor. It was just me!” The voice was desperate, frantic, and not John’s. 

The image of a blade, big and lethal, caught the light in a dimly lit room. Nora watched, stupefied, as she was treated to a first person perspective of John pressing the tip of the knife to the begging man’s throat. Wide, teary eyes stared into hers, begging and pleading…

”Yer breakin’ my heart,” came John’s rasping voice. It was dipped down low, drawling, husky, and absolutely lethal. ”Why you gotta lie to your mayor, huh?”  The knife pressed deeper, blood starting to pebble on the tip of the blade as the skin began to tear. The poor man gasped.

”I’m telling the truth, I swear-!”

Nora severed the bond with a strained gasp, eyes bulging and Geiger counter clicking. The thunder rolled, shaking her bones, and jolting her body into movement. She and Dog retreated back into the building. She felt sick. Nora huddled in the corner of the room that she had spent the majority of her day in. Pulling her knees to her chest, she placed her head between her knees and took deep breaths. The one person in all of the world that she was bound to was a… murderer? A psychopath? Someone who had no qualms with torture, clearly.

And she had trusted him with her life.

Maybe this really was hell.

-

Nora woke early the next morning to Dog sniffling at her face. Poor thing probably needed to go out and do his business. Slowly, she hoisted herself to her feet. She felt weak, and her stomach churned uncomfortably. There was a clammy gathering of sweat along the back of her neck and her hairline. Nora stumbled from the building just as the strength in her legs gave way. Blissfully cool morning air rushed to greet her, just as the ground greeted her knees as she sank to the ground. Dog scampered off to do his business as Nora realized that the nausea she felt the night before was more likely caused by radiation, and not the sickening realization that her soulmate liked to dabble in enhanced interrogation techniques. 

Shifting to her butt, Nora wrestled with her rucksack until it was in her lap. She rifled through the contents until she found a lonely bag of RadAway. By the time she had prepared the IV, she was in tears.

”Mornin’, sweets,” John’s voice had a gently sleepy drawl to it, and then his tone crept up an octave in worry. ”Honey, you okay? You don’t feel so good.”

Taking deep, slow breaths, Nora lined the needle up with the vein in the crook of her elbow. Her stomach gave a gag-inducing churn just as she pushed the needle home. It hurt. She didn’t even know if she did it right. Her fingers fumbled with the IV, the bag and the infusion tubing until she weakly held it aloft to get the fluid running.

”RadAway? Nora, what the fuck happened?”

The saliva in her mouth felt too hot, too sticky. She spit at the ground beside her just before her stomach gave another lurch. Bile spattered on the ground beside her, soaking the leg of her vault suit.

”Nora? Tell me where you are.” Another heave. The vomit felt viscous in her throat. “Fuck, Nora. Nora! Tell me where you are, baby. I’ll come take care of you. I–”

Nora closed her eyes tight. The arm holding the bag up wavered, as she let out an incoherent sob. She wished John away. She didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want to be anywhere near him, not after what she saw last night. 

After drifting in and out of consciousness for a couple of hours in the streets of Concord, Nora eventually came to, to the weathered features of Mama Murphy. The elderly woman was sitting on the ground beside Nora, holding the nearly empty RadAway bag in her hands. 

“Not feelin’ so hot, huh kid?” She said in that airy way of hers, her hazy blue eyes meeting Nora’s while simultaneously seeming to look beyond her. 

Nora’s head pulsed and she closed her eyes. She felt parched, like she hadn’t had a sip of water in a decade. She heaved a breath that was so rancid she could taste it. 

“How did you find me?” Her voice was croaky. 

“DogMeat is very fond of you,” Mama Murphy replied. She was infinitely gentle as she took Nora’s arm and pulled the IV free. 

Nora suddenly felt guilty for the not-so-nice attitude she had met Mama Murphy with. A skeptic on the best of days, Nora had a particular aversion to alleged seers, and fortune tellers. They were all scam artists and thieves that preyed on vulnerable people seeking help. Plying the woman with drugs in exchange for a “vision” was just an added layer to the grift. Nora couldn’t help but think of the way she had scoffed and rolled her eyes when Murphy told her about the creature lurking beneath Concord… and now the woman was helping her sit up, pushing a bottle of (blissfully clean) water to her lips. 

“You watched the lights.”

Nora coughed after a swallow. “Y’can say that.”

“You watched somethin’ else, too.” Mama Murphy knew about the deathclaw, she knew about Nora’s ties to Sanctuary Hills. And she seemed to know about her soulmate. “He ain’t so bad, you know. But he also is. A killer, and a savior – he’d do anything for you though, kid.”

Skeptical Nora suddenly felt curiously torn.

//

Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl / @brainrot-extravaganza

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Fight the Future

OPEN LOT

BLACKWOOD COUNTY, NORTH TEXAS

(@gaycrouton)

Stevie had been looking forward to the summer for the entire school year. No more homework, no more tests. Summer was the reward for all those hours wasted at school. 

But now he was bored.

So bored, that when Cody Newton suggested they go digging in the open lot next to the cul-de-sac. It sounded like a good idea. And it was fun for a little while, but now he was bored. Again.

“It’s hotter than balls out here,” he sighed, pulling the neck of his shirt up so he could wipe the sweat off his face.

“Have yours even dropped yet?” Blake teased.

Stevie scooped up a pile of dirt into the blade of his shovel and tossed it at the older boy. “Shut up.”

“I feel like those kids in that book we read this year. Ya know, the ones where they have to keep digging all those holes to become better people or whatever?” Cody whined as he tried to catch his breath. 

“You mean Holes ?” Chris deadpanned.

Cody nodded as he took a hit from his inhaler. “Yeah, only our treasure’s gonna be so much better.”

Stevie squinted his eyes against the sun as he looked at Blake, who was rolling his eyes. Cody dragged them all out here because his brother claimed to have heard something weird here a few nights ago. He even said the ground vibrated under his feet. While they all knew Cody’s brother was probably stoned when he said that, Cody took him for his word and believed there was something beneath the dirt.

Stevie didn’t have much to do, so even though he thought this was bull, it wasn’t like there were any good movies playing on TV anyway.

He dragged the toe of his shoe against the ground and made a circle against the gritty dirt. “My hole’s the biggest,” he gloated, taking note of the other boys’ shallow attempts.

“I didn’t know you swung that way,” Blake ribbed, throwing a pile of dirt back into Stevie’s area.

“Dumbass,” Stevie grunted. Irritated, he raised the shovel and dug it into the ground with as much force as possible. Only this time, the ground didn’t seem to have as much resistance. “What the—,” he murmured.

When he withdrew the blade, he saw a dark slit in the ground. Using the side of his shoe, he pushed some loose dirt near the indentation and watched as the dirt fell into darkness. “Guys, come look at this!” he yelled, repeating the action so they could see.

Chris made a sound at the back of his throat before taking his own shovel and prodding the edge of the slit, backing up quickly as it widened slightly. 

“What if it’s haunted? Like Goatman’s Bridge in Denton?” Cody asked, suddenly nervous.

Stevie raised his hand to his mouth and started chewing the dead skin around his nails. This didn’t feel fun anymore. He wanted to run and grab his dad to get an adult’s opinion, but he wouldn’t be back until six. None of their parents would. 

As the others bickered, something in the darkness caught Stevie’s eye. A glimpse of something? He leaned forward to try and—

His stomach dropped straight into his ass as he felt the dirt give out underneath his feet. His hands swung wildly, trying to grab onto something, but all he found was loose debris that fell alongside him.

Stevie felt like the ground sucker punched him when he made impact. A gasp ripped through his chest and he choked against the air filling his empty lungs. Suddenly, he’d gone from looking at the darkness to the blinding light as he took in the other side of the, now gaping, hole in the ground, framed by the faces of his concerned friends.

“Hey, Stevie. You okay?” Blake called out.

Trying to appear unshaken, he stood up and tried not to inhale any of the disrupted dirt. “I got— I got the wind knocked outta me.”

“Looks like a cave or somethin’!” Cody yelled down.

He was illuminated enough to see around him, but he couldn’t see much of anything. When he walked around to try and see if there was a wall anywhere, he felt a crunch under his shoe, and when he looked, he saw a crushed bone. But it wasn’t the only one. In the dim lighting, the stark white bones seemed to shine.

He picked up the biggest one and realized it was a skull. His daddy had a bunch of critter skulls around the house, but nothing like this. 

With a smile, he stepped back into the light and held his findings up for them to see. “It’s a human skull!”

“Toss it up here, dude!” Cody exclaimed.

“No way butt-wipe, this is mine. Anyway, there's bones all over the place, man,” he replied with a smirk. There were so many bones down here, that they could all probably take home an entire human’s worth each.

Looking down to examine the skull’s strange translucence, he realized he was stepping in a puddle of oil. His smile faltered as he tried to think of where the nearest oil derrick even was around these parts. But before he could give it any more thought, the puddle expanded around his shoe. It was like the earth was bleeding. 

