#whatever right wing hole hes fallen into

[citrusbunnies]

trying to make a teenage boy have empathy is like trying to smack my head against a wall. hes willing to listen to my points which is really nice actually

[redfoxwritesstuff]

The Original Dick (Sinner!Adam x Reder)

CW: Rough blowjob, semi public blowjob, m receiving oral, stalking, reader is a bit craycray Rated: Adult Summary: After repeated encounters with Adam at work, through the hole, you have no choice but to follow him in hopes of finding an organic way to meet again. When you're less of a skilled stalker than you thought, you're faced with the repercussions of your actions.

You knelt on the ground, looking up at Adam. He looked down at you, large black bat wings flexing, a mockery of the angel wings he had once had. It didn’t make you want him any less, though. That’s how you got in this position. 

You had been following him for weeks, wanting him and yet unsure how to approach the first man. 

He had walked into an alleyway and you followed, only to have him round on you. You were far from fast enough to prevent him from getting a fistful of your hair, using it to whip you into the concrete wall of the building. 

The air was knocked from your lungs as you bounced off it, falling to your knees in front of the man you wanted so bad. 

“Why the fuck are you following me?” Adam yelled, pulling his leg back to deliver what would surely be a rib cracking kick only to hesitate as you looked up at him. “It’s you?” 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You crawled closer to him, not caring that the alley was dirty and wet. 

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Adam pointed to himself with a long, thick finger. 

“You’re Adam,” you answered eagerly, small bat wings twitching behind you. You and him both had bat features. It was a sign, you were sure of it. The stars or the gods or whatever it was that made these decisions fated the two of you to be together. You were sure of it. “You’re the first man.” 

“Exactly.” Adam’s chest puffed out slightly even as the rest of him remained tense, “So why the fuck are you falling me around?” 

“Don’t you- Don’t you remember me?” Carefully, you got one foot on the ground only to have Adam reach out, shoving you back with a large palm to your forehead before you managed to get standing. 

“Bubblegum cunt,” Adam shrugged, as if you meant nothing to him. “From the field. It’s been, fuck, like, a year since then.” 

“But you remember me?” You crawled toward him again, not phased at all by the name he had given you. 

“Yes, I fucking remember you.” Adam ran his hand through his hair, disgusted at the simple notion of being seen as he was, a worthless sinner, by someone who had known him in his glory. “What the fuck do you want?” 

“I-” you hesitated, not sure how to word what you wanted. “I wanted to see you again.” 

“Why?” Adam scoffed. “To laugh at me? To point out how far I’ve fallen?” His voice rose, anger at his situation fueling it. “We’ll I’ve got news for you. I may not still be a winner, but this sinner is still the Original dick.” 

“I know,” you whispered, looking up at him. What would he say if you told him you had wrapped your lips around his dick three times this month? Would he be angry?

“Is that why you’re following me?” Adam worked his belt open, hands moving in a threatening promise. “Want to ride the original dick again?” 

“Yes,” you moved to stand, only to have him knock you on your ass again. 

Wide eyes looked up at him, towering over you as he pulled his cock out. You licked your lips as you watched it grow harder, expanding with every beat of his dead heart. Saliva pooled in your mouth as you eagerly awaited having it inside you. 

“Right here?” You tugged the hem of your skirt higher, letting the fabric graze your upper thighs. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Adam asked as he stroked his cock. “I didn’t say I’d fuck you.”

“What?” Big pink eyes blinked up at him. 

“If you want the Original Dick, you better show me how fucking bad you want it. Make me believe you deserve it.” 

“I-” you shuffled forward on your knees, dirty gravel and puddles of water covered your knees, cutting into the soft pink skin. “Okay.” 

Red tongue slipped from between your dark plum lips, running over them as your eyes zeroed in on the dark red head of his cock. Eagerly, you licked the tip, taking in the familiar taste of him. 

Salty pre-cum coated your tongue as you ran it over his slit. You pulled him deeper into your mouth with every bob of your head. Eagerly, you sucked him into the back of your throat. You realized after a few moments that you finally had your wish. You could reach out and touch him. 

Reaching up, you rested your palms on his thighs. Strong, thick muscles flexed and bunched slightly as his hips twitched. You swallowed around him before backing off his cock with a pop. Eyes locked together as he watched you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, tilting him up.

Being able to properly feel him was intoxicating. You ran your tongue over the thick vein that wound its way over the length of his shaft. The feel of it pulsing under your tongue drew a moan from your throat.

Saliva pooled in your mouth as you struggled to take him deeper and deeper. Adam’s hand wrapped around your horn, pulling your face closer while you struggled to gasp for air. 

It spilled from your lips, running down your chin as you looked up at him. It was hell. You were already dead, so what if you couldn’t breathe? Each breath was hard won, a gargled gasp of air followed by a deep moan as you swallowed around his cock. 

Fingers wrapped around his shaft, working over what you couldn’t take into your mouth. Every bob of your head took him to the back of your throat, pushing deeper and deeper. 

Your hand traveled down your body, pulling your skirt up. Just as you pushed your panties aside, Adam thrust harshly into your throat. The powerful thrust surprised you, leaving you no choice but to take all of his length, even as you nearly were knocked off balance. 

“Did I fucking say you could touch yourself?” 

“Ugh” you struggled to answer around the cock that thrust into your throat again and again. He did not let up until your hand pulled away, letting your skirt fall and returned to his though. 

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” Adam’s hips stilled, letting you again take control of the pace. You worked yourself over his length, moaning at the taste of his precum on your tongue as it leaked from him in a steady stream. 

“Please,” you begged, as he pulled back enough for his cock to fall from your aching mouth. You stroked him, running your hand up and down his slippery shaft, not sparing a moment to wipe the saliva from your face. “Please, fuck me.” 

“Why should I?” Adam asked, flush high on his cheeks but otherwise looking painfully unbothered. 

“I want your cock,” you pleaded. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the extermination. I dream of it. I think about it when I’m fucking others. I pretend it’s your cock.” 

“No,” Adam said simply, shoving your head back down on his cock as he thrust harshly into your mouth. Tears ran down your face as he hit the back of your throat again and again. The pace grew wild, leaving you little choice but to hold on to his thighs and try to fight off the black encroaching on your vision. 

He moaned deeply as he chased his release, seed exploding from him in hot ropes that splashed the mach of your throat. There was no choice but to swallow what he gave you. It was a task you failed at, the bulbus head of his cock pulling his essence from the back of your throat toward your lips as he continued his thrusts. 

It dribbled down your chin, mixing with saliva. White drops gathered on the sweater you wore. 

He fucked into your mouth again and again, not slowing into the throbbing pulses of his release slowed. Even then, he was still shooting short spurts of seed through the air as he pulled you off of him, throwing you back onto the wet ground as if you were nothing more than trash. 

He watched you as you gasped for air. At one time, he had thanked you for letting him fuck through the heat of the stupid hell flowers but he was a changed man now. He wouldn’t thank his stalker a second time for letting him use her.

“Stop following me,” Adam ordered, shoving his softening cock back into his pants. He fastened the buckle of his belt as he stepped onto the sidewalk again, leaving you alone with the taste of him still on your lips. 

“Never,” you whispered. “We’re meant to be.” 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[kittenfangirl20]

Alternative Snow White Au

This takes place after Adam fell to Hell and him and Lucifer have patched things up a bit and are dancing around their feelings for each other.

Sera learns that up in heaven that Adam is alive. But that is a bad thing because he knows the secrets of the inner workings of heaven and extermination and what happens to disobedient angels.

-

Sera: You’re sure that he is alive?

Jay: I saw him for myself Sera. Adam is alive in Hell with the King at his daughters hotel.

That would not end well. She needed to find a way to fix this.

Sera: Thank you. I will take care of this.

Jay left and Sera went to the secret room in her office. As she walked into the room she passed rows of wings and halos on the wall. At the very end was a halo with no wings.

The plaque read: Adam.

-

Down in Hell Adam was attending one of Charlie’s lessons. Lucifer was sitting on the other end of the couch stealing glances at the fallen angel.

He had just earned Adams trust back and he didn’t want to mess it up again. He loved him but was worried that his feelings were not returned.

Little did he know Adam felt the same.

*Adam watched Lucifer from the edges of his sight, one of the few things he liked about being in Hell was being so close to Lucifer, his Luci, they were basically back to how they were in Eden, very close friends, but Adam wanted more, he wanted love that people wrote songs about, but he had to take what he could get*

Charlie: Also we have a little party to celebrate Adam doing so well for his first month here.

*Adam blushed a little, he didn’t think he would get along with the Princess of Hell so well after they butted heads so much the last half year*

Charlie: We made Adam’s favorite dishes of ribs, baked potatoes which you can fix however you want to, red velvet cake, and dad even made pancakes.

*the group set everything up and were allowed to serve themselves, when Adam was reaching towards a plate his hand and Lucifer’s hand met which caused both men to blush*

Lucifer: So for your month anniversary I would like to take you to Lu Lu World where you can do whatever you want to.

Adam: That sounds fucking awesome.

*after the party which went pretty late into the night, Adam started to go up to his room and he noticed Angel Dust following, Adam grew to really like the spider Sinner and saw him as a friend, but he wondered what Angel Dust wanted*

Angel Dust: So what are you going to wear on your date?

Adam: I don’t think that Luci sees what we are tomorrow as a date. But I guess I am going to wear something like this.

*Adam had on a shirt of a metal band he liked and some jeans with holes in the knees*

Angel Dust: I am not going to let one of my best friends go on a date looking like that, when you get married to Hell’s favorite short king and are pregnant with his babies, you will thank you.

Adam: I really regret telling you that I became intersex when I fell and just recently got over my first period.

Angel Dust: Wait right here and we can try out some outfits that will make you sexy in your room, it could be like a slumber party.

*Angel Dust ran off to get some clothes and makeup for Adam to try*

Adam internally: I guess there is no harm in trying this out and seeing what Luci thinks.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[sunstone-smiles]

The Ferocious Tiger and the Curious Spider

Author’s Note: I recently watched Across the Spider-Verse and have officially fallen down the Miguel O’Hara rabbit hole, Lol. I saw a few things comparing him to a cat, and a few days before I saw the movie I visited my friend that has kittens, which eventually led to me thinking about this popular surprised kitty video that became one of the bases of writing this, which I also directly reference in the fic! I hope you enjoy! 

(Also: This will most likely be my one and only Spider-Verse fic. I know the bare minimum when it comes to Marvel and Spider-Man, so forgive me if anything may be incorrect! I just had an urge to write for Miguel, Lol.)

Series: Across the Spider-Verse

Characters: Miguel O’Hara and Peter B. Parker

Word count: 2,095

Summary: Miguel has to finish a report with a disruptive Peter. That is, until Peter mistakenly discovers a fact about the ferocious leader of the Spider-Society that causes an even bigger, but giggly, distraction from their work. Enjoy!

—

Miguel types away at his virtual floating screens while he writes his report about the new anomaly that was successfully captured. Another Vulture from a different world, Earth-468, had broken through the dimensional barrier. Unlike other Vultures the Spider-Society fought before, this one had real feathered wings instead of mechanical ones, making the villain even harder to catch due to their increased maneuverability. And, unfortunately, Miguel needed to call for backup…again. As luck would have it, he was sent his, essentially, counter opposite to finish the fight with him. Great.

A boyish laugh from behind Miguel throws off his thought process. He tightens his fingers in annoyance and growls under his breath. He glares over his shoulder to see Peter B. Parker in his pink robe, sitting on a nearby desk with his legs dangling off the edge and his eyes glued to the screen of his phone. The other man is unaccompanied by his small child he usually has protectively strapped to his chest.

Peter erupts into disruptive laughter again at whatever moving picture is on his device, further driving Miguel’s patience through a wall.

“Do you have to be so noisy back there?” Miguel snarls and tries to refocus on his work.

Peter reels in his laughter, even whipping a joyful tear from his eye. “Ohoho, sorry Miguel. I’m just trying to keep myself occupied while watching these hilarious cat videos.” Peter jumps up from the desk to lean over Miguel’s shoulder and shove the phone in his face. “Here! Watch this one!”

“Parker!” Miguel nearly smacks the device away, “I’m busy!”

Peter retracts his hand. “Alright then, maybe later.” He then returns to his seat on the desk behind Miguel.

A rumble of frustration is heard from Miguel’s throat. “You’re lucky you need to be here with me to finish this report…” Miguel swipes a finger at one of his floating monitors. “And haven’t you watched enough cat videos already? You shoved that screen in my face to show me one and I got thrown into a wall—twice.”

“I need to find more to show Mayday,” Peter starts to gush about his daughter, “Her laugh is so cute when she watches them. They’re funny!”

“Not when you’re in the middle of a fight!”

“Hey, you’ve got to take a break to laugh every now and then, right?” Peter ends his statement with a head tilt and a smile toward Miguel.

Miguel rolls his eyes and tries to return to business on his own, important, digital screens. 

Once the room turns quiet again, Peter glances up from his phone. He notices Miguel shifting his shoulders from discomfort, like he’s trying to adjust from something bothering him. Upon closer inspection, Peter detects an object that looks like a small, pointed pin needle poking out from behind Miguel’s collar of his spider suit. He couldn’t believe that he didn’t notice it earlier when he leaned over to show him the video. Peter quietly gets up from the desk and approaches the other man. 

“Miguel?”

Miguel lets out an impatient huff. He refuses to even turn around. “What do you want now, Parker?”

“Hold still.”

Miguel pauses from that unusual statement. “Wha-Ah!” Miguel leaps out of his chair with a visceral reaction and whips around with a growl. One hand clutches the back of his neck, while the other is prepared to attack the culprit.

“Whoa! Relax tiger!” Peter holds out a hand to reassure him. In his other hand, however, Peter holds up a large, shiny, and black coated feather—one that looks similar, if not exact, to a real bird feather. “This was caught in the back of your neck. It must have gotten stuck during our fight with that villain Vulture.” He twirls the feather in his fingers, “I’m surprised it got caught back there, being that you’re wearing a skin-tight bodysuit and all.”

Miguel clears his throat. He narrows his eyes to return to his intimidating appearance. “A little warning next time would be nice.”

“Sorry, but I didn’t expect you to react like that,” Peter places the feather on the desk. “I mean, a feather usually gains that reaction from someone who’s—” He suddenly stops himself with a gasp when the realization hits him. His eyes expand as he looks at Miguel. “Wait,” Peter blinks at the other man in shock. “Miguel…are you ticklish?”

The other Spider-Man quickly scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Miguel then turns back to his work. 

Peter raises an eyebrow. He absolutely isn’t buying Miguel’s unfazed demeanor. A crack in his tough appearance showed when that feather grazed his neck, and Peter is determined to get to the bottom of it. Miguel is purposely trying to hide it from him. Well, not for long.

Peeking over Miguel’s shoulders again to make sure he’s distracted by his work, Peter tests his theory by promptly delivering a jab to Miguel’s side. The other man jolts with a small yelp and a choked out giggle. Miguel twists his head around to glare at Peter, but his menacing gaze shifts into wide eyes when he sees Peter grinning right at him. A little voice in Miguel’s head tells him to run.

With no time to spare, Miguel bolts out of his chair and dashes past Peter. He books it towards the automatic metal doors at the other end of the room; however, a web shot hits directly at the nape of his neck and yanks him backwards to the floor. Miguel kicks his legs and tugs at the rope of web above him as he’s quickly reeled in like a fish. Before Miguel can cut the web with his claws, Peter grabs the back of his suit collar, leaving Miguel immobilized like a kitten being held tight by the scruff of its neck.

“Peter!” Miguel roars and struggles to break free of the surprisingly tight hold of the other Spider-Man. “Let go!”

“So let me get this straight,” Peter comments from above, ignoring the other man’s shouting. “If I try this, you’re going to giggle?” he ends his question with a clawing motion into Miguel’s outstretched underarm. Miguel sputters out another yelp and reflexively clamps his arm down, before raising it back up to desperately swipe and grasp at the hand behind him holding him captive. He snarls through his teeth to keep back the giggles boiling from within his chest. A smile threatens to tug at the corners of his mouth the more Peter scratches at the hollow of his underarm.

“Trying to act tough are we?” Peter asks with a tone of mischief, “Don’t worry, I can fix that!”

In a few swift movements, Peter releases his hold on Miguel’s collar and dives both of his hands to dig into the other man’s ribs.

“AHA! Peheheheter!” Miguel can’t contain his laughter any longer, “Yohohohour gohohoing to pahahay for thihihihs!”

“Eh, your empty threats don’t scare me. Besides, seeing this is worth any price,” Peter smiles above him. 

“Grrr!” Miguel attempts to tear himself from Peter’s clutches, “I’m gohohoing to—AHACK!” but he’s cut off by more of his own laughter when Peter scribbles again into his underarms. Miguel forcefully twists to the side and flops onto his stomach, while Peter continues his attack with squeezes to his sides.

“You’re going to what Miguel? Sorry, I can’t hear you. I think your laughter is muffling your words.”

“Cuhuhuhut it ohohohout!” Miguel demands while he claws at the ground. Peter creeps his fingers back up to the outline of Miguel’s ribs, making the man jolt and wrap an arm around his torso for defense. Miguel, unfortunately, lets out a giggly snort, and he drops his head to the floor, almost as if he was hiding himself from an embarrassing defeat against Peter’s tickly method.

“And miss out on this opportunity to make the leader of the Spider-Society giggle like a hyena? Not a chance,” Peter beams. Miguel tries taking a slash at him from behind, but Peter uses the opportunity to wiggle his fingers into Miguel’s unprotected underarm, causing Miguel to curl up onto his side. Peter follows up by grabbing Miguel’s shoulder and easily flipping the man onto his back, which gives Peter better access to Miguel’s ticklish torso.

Peter grins when he sees a new opening. “Maybe this big cat is so feisty because he just needs a few…” his voice heightens in anticipation, “belly rubs!” He finishes his sentence and strikes at Miguel’s middle to vibrate his hands back and forth across his tummy.

“PEHEHETER!” Miguel tosses his head back with a roar of increased laughter, “Nohohohoho!!!” The bigger man bats and tugs at Peter’s wrists to yank himself away from the devious fingers, but Peter easily has the advantage to keep scribbling at the soft spot that is his stomach.

Peter chuckles at the other man’s loud reaction. Seeing this squirmy Miguel reminds him of something. “You know, I saw a video the other day called Surprised Kitty where a small kitten was tickled and threw its paws up in the air. I wonder if you’ll do the same. Let’s see!”

“Dohon't you daHAHARE!” Miguel jolts to fold his middle when Peter scritches both of his hands at Miguel’s belly.  

To Miguel’s dismay, Peter uses a baby voice as if he was tickling his daughter Mayday instead of the leader of the Spider-Society. Peter says the words so fast that it sounds more like the squeaky gibberish of a guinea pig. “Goochie goochie goochie goo!” He teasingly raises his voice higher in pitch when uttering the last word, then lifts his hands away, as if he was playing a tickly version of peekaboo with Miguel.

“Grraah!” Miguel launches himself forward and clings onto Peter’s shoulders in an attempt to shove him away, but Peter quickly dives his hands back towards Miguel’s tummy to repeat the same scritches and coos, taking advantage of Miguel’s defenseless opening.

“AHA! Pahaharker!” Miguel darts his hands down to nab the other Spider-Man's wrists from his belly. Peter quickly slips his hands away again to momentarily halt his attack. Miguel snarls and takes a swipe at him, “Will you—GAHAHA!” but he misses, flops back to the ground, and busts into more laughter when Peter pounces at his vulnerable tummy for a third time.

“Goochie goochie goochie goo!” Peter teasingly repeats. 

“Will yohohou quhihiit thahahaht!!!” Miguel kicks his legs out from behind Peter. He leans his head back with another snort. Miguel’s smile is so big his fangs that he usually keeps hidden are showing.

“What? You can’t handle the spidering of my fingers?” Peter chuckles while he purposely scribbles around the edges of Miguel’s belly, “Forgive the pun.”

A dad joke is the least of Miguel’s problems right now. As much as Miguel doesn’t want to give in to this rambunctious Peter and his uncalled for ambush, Miguel’s strength has all but been completely zapped away with his laughter. The best course of action now is to surrender.

“AHAHALRIGHT!” Miguel squeals through his laughter, “Enohohohough!!!” 

Peter chuckles, “I hear ya, big guy.” Immediately, Peter withdraws his hands, for good this time, to allow Miguel a well-deserved rest. Miguel wraps his arms around himself and lies on the floor for a few moments before rolling onto his stomach and propping himself off the ground with any remaining strength he has left. 

Peter squats down and pats him on the back “You alright, big guy?”

Miguel growls and smacks Peter’s hand away from him. He glares directly at Peter’s face, his eyes snarling, his fangs bared. “Never speak of this to anyone!”

Peter performs a zipping motion across his mouth. “My lips are sealed.” He pauses to change his mouth into a smile, “Buuut I keep no promises.”

Miguel hisses out a huff. Not very reassuring, but at least it’s something.

Miguel then lifts himself back to his feet, while Peter pulls out his phone.

“And enough with the cat videos!” Miguel snaps towards Peter’s direction when he sees the device, “I’ve had enough of hearing about those furry menaces for one day.” Miguel takes a deep breath with a lingering grumble and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Let’s just finish this report and get it over with,” he turns to move to his desk of virtual screens. 

Peter puts his phone away with another chuckle, “Got it. Duly noted.” He found enough cat videos to show Mayday when he gets home anyway. Plus, he can’t wait to tell her a new story he learned today about a ferocious tiger who turned giggly from a curious spider.

[gumnut-logic]

A Sign of Purpose

Okay, this is new fic, but it is weird fic. Since I haven't written for months, I'm going with whatever it is.

So what is it? Well, it reads like the beginning of a new AU. I was reminded of the Soulmate trope today where everyone has a mark somewhere on their body that indicates who they are meant to be with. The traditional idea doesn't work in this fandom very well without the addition of OCs, and I don't have the energy to build a new bunch of OCs right now, so I tried something different. Don't know if it works, but eh, 1500 words of what appears to be some kind of intro to this AU. Don't know if it is worth expanding or exploring, but I wrote something, so yay! :D

I hope you enjoy it at least a little in any case.

-o-o-o-

He rubbed his chest with a wonderfully soft towel. Thank goodness, Scott had taken his advice and really splurged on the quality when it came to the locker room towels.

As to the brand of the towel, he did not have a clue and did not care. As long as they were soft and sucked up water from tired skin.

The mirror at the end of the room blurrily reflected his movements through the steam and habit drew him to stop and take a step towards it, his eyes narrowing on the scar across his left pectoral.