“What the…”

The skull fell from his hands as pain shot through his spine, causing him to bend over and grab his stomach. His blood felt heavy, almost like he could feel the strain of it moving through his body. The puddle kept expanding and Stevie watched in confusion as it began to fill up the base of the skull through the broken part.

He could hear his friends calling out to him, and using as much energy as he could muster, he looked up towards them. He could see they were there, but only because he could see how their bodies contrasted the blindingly bright light. 

And then—

FEDERAL BUILDING

DALLAS, TEXAS

(@admiralty-xfd)

Four minutes.

The moment he sees the digital readout on the bomb, Darius Michaud knows he has only four minutes to live. It’s a humbling thought. 

“Can you defuse it?” Agent Mulder asks.

Yes, I can , Michaud thinks. “Yes, I can.”

But I won’t.

Agent Mulder appears undeterred, as if he’s actually going to stick around like a fucking hero, when Michaud knows that isn’t going to happen. He’s wasting everyone’s time, including his own, so he gives the younger agent an unearned glare. Unearned because the man hasn’t done anything wrong; in fact, he’s done his job exactly right. He’s done what should have been impossible, what had to be impossible. And now Michaud is going to die because of it.

Agent Scully urges her partner out of the vending room with a look Michaud assumes is the only thing that could have managed it. Then, all too quickly, he is completely alone.

He sits on his useless kit and faces off with the bomb: this inanimate, unknowable antagonist that will end his life in three minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Hello, friend. He can see exactly what to do from here, which wires to cut. This could be over a lot sooner if he wants it to be. But Michaud isn’t here to save lives, unfortunately. He’s here for a greater purpose.

The mission , they call it. It’s always been about the mission. Whenever he hears that phrase from a superior, he knows what it means: to follow orders no matter what. And Michaud is good at that. 

Three minutes.

He pictures the chaos happening just outside this room, how everyone around him had sprung into action, and for a brief moment he’s reminded of what it was like back in the war, when everyone had each other’s backs and were all working towards a common goal. 

He’s surrounded by people who all want to stop this bomb from exploding. To save lives. And here he is, under strict orders to keep that from happening.

Two minutes.

He clasps his hands in front of him, partly because he doesn’t know what else to do with them but mostly because, if he doesn’t, he worries he might just start defusing this thing. The survival instinct is strong, and he knows that as much as anyone.  

One minute.

He hasn’t thought about ‘Nam in a while, but he is now. Viscerally. He smells the rain, hears the explosions, and feels the squelch of mud that crept all the way up his calves. He thinks of his battle buddies, Mike and John, and how neither of them had accepted the deal he’d taken in order to get out. How neither of them had jumped at the opportunity to taste freedom once again, only to pay for that opportunity in sacrifice and loyalty; by subjection to experimentation and tests and uncertainties.

He’s never felt like a coward before. The responsibilities he’s been given and the knowledge that he’s been helping the mission succeed have been enough to avoid feeling regret. 

But he feels it now.

Forty seconds.

He’d known when he accepted this assignment that a lot of innocent people would die. He’d been prepared for the inevitable eventuality. Never in a million years had he expected he’d die not knowing the reason why.

Now, at least, a lot of them will be saved , he thinks.

I’m taking their place , he thinks.

Fourteen seconds.

He wonders what happened to Mike. Did John ever get out of the jungle? He’ll never know.

What will his son think of him after he’s gone?

He leans forward, his head in his hands. He thinks of the kids he’d passed in the hallway minutes prior, how he’d been party to their death sentence, and now he’s going to save them.

Michaud closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to watch this happen. 

He is the fucking hero. Even if he’s the only one who knows it.

BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL

BETHESDA, MARYLAND

(@fridaysat9)

Kyle was from a military family. His father was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Marines. His mother was Military Police. He’d spent his childhood on bases all across the country, playing with his siblings and the other military brats whose lives were just as transient as his. 

Medical school was expensive. Money had always been tight, and Kyle had two older sisters who went to college and put the family in debt without a second thought. He couldn’t do that to his parents, so he enlisted. Uncle Sam would make him a doctor; all he had to do was report and serve… even if that meant spending his nights on an empty hospital floor guarding halls in the middle of the night. 

He’d traveled across the country from California to stand here. It had been six months, and he’d done nothing more than go to classes and basic training, and check identification. Admitting clerk was a very long way from doctor in the field , helping soldiers on the front line. 

Kyle was trying to keep himself alert by running through the log book in front of him when he saw a man and a small woman walking down the hall. He didn’t recognize them, but lots of different people came through this section of the hospital. At least it was something to do. 

“ID and floor you're visiting, please.”

The man flashed his FBI badge and told him they were going to the morgue while his partner revealed her own badge. There weren’t typically a lot of special orders for the night shift, but there was one tonight– and it was about exactly the location that these two agents planned to visit. 

“That area is currently off limits to anyone other than authorized medical personnel,” Kyle said, repeating the official message they’d all been given. 

“On whose orders?” the agent asked as he reached for the logbook. 

“General McAddie.” Kyle had been told of the General's order not once, not twice, but three times at the start of his shift. 

“General McAddie is who requested our coming down here,” the agent said as he scribbled something illegible on the pad. “We were awakened at 3am and told to get down here immediately.”

Shit. Kyle felt his composure slip as he tried to remember if there had been any mention of the FBI. 

He didn’t. “I don't know anything about that.”

“Well, call General McAddie,” the agent said, already starting to walk past, his partner falling into step at his side. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

“I don't have the number,” Kyle admitted. 

“Well, then call the switchboard,” the agent said, turning to face him. “They'll patch you through.”

Kyle studied the man in front of him, trying to assess the situation, but all that did was make him feel more like an idiot. Did he have a switchboard number? He’d never called it before. He rummaged through the papers in front of him, wondering if it was here somewhere and no one had told him. 

“Jesus, you don't know the switchboard number?” the agent asked, and Kyle decided he needed to get help before he got into more trouble. 

“I'm calling my C.O.” He picked the phone up off its base, but the agent stopped him from making the call.

“Listen, son, we don't have time to dick around while you demonstrate your ignorance of the chain of command.” Kyle was frozen, holding the phone a few inches from his ear. He glanced at the female agent who offered him nothing as her partner continued his tirade. “The order came directly from General McAddie, you call him. We'll conduct our business while you confirm authorization.”

The agents started down the hall. Kyle didn’t know who these people were, but the last thing he wanted was to prevent them from doing whatever General McAddie had asked them to do in the morgue. 

“Why don't you head on down,” Kyle called out as he hung up the phone, “and I'll confirm authorization.”

“Thank you.”

Kyle watched until they reached the end of the hall before picking up the receiver. He looked at the phone list in front of him. He felt inadequate, like he couldn’t do even the simplest task without waking someone up in the middle of the night to ask a question. He decided to start by calling the clerk on the floor above him, but no one there had heard of any FBI involvement on the premises. He called the morgue next, but the phone went unanswered. He was starting to get a sinking feeling in his gut. Something didn’t feel right, and as he made more calls, saving his C.O., he knew he had fucked up. 

It was nearly 4:30am when Kyle ran out of options and finally dialed his C.O.’s home number. 

“This had better be good,” the senior medical officer said as he answered. 

“Sir, it’s Lieutenant Murray,” he said, keeping his tone firm even though his body was filling with dread. “I am calling to get authorization for two FBI agents visiting the morgue.” 

“That area is off limits, Lieutenant.” His C.O. said it like a reprimand and all at once, Kyle knew he had been played. 

“They said,” he started, feeling like a child. He cleared his throat and tried again. “They said they were here under General McAddie’s orders.” 

Kyle heard rustling and an angry grumble across the phone line. “Jesus Christ. Call the MPs and get them down there immediately, and Lieutenant? Do not leave your post until I get there. Is that clear?”

Yep, Kyle had fucked up royally. At this point, all he could hope was that it wouldn’t cost him his M.D. 

“Yes, sir.” 

NORTH TEXAS 

(BLACKWOOD)

(@monikafilefan)

He stares wide-eyed at the gaping hole in the fireman’s abdomen.

No… no, no, no!

“It's left the body!” Bronschweig yells as he sprints back to the ladder leading up to the open hatch in the ceiling. This is bad. This is really fucking bad. “I think it's gestated!”

He freezes as a figure darts through the shadows. 

“What's the matter?” his assistant Micah asks. 

“Wait... I can see it.” And it is huge. Its long limbs and bulbous head glistens as it inhales the warm Texan air. The freezing temperature it’s been carefully confined in is now meaningless. It has evolved. “Oh Jesus… Lord…”

The black void of its oil-slicked eyes is endless. Evil lives there.

”Ya see it?”

“Yeah, so much for little green men,” Bronschweig mutters, awed. His hands shake as he pulls out a vial and syringe from his bio-hazard suit. If he weren’t shitting his pants right now he’d laugh at the naïvety that a thin plastic suit could protect him from this monster. “I need you down here!”

While he waits for Micah to get off his ass and help, he fills the syringe with the vaccine’s dark liquid. Sheer dread washes over him when he realizes the bone and tissue that the creature has been ingesting during development is exactly what it intends to consume again. This newborn is hungry.

A noise echoing around the chamber douses Bronschweig’s veins with an icy dose of adrenaline. He twists his head from side to side, trying to spot the creature who’s simply vanished.

Goosebumps prickle his skin. As a scientist, he knows what this is: a predator stalking its prey.

Behind him, a loud, animalistic screech pierces the air. Bronschweig startles, shouting in fear when a massive body slams into his chest, brutally knocking him to his back as needle-like nails swipe across his face.

Bronschweig gasps under the searing pain of scalpel-sharp claws slicing ribbons of his flesh from sternum to stomach. This thing will rip him to shreds. Fighting for his life, he clutches the syringe in his fist and stabs it through the slick, olive-colored torso of the entity pinning him down. A battle cry rips through Bronschweig’s lips as he empties the vaccine into the creature’s veins. It shrieks, lurching away.

Pain. Blood. Shock.

“Oh, God…”

Rolling to his knees, Bronschweig looks down at a gnarled wound on his abdomen weeping dark blood into a crimson pool within his palms. Evisceration. Flayed wide open; like being autopsied alive.

Fuck!

His body throbs to the bone as he lunges for the ladder.

“Help!” His chest is so tight he can barely breathe. “I need help!”

He blinks away tears and catches a glimpse of his colleagues closing the airtight lid attached to his only way out. Piles of dirt cover the bulletproof glass, ominously turning day to night. 

Panicking, Bronschweig starts climbing the metal rungs. 

“What are you doing?” he cries. The deep cut across his face pulls his mouth into a sneer.

Bastards! All of them, selfish fucking bastards. 

He gags as metallic-tasting foam bubbles up his throat and slowly seeps into his mouth and nose. A punctured lung. Christ, suffocating on your own bodily fluids is almost as horrific as being torn apart. 

He stares up in darkness at the dirt-covered ceiling, resigned. The project’s motto runs through his head: progress requires sacrifice. He’d just never imagined it was his life he’d be sacrificing. 

A clawed hand juts out from behind, covering Bronschweig’s entire face in a visceral death grip, yanking him backwards with incredible force and smashing his skull onto the metal floor. 

Bronschweig screams. The creature strikes.

And this is the beginning of the end…

LONDON, ENGLAND

(@gaycrouton)

“Then you must take away what he holds most valuable. That with which he can’t live without,” he stated. This group had been dancing around the inevitable for long enough.

“I presume you mean to say whom ,” the British Bastard countered with a weary sigh.

“Dana Scully,” Spender supplemented, punctuating the name with an exhalation of smoke.

“I know you have a fondness for the girl, but we never intended her involvement to last this long,” Strughold replied. “She should have died in that train car. That cancer should’ve killed her, as intended. Yet, somehow , none of our plans have come to fruition.”

A few of the men in the room averted their gaze. Too feeble to look him in the eye and acknowledge they had become weak. 

However, Spender, the worst offender of them all, stood tall.

“It wasn’t the time,” the Fat Man replied.

Gesturing towards the monitor, now displaying black and white footage of Dana Scully conspiring with Fox Mulder. “When do you think the right time is? When she finally succeeds in helping Mulder destroy a plan that’s been decades in the making?”

“Killing her would be worse than eliminating Mulder,” the British Bastard seethed. “Never mind a crusade, he would become relentless. Who knows how many of their allies would crawl out of the woodwork to avenge her alongside him.”

“She was a disposable little girl and your cowardice has allowed her to become Mulder’s very own Mary Magdalene,” Strughold seethed to the room.

When Conrad Strughold started this organization, he chose these men because they were ruthless. These were the men who kissed their children on the foreheads before sending them to their deaths and would shake each other’s hands to celebrate a job well done afterward. 

Back then, they would sacrifice anything when they had everything to lose, and now, in their old age, they couldn’t handle the responsibilities that came with playing God.

It was pathetic.

Quickly trying to compensate for their inadequacies, the men in the room all began offering lame contributions while Strughold sat back and listened with contempt.

“The man nearly put a bullet in his brain when he found out we gave her cancer because of him, maybe he’d be too far gone for revenge.”

“But I thought we only mentioned the idea of killing Agent Scully to avoid killing Mulder? What’s the point if the result remains the same?”

“Two birds with one stone.”

“Killing them both will raise the concern of that pesky assistant director.”

“He’s far more susceptible to threats than those two. Let me take care of him when the time comes,” Spender shrugged.

“What if, instead of killing her, we merely… put her out of reach, so to speak,” Strughold suggested.

The British one had the audacity to look disgusted. “You can’t mean—”

“He’d want to believe she was alive so badly that his focus would shift to trying to find her.”

“It would be Samantha all over again.”

“Worse.”

Strughold nodded thoughtfully. “That’s good.”

“I’m sure Marita Covarrubias would appreciate having someone else take the brunt of the vaccination experimentations.” The reminder of the blonde’s plight elicited a few chuckles throughout the room.

“No, it’s too close for comfort,” Strughold dissented. “Besides, don’t many scientists dream of going to Antarctica? Let’s allow her to partake in our exciting research experiments there.”

“Are you so naïve as to think Fox Mulder wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth for that woman? He’s besotted with her, for God’s sake,” the Brit proclaimed.

“On the contrary, his fervent loyalty and affection for Miss Scully is what I’m counting on. Pretty euphemisms aside, it would surely take him a long time to find her. Besides, looking at his track record with his sister, we can assume he will dedicate the second half of his life to yet another fruitless endeavor.”

“What does Einstein say about insanity?”

Through a plume of smoke trailing from his lips, Spender spoke up. “Plus, with Scully out of the way, maybe you could ask your colleague to come back and give Mulder some comfort in his time of need.”

Strughold nodded appreciatively, “I believe Diana would be amenable to that. She’s proven valuable to me with our work in Tunisia. It would be useful to have her keep an eye on him.”

“This is ludicrous!” the Brit declared. “I will dispose of Kurtzweil, but I can not stand by and condone this half-cocked plan.” 

The room was silent as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. It wasn’t until they heard the sound of an engine starting that Strughold spoke up. “I presume everyone in this room understands that he only offered to exterminate Kurtzweil to make warning Mulder less conspicuous.”

“Yes, we know,” Spender agreed.

“He’s been working against the interests of the group for a while now.”

“He had to have known we had eyes on Bill Mulder’s funeral, yet he flippantly disparaged the group to earn Dana Scully’s favor.”

“Well, if he wants to be a friend of the family so badly, then I suppose he can follow in Bill Mulder’s footsteps,” Strughold shrugged.

A finality settled over the room as the absent man’s fate was decided. It served as a reminder that length of tenure meant nothing without loyalty.

“We can allow him to be useful one final time,” Strughold mused, staring out the window at the departing vehicle. “Then let his good intentions blow up in his face.”

2630 HEGAL PLACE 

ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA

(@monikafilefan)

“Oh, Trish. It’s my fault,” Theo cries. “I should’ve worked harder to get you the best treatment sooner.”

“Theo,” Trish tsks weakly against his cheek. Tears burn twisted lines down his face that soak the bleachy hospice-grade sheets of her pillow. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for one damn thing. Promise me, my love.” 

“I promise.”

Something soft as feathers tickles Theo’s face, waking him from his dream. 

“Cuddles…” As much as his late wife Trish loved this damn cat when she was still by his side, that’s how much Cuddles is attached to Theo now. Shoving down lingering sadness, Theo scratches the cat’s back. “Whaddya want, furball?”

Cuddles bats the TV remote with his orange paw and the theme song to Theo’s favorite show pops on. 

“Bad boys, bad boys

Whatcha gonna do?

Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?” 

“ COPS ! Good boy.” The cat nuzzles his head against Theo’s hand. “Well Cuddles, who do ya think they’re gonna bust tonight?”

“…But you saved me! As difficult and as frustrating as it's been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over!” a man yells, his strained voice echoing off the hollow walls of the hallway. Cuddles jumps. Theo rolls his eyes. Nothing new ‘round here. “You've kept me honest! You've made me a whole person…”

Theo ignores the noise until he hears someone running down the hall a few minutes later. 

“Damn neighbors causin’ a ruckus.” Theo slowly rises from his recliner as the cops on screen sprint down an alleyway after a perp. “Makin’ me miss the best part.”

Theo looks through the peephole — it’s Fox Mulder from number 42. Of course it is. He’s the only neighbor with a revolving door of domestic disturbances. When Theo flings open his door to remind Mulder that Hegal Place isn’t a gymnasium, he sees the FBI agent’s petite partner, Dana, laying still on the floor, her eyes closed. 