He didn’t know why he did this. It wasn’t as if he expected his Sign to appear. He had lost hope a long time ago.

At least he had thought he had. If there was no hope, then he could just be who he was.

There were a few in the world who had never received their Sign, an imprint of a symbol or icon on their left breast which indicated a person’s ultimate Purpose in life. Most due to accident like his. The scar was old now and in a way more of a Sign than any Purpose. More a reminder of his failure.

He did have to admit that watching each of his brothers gain their Sign when he didn’t had affected him. Scott, of course, had grown up before Virgil, maturity bringing the almost predictable Sign of Flight.

Their parents had been so excited, just after Scott’s sixteenth birthday. The family had celebrated and there had been several excited questions as to what Virgil’s might be.

Their parents were both Stars, both born to reach for space, Dad with wings and Mom with numbers, so it hadn’t been surprising that Scott had aspects of both merging into Flight.

The traditional Reader had been brought in and the new Sign had been examined, interpreted, and aligned with Scott’s interests. The Reader had frowned a lot. Not that Virgil had any experience with Readers, but the elderly man in his carmine robe had muttered about success, challenges, losses and gains.

Scott hadn’t had to do much upon the revelation of his Sign. He had been heading for the Air Force in any case. But it had been good to know his choices were meant to be.

Unlike Virgil.

He sighed and ran the towel down his leg, turning away from the revealing glass.

It was the bruises on that leg that made him grimace, not the long ago loss…

Who was he kidding?

The scar twinged as if to remind him.

He shied away from the memories of losing his mother and the avalanche responsible. He had been lucky to survive with minor injuries.

Just happened that one of those injuries hurt more than the others.

The year that followed was traumatic enough for everyone to forget Virgil’s sixteenth birthday and the importance of that time in his life. Dad had fallen into grief. Scott was juggling the entire family, trying to keep everyone and everything afloat.  Virgil did everything he could to help, but survivor’s guilt and the thought that everything, especially his mother’s death, was his fault, sucked him into a deep dark hole.

His father couldn’t even look at him.

It took Scott finally cracking and a screaming match from hell between him and their father for it all to fall apart. Enough to create a turning point in all their lives and the first shaky step towards recovery.

So it wasn’t until John received his Sign early, that the question of Virgil came up.

John was only thirteen, very young to receive his Purpose, but considering how far advanced he was in his learning, it shouldn’t have been a surprise.

John was Stars, just like his parents. The Reader who visited them frowned at Virgil as he walked past, but nothing was said. The Reading declared John would follow his parents into space, that he would bridge communication across the planet, that he was destined for greatness.

Everyone celebrated. Dad drank soft drink instead of alcohol, but the glasses clinked together all the same and John shone, the centre of attention and, for once in his life, enjoying it.

Virgil slunk away early and spent the next half an hour peering at himself in the mirror, willing the red scar across his breast to reveal something…anything.

By the time Gordon turned sixteen, Virgil was an adult and had comes to terms with his loss…mostly.

It just wasn’t going to happen.

It did affect his life choices. Unlike everyone around him, he had no guide to his true Purpose. His interests flickered back and forth between the arts and the sciences. He loved to paint and play music. But he also loved pulling machines apart and putting them back together. He was handy with his hands and could repair just about anything. He could plan and organise and create. He could do so many things, but he had no idea which he was supposed to do, which direction he was supposed to go.

What was his Purpose?

He had to admit that for at least part of that time, he followed Scott around like a lost shadow. Scott had enough direction for both of them and Virgil willing followed his big brother. After all, what wasn’t to follow? Scott was at the top of everything he did. Academic, sports, socialising…if there was a direction to go, Scott was a good choice.

But Virgil was not Scott.

It came close, though. Virgil gained his pilot’s license not long after his brother, and was a hair’s breadth away from following him into the Air Force.

If he could have. The Air Force did not accept those without a Sign of Purpose. Apparently it was too much of a risk to enlist those not destined to Serve.

There were words, none of them polite, but looking back, Virgil knew he wasn’t military material. He didn’t need a stupid Sign for that. If he was honest with himself, it was simply doing what his big brother was going to do.

Maybe the Sign of Flight had been taken from him by the avalanche?

Grandma had so many hugs for him the day Scott left for the Air Force.

But perhaps Scott leaving was necessary, because it forced him to stop following and work out what he should be by himself.

In the end he chose a bit of everything and the hell to a blasted Purpose.

Looking back, it all seemed so long ago. All the things that had happened since - Scott returning from Bereznik, broken and in pieces. The birth of International Rescue and the Thunderbird that gave his big brother his wings back.

John reaching the Stars he was destined for.

The loss of Dad.

An echo of their father’s Stars appeareing on Scott’s left breast overnight, blurring his Sign of Flight, almost caging it.

Grief.

So much grief.

Virgil straightened and cleared his throat. Even now, a good five years after, it still hurt. Scott had stumbled and it had been Virgil’s turn to juggle the family and support where he could.

Gordon won gold at the Olympics.

Honestly, joyful though it was, it wasn’t really a surprise. After all, The Reader swore he had never seen so many fish in a Sign before. Gords was aquatic life personified.

Until he wasn’t.

So many hundreds of knots worth of speed and a sudden stop did that.

Another hard year. More grief, more challenge. he could have taken it personally and declared his Purpose as one to bear witness to each member of his family going through hell. But since they all were experiencing the same pain, he couldn’t claim any originality or self-centred angst.

But they were lucky. Gordon survived and clawed his way back to health. Some of the fish were now missing due to Gordon’s own set of scars, but as he had so many, the hydrofoil hadn’t got them all.

Plus one scar had warped one of the little fish into a shape Gordon was determined to call shark, so watch out, he had teeth now.

Virgil smirked and found himself grinning into the foggy mirror. You know, the mirror that he pointedly hadn’t been looking at.

A sigh. It annoyed him that even now, the lack of his own Sign, his own Purpose, still bugged him like this. He should be over it. Take a bruise or two and claim that was his Purpose, to take a hit while saving people’s lives.

But yeah, it was bugging him again because he still had one more brother who was due to receive his Sign any day now.

As he hung up the towel and started shoving on his clothing he thought about little Allie. Or not so little, because sixteen was tomorrow, no doubt to be followed by a Sign…predicted to be Stars of some kind. It wasn’t like the kid wasn’t begging to go into space every moment of every day. Stars was pretty much a given. But there were subtleties to Signs that needed interpretation…and celebration.

His littlest brother was growing up.

Pulling his t-shirt over his head, he straightened it across his chest, only to have his hand automatically trace the scar through the thin material.

Would he ever stop hoping?

Apparently not.

-o-o-o-

[mondaychildsworld]

I know the end - Joel x Reader

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Part One / ?

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.7K

Chapter summary: reader unexpectedly finds herself face to face with and old friend. That friend turns out to be Joel. He unwillingly accepts to help her, only to find that the situation escalates and they have to flee to survive.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mention of drugs, swearing, gun violence, death of a character, blood and injuries, arguments and some angst.

A/N: Hiii. I'm well aware that nobody will ever read this, I guess. Other than myself, lol. So I don't know why I even write this note. Well, I've fallen down the Pedro Pascal rabbit hole and I'm currently rewatching the whole series with my boyfriend. I guess I felt a little inspired, and I have lots of time to kill right now so it's been nice to get into writing a bit. I have always enjoyed writing, but this is my first ever fanfiction, and english is not my first language so please be kind to me. Also I've only watched the TV-show and haven't played the game so I'm sorry if I get something wrong. Enjoy! ✨

November 14th 2023

You slowly put one foot in front of the other. You’ve been out in the woods for a couple of hours now. The strap of your rifle cuts uncomfortably into your shoulder. It’s cold and you barely feel your toes anymore. But that’s not your biggest problem right now. You gaze up towards the sky, the morning sun fights its way through the clouds. It’s so quiet.

Suddenly you hear the sound of wings flutter in the distance. After a couple of seconds you see the birds fleeing whatever scared them off. You follow them with your gaze, and then drop it to the location they came from. 

You freeze for a second. Only moving your eyes, keeping every muscle in your body as still as possible. In the far distance between a couple of trees, you see something. You start to move, as slowly and quietly as you can. You reach for the rifle on your back the moment you see the little rabbit minding its own business. Totally unaware of your intentions. 

It’s not a big rabbit, but you need it. It will definitely not solve your problem. But it’s food for another day. 

You make your way through the snow, between the birch trees  until you’re close enough to get a good aim. The forest is mostly white, with the occasional black pattern on the birches. This makes you vulnerable, you have nowhere to hide. But the same goes for the rabbit.

You aim your weapon. Take a deep breath. Exhaling as you reach for the trigger. You let a couple of seconds pass. Just as you’re about to pull the trigger there’a a snapping sound of a twig breaking and the rabbit runs away.

“Oh fuck.” you quietly say to yourself as you lower the rifle.

Only to look up to see a man. With another rifle pointing at you. The same second that you see him, your body goes rigid and you grab the rifle once again.

“What do you want?” you ask the man. “Go after the rabbit for all you want, just leave me be.”

The man stays quiet. It’s hard to tell what he looks like from here. All you can see is a muted brown jacket, dark jeans and some silver strands in his dark hair. Behind him is a small elevation of some boulders covered in snow. Behind you, an open landscape scattered with the pale trees. There’s no chance you can outrun him here. There’s no place to hide behind the birches. 

“Why are you out here?” the man asks and you let out a sigh. He seems to be very much living and breathing. But you just have to ask.

“Are you infected?”

“What the, no…” the man says. “Do I look infected to you?”

“No.” you simply answer.

“Well aren’t you smart.” the man says and sighs and shifts his rifle a little. 

That’s when you see him. You know this man, you’ve seen him before. But you’re so far from home, or whatever you can call home. You shouldn't recognize someone out here. This is far away from everything you’ve ever known. You lower your rifle. 

“Back to my question,” he continues. “Why are you-”

But you cut him off. You do recognize this man.

“Joel?” 

He freezes for a second. But slowly relaxes and lowers his gun. 

“What?” he says. The man looking at you is definitely Joel. You know him. You know him from Boston QZ.

“Joel, do you remember me?” you say. “From the QZ.”

He squints at you and lets a few seconds pass until he says your name. You nod.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story…” you start. Not wanting to share too much.

“Doesn’t we all have a long story.” he mumbles and starts walking towards you as he puts his rifle on his back. 

You feel like you know him. But you actually don’t. He’s never been too much of a talker. He’s not the one who shares his story. Not that you really had done that either. But you knew him. From your everyday life. And you knew Tess. Better than you ever knew Joel, anyway. 

It’s not like you knew him from before. At the time around the outbreak you were living in Chicago with your sister. And you believe Joel was from Texas… right? This just proves how much you know about the man in front of you. Back then there were only you and your sister doing what you're supposed to do in your mid twenties. You used to share an apartment, working in different bars and restaurants while your sister studied for her bachelor in economics. 

Your thoughts about your sister reminds you of where you are standing now, and why.

“I, uhm, actually,” you start. “My sister-”

But that’s how far you get until you get distracted. A tiny head pops up behind one of the boulders behind Joel. He realizes you put your focus somewhere else and turns around. 

“Ellie!” he scolds, while a young girl climbs up on the boulder, looking down at you two. “No, I told you to stay back!”

“Well, if you weren’t taking all day talking to her I might’ve had the patie-”

“No.” Joel cuts her off. “That’s not how things work here and you know it.”