Shocked, Theo stumbles over to her, instinctively pressing two fingers to her neck to check her pulse. The act reminds him too much of Trish in her final days. But the contrast of Theo’s dark-skinned hand against Dana’s bone-white throat tells him this is not about Trish right now. 

“Then hurry, Goddammit!” Mulder screams before sprinting back into the hall. “Theo?”

“You call 911?” Theo asks.

“Yeah,” Mulder nods. “My partner… she’s hurt.”

“What happened? I heard shouting…”

Mulder gapes. “I’d never hurt her. A bee stung her. I—” He runs his hands through his hair. “ Fuck! ”

“Okay, all right, she’s breathing. Pulse is good.” Theo stares as the stunned agent paces back and forth like a caged lion. Pure panic, Theo recognizes. Suddenly he feels a sympathetic wave of fear so painfully familiar it nearly knocks him out of his house shoes. “Look—”

Dana’s breath hitches and Mulder instantly falls to his knees, carefully lifting her upper body over his thighs, wrapping a protective arm around her.

Mulder’s usual tan face is white as snow while his unblinking eyes refuse to leave the woman laying limply across his lap. He’s silent as his trembling fingers gently sweep red strands of hair behind Dana’s ear. 

“Scully…” Mulder’s voice cracks, and Theo fears his heart might just do the same.

He approaches slowly, reaching out to place a calming hand to Mulder’s rigid back. “Help’s comin’. I can hear the sirens already.” 

Which is weird , Theo thinks. Never in his 68 years has he counted on an ambulance showing up so fast. Not that he’s complaining. Theo only first met Dana face-to-face two years ago and he’d instantly liked her. Pretty little thing. They’d ridden the elevator together, introduced themselves, and she was sweet enough to offer to hold Cuddles’ heavy bag of litter. Theo pretended to fiddle with his keys to watch Mulder welcome Dana into his place with a dopey-lookin’ grin and a hand to her lower back. 

Trish would’ve loved to see Mulder cherish Dana the way Theo cherished her. 

“My fault, Scully... shouldn’t have dragged you out there… so sorry…” 

Mulder’s pleas pull Theo back to the present. 

“No, no. Now don’t do that. Placin’ blame isn’t helpin’ anybody. It’ll be okay.” Saying that to someone cradling their sick loved one is a big risk, but Theo knows from experience that simple words of ease can keep the world spinning a little longer. “Ya think Dana would want you blamin’ yourself for one damn thing?”

Mulder tosses him a sad look. “No, Theo. She’d probably shoot me first.”

Then the elevator dings open and a team of paramedics rush through its doors. The medics transfer Dana from Mulder’s lap and onto the gurney in one swoop. 

“Help her!” Mulder orders. “Please…”

Theo feels his back hit the wall as he moves to the corner, his gut churning.

“Can you hear me? Can you say your name?” one medic asks Dana.

Another straps an oxygen mask over her face. “She's got constriction in the throat and larynx.”

“Passages are open! Let's get her in the van right away,” the tall medic shouts when Mulder reaches for Dana’s hand. “Coming through! Watch your back!” 

“You’ve never held me back,” Mulder whispers to an unconscious Dana. “Never been in my way, Scully. You’ve helped me find it.”

Mulder stands frozen as the elevator doors close. Theo slaps a hand to the young man’s back and swallows down his own heartbreak to offer Mulder support he wished he’d received years ago. “Now go show her that.”

Mulder returns an appreciative slap to Theo’s arm before racing down the stairs to meet the ambulance. 

“ Meooow! ”

“Nosy cat, get back in the house.” Theo grabs Cuddles, holds the furball over his heart as he sends up a silent prayer that Dana will be back in Mulder’s arms soon enough. “C’mon Cuddles, let’s go finish COPS .” 

WILKES ISLAND

ANTARCTICA

(@admiralty-xfd)

The weeks drag by at the bottom of the earth. 

They’ve been on the ice for nine weeks now, nine weeks away from home. Delilah knew it would be tough but the perpetual sunlight has been messing with her circadian rhythms for so long she doesn’t know which way is up.

The penguins, predictable as ever, do their thing. Emperors remain inland in tight family groups, struggling to keep warm against the unforgiving chill in the air. Her crew is only here to observe and document their activities, although around week three she began to realize it was just as tedious for them as it is for the birds. They’ve been stationed at this particular rookery since the beginning of mating season, and she’s ready to get the fuck out of here. Why couldn’t I have gotten the gig in Galapagos? she wonders. It’s warmer there and those penguins mate for life.

Delilah decides to call it a day. She turns to her camera operator. “Shut it down, Will.”

Will, confused, raises a brow. “We still have thirty minutes out here.”

“I’m putting on my producer hat,” Delilah replies. “We’re done. Let’s go get some coffee, preferably with some booze in it.”

With a You don’t have to ask me twice shrug, Will slaps the lens cap onto the camera and stands, wiping the snow from his pants.

And that’s when everything happens at once.

First, the penguins begin to scatter. They haven’t done anything like this before, and like any good camera operator would, Will heaves the machine back onto his shoulder and points it at the birds. But Delilah senses something else is up… is it an earthquake? Some kind of tectonic activity? 

There’s an enormous thrumming sound coming from behind her, and when she whips around, she sees something she will never forget for the rest of her life. 

It's a spaceship. An honest-to-god fucking spaceship, straight out of Star Trek or something, gliding over the tundra as smoothly as a hawk.

Delilah’s throat goes dry. She can’t even speak, much less turn her eyes away to see if Will has seen it, too. 

“W… Will ,” she croaks. What the fuck are words?

“Are you seeing this?” Will says, still riveted by the frenzy of birds.

“Do you see that ?” Delilah spits. It’s the only time in her documentary career that she’s known without a doubt she is looking at the more interesting subject. But before Will even has the chance to spin around, the craft —or whatever it was— is gone.

“See what?”

Delilah doesn’t know what else to do. She tears off towards where the retreating shape went, running as hard and fast as her legs can carry her. “Come on! ” she shouts at Will, and her partner follows. “Bring the camera!” She appreciates his obedience in a time when explanations are less than convenient.

They run, as far as they’re able. Will lags behind, struggling with the heavy camera, and it feels like miles but can certainly only have been a few hundred meters when Delilah spots something ahead, what appears to be a dark figure, a clear contrast to the stark white of the snow. Is it some of the Emperors, separated from the huddle?

Will sees them too, and they both slow. Delilah’s insides are burning and she doubles over.

“We ran all this way for a couple rogue penguins?” Will gripes. 

“No,” Delilah pants. He’s never going to believe me. “It was… did you see…”

“Wait,” Will suddenly says. “Those aren’t penguins.”

And as Delilah squints to see, her partner is right. It’s a person, a human person… no, it’s two people huddled together. “Who are they? How the hell did they get here?” And no sooner do the words escape her mouth does Delilah think… what if …?

No. That would be ridiculous.

They creep closer to the pair, their shoes crunching across the snow. It’s a woman clinging to a man, keeping him warm. 

“H-hello?” Delilah calls. “Do you need help?”

The woman turns her head, catches Delilah’s eye. Her face appears frostbitten, her auburn hair wet and windswept. “He needs to get warm,” she says, her teeth chattering. “Please.”

“Scully,” comes a second voice. The man, whom Delilah had presumed was passed out, is actually awake. “Don’t be a hero. You’re the one who needs to get warm.”

Will sets the camera down and pulls out one of the trusty emergency blankets he keeps on him at all times, rushing over to the duo and covering the woman, its metallic crinkly surface reflecting the sun. He goes for a second blanket, but the woman declines.

“No,” she says. “I’ve got him.” She wraps herself together with him, not letting him go. “I’ve got you, Mulder,” she whispers.

“How the hell did the two of you get all the way out here?” Delilah asks the woman incredulously, her inquisitive nature failing to waver.

But the redhead doesn’t answer. She doesn’t seem to care that there are others here, that rescue is imminent. She doesn’t seem to care about anything other than the immediate warmth of her companion.

Delilah can tell it’s taking everything inside Will not to pick the camera and point it at these two, at this demonstration of human resilience and connection far more interesting than a flock of birds. It’s not like they would even notice, much less care. But he doesn’t. So they watch instead, what they’ve come here to do. 

It’s even better than Galapagos. 

OFFICE OF PROFESSIONAL REVIEW

WASHINGTON, DC

(@fridaysat9)

“... the other events you’ve laid down here are too incredible on their own, and quite frankly implausible in their connections.”

Agent Scully sat in front of the table of senior staff, looking worse for the wear after her recent escapades. Jana took in her appearance– the dry skin, chapped lips, little to no makeup– and noticed that the agent’s poise hadn’t faltered in the slightest since their last meeting. Even though, since that time, she had gone back to Texas (and apparently taken a trip to Antarctica). She and her partner, the ever-discussed Agent Mulder, had spent thousands of dollars at the FBI’s expense. Jana had no doubt all of this could have been prevented had it not been for the incredibly rash and irresponsible choices she and her partner had made. 

“What is it you find incredible?” Agent Scully asked, as if it weren’t obvious. 

There was a disregard for the authority of OPR in the agent’s voice, which would have given Jana pause, had Agent Scully’s reputation not preceded her. Jana was aware that she was tough, calculated, and professional nearly to a fault, and while she had been assigned to the X-Files to disprove the validity of the department, she had become a staunch defender of her partner’s work. Loyalty and dedication were things that were usually respected at the bureau. So long as that loyalty wasn’t their downfall. 

They all had their roles at the FBI. Agent Scully’s, though she seemed incapable of accomplishing it, was to provide a scientific eye in her department and stop the hemorrhaging of funds that was coming from the pursuit of cases of an “unexplained” nature. Jana’s job, which was one she took very seriously, was to evaluate the agents in her division, corralling any lost sheep. Her job was to reign in those who had taken advantage of their badge, traveling around the world in the pursuit of answers to questions that went beyond the bureau’s scope or interest. 

“Well, where would you like me to start?” Jana asked, matching Agent Scully’s nonplussed tone that barely covered the disdain she felt for this meeting. “So many of the events described in your report defy belief. Antarctica is a long way from Dallas, Agent Scully. I can't very well submit a report to the Attorney General that alleges the links you've made here. Bees and corn crops do not quite fall under the rubric of domestic terrorism.”

“No, they don't.”

“Most of what I find in here is lacking a coherent picture of any organization with an attributable motive,” Jana continued. She’d waded through Agent Scully’s report– the first person account, the “findings,” and frankly, lack of reputable proof. It read more like a science fiction novel than a government-sanctioned operation. “I realize the ordeal you've endured has clearly affected you. But the holes in your account leave this panel with little choice but to delete these references to our final report to the Justice Department, until which time hard evidence becomes available that would give us cause to pursue such an investigation.”

There was a moment of silence before Agent Scully stood from her seat and walked around the table. She was slight, but walked with purpose, approaching the bench as if she were the one who had called this meeting to order. 

At first, Jana was unsure of her purpose, until she removed a small vial from her pocket and presented it to her. 

A bee. 

Agent Scully stood before her, unyielding and unaffected by what had been said about her report. Jana tilted the vial, wondering if the insect between her fingers could really be proof of the things she’d read or if it was in fact, nothing more than a garden variety honey bee, plucked from the flower beds out front of the Hoover building. 

Agent Scully spoke, then, with conviction that matched her demeanor. “I don't believe the FBI currently has an investigative unit qualified to pursue the evidence in hand.”

All at once, Jana realized that she had lost. As Agent Scully left the room, leaving the men at the table talking amongst themselves while Jana held the bee in her hand, she could see the outcome as clear as day. This bee would have to be investigated. Agent Scully’s claims would have to be investigated. 

And Agent Scully was correct: there was only one department capable of doing so.

She adjourned, and tucking the bee into her pocket. She had other meetings today, more important meetings, and she had spent enough time on this already. Jana gathered her things, slipping out of the room without further discussion. 

A bee. Thousands of dollars and a plethora of outlandish claims came down to a single bee. As she waited for the elevator, Jana removed the vial from her pocket and held it up for a closer look. She hadn’t heard any footsteps, but the strong smell of cigarette smoke caught her attention as a man came to stand at her side. 

“Miss Cassidy,” he said with a sense of authority she wasn’t sure he deserved. Jana didn’t know what his role was in the bureau, but she did know he had tight connections with her bosses. “What do you have there?”

A prickly feeling crawled across her skin as she realized he would get the answer whether it came from her or from someone higher up. What she didn’t know is what he would do with the information. 

“It’s from Agent Scully,” she said calmly. “A bee. From Texas.” 

The man whose name she had never gotten pursed his lips and held out his palm in front of her. “Allow me to take that off your hands.”

He didn’t say why, or what he would do with the small insect, but Jana was aware there was no room for discussion. She placed it in his hand as the elevator arrived. She stepped inside, but he remained still, watching her as the doors slid shut. 

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

[wintermarmalade]

A Name

It waited in front of the window watching all the people go by on the street. It had finished all of it's tasks for the day and was patiently waiting for it's clockmaker, Mags, to return from the market. Anyone looking from the outside might assume it was simply a porcelain statue. After some time, it spotted her messy dark hair in the crowd. It wanted to wave to her, but it knew she was too short to see much above everyone else, so it ran over to the door and waited. After a few moments, she swung it open with a bright "hello" and opened her arms, her doll jumping into her for a hug.

"Did you get anything fun?" It always loved when Mags got something new for it to cook with.

"No, just the basics this time, sorry."

"But what's that?" It asked curiously, pointing at a crumpled sachet sitting on top of her bag.

"Oh just a packet of seeds I found on the ground on the way home. Maybe that eccentric fruit vendor would trade me something cool for it, they like to garden."

"Seeds? Like ones that grow into plants?"

"Uh... yeah? That's what seeds do, silly."

The doll gasped, "Can we grow them?" It asked with a sparkle in it's eye.

The clockmaker gave her doll a sad look. "Trust me, I've tried. They don't do well all the way down here, too much smog and not enough sun. The water definitely isn't the best either..... plus I have no idea what these seeds even are."

"But.... we can try!" It looked at her with a dramatic, yearning expression.

She stared at it doubtfully, trying to resist, but caved and chuckled. "Oh, I suppose we could give it one more shot, just for you." She gave it a playful pat on the head as her doll starting hopping up and down in excitement. "Come with me, let's get the stuff we need together."

They foraged around her workstation until they found an old planter box full of brass bits and bolts and emptied it. Next, they dug into the back of her closet, finding a dusty container full of a grayish mush. "I made this compost forever ago out of used tea bags and ash from the oven, it's kind of the best I could do. It might be okay if we mix it with some dirt and gravel from the alley."

"I thought you said that burnt things were gross." The doll said inquisitively.

Mags giggled and replied, "Definitely gross for me, but it has nutrients that plants like, and it'll make the soil less acidic. The acidity of the ground out there is.... concerning."

*Nutrients? Acidity?* It had so many questions. She could tell her doll was confused, but curious. "Come on, I'll explain more outside." And so they went into the alley together and filled the pot with gravelly soil and makeshift compost while she described to her inquisitive doll the different types of soil and what plants needed in it. Once they were done, they took it inside and she taught it how to water and care for a plant. It had no idea they were so complicated, they looked so simple from the outside. She had her doll place the pot by the window, dig a tiny hole, and bury the seeds inside.

"When does it become a plant?" The doll asked.

"Well, it depends on what it is, and if the soil is actually good enough, but it'll take a couple of weeks at the very least."

"That's.... so long...."

"Yes, gardening requires lots of patience."

"I can be patient!" It assured. It had always been good at waiting for new tasks and holding perfectly still for long periods.

"I have no doubts that you will be." She said with a smile.

~

It enjoyed having the new daily task of making sure the seeds were watered and cared for. It checked to see if they had sprouted yet as often as it could, sometimes staring at the pot in anticipation for hours.

One early morning nearly two weeks later, a tiny leaf had appeared! It ran back into Mags' room and jumped on her bed to wake her up so she could see the amazing feat their seeds had accomplished. It hopped up and down as Mags shambled behind it, still not fully awake. Once she was in view, it dramatically jumped in front of the pot and spread out it's arms, as if presenting a masterwork of art. Her gloomy face lit up when she saw the teeny sprout.

"Wow, I'm impressed! You've done a wonderful job caring for it." She praised as she rubbed her doll's head.

It beamed, "It looks so happy!"

"It certainly does." She said with a tired smile. She wanted to remind it that the sprout probably wouldn't make it much further, but she didn't have the heart to stifle it's excitement.

Over the next few weeks, the porcelain doll continued to care for the sprout while Mags taught it how to tell if it needed more or less water or was malnourished. Their little plant struggled, it was often not as green as it should be and wilted leaves were common, but very slowly, it kept growing. The doll celebrated every time it grew a new leaf, tried not to cry every time they had to trim one that was too wilted, and spent many hours lovingly examining and encouraging it. The plant didn't really do anything, but for some reason, the doll still adored it. It was so small and pretty and it liked the feeling of taking care of something.

After a couple months had passed, not only was it still alive, but it was nearly 6 inches tall and had lots of leaves! Some of them even looked fairly healthy. Mags was bewildered, by all means, this plant should've died weeks ago. She knew that her doll partially ran on magic as well as clockwork, and could only guess that that might have something to do with it.

Another month or so later, they woke up to see that a gorgeous white and pink flower had bloomed.