He frowns and looks back at you. It looks like Joel contemplates his options for a moment before he speaks again. 

“Well, this is Ellie.” he sighs and you can see the frustration in his eyes. You can only guess that it wasn’t by choice he got stuck with a teenage girl. 

You smile and tell the girl your name. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Enough with the pleasantries.” Joel mutters. 

“Does she come with us now?” Ellie asks. “Because you two do know each other. I'm not fucking stupid.”

You and Joel both stay silent as you watch Ellie climb down the small boulder covered in snow. The sunshine has reached its way through the clouds now, making the snow glimmer as you watch the girl's feet reach the frozen ground. 

Joel looks at you once more. Studying your face, probably looking for any reason at all to just leave you here as you were, all alone. The sun makes the gray strands in his hair shine like silver and you can’t help but notice the scar on his temple. You have seen it before, but it always made you wonder.

“There’s a lot of raiders out here.” he just simply says, looking a bit concerned. But that expression quickly changes for a more determined one. “But we can’t just pick up strays along the way, Ellie. No offense."

His gaze shifts between you and Ellie for a moment. You decide to try. There must be some sort of fate of bumping into a friend, or even just an acquaintance in the forest somewhere in Nebraska… or? That was also one of your problems. You didn't quite know where you were, exactly. You and your sister had been going north for a while, after you finally reunited in Oklahoma after some time apart. And now you were kind of stuck somewhere in Nebraska. Your plan was to go through Kansas City and make your way up to Chicago. But early on you met a group fleeing Kansas City, claiming there was nothing other than hell in that direction. You never got the details about the situation, other than some stuff about infected crawling up from the underground. So both you and your sister decided you heard enough to change your route and plans. That was before she got injured. 

So, you decide to try. “Please don’t leave me.” you stutter out.

That just sounded pathetic. Great. Your voice sounded more fragile than you imagined it would. But the thought of your sister almost brought tears into your eyes. You quickly swallowed and brushed away a strand of hair from your face. You try again.

“I mean, please, I don’t really know where we are,” you say, your voice more steady now. “We have nothing, Julie is injured and alone right now. If you leave-”

“Julie?” Joel asks, furrowing his brows.

“My sister.”

He nods and sighs once again. 

“Where are you heading?” he asks.

“Originally, to Chicago-” you start but get disrupted once more.

“Well we’re not going that way so I guess this is where we say our goodbyes.” Joel says and turns to Ellie. “Let’s go.”

Joel grabs her arm and starts to walk away from you. But the teenage girl shrugs him off. 

“You’re just gonna leave her? You dick.” She says. Joel stops and looks at her for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna leave her. I have enough cargo as it is.” he says in a sour tone. “She’s a grown woman and can clearly handle herself.”

You don’t feel like there’s anything left to say. You know there’s no point in arguing with Joel. And this teenager he’s traveling with for whatever reason, even referring to her as ‘cargo’, just makes you roll your eyes. You tried. He said no. He doesn’t want to listen anymore. You don’t have time for just standing here listening to them bicker about what to do.

The strap of the rifle cuts into your shoulder once again. You’re reminded of why you’re out here and decide to return to your sister. As you turn around to silently walk away with a sigh you’re surprised as you hear steps following your way. In the corner of your eye you see the teenage girl appearing to your left side. 

“It won’t hurt to be a little helpful sometimes.” she mutters back to the heavier steps right behind you. Joels steps. This little teenage girl apparently got him to, perhaps, do something for another human. And getting nothing in reward. You smile a little to yourself.

“Thank you.” you say, and make eye contact with the teenager. Ellie shyly smiles back as the three of you make your way zigzag through the white forest. 

Julie whines as you gently remove the bandage around her thigh. You can see in her eyes that it hurts a lot. She’s pale and dull under the sweat on her face. This isn’t just your usual gun wound to stitch up and go about your day. You know the injury got infected. You have no knowledge in medicine, you could say. You knew your pills, unfortunately. But you were far from a nurse. And you had run out of your small stash a long time ago, so you couldn’t even ease her pain. 

“It’s just a gun wound?” Joel asks. “Are you sure she’s not bitten anywhere? Not infected?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” you tell him. “Unless raiders shoot cordyceps bullets.”

“Not funny.” Julie whispers from where she lays under you on the floor.

You reach for your bottle of water and try to rinse the wound. Julie cries out and the sound echoes in the empty waiting hall. 

Who would've guessed there would be an actual train station in the middle of the woods. The brick building is old and taken over by nature. It’s not big, but it’s enough shelter from the snow. Some of the windows are broken so some snow has reached inside despite the thick walls. 

“I’m gonna let Joel take a look at you.” you try to assure your sister. “It’s all fine, I know him from the Boston QZ, he’ll help you.” you nod to your sister, stroking her cheek feeling her hot skin.

“Right?” you say as you stand up next to Joel. His expression says something completely else though. The big red spot on the light gray stone floor should also tell you something about the outcome of this. But you’re determined that this will not be the end. The end is not near.

“I mean…” Joel sighs as he kneels on the floor next to Julie. You give him a stern look and he lowers his gaze to the wound. “Sure, we’ll see what we can do.”

You’ve cut open your sister's jeans to easily access the wound. It’s too cold to take any clothes off here. But your sister is sweating and quietly rambles something through the shivers. You force yourself to turn around. This is not the end. You squeeze your eyes shut.  You’ve been in each other's lives since the day you were born. Having a twin has been both a curse and a blessing. You don’t look a lot like each other though. Your parents always joked that they got one kid each. Julie always had a slender build, brown, wavy hair and a face full of freckles. Just like your mom. And you were a spitting image of your dad. Blonde, straight hair with more of an athletic build. 

As you hear Julie whimper and cry out once again you force yourself to open your eyes. On the other side of the train station sits Ellie on one of the old benches. She swings her legs back and forth with a troubled look on her face. Above of her is the rest of what used to be an old timetable for the train station. If the old sign hadn’t been spray painted over with graffiti, you might’ve gotten a name of the station and could figure out where the hell you were. Now it was covered in paint, dust and mold, making it impossible to read. 

“Just stay still and rest, Julie” you hear Joel say. “It’s going to be just fine.”

You turn around to Joel while he rises to his feet again. Struggling a little bit on the way. This makes him look even older. It looks like his back may hurt, and it makes his movements stiff. He mouths something to you and you assume it’s somewhere along the lines of ‘let’s talk’, and gestures for you to step outside. 

You take a deep breath and head towards the big wooden door towards the tracks, pushing it open, blinded by the immediate light from the winter sun. Joel is just a couple of steps behind you. In front of you stands the carriages of an old abandoned train.

“Don’t go anywhere and don’t touch anything.” he tells Ellie before he shuts the door behind you. He turns and looks you straight into your eyes. “Look, I’m no doctor or anything.”

You know where this is going. You clench your teeth together and avoid his eyes. Your gaze lands on your feet covered by your thick black boots. No. No, this is not it. You hear Joel's voice saying your name. It sends a shiver down your spine. He sounds serious. You look up once more, your frightened gaze meeting his eyes.

“I’m sorry, honestly.” he says softly. “As I said, I don’t really know any medical stuff. But I know when it’s too late.”

His words feels like a punch to your stomach. The world spins and you feel a bit nauseous. This was not how it was supposed to end. You just got back together. You try to blink away the burning feeling behind your eyelids.

“No, no.” You quietly answer. It’s like you can’t access your vocabulary anymore. There’s so much you want to say but your mind is just blank. A panicked blank with only denial. You close your eyes and all you see is your sister, very much alive. 

Joel starts saying something but you can’t really put the words together as the world spins. Suddenly the doors open, and you immediately try to get back to reality. Ellie’s face peeps out, looking stressed. 

“There’s someone on the other side!” Ellie says, frightened. “I heard some voices, and saw three men when I looked through the window.”

“Fuck.” Joel mumbles and looks around worried, and starts shoving Ellie towards the old train behind you. “Get on the train and hide!”

You start to panic.

“But, Julie is-” you start, but a large hand grabs you by the shoulder and shoves you back into the train. You flinch as your back collides with the metal  and look up only to see Joel staring down at you. 

“I tried to tell you nicely,” he hisses towards you, clenching his teeth together. “She’s gone.”

He lets go of his grip on your shoulder and looks you up and down while he slowly walks backwards grabbing his rifle. He didn’t lie when he said that there could be raiders around here.

“Train – now.” he says once more and you angrily make your way into the carriage as he walks to the corner of the house, trying to get a look of who you’re dealing with. 

You shake your head while you grab your own rifle from behind. As you make your way through the carriage something grabs your ankle. You squirm and let out a small scream. Taking a few steps back pointing your rifle down, ready to fire – you’re met with the eyes of the teenage girl you know nothing more of than her name. She hushes at you and puts her finger up towards her lips.

You’re relieved it's her, hunched down between the train seats, and not an infected left behind in the train. 

“I could’ve shot you!” you whisper as you quickly hunch down next to her. 

“Hide.” she just whispers back. “This way they won’t see you through the windows.”

You focus on your breathing. It’s quiet outside, but all you hear is the beat of your own heart and the blood rushing, making the silence unbearable. 

After just a couple of minutes that feels like seconds and hours at the same time, you hear a gunshot. You both twitch a bit at the sound. Looking nervously around but you don’t see anything. The voices of men can be heard in the distance and more gunshots are fired, closer this time. You start moving away to get further away in the carriage. You and Ellie crawl on the dirty train floor, dusty and covered in ice. You look back at the kid behind you, her red hoodie sticking up from inside of the green worn out jacket. She’s not really dressed for this weather.

You hear gunshots again and hear the pained screams of a man. You pull Ellie closer and put your head down. Quickly squeezing the two of you behind another pair of seats. Breathing shakily, feeling Ellie’s fast heartbeats under your arm as you’re hugging her close. 

There’s a creak of a carriage door. You feel the weight of the train shift a bit as someone enters the train. Fuck. There’s no place to run. You’re staying hidden right where you are, as long as the one who just entered the train decides to walk the other way. 

But of course that’s none of your luck, you think, as you slowly move your head a bit to make eye contact with Ellie.

“Do you have a gun?” you ask quietly, and she nods.

You take a deep breath and squeeze your eyes together in fear. The steps are getting closer.

“Stay down.” you whisper to Ellie as you reach for the trigger of your rifle and stand up. You look at the person who just entered the train through your aim.

“Stay back!” you fiercely say as the person puts their hands up slowly over their head.

“Hey, it’s me!” Joel whispers. “Get down! I told you to hide!”

You just started to realize who you had in front of you at the same moment as you hear a woman cry out in the distance. You freeze and all you hear is the cries… of your sister.

“No, no, no. Please, I don’t have anything- plea- please don’t-” you hear her beg loudly. Your head snaps to your side, through the train window and at the big wooden door that separates you from Julie. You start walking determined towards the exit of the train, try to squeeze past Joel as you hear your sister scream out. But he grabs your wrist, holding you back.

“Let me go!” you yell at him. 

“It’s been too late for a long time now and you know it.” he snaps back.

The screams of your sister goes silent as you hear one last gunshot. The world is not spinning anymore. It feels like the floor of the train gives in underneath you. You fall endlessly into a pitch black hole as you scream. The only thing holding you up the Joels firm grip of your wrist. 

“Up Ellie!” Joel instructs as he shows you further away in the wagon, your legs failing to walk. Ellie gets up and takes the lead, opening the door into the next wagon.

“Move.” Joel says aggressively and pushes you forward. You feel nauseous as you start to put one foot in front of the other. He mumbles right behind your ear, “If you don’t get yourself together and move your feet I’ll leave you here for the raiders to find.”

You take a deep breath and look up and sees Ellie’s worried face hold the door open for the two of you. As you take a step into the other carriage you wipe away your tears from your cheek. Behind you is the sound of Joel loading his gun. You keep on walking determined to get to the end of the train. You hear the gunshot when Joel pulls the trigger, but this time you don’t flinch. You’re feeling numb. You hear one of the windows of the train shatter as the bullet pierces through, and a loud thud of a body falling to the ground outside. But you don’t care, you don’t feel. You just move. 

“We need to leave,” Joel explains to you and Ellie. “There’s more coming, and by the time they get here we need to be gone.”

As you get to the end of the train Ellie opens the door, peeks outside and checks in both directions before she jumps outside, closely followed by you and Joel. 

Your feet hit the frozen ground. Usually, your knees would protest in some kind of way. You’re not a twenty-something anymore, and haven’t been in a long time. But you don’t feel anything. The sun is blinding, almost making the white snow unbearable to look at. 

As you start running away from the train, from the station and your sister you gaze up to the sky. This was not supposed to be the end, you think as you make your way alongside the old tracks.

[hashekyu]

you make your own stories!?! omgg

yeah !! heres one i made some a year ago cause i cant find a decent one i made recently lmao

[ 1 ]

Naora moved swiftly from one tree branch to another and glanced around. Something doesn't feel right. she thought, tugging on her hood. She heard the faint sound of rustling and whirled, but to her disappointment, nothing new greeted the eye, but the dark of the night. 

"Hey Naora!" 

"Holy crap!" she stumbled forward, clawing at the wood, one foot in the air. She slowly turned around. "Tyler." she said in a tone of disgust, rolling her eyes. "You know I could've died if I fell, right?"

Tyler shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked. "But you didn't, right?" he patted her shoulder. "Anyways, it's my shift now to watch over if any humans intrude. Ya know, with my night vision thing," 

"Wow, so cool. Night vision thing." Naora muttered sarcastically. 

"It's better than having a tail. I mean, what does it even do? whap people in the face?" Tyler said, squatting down and pointing at the furred tail curled behind her left leg, peeking out her dress. She whipped it at his eye. "Agh!" he shrieked, holding his face. "I think I'm blind!"

"You did say it could whap people in the face, and it did."

"Ahh, whatever. One blind eye is probably better than having to poke a hole in your underwear so your tail fits out."

"Don't go there," Naora snorted. "I'm out. Have fun on your shift, night vision guy."

"Right. G'night, tail girl." 

she gave him a slight shove and climbed down the branches, then hopped down at the very last step. "Naora," she heard. "What's wrong, Ki?" she asked. A girl a few inches shorter than her with unusual yellowish skin and curled, orange hair and fierce eyes with slit pupils stared up at her. "We've had several suspicions of a human wandering out here." she said seriously, crossing her arms. "You and me were assigned to find it."

"s'that so?" Naora rested her fingers on the handle of her dagger. "Let's hunt it down, then."

"I have no idea why I had been assigned with you, you who holds no strength, no intelligence." Ki sighed. "All you do is yada yada around here with your face-whapping tail, and yes. I saw that."

"Hey, atleast I have dagger skills."

"Whatever. For now, go to sleep to get ready for tomorrow." 

"Noted." Naora passed by Ki and into a campsite-like place. She seated herself on a fallen log, decorated with plants growing out of it and watched the little girl Maria flap her colorful wings, reaching up into the sky and raising her arm up as if touching the stars and giggling, Roger chow down steak, his wolf ears twitching furiously at every little sound Maria makes, and everyone else. Terry and Cherry, the rabbit siblings began quarreling about whether lava was a liquid. Klara stepped forward, pushing them apart from each other. "Now, now, you two." she said with a gentle voice, smiling softly. "war makes it worse." 

Naora sighed, sinking into her seat and closed her eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep. 

[ 2 ]

"Naora! Naora! Ki! Roger! Everyone, wake up!"

Naora drowsily opened one eye, then another. It was still dark, the sky like a black canvas with tiny dots of white. Someone shook her. She looked up. "What do you want, Ty...?" she yawned. Ki was up, too, concern etched on her face. "Yes. What is the problem?" 

Roger snorted awake. The bunny siblings were curled up, snoring. Klara was still asleep. But someone was missing...

"Maria's missing!"

Naora sat up. "What?"

"Weren't you on shift!?" Ki gasped, stumbling to her feet. Klara immediately opened her eyes as if she hadn't just been snoring lightly. Roger gritted his teeth. "Yeah. Weren't you on shift?" he growled. Tyler laughed nervously. "Well you see..." he shrugged. "I may have dozed off a little..."

"You're a half-cat, Tyler, you're supposed to be hyper energetic at night or something!" Klara yelled. Terry shuffled in his sleep, his bob tail twitching slightly. Ki buried her face in her hands. "This is why I don't allow people like you to go on shift..."  

Naora's tail shivered. "Geez, stop stereotyping me!" defended Tyler, crossing his arms. "Look, we're wasting time. If we wanna save Maria from some killer human thing, we gotta be fast." 

"Got a point there." Naora muttered. Without another word, Ki grabbed her leather bag and ran off. Klara picked the two little siblings up, still asleep, and followed behind her. Roger followed, too. Naora glanced at Tyler and shook her head. "You messed up real badly." she whispered, catching up with the others. "It must be that stupid human that wandered off here." Ki growled, balling her hands into fists. "I'll absolutely kill every single one of their kind." 

"How do we know where we're going?" mumbled Tyler into Naora's ear. She harrumphed and walked faster to get away from him. He frowned. Even her, he thought. She pulled on her hood then looked down. "Wait!" she said. They all froze. She bent down and touched the ground, then rubbed her index finger with her thumb. "Fairy dust..." she gasped. "Maria was here!" 

Ki joined Naora, squatting down next to her. She squinted at the ground hard. "She's right. There's a trail."

They all exchanged glances, and as if sharing the same mind, hurried to follow the trail of sparkling fairy dust. "Guys? what if this is a trap, though...?" Klara said, her breath shaky from carrying two children (still not awake) and running. Ki placed her hands on her hips. "If it is, we can still outsmart those dumb humans."

"Hey... guys? the trail stops..." Tyler walked up to a tree bark and pressed his palm on the ground. "The trail stops here-"

a net exploded from the leaves, caging Tyler. His eyes went wide. "Tyler!" screamed Naora, rushing to him. Ki grabbed her wrist. "Imbecile. It will get both of you trapped." she scolded, gesturing to another net hung sneakily in the leaves. 

Klara slumped down, breathing hard, placing the two children down on the ground. "How do they sleep for so long?" she muttered. Roger's ears perked up, and he sniffed the air. "Do you guys 'ear that?" 

"Their snoring?" Klara muttered, staring at Terry.

"Hear what, Roger?" Ki let go of Naora's wrist. Roger continued to prance around, nose in the air. "It's like... a little kid cryin'... and it smells like..."

he gasped. "Maria!"

"Is no one gonna help me here?" Tyler complained, clawing on the net. Klara patted Cherry on the head and chased over Roger along with Ki. Tyler gave a hopeful look to Naora. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "How'm I supposed to get you down, o night vision guy?" 

"Your dagger, of course!"

"And how am I supposed to get up there?"

"It's simple, really..."

[ 3 ]

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, not at all am I gonna risk Cherry and Terry's life for yours."

"C'mon, tail-girl."

"I'm not gonna do that." Naora crossed her arms and glanced at the two children, still huddled up on the ground. Light was peaking out from the sky, it was turning five in the morning. The others had to find Maria. Tyler stuck his bottom lip out. "Pretty please with a cherry on top?" he pleaded. 

She couldn't help but snicker. "you look seriously stupid right now." 

"I could look stupid more often for you if you helped me down."

Okay, that crossed her mind the wrong way. She felt her face heat up and looked away. "Fine, whatever." 

she gently shook Terry and Cherry awake. "Hey, you guys."

They slowly opened their eyes, stretching, yawning. "Where are we?" Cherry asked. Naora definitely didn't want to explain the whole thing. "Er... Tyler's stuck in a net and I uh..." she fiddled with some of her own stray hair. "I need you to go climb up there with my dagger and slice the net. It's okay if that's too hard for you."

Terry picked himself up along with Cherry, who crossed her arms. "Too hard?" she mused. "I don't think so." 

Without a moment to spare, they both climbed up, fast as a flash, and was already on top. "Wait- you forgot the dagger-" Naora called. They ignored her and bared their fangs, biting into the string. Soon, the net was held up by one single thread, on the urge of breaking. Terry sank his teeth into it, and The net fell apart, and Tyler fell out. "Agh!" he rubbed his head, but then saw the look of awe on Naora's face and grinned. "See?"

"how did they not get caught by the net?"

"They're too fast to get caught."

"Remind me again that they're rabbit children." 

Terry and Cherry dusted themselves when they got off. "Can you tell us where we are now?" they asked in unison.

Naora stiffened. "Oh... uh..."

. . .

Ki chewed her bottom lip. "Roger, are you sure you know where-"

"Quiet down- will ya? I'm tryna focus!"

Klara sighed. "Do you guys think Terry and Cherry'll be safe with-"

"Those two nuisances, Tyler and Naora? nah, course not." Roger groused. "Will you stop interrupting everybody?" Ki barked.

 "Yeah, yeah, sure, bossy."

"Talk about bossy..." Ki whispered under her breath. She heard a faint sound of weeping. Roger's ears twitched. "She's somewhere near." he said, pushing through a bush. Klara spat on the ground, rubbing her tongue off. "I think I swallowed an ant..." she mumbled. Noises of screaming got louder to the point Roger had to pop his fingers in his sensitive ears. "Yup. Definitely Maria."

Ki's eyes sharpened. She gestured forward. "I see her." 

They glanced at each other and ran. "Maria!" Klara gasped, staggering forward to the girl. Fresh cuts and bruises were everywhere on her body. A tight knotted rope dug into her wrists, and her legs were tied together, wings sliced. She gasped and sputtered, whined but couldn't form words. "What happened?" Ki asked, trying to untie her, trying not to be harsh, trying not to hurt her. Roger's ears quivered. Then his eyes grew wide. He tackled Ki, pulling her back. "Watch out!" he yelled. An arrow flew in the air where Ki had been. "I can manage by myself." Ki said as she pushed herself off him. Klara looked around in panic. "Are we being targeted?" she squeaked. Roger nodded. "We gotta go-"

"But what about Maria?" Klara said. "We just leave her here? like some maniacs?"

Ki's jaw tightened. "If we don't go, we'll-" she cut herself short. "Watch out Klara!"

Klara jerked her head southwards in search for any danger. An arrow came from the opposite direction. Roger lunged forward, but missed the arrow. It pierced through Klara's right arm, a clean shot. She howled in pain, clutching her shoulder. Maria screamed out. Ki gasped. Roger stared. Klara turned to Maria, breathing unsteady, and kept her fingers stumbling to untie the complicated knot as if she had not been shot. "Klara!" Ki said, pushing herself down, barely missing a flying arrow. "We can't leave a little girl in here... yet..." Klara breathed. Roger staggered backwards, an arrow merely missing his head. "We've got to GO!" he urged. "We'll all die!"

"No," Klara said, finally getting the rope off the little girl's wrists, pulling off the cloth tying her legs together. "Run."

Ki slung her arm around Klara and supported her up. Klara shook her head, sinking back down. "We can make it with you!" Ki insisted. Roger sighed and picked up Klara, set her on his back and gestured to Maria. "Minion girl, you take care of her."

Ki made an offended noise. "Minion? How?" she took the little girl by her waist and made an effort to not touch any of the scars. 

"'cause you're yellow." he shrugged. "And short."

"..." Ki glared at him before running off, dodging arrows. A woman peeked out from the shadows and trees, barely in sight. Only her brown hair pulled up in a ponytail was seen, her face, however, was masked. Her arm was poised, ready to shoot another arrow. It was aimed at Roger. "Roger, I see the human. It's about to shoot you," Ki warned, glancing at the little girl in her arms. "You guys... are gonna die..." Klara muttered in Roger's ear as he swerved for a right. "I do love myself a motivational message." Roger grunted, struggling to keep Klara on his back. The human slowly vanished from view. "Where're we running to?" Ki asked. 

"Hey, I'm following you!" Roger said. "How'm I supposed to know where you're running to?"

Ki rolled her eyes. "Seriously, I don't know where we're headed."

"You've lived in this forest the longest. How'd you not know your surroundings?"

"Well, I never did try exploring out here." 

A blinding light shot through the trees. Roger shielded his eyes. "Where- where are we?" 

Ki brought her long-nailed hand up and tore through the keep out tape, studying the new surroundings. Ki stumbled back. "Oh no, no. We can't be here..."

Roger glanced at her terrified look. "What? why?"

"Because..."

[ 4 ]

Tyler didn't know why she was still mad. Naora kept avoiding him. Terry and Cherry seemed to recognize the tension and kept quiet the whole walk. It was just silence, before Tyler broke it. "Why're you still mad at me?" Tyler sputtered. Naora stopped walking, but didn't meet his gaze. "You put Maria's life on the line. Who knows? maybe all of 'em are dead by now 'cause of you." she said glumly.

Tyler frowned. "But when I was stuck in the net, you were completely fine." 

"What? you want me to get you stuck in another net?"

"Then would you forgive me?"

Naora looked away. "It shouldn't be me you're saying sorry to." her tail was lowered down. Her gaze averted to the sky. "I really hope they're okay."

. . .

"This is not okay."

"I didn't know angels looked so angelic..."

"What?"

Roger slipped Klara down his back and pressed his sweaty palm against her forehead. "She's going to die." he said, in a-matter-of-fact voice. "I didn't know that," Ki grumbled. A lake laid before them, green instead of clear. The smell of grass was strong, almost unbearable. Gloomy leaves hung down tree's thin barks. Ki laid Maria down on the grass. She coughed into her fist, blood spilling out. It dripped down her chin and on her stained and ripped clothing. "Klara's seein' angels," Roger said, with what seemed like genuine concern laced in his words, for the first time. 

He touched the arrows stabbed in her arm, then lightly attempted to pull. She yelled out in pain, grabbing his wrist. "Don't." she whispered. 

Roger's ears pricked up, and suddenly, he cupped Klara's mouth, and pressed his finger to his lips. Ki picked up on this, pupils dilating gradually. 

[xxxevilfilms]

Fuck You To The Track

Info: Giovanna not only fails to protect the White House from Happy Chaos' onslaught, but she is also unable to protect herself from the fallen apostle's wayward hands. 

Kinks: Rape/Noncon, Loss of Virginity, Large/Monster Cock, Dirty Talk, Forced Blowjobs, Face Fucking, At Gun Point, Hair Pulling, Slapping, Spitting, Make Outs, Biting, Corruption, Mind Break, Sex Slave, Unprotected Sex, Impregnation, Forced Orgasm, Vaginal Sex

Disclaimer: Title taken from the Necro track of the same name. Please give his album "I Need Drugs" a listen, it fits Happy Chaos surprisingly well. Also don't worry about how Giovanna magically winded up in the path of Chaos; let's just say she fell through the floor and landed at his feet 🙃. Actual fic is under the cut. Please don't read this if any of the tags squick you out.

Giovanna wakes up in pain, her head pounding and belly aching as she tries to shake off the gravel that blankets her uniform. Wheezing, the young officer tries sitting up but winces when her stomach stings in protest, releasing fresh blood that seeps through her shirt and flows into her pants. Giovanna growls at that before forcing herself to lay back down in the dust, shaking hand pressed firmly into her belly to prevent any more blood loss. That big samurai-looking motherfucker knocked her out so hard, she can’t remember what happened to her or how she even got here, but judging by the massive hole in the ceiling she was staring at,  Giovanna had to assume that he sent her tumbling through two floors of concrete before running off. For whatever reason he didn’t finish her off, and fled to some other wing of the building to find Sol no doubt. Where exactly that is, Giovanna doesn't know, but she really doesn't care. She was bleeding out and was too weak to call Rei; the best she could do was crawl to safety and hope some stranger found her.

Girding her loins, Giovanna grits her teeth and rolls off her back to support her upper half with one arm, being careful not to aggravate the gash in her belly. Her legs barely move when she makes a half-assed attempt to crawl, the pressure and strain she puts on her thighs forcing a rattled moan to escape her throat. They feel less like extensions of herself and more like hot iron girders than actual limbs, a sign that tells Giovanna that she had a few broken bones in her legs. Great, she thought bitterly; just great. The officer grumbles in audible frustration and makes another attempt to crawl, determined to will her useless legs to move, but stops when she hears a sinister voice whistle at her.

“And just when I thought my day couldn’t get any better...”

Giovanna peered over her shoulder and saw the very man she was tasked with tracking down; the gunslinger with cobalt skin, Happy Chaos. Strutting down the collapsed hallway with a jaunty gait, he swings a revolver in one hand and adjusts the gaudy, orange shades on his face in the other as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Giovanna freezes in place but manages to maintain her composure, keeping a stern face that she hopes illustrates to the man that she wasn’t some helpless runt that needed rescuing. The man however easily saw through her ruse and kept coming toward her, mischievous brown eyes staring directly into her quivering pools of blue.

“Man, he fucked you up pretty good, huh?” He approaches and then smiles down at her, lips peeling back to reveal white rows of perfect teeth that part slightly to mock her. “Had I known a pretty thing like you was gonna go toe to toe with him, I would’ve told him to go easy on you.” Chaos then lifts his foot and digs the toe of his boot into her right calf muscle, the pressure making Giovanna yelp. “Oh yeah, this ain’t good at all...” He laughed a little and pressed harder, enjoying the way Giovanna wriggled beneath him, before finally taking it off of her. “You’re in a bit of trouble, ain’t you, doll?”

“Fucking asshole... Come any closer and I'll--” Giovanna coughs and tastes iron on the back of her tongue, the pain in her gut quickly radiating to her chest and making her cringe. She can’t even fucking talk without hacking up a lung.

“What’s that? Can’t hear ya,” Coming closer, he kneels down to her height and smirks deviously at her. “Sounds to me like you’re ready to die.” He then held the revolver up to her bind and curled his finger around the trigger. Giovanna growled low in her throat at that, her chest heaving and nails digging into her shirt as she prepared for the worst. The man doesn’t do anything else however and just keeps the muzzle on her skin, eyes taking in the fear, anger, and hatred that swirled in her eyes, and rather than end her misery and go on about his plan to destroy the world, he merely tilts his head and lets his smile deepen.

“But that’s no fun,” Chaos moves the revolver away from her forehead to trace her nose and lips with it. “And I love fun. Hell, I live for it,” It then moves lower to rest on her chin, the stench of gun grease and oil making Giovanna’s sensitive nose flare. “And if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a killjoy.” Pressing it none too gently into her skin, Chaos then proceeds to crawl over Giovanna’s fragile body to quickly cage it beneath his own, the young officer visibly paling when it dawns on her what Chaos had in mind for her. She tries to move away from him out of reflex but is yanked back to the revolver's muzzle by her hair, the metal barrel now pressed harshly against her brown cheek.

“So how ‘bout it doll? You wanna have some fun with me?” He licks his lips before gently worrying the skin with his teeth. “Be a real waste of a good time if we didn’t.” Chaos cocked the revolver as he brought his face closer to Giovanna’s face, the smell of gun polish quickly replaced by something else that comes off of the apostle’s body. She smells wood, citrus, and smoke, scents that Giovanna would’ve found pleasant if it weren’t for the fact that she was being held at gunpoint. She wants to tell him to fuck off and pull the trigger already, but the words suddenly catch in her throat when Chaos pushes her to the ground, uncaring of the debris that digs into her back and tears at her uniform. Giovanna struggled beneath him, but it’s no use; she’s too weak and he’s simply too strong.

“Good girl,” He chuckled at her, the hand that was in her hair leaving her scalp to rip at what remained of her shirt, revealing to him big brown breasts clad in a little black bra. "So fuckin' pretty..." He slides the revolver down to her chest and nestles the barrel between her heaving tits, the bitterly cold metal cooling down her heated skin, but doing little to calm down her racing heart. “You gotta name, pretty girl?”

“Piss off,” Giovanna gathered some bloody spittle in her mouth and promptly hocked it at Chaos’ face. Giovanna expects him to either pistol whip her or even put a bullet in her lungs for her lack of cooperation, but rather than knock her out or leave her for dead, Chaos chortles and wipes his cheek with the back of his hand.

“It’s gonna be like that, huh?” He licks at his knuckles and shoots her a maddening grin. “Alright, doll, we can play that game,” He then raised the hand that he used to wipe his skin with and swiftly brought it down on Giovanna’s face. The officer sputtered and felt the blood gathering in her mouth suddenly spurt from her lips, the shock of the blow rattling her brain. Giovanna is ready to scream out for help but is stopped by Chaos who grabs her chin and holds it tightly between his gloved fingers.

“What’s your fucking name, hon?” He asked again. “I bet it’s something real pretty, isn’t it? A real sweet little sobriquet your friends are gonna wanna scream when they see a bullet in your heart."

“Giovanna...!” Giovanna growls out. “It's Giovanna for fucksakes...!”

"Giovanna? Ooh, that's really pretty." Chaos seems pleased and gently strokes her cheek. "That wasn't so hard, was it, Giovanna? Now I know what to say when I break you open."

"F-Fuck you...!"

"I'm getting there, doll, I'm getting there, don't gotta rush me." Chaos kisses the side of her mouth. "You're an impatient little thing." His free hand then moved down his body, arriving at the fly of his pants that he quickly released with a few twists of his fingers. Giovanna fidgets beneath him once she sees more buttons and a few belts come undone, her heart sinking into her stomach when Chaos pulls out what looks like a third limb from the confines of his underwear.

A cock as long as her forearm and thicker than her wrist emerges from his crotch, throbbing and thrumming with such intense primal need that the officer can see thick veins pump rhythmically beneath the skin of his shaft. There was no way that was going to fit; the thought of him forcing that massive thing into her sex made Giovanna ache and her stomach churn.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, doll," Chaos laughed. "What, never seen a cock before?"

Giovanna is silent and only turns her head, unable to look at it.

"Still shy? Oh well, I'm gonna find out in a minute anyway."

Chaos climbs further up her body, cock dangling and sliding along her exposed skin before coming up at an upright curve finally when Chaos sits on her chest, the pressure on her sternum knocking the air out of her and forcing her to take shallow gasps through her mouth. Chaos however doesn't care and quickly grabs his cock to slap it against her bruised lips.

"Open up." He commanded.

"No..." She bit back. "You're not fucking serious..."

Aiming his revolver at a spot next to her head, Chaos sighs as he pulls the trigger. Giovanna jolted upwards when the sound of metal bullets hitting concrete splits her hearing in half, the pain forcing her to cover her ears.

"Does it sound like I'm kidding?" He popped another one off, this one dangerously close to her temple, before placing the muzzle back on her forehead again. "I'm not above fucking that dot open, so don't make me say it again."

Giovanna feels dizzy, disoriented. She can barely make out the words leaving his lips but knows very well what he's asking of her, what she must do. Closing her tired eyes shut, Giovanna opens her mouth and runs a trembling tongue over the underside of his shaft, tracing bulging veins that twitch erratically against her flesh. He tastes like salt and smells strongly of musk and sweat, a scent that wafts into her nostrils and makes her grimace. She doesn't want to lick it anymore, doesn't want to act like a whore, but knows that she has to if she has any chance of surviving.

"Sick fuck..." Through trembling lips, she licks him again, flinching when the revolver moves from her forehead to her right temple. She then heard Chaos groan and felt him angle his length along her pouty red lips so she could lick around the glans instead, her tongue catching sticky beads of pre-ejaculate that offends her palette. Chaos doesn't let up on her however despite her obvious discomfort and forces the tip past her parted lips so she can suckle around it properly. He then rocked a little into her mouth and moaned provocatively at what he's made of her, his smirk quivering when jolts of intense pleasure ride down his shaft.

"Fuck yeah, baby doll, good girl, get me nice and wet..." He purred happily. "See what happens when you're good for me, baby? When you cut out all the drama?"

Giovanna barely hears him as she was too busy getting used to the bitter taste of man meat on her tongue. His essence flows freely into her mouth, covering her tongue with so much piquant fluid Giovanna can't swallow it all in one go and lets it leak from the sides of her mouth instead. Chaos coos at the sight and proceeds to push his cock deeper into her mouth, until the thick purple head stretches Giovanna’s jaw to the limit. She gags around him and wants to pull away but is unable to when Chaos continues to push it in, ignoring her frightened, tear-stricken eyes in favor of forcing his throbbing prick down her throat.

"Aw, you coughin' baby? Am I too big for you?" He laughed evilly as he raised his hips off her chest to go even deeper. "That's no good, baby, you can take more than that. C'mon, doll, don't push me out just yet."

Giovanna whimpers around Chaos’ cock when the apostle rears his hips back and fills the length of her throat with his meat, cock buried so deeply in her mouth, Giovanna can feel the leaking cockhead prod at the opening to her stomach. Giovanna screamed around his shaft then and wants to pull back, wants to take in air and soothe her burning jaw, but Chaos is too strong for her and immediately tangles his fingers into her hair, hips wasting no time fucking and stuffing her throat like it was a sleeve for him to abuse. 

"That's right, baby, that's right..." Chaos sighs happily at the wetness that closes around his prick and grins from ear to ear. “Take this fucking cock...”

Giovanna desperately tries pulling her head off of him one more time but Chaos keeps an iron grip in her hair. He gets off to her struggle, enjoys watching her head twitch and jolt away from his shaft as he held her against his crotch. Her mouth is nothing more than a hole for him to fuck, a toy he can play and fuck with however he saw fit, and Giovanna can only lay there and take it.

"Such a good bitch, Gio, such a good slut," He prattled on, unable to stop himself from violating her mouth. "Wetting me up for that sweet pussy, aren't you, doll? Gonna make it slide in nice and easy for me?" Moaning out his pleasure, Chaos went faster and fucked her face with short and fast pumps of his cock that jostles Giovanna's brain and rips all the air from her lungs. He then tosses the revolver that was at her temple to the side in favor of using both of his hands to hold her bouncing head in place, spit and precome riding down Giovanna’s lips and splattering across her skin with each cant of the apostle’s hips. It damn near chokes her, drags out the last of the air that remains in her lungs, and just when Giovanna thinks she's about to pass out from exhaustion, Chaos quickly pulls out of her mouth and jerks himself off over her face, getting off to the sight of Giovanna coughing and spitting up the essence that escaped his cock.

“I’m starting to like you, babe. I really am. You dunno how long it’s been since I got my dick wet,” He gave himself one final stroke before moving his hand away, eyes dancing with perverted mirth. “I don’t wanna bust one all over that cute face though.” He then moved back down and played with the belt keeping Giovanna’s slacks in place. “I gotta better place in mind.”

“N-No!” Giovanna wriggled under him. “Get the fuck off me, no!”

“I wonder, has it been a while for you, too?” Chaos asked, hands effortlessly uncinching her belt. “Or was I right? Are you a virgin, baby? You never got pumped before?” He chortles as he proceeds to tackle the buttons that keep her slacks closed. “Am I gonna be your first?”

Giovanna sits up, ready to throw a punch, but is held back by the gash in her stomach. She grunts loudly and collapses back on the floor, writhing in pain. Chaos sneers at her and continues to undress her lower half, stopping only when he sees her sex come into view. Dark and shiny like the rest of her, it’s partially covered by a black thong that rides up her hairless lips and conforms to the shape of her clitoris, the sight prompting the apostle to whistle provocatively at her. Giovanna wants to close her thighs but is unable to, the pain in her legs and the grip Chaos held on them forcing her to remain spread open for him. This is not fucking happening, she thought. Never would she have guessed that her first time would be with a literal monster, a world-ending terrorist who wanted to fuck her pussy just cuz he could. It sickens her just how unrepentant and shameless the creep is when it comes to violating her; if she wasn’t such a useless hunk of shattered bones and weeping wounds, she would’ve put up a better fight than this. That shitty samurai was to blame for all this, and now Giovanna was paying the price.

“This is how you get off, huh...?” She wheezes out, cringing when she feels him rip her thong from her sex. “Fucking cute girls against their will?”

“A guy can’t have his fetish?” Chaos chuckled airly. “Morality is a subjective concept, you know. What looks bad to you, looks very good to me.” He then runs a finger over the unbreached seam of her lips and hums at the smoothness of her skin. “And trust me babe, no amount of moral fuckery is gonna keep me away from this perfect little cunt.” He spits on her slit, watches his drool seep in between her folds, and slides a finger inside, careful not to actually penetrate her. “So fucking tiny...” He then guides his finger to her clit and prods at it roughly, enjoying the way it twitched under his touch.

“You’re so fucked,” Giovanna breathed out. “I’d rather bleed out than listen to you...”

“Oh no, no, no we can’t let you do that,” Chaos tutted her with a patronizing click of his tongue. “I see something in you, doll; I want you by my side when the world goes to shit, when I close this book and open the next. I’ve already crafted the perfect purpose for you. ”

“The hell do you mean...?”

“Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” Chaos grabbed Giovanna’s legs and wrapped them around his waist before scooting closer to her pussy, letting the blunt purple head of his shining cock split her quivering lips apart. “Once my acquaintance enacts requiem,” The apostle slowly, ever so slowly, pushed against Giovanna’s virgin hole and bent over her battered form to look her in the eye again. “And when humanity crumbles under the weight of their own hubris,” He thrusts forward, slipping the tip inside of her tightening hole. It makes Giovanna cry out. “I’ll be the Adam to your Eve.”

“Fucking shit!” Giovanna claws at the ruined carpet beneath her, the pain in her sex mingling with the burn in her gut. “No, pull it out, you asshole! I don’t--!”

“Oh fuck baby, shh...” He kissed her lips and cooed. “Happy thoughts, yeah?” He kissed her again, this time on the chin, and didn’t stop trying to force his way inside. Giovanna shrieked in pain and grips the apostle’s arms in a desperate bid to get him out of her. “So tight...”

“Stop, please just stop...!” The young officer pleaded, unable to cope with the burn that overwhelmed her cunt. “I can’t, you’re too fucking big...!”

“Don’t fight me, baby doll, don’t fight me,” Chaos manages to squeeze himself halfway up Giovanna’s cunt, the slick from his precome and her spit making the slide easy. “Just let this happen...”

Giovanna’s back arched at the sting. The pain was maddening, like sitting on a box of tacks, and rather than slow down, Chaos keeps pushing in, forcing his prick up into her cunt until he finally feels himself bottom out. Blood quickly left Giovanna’s lips soon after, a thin sheen of crimson covering his shaft that aids in lubricating her hole, allowing Chaos to pull out and thrust back in good and slow. Cockhead hitting her cervix with short, stilted ruts he made into her cunt, the pain brought on by his massive length ripped garbled moans of agony from Giovanna’s throat that she lacks the energy to silence. Instead, the officer lets the tears fall, succumbing to the evil that penetrates her quim as she pitifully let Chaos find pleasure in her rape, the apostle merciless when he pumps and drags his cock along the opening to her womb. Chaos appears to be in ecstasy during it all and lays his big body along Giovanna’s flailing one to revel in the trembling walls of her virgin sex, the added weight on her stomach aggravating her injury. Rather than slow down, he licks away her tears, bites her lips, and wedges her mouth apart with his thumbs to shove his tongue in there, lapping at the spit that pools in the back of her mouth as he gradually increases his pace.

“That’s it, baby, lemme hear you cry,” Chaos says against her mouth, gruff voice slick as honey and yet deadly like venom. “This poor pussy is too tiny for my cock, but you’re taking it like a champ, aren’t you?” He laps feverishly at her tongue and swipes at the roof of her mouth, unable to hold back his lust. “Like you were made for me...” He goes faster, uses his free hand to slide it between their bodies, and rubs her clit raw, the friction sending a tingle up her spine Giovanna wanted to fight, but it distracts her from the bite that afflicts her privates. Chaos doesn’t stop flicking it, the apostle aware of the stress he’s putting on her body it seems, and proceeds to masturbate her faster, letting those little jolts of pleasure well up in her core and take away from the pain.

The moan that escapes Giovanna’s lips then terrifies her.

“Good girl, you like that? Like that I’m giving your pussy a break?” He bit her bottom lip and pulled on it with his teeth.

Giovanna has no words to spare and only closes her eyes in defeat, fighting down the pleasure that builds in her womb by clinging to Chaos’ wrists, but it’s no use; his cock rakes over a spot inside of her that makes her toes curl and her eyes shoot open. Her clit thrums sporadically against Chaos’ finger when her pussy spews hot juice that makes fucking her so easy for him. The next moan that escapes her is long and broken, and Chaos swallows those pitiable mewls by kissing her again, tongue invading her mouth once more to drag it up and over her teeth and gums, his own moans low and guttural when he begins to slam his hips into her frantically like a rutting dog.

“Fuck, baby girl, fuck yeah... Get into it, lemme fuck that pretty cunt.” And then suddenly, with strength Giovanna didn’t know he possessed, Chaos gathers her in his arms and stands up, bringing her with him. Cock still buried deep into her, Chaos lays her busted legs against his shoulders and fucks her battered cunt while she hangs in the air, forcing the younger girl to cling to his neck so she doesn't fall. Chaos cackles at that and keeps his hold on her by slapping his hands on her fat ass, digging those black nails of his into her plump flesh so he couldn’t let go. Giovanna’s noises get louder then, the pain in her cunt now replaced with mind-numbing pleasure she’s ashamed to succumb to. It takes so much work to fight it, but as the tremors of release overwhelm her nerves, Giovanna has no choice but to allow another orgasm to ravish her fucked out body.

“Doll, you’re gonna make me come,” His voice shakes while the hard muscles in his powerful thighs tremble from exertion. “I’m gonna come in this little virgin pussy...”

Giovanna, through the haze in her head, quickly yells at him.

“No, don’t come inside, you jackass!”

“Afraid not, Gio,” He licked a thick stripe up her sweaty cheek. “Here’s hoping this is a safe day for you.”

“Stop it, I said no...!” Giovanna then felt Chaos' cock twitch, felt the shaft pulse and jump, and after a few pumps of his length against her bruised cervix, Chaos grits his teeth and shoots his load deep into Giovanna’s womb. The officer gasps at the warmth that fills her insides soon after and drops her head against Chaos' neck in defeat, letting the last of her tears fall from her eyes and roll over her cheeks. He spills what feels like a gallon’s worth of come into her dripping sex, filling her up to the brim with molten hot seed that coats his cock and drips out of her in heavy droplets that splatter to the floor, the sensation of being filled so deeply making Giovanna silently cry into the crook of his neck. Chaos notices this and pets her messy hair, kissing it and nuzzling it with the gentleness of a lover as he lets the last of his jism empty into her.

“Milking me so fucking good, gonna make sure you’re knocked up by the time I’m done with you.” He whispered into her ear. “Let’s usher in the new world with a bang, baby.”

Giovanna can’t, or rather refuses, to grace Chaos with a response and closes her eyes, too weak from blood loss to focus on anything that wasn’t her broken cunt. Chaos however merely simpers at the state he’s left her in and lets her rest, at least for now.

Black quickly ate away at her vision not long after Chaos pulled out of her quivering sex.

~◇~◇~◇~

Getting I-No to usher in the new world was a bust. She tragically died in the process no thanks to Sol, but Happy Chaos wasn’t too beaten up about it. It just meant that he had to find purpose somewhere else, wherever that is. And while he wouldn’t call that experience very fruitful, Chaos was very happy that he was able to gain something out of it.

Somewhere, deep in some country Chaos already forgot the name of, the fallen apostle was squatting in a decent-sized log cabin in the woods, sitting in a suede armchair that did wonders for his back. In his hand was a tour guide he snagged from some corner store and despite being a somewhat interesting read, it failed to shift his attention away from the gorgeous woman sucking off his cock. Kneeling between his muscular thighs, Giovanna blows him with the skills of a vetted whore, tongue swiping over the glans as her hand massages the heavy balls that rest under his impressive length. As he takes in the gorgeous way she sucks him off, Chaos can see her big tits, heavy with milk, resting against her swollen belly, a sight that does little to calm down his giant erection.

“Fuck yeah, Gio,” He runs his fingers through her scarlet locks and smirks. “Don’t even need to tie you down anymore, got so fucking good at this."

Giovanna moans around him in response, brows narrowing when she feels his nails scratch her scalp. Even after putting a baby in her belly, and claiming her with pretty purple bruises he’s sucked, bit, and, at times, slapped into her skin, she still has the dogged attitude he’s still unable to fuck out of her.

And he fucking loves it.

Chuckling, Chaos sits back and slowly weaves his fingers into Giovanna’s hair, tugging on it harshly to get the younger girl to go deeper. She at first hesitates but eventually relents when Chaos swats her right cheek with the back of his hand, obeying him like a good bitch while still boring poison-dipped daggers into his very soul. The perfect Eve to his Adam; a stubborn little slut he'll take great joy in breaking down and turning into a proper slave for his loins.

“You crack me up, baby doll. You really do," Chaos sighed as he bucked into her mouth. “Let's hope Junior is easier to train than you.”

[fwaooo]

luke skywalker has me in a chokehold, i regret nothing but sorry for the mess. this isn't really a fic, more like an outline? (it’s my first tumblr post, pls let me know if i effed things up)

(e)mét dinluke established relationship, android au | angst, suspense, mild horror | cw: death

luke goes missing, presumably taken by imperial remnants. after about a week, leia is no longer able to sense luke in the force, they fear the worst.

a month or so later, luke arrives back home, injured but alive. he escaped, destroying the base he was taken to in the process.

when asked what happened, luke says they were trying to experiment on the force, so he closed himself off, causing leia to perceive he was dead. then how did i escape? luke doesn’t have a full idea of the experiments but he managed to grab an encrypted chip of data

time has been odd in the lab. there are some points he cannot remember entirely. some are vague impressions. some he remembers two sets of events.

luke has trouble reconnecting to the force. whatever he did to disconnect himself it was done instinctively and too well. despite luke standing right in front of them, leia and grogu have difficulty sensing him. the two do their best to find a fix, leia through research, grogu through connecting with force ghosts.

it takes a moment for anakin, obiwan and yoda to recognize luke. his force signature is muted, desaturated. they hesitate. they suggest luke to meditate with other force users, to have them aid and coax the force and luke to reconnect. for a moment, it was as if luke was an abyss, a black hole in the force.

luke works on decrypting the chip. he’s worried about the experiments that were conducted in the lab. what if they target other force users? what if they target leia and grogu? he doesn’t ask others for their help on the chip. he is afraid. he knows it shouldn’t be, but his family is everything.

when luke dreams at night, he no longer has nightmares. but he cannot recall the rush of joy when he found out leia was his sister. the thrill of flying his x wing. the overwhelming love when he first kissed din. he knows what emotions were felt at the time but the feeling is out of reach.

din does not understand the force, so he does what he can instead. he provides and protects. he brews tea when luke is frustrated over the lack of progress, he tucks a tired grogu in bed after meditation. luke and din may not have exchanged wedding vows yet but they know their relationship is true. din, grogu, and luke, a clan of three. din’s whole world. he never expected to have a family once more after the droids had taken his first one from him.

luke decrypts the chip. he wish he hadn’t. how can this be true? he’s luke skywalker, always has been and always will be. he was born to padme amidala and anakin skywalker. he was raised in tattooine by uncle owen and aunt beru. he had fought in the rebellion against the empire. he— he— he slices down his left arm. he sees wires.

leia and grogu are able to sense the bond with luke once more. he is able to send basic thoughts to them, he is able to levitate objects, his strength in the force grows daily. a black hole.

they are attacked and luke is injured when trying to protect the children. they were distracted, several of luke’s students had fallen ill. there is no blood, only oil and sparks. then what were these fluids running down his face?

droids had destroyed din’s world once. he knows they were only puppets, ordered by their master, but the shadowed mastermind was not the one that littered the streets of his childhood home with corpses. droids are the symbol of violence, of trauma, of lost happiness. din dislikes droids, din is afraid of droids. luke skywalker is an android.

who is he? what is he? he looks like luke skywalker. he has memories of luke skywalker. he acts like luke skywalker. but he is no longer made of flesh and blood. it's no longer only his right hand that is made of wires and gears. who does that make him? what does that make him? what makes luke skywalker who he is?

the android is a ticking time bomb. a vacuum that siphons and steals. a parasite. its "will" does not matter. it was created for a purpose. both an experiment and a puppet. can the force be stolen? can a non-force user wield the force? can they leash luke skywalker?

robota. it doesn’t matter if “luke skywalker” wants to protect his family. its purpose was not to give, only to take.

din goes to the ruined lab. there is barely anything left after the explosion. but he finds mangled steel and wires that seems to have come from a hand. he holds it tightly to his chest, whispering apologies and words of love. he buries it at the base of the tree that luke loved (loves) to meditate under.

“luke” loves his family and his family love luke. the luke who is no longer here, the luke that is the true owner of these memories and feelings. he is an imposter, a thief that stole luke’s home and family. but isn’t he luke in all parts that matter?

smiles, tears, compassion, strength, the good, the bad. it’s all the same. then isn’t that enough?

leia sees her brother, han and chewie see their friend, r2d2 and c3po see their companion, grogu sees his teacher and din. din sees—

din sees—

din sees blue eyes. leia and din hold luke's hand. they visit where he is buried. "welcome home, luke."

[counthakan]

“Nothing I’ve ever done has ever been good enough, you’re wrong: I have everything to prove.”

There was a hole in his chest where his heart should have been. It felt cold. Just like it had before. The only problem this time was the fact that, when he looked down, that dead organ was still in his chest. Yet the hole still remained. And it would not go away. Why did it not go away?

His hand grabbed at his chest. What he was looking for, he was not sure, but he did not let go until he was sure his heart was still there. Maybe it had all been some dream. Hakan had never had such a vivid imagination. That was more of Ezekiel's thing, was it not? Speaking of the little monster, he looked around the battlefield to see where his dear progeny could have gone. It would have been no surprise he was trying to save someone or be useful. That was just who Ezekiel was.

His gaze lifted from his chest again to where he spotted Ezekiel. Before he could even notice his own movements, he was making his way over towards the other vampire. Maybe he was hovering. Maybe he should have just trusted that Ezekiel was going to be okay. Maybe he should have just...been there.

"At least you showed up."

There was that hole in his chest again. It felt hollow. Empty. Before he could even get over to Ezekiel, his progeny had faded away. He blinked a few times. A hand gripped his chest again. A second passed. Maybe two. Hell, maybe it had been a few minutes or any hour, but the pain sat there in his chest. It would not go away. Why did it not go away?

"Ezekiel?"

The pain in his chest was evident enough, but he did not want to believe it. He did not want to believe that his dear progeny had done something that could...No. He would not believe that Ezekiel was gone. That was not what the younger vampire was fated for. No, he was supposed to live. That was what was supposed to happen. If anyone was supposed to die, it was supposed to be Hakan. Not Ezekiel. The elder vampire had lived his life. Nearly four thousand years of it. Ezekiel had barely scratched the surface. He could not be gone. He could not...

"Ezekiel?"

There was no response again. There was just that emptiness in his chest.

"Ezekiel?"

He had fallen to his knees, the hand that had been on his chest reaching towards the ground where it felt like there was just nothing but dust.

"Ezekiel?"

No, he was supposed to live. He was supposed to...

"Ezekiel, you are very funny."

But the hole in his chest told him that this was no joke.

"Ezekiel, I will put in the diamond fangs. You can come back now."

Why was his cheek wet? His hands lifted from the floor to his face and wiped at the wetness on his face. That was not supposed to happen. Why was that happening? None of this was supposed to be happening. None of it.

Hakan had flown away from the field in a murder of crows. Back to his castle. Back to his home. It was...empty. Just like his chest. Just like his dead heart that did not beat within it.

As he stood in the empty hall, his head tilted upwards towards the high ceilings. The quiet would have been unsettling, but it seemed to be fitting for how he felt right now. There was nothing within him.

He looked away towards the statues and art that littered the floors and walls of the castle. The few things that had not been touched in the short amount of time he had known his progeny. He looked away from them and in the direction of the wing of the castle that Ezekiel had made his own. Then he made his way there, his feet dragging him before his mind could decide against it.

The proper reaction would have been to accept the loss and move on. Grief was not something he had ever had to process. It was not something that was in his nature. There was static in his head though as he stepped foot in the wing that Ezekiel had inhabited. Static that had caused him to break whatever was in his line of sight.

A table. A chair. Glass housing various items that he was sure the younger vampire would have loved to stay intact. But there was nothing but static.

Not until he fell to his knees and a guttural scream fell from his lips and into the dead