"It's a flower it's a flower!" The doll exclaimed in wonder.

"It's a dahlia!" Said Mags, almost more excited than her doll.

It gently cupped the flower in it's tiny hands and gazed at it for several moments. It couldn't believe it had helped something so beautiful grow from just a few specks in an old dirt pot.

"Magdeline?" The doll looked at her clockmaker thoughtfully.

"Yes?"

"I think I know what I want my name to be."

Her heart jumped, "Oh? What are you thinking?" She tried to respond with a casual but genuine interest, she didn't want to put any pressure on her doll.

"I want my name to be Dahlia."

A huge smile grew on her face, "That's a gorgeous name! I would love to call you Dahlia! I think it's very fitting for you."

It let out a happy squeak at hearing it's name and jumped into her as she held it tight and spun around.

*Dahlia.*

[speedierthanasubmarine]

I decided to watch helluva boss and imma do 2 separate posts for seasons 1 and two (why did I write it like that…?)

Season one

God I love this show. The writing is way more my speed than Hazbin hotel on Amazon, I enjoyed the writing in the pilot, but once Amazon took over the humor just didn’t really land for me, and tbh the plot took over and I started focusing more on that, and in general I’m more partial to the rapid fire YouTube dry comedy and this sentence is a friggin mess- I found HB SO FREAKIN FUNNY

Dude when he goes “FUCK, a new hole” I lost it

“Just try and sue us”

“We’re rich and we’re hot”

“I can just buy all the things!”

“You should commit die”

“Hehe, Trumpet!”

These are just my kinda lines, I don’t know how to explain it, I was wheezing all throughout the season

The music OH LORD when I say I’ve listened to stolas’s lullabye, lulu land, cotton candy, and house of ozmodius like 100000 times I’m… exaggerating but like you get the point the music here is friggin fantastic I also really like how a lot of the music is diegetic, I think that’s a fun touch. I don’t remember whether this is the case in Hazbin, but in this one it was like… I don’t know, it made sense that they were singing when they were singing… am I articulating myself well? I don’t care, iykyk if not, no prob

The animation is great, Viv loves them spinny shots and I am here for it. The amount of genuinely amazing action scenes is super impressive, and even the chill scenes have a ton of personality

The voice acting might be what steals the show for me, idrk anyone’s names cept Alex Brightman but BLITZS VA NEEDS AN AWARD, also slight tangent but I don’t know what it is with stolas’s va but he sounds a lot like a bird in the same sense that Gary Oldman sounded a lot like a bird in Kung Fu Panda 2, what is it that casting directors recognize in actors that screams bird?! Because both of these men are just SO BIRD DOES ANYONE GET WHAT I MEAN moving on, Ozzie’s voice was also effing PERFECT it slid silkily over me like… silk butter or smtg it was the perfect lust voice, I loved it. Everyone else was also great, but they were extra great.

It was also just so fun? Like in hazbin there’s very little just… shenanigans to enjoy, nothing wrong with that because it’s not that type of show, whereas this season is jam packed with them. Like I’ve heard that everyone hated episode 4, but like I don’t know I loved it😆 I just found it to be good old fashioned chicanery, and I liked the chaos and stupidity of it, made for some entertaining TV. This story engine is just mad entertaining for me.

I also enjoyed the writing of most of the characters (Millie, Moxxie, Loona, and Octavia still leave a bit to be desired imo, but whatever, they can’t all be winners and there’s nothing wrong with them) Blitz kinda reminds me of a Barney Stinson type character, which I really enjoy, and I also really like how his boss persona kinda infects everything he does while simultaneously being what’s screwing him over, his nature is kinda like a snake swallowing its own tail, which is tragic and beautiful, and Stolas compliments him well by being, not an enabler, but… I don’t know a clever way to say this… Stolas is a wreck in the best way and he just works. He’s short sighted, like extremely so, like how he thinks sleeping with Blitz will fill his emotional void so he does it but it just drives them further apart so it’s like he’s in a hole and in order to get out he’s gonna dig to pile up dirt so he can climb out but he’s an idiot and that’s a stupid idea and I loved his whole arc. Very enjoyable stuff drama.

Kinda random but whoever Viv’s foli artist is also deserves an award, the sound effects in this show are pristine and it’s incredible (yes I’ve seen the scene where the gun sounds go off a few seconds too late, and yeah, mistakes happen, but every bone crunch sounds and other stuff like that being so enunciated in an indie show is extremely impressive)

Anyhoo, very fun, very emotional, nice to look at, very funny, yada yada- altogether great season 1.

[its-in-the-woods]

Chapter five, Life's Too Short

Chapter one , two, three, four <- if you missed it.

Cooper howard/The Ghoul x Lucy Maclean

Post end of season 1

No beta.. I tried to edit 🫠

Ninety five percent written just tweaking

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

There will be canonically typical violence and eventually smut. Things will deviate from canon. Angst/fluff, self-hatred so on and so forth.

🚨+18 only - MDN🚨

Slow burn sorta kinda

Please be nice this is my first fic in almost a decade 🫣

Will eventually post on AO3 once I can get access... or where suggested 🤷🏻‍♂️ Like please tell me I am old and don't know things anymore.

“You asshole.” She whispered leaning down to kiss the top of his bald head  “I am not leaving you, I don’t care. You’re gonna wake up.” 

Grabbing a stim pack and painkillers she finally injected herself. The world is fading into darkness. 

***

The Ghoul groaned, a splitting migraine was a hell of a way to wake up. He blinked a few times expecting to find himself outside only to be met with grey and black. He was in a building, blinking a few more times he could see a slit of light from around the doors. He closed his eyes, groaning. What the fuck did he get up to last night, his foot moving to hear the clinking of glass viles. That was never a good sign. Opening his eyes again he tried to take stock of the space. Some kind of military warehouse maybe. 

Flashes of a Deathclaw exploding made his head spin. His left hand went up to rub over the spot where something had hit him. His fingers felt ridges of a good-sized hole that had started to heal over, probably why his right arm was still a little limp. It always took longer for the ligaments and what was left of his nerves to catch up. As he felt the hole his hand grazed over the top of his fingers. Freezing in place he forced his eyes look. Two bloody hands and arms were draped over him almost possessively. He went to push them away only to catch sight of a purple-grey finger. Lucy. Realization hit him as he was resting against her, the feeling of her heart pulsing against his back. She had made it and had dragged his ass the whole way.

Getting himself up proved tricky. The drugs were still making him a little woozy on his feet. Rubbing his face with his good hand he looked down at his companion. It was hard to tell with the lack of light but she looked pale and feverish sweat had broken out across her brow. Looking around he saw a light switch, chances of the lights working were low but he flipped it anyway. A small amount of light blinked on. Had to love fusion cores. It wasn’t a lot but enough for him to get a good look at the women. Crouching down he could see that her vault suit was covered in blood. A lot of blood and it wasn’t all his. 

He needed to lay her down and see what was going on. He eased her down as best as he could with one arm. Her left thigh was full of birdshot, and the top part of her right shoulder had a gaping wound. Getting her wounds clean would be vital if he wanted Lucy to live. He tried the zipper but between the blood and dirt, it wasn’t moving. Rummaging into his saddle bag he pulled out a smaller knife, one usually used for making some ass jerky. Taking the curved edge he ran it down beside the zipper opening it up. Pushing the sticky clothing away from her was tricky, everything kept snagging. Growling he gave up and used the knife to cut the rest of the suit off. It would be useless to her now with all the holes anyway. 

He examined the wounds. The shoulder wound was long and ragged but it would be fine with stitches and some gauze. What was really concerning was the puss-filled, bright red wounds on her thigh. He’d need to dig whatever she’d been shot with out. As he dragged the suit out from her he noticed holes in the back of it, rolling her limp body over he saw that her back was covered in a mapwork of marks. They were just as red and pusy as her thigh. He ungloved his hands and could feel how hot the skin was. 

“Fuckin ‘umb-ass smoothskin’.” Ghoul hissed out. “Gonna end up lookin’ like me.”

He grabbed everything he could, the linen bag full of various meds was also dragged over. He took out a thin metal skewer and the same skinning knife. He cut the rest of her top and bra off so he had better access to the work ahead. At the same time, he hit her with two shots of med-x for good measure. He did not want her waking up while he did this. Torture wasn’t what he was looking to do right now. A non-moving body would be the easiest way to clean up this disaster. He doused everything in some moonshine and began to work. Halfway through the process his right arm finally started to cooperate. Once her back was done he poured the moonshine over the wounds. Grabbing the last stimpak he shot her up with that. Rolling her back over his eyes didn’t stray. Well not entirely. It was hard not to look at the sprawled-out naked women. He licked his lips and went back to the thigh, it had far less shrapnel but it was deeper. Blood seeped out, the smell made his mouth wet. The thought of running his tongue over the wounds made his fingers itch. He grabbed the inhaler and took a puff. 

“Get the job done, fuckin’ monster,” He growled at himself fishing out the next few pieces of debris. 

He sat back on his ass taking a swig of moonshine and another puff of chem. He rubbed at Dogmeat ears, the dog had been watching silently except for a few whines when Lucy would stir. The Vualtie was currently hooked up to some RadAway and covered in several different pieces of clothing. Most of them came off the skeletons that dotted through the warehouse. He needed to take stock of what they had, and where they were. His head spun a bit. He could still smell her blood on his hands. The girl had dragged him across the damn desert after blowing up a Deathclaw. He rubbed his bare head with a clean hand, realizing that somewhere along the way he had lost his hat.

“Should have left me,” He said out loud, still scratching Dogmeat. “What the fuck did I ever do for you to drag me all the way here. Save my ass, again. Stupid girl. Told you to leave me in the sand. Got to start saving your own ass. Cute as it is. Can’t be watchin' you die out there cause of me.”

He looked around the room, saddle bag, Lucy’s pack, the mostly empty med bag, a bunch of empty syringes, and a whole lot of tattered clothes. He had vials, some water, and not a whole lot else. Lucy stirred a bit mumbling in her sleep, they wouldn’t be moving anywhere for at least a day if not more. The Ghoul plus he missed his hat. As silly as it was, he had had it for so long that it felt wrong to not have it. With a reluctant sigh, he got himself up. His right arm still was struggling to cooperate, but at least he had some mobility. He put on a new shirt, slipped his bandoleer over his head, gun placed firmly in its holster.

Walking to the door he opened it, the smell of rain hit him, the sting of radiation tinged on his skin. Storm must have passed over while they were out, at least they had missed that. Looking out over the sand there was almost no sign they had even been out there. If he peered out he could see the edge of the cliff they had run to. He figured they’d probably made a direct line to this building. So if he headed back that way, the chance of him finding his hat and possibly whoever Lucy had pilfered from was high. 

He rubbed Dogmeat’s ears. “You’re going to stay here girl. Watch’er, I won’t be long.” 

The sand was hot as ever, he was still moving a little slower than he’d have liked. At least he was moving. His mind was trying to piece together the night before. Or had it been longer? His hat was stuck to an old dead cactus. Pulling it off he brushed the dust and needles off before placing it back on his head. As he continued to walk he also found Lucy’s shoes. Why she had taken them off was beyond him. Peering back towards the ridge he made out what looked like an upturned cart. Moving that way he came across what was left of the traveler. Bits and pieces of body lay strewn across the sand. Bits of ash were still near the center where a fire must have been. Deathclaw He thought absently, big fuckers were the scorn of the Mojave. Not as many as there used to be, but enough to make them a giant pain in his side. He rubbed at the scar, he could have looked like these poor unfortunate souls. 

Scouring the place he found a couple of canteens of water, and a bag full of dried fruit and meat. Whoever these folks were, they had been well stocked. The wagon was covered in blood and gore, he tangled up some rope. It was always good to have on hand. As he went to go a long call came out of the waste. Standing about a hundred yards from him stood a Brahma. Tail flicked back and forth as it ate some scrub grass. 

“You got to be the luckiest damn cow alive.” The Ghoul chuckled, he wandered over to the creature. Making a makeshift halter out of some of the pilfered rope. “You are going to come in handy.” 

***

The Ghoul slipped inside the warehouse, cow was tied to an old lamp post. If all went well they could trade it when they got to the next outpost. Brahma where not common and often fetched a fair amount of caps. Caps meant lodging, food, and most important chems. 

He sent Dogmeat out to watch the thing, the last thing he needed was their food ticket to get eaten by a roving critter. Walking over he took a look at Lucy, the girl was still pale but not nearly as bad as when he had left. 

She stirred a bit, her eyebrows furrowed together a wretched cough spilling out of her. The Ghoul crouched down at her side. She had gone from being on fire to being cool to the touch. He grabbed the bed roll from her backpack, laying it on top of her. He smoothed the hair out of her eyes, it had grown longer since they started walking. Lucy stirred her eyes looking up at him, those big damn eyes. Her hand slipped from under the fabric and grabbed at his. 

“I am so cold.” She whispered out, her voice sounding raw and cracked. He grabbed her flask of water, it was almost out. He pressed it against her lips and let her drink. 

She coughed again, her hand not letting go of his. Lucy pulled at his fingers, her eyes flickering shut as the young thing fought to keep herself awake. “Don’t be so stubborn.” She choked out trying to meet this gaze. “Please, I need to be warm.”

Cooper blinked at her, his drug-addled brain finally processing what she was asking. He let himself lay down on his better arm. He unbuttons his shirt some so she could lay directly on top of him. It wasn’t like he felt the cold much, but he could feel how cold she was. He moved the material and dragged the Vault-dweller against his chest. Her shuddering breath made him hesitate for a moment before he felt her cold hands wrap around him dragging herself closer. He bundled up some torn-up clothes and stuffed them under their heads. The girl sagged against him humming slightly as she pressed her lips against his scared chest. 

Maybe he had died. The Deathclaw had to have eaten him, or he was still high on drugs or needed more drugs. More drugs could never be a bad thing, right? No way in all the wasteland, in all two hundred-plus years of being on this damn planet did he think he’d have a Vualtie curled up against his chest giving him. Tiny kisses? He did his best not to laugh out loud at the ridiculous situation. Too scared to move and wake this living daydream.

He couldn’t sleep, even with Dogmeat standing outside the door. If he let himself sleep it would mean he’d wake up with her gone. He was a no-good bounty-hunting piece of shit. He had done some fucking terrible things to just about anyone who had crossed him. Fuck, he regularly ate other people. He used the Vaultdweller as bait, cut off her fingers, and sold her for Chems. But as he felt her breath against his chest, her heartbeat with his. None of that seemed to matter. He knew he should slide out from under her, let her rest and recover. But when something good in the wasteland came it was better to hold onto it, even if it was only for a second. 

***

Everything ached, a deep well of ache overflowing like the water she desperately wanted. The warmth she was currently surrounded by helped with that. It was the first time she could remember being somewhat comfortably warm. Even at the hotel, she had not felt comfortable like this. It wasn’t like being out in an irradiated wasteland under the sun. No this felt like being in a hot shower or cuddled under a blanket with hot tea. Her fingers traced over the rough surface of-. Her brain connected the like plugging in a lightbulb. Eyes opened just a crack to see that, yes, she was lying on top of the Ghoul. No, not the Ghoul. Cooper. The man she had dragged across the desert. The man she thought had died because she decided to throw a grenade that she stole from a vendor without telling him. She closed her eyes again. Part of her wanted to stay right here. But part of her also needed to move so that her aching bones would possibly stop yelling at her. 

She opened her eyes and drummed her fingers against his bare chest. In an attempt to gain his attention without him shoving her away. She looked up to see him looking back at her. Those gold eyes were not blown wide like before, they were focused on her. If he had had eyebrows they would have been raised. 

“Warm ‘nough yet?” The man growled his voice rumbling against her. 

She shook her head, biting her lip and looking away as her cheeks flushed. The man chucked his leathery hands rubbing against her bare shoulders. Another lightbulb. She was stark naked. 

“Where are my clothes?” She whispered quietly, almost trying to hide herself underneath the pile of material.

“Had to cut them off,” He said as if it was no big deal. “You soaked them with blood, I couldn’t get the zipper down.”

Her stomach flipped at the thought of him cutting them off. Part of her wished she had been able to see that. 

“Didn’t think you were going to make it for a little while,” When did his voice get so soft? 

“I thought you were dead.” She whispered her fingers, finding the now healed wound. “It didn’t want to heal. I kept giving you drugs and nothing would happen. Thought for sure I had killed you.”

The Ghoul chucked a small smirk crossing his face. “Can’t get rid of me, that easy sweetheart. Pretty sure you blowing up a Deathclaw saved our asses. Was good aim.”

Lucy smiled at the compliment, “I will give you more of a heads-up next time. Maybe you could teach me about what other monsters are out here.”

He grunted a reply shifting slightly. Lucy realized he was probably uncomfortable, she had no clue how long she’d been out. She moved a bit sliding off the man’s chest, she grabbed the bedroll and covered herself as best she could. Cooper groaned a bit, his joint clicking and cracking as he sat himself up. The same crooked smile plastered on his face, it was near predatory. 

Lucy looked down at her bare feet. Damn, she had forgotten to grab her boots. Cooper had stood up stretching his slim body. His skin looked closer to lizards, tight but it still stretched as he groaned, twisting back and forth. She longed to feel that textured skin under her hands again. Instead, the two of them turned away Lucy grabbing clothes that kind of fit and pulling them on. They’d need to get something better at the next outpost. Her jumpsuit on the other hand was completely done. Between mud, blood, and hundreds of holes it wasn’t worth trying to save. Her boots clattered to the floor beside her. 

“Found them with my hat you conveniently forgot,” Cooper grumbled as he buttoned up his shirt. 

Lucy was moving before she thought about it. If she thought about it too long she’d stop herself, right now it didn’t matter. Her fingers ran over his back and he stood up looking down at her. Lucy’s hands came up cup his textured face leaning up on her toes she kissed him. His whole body went rigid. Lucy pulled back his eyes wide. Oh, she had messed up. 

He immediately pulled away from her, his eyes covered by his hat. Lucy went to move towards him again but he puts up a hand between them.

“Stop.” The Ghoul growls. “It’s just the drugs. Give yourself time to wake up.”

Lucy scrunches up her face and pushes his hand out of the way. “Do not tell me it’s just the drugs.”

She gets right up into his face, forcing herself to stare up into the hollows of his eyes. “You are all I have. I thought you were dead. You giant-t-” Lucy grumbles her fist clenching at her side. “I thought I killed you. And you know what, I didn’t want to keep going. I don’t care what you think of me, or what you think of yourself. But this-” She gestures between the two of them, “Is what we got. We got each other, and gosh darn it. I want to kiss you.”

Cooper looks down at her, his face tight as she stares him down. “You don’t want this Lucy. I am glad you’re alive. But you don’t want this. I am no good, I’ve been around longer than most have been alive. I’ve done things that would make you want to put a bullet between my-"

“Fuck you.” Lucy spits, she can see his shock at the curse. “I killed four men saving you, and probably an animal too. I didn’t even hesitate, I cut them open and shot them up so that-that thing would eat them instead of us. I don’t give two mating pigrats what you’ve done.”

He looked down at her his face falling at her words. “You should have left me in the sand."

“No. No. You don’t get to tell me what I do or want anymore. I may be some greenhorned Vaultdweller but I am sure as heck not taking any of that from you.”

“Lucy-” He whispered out, she could see he was trying his damnest to hold back.

“I don’t care what you did. I care about what you do right now. If you want I will leave. Go on my own. But you and I both know that neither of us wants that.”

She can feel his body relax, and take the moment to move herself closer to him. Her hands reaching up to cup his face. “You don’t have to be strong with me. ”

His eyes close and he leans against her hand. She can feel how warm he is under her touch, she rubs her fingers over his rough face. It feels more like melted wax than callouses.  Cooper sighs and looks down at her. 

“If you want this-” His eyes scanned her face, looking for some kind of disgust. “I don’t know if I will be able to let you go.”

Lucy’s face breaks into a grin, “I’d like to see you try and keep me.”

Last chapter

-I thought about ending it here but decided to write some smut cause fckit

-I think the next chapter will be the last.. as I have some other stuff I want to play with

-Let me know if you enjoyed it! if you have ideas whatever strikes your fancy

[kokushibouthings]

.

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Pairing: tomura shigaraki x reader

Content: Reader is a streamer, AFAB/female reader, Non con(?), reader is into it, reader has a "perfect" body + not specified eye color skin tone nor hair length and color(?) , readers wearing a medium lengthed pencil skirt, non con(?), Sub reader

Side note: yes, tomura has a finger or two lifted up every time he grips onto something. No asking why I don't bother just putting it in.🤬

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I slightly bite my lower lip angrily at the fact I failed to kill the creeper without it exploding

"Damn it... Now there's a hole in the ground!"

Grabbing the dirt blocks, Not bothering to fill it in and just covered the top in return of chat spamming; "How could you do that?!" "Fill the hole up.." "Cursed."

I scoffed a little confused, "since was not filling up a creeper explosion cursed..?"

I notice a chat, with the same user I always see in almost every livestream I do and repost videos of my livestreams. "It wasn't cursed ever."

I found it a little cute, Having a long term fan always coming onto my streams.. "Thanks for agreeing, AFORP" I always noticed that user even though the chats were honestly a bit fast at updating.

After a few minutes in the livestream.. Almost finished building your minecraft base and a mob spawner farm.

[ AFORP has donated 270 ---- ]

Do you love me?

I listened to the text to speech while half focused on the game, "Sure I do." I replied barely really caring at all not noticing who even donated...as the chat spammed wtfs or stuff like did you get a boyfriend.

After a while, I decide to end the stream after 2 and a half hours. Finally getting to stretch and fall into my warm mattress grabbing my phone. I noticed I was starting to run low on cash and desperately needed to pay a LOT of bills...

Boldly deciding to start an onlyfans, Setting it up overnight before getting some sleep and continuing in the morning...

...

I post the pictures embarrassingly, in hope of getting some cash. Desperate times are desperate needs.

Surprisingly, and shockingly. The first one to comment on the video about my recently updated bio with the OF link was AFORP..

"God you look so fuckin' pretty.. Just wann' rip you apart so bad." I read, Taking it as sarcasm replying to his comment; "Do it." Thinking he wouldn't...

Oh you were so wrong and in for one hell of a ride of your life.

...

..

. (switching to 3rd person pov)

..

...

Your legs were spread apart as his legs were between them, with your hands completely being pushed down against the mattress with his open palms lifting some fingers up making sure to not decay the bed,

As your wildly jackhammering your legs panicking since you're very much aware of the fact he's the one of the infamous notorious villains, He takes his hands away from yours to scratch his neck with one of his.

"Weren't you the one who told me to do this? Why are you so afraid now?" You backed up in the corner of your bed completely terrified for your life.

As he just practically climbed on the bed, Heading towards you. "E ...—eek! What do you want from me?!" You yelled out squirming closing your eyes, knees into your face ready to brace any pain

"Are you fuckin' stupid? A lil' disappointin for my favorite streamer who was apparently fearless to be afraid of me." He grabbed your hand, Forcing you to lay down on your back having him hover over you. You took a bit processing what he meant..

"are you AFORP...? suddenly I'm not so scared of you.." Your eyes looked into his, Confusingly having the most notorious villain wrapped around your finger.

"You should be cause I'm gonna fuck your brains out till you cry and beg." He flips you over having you lay on your chest this time, Grabbing onto your hair yanking it so hard as if hes trying to find out if you're wearing a wig..

"Wh...–what the fucck– stop! Stop! that hurts!!" You cry out already telling him to stop, "How about you be an obedient little slut? Can't believe you're already begging when I only just yanked on your hair."

Slapping your clothed cunt, Having you yelp at his action... As he works his zipper down, shortly before lifting up your skirt and folding it to get a better view of your ass.

"God you look so fuckin' perfect with those laced panties, How about you spread your legs a bit wider?" He lets go of your hair, Making you almost just fall onto the mattress face flat... Luckily you got on your arms.. But.

At this point, you just give in and obey him spreading your legs a bit wide open, if you knew he could practically just kill you within 5 seconds if you disobeyed would you still try to rebel against him? No. exactly.

You look behind you to look at what he's even doing.. "Well If I'm your favorite streamer do you mind going gentle atleast.." He scoffed, "Sure, whatever. That's the least best thing I could probably do for you." He enters slowly, but fuck he was still so fucking rough and painful.

"W—wait don't you have a condom..? What if you'll get me pregnant I don't want to be known as the most infamous villains wife or whatever..." He takes a hand to his neck, Scratching it annoyingly.. "I know what I'm doing. I won't cum inside, happy? Now stop fuckin' talking before I might hurt your dumbass."

You could feel every hot, rough inch and veins of him inside of you. God he was pretty ugly from far away but you had to admit he was a lot hotter in this time close up.. I guess he grew up a little bit. And his hair is longer– wait why do you care about that? Anyway continuing...

sloppily thrusting inside of you, hitting your g-spot every single thrust... Shortly moving onto a quicker rough pace with you squirming against his length..

A few fingers slide down near your velvet lines, rubbing his fingers against your cute little bead "Godd you're so wet, I bet you were hoping for something like this to happen. Just...heelplesssly wat–tching me ...—po..-und you like a whoor...re" Although you desperately tried to cover your mouth with the palm of your hand, low soft moans escaped your lips..

"f.... –fuck..Mmngh, Aa..Ah! ssh —..hiit.." You whimpered, squirming and shaking badly under his touch, A streamer who was apparently fearless ruined in around 4 minutes..

His length abusing your cunt, as a finger rubs against your clit in circular motions consistently after sliding it up and down..

You were already about to have your 2nd orgasm, feeling the same knot in your stomach about to rip as tears dripped down onto the bed sheets accompanied with drool

You could feel him shortly pulling out, releasing it all over your back as you just collapsed exhaustedly..

"Don't worry, I won't just leave you here. I guess I'll help clean you up... Didn't get you to beg at all but whatever" But he ended up doing it only after a few minutes of playing around with your chest and a 2 minute break...

...

You wake up to be alone, with a completely different set of clothes and snacks on your desk.. Confused about what happened. (yea you barely remember anything 🫡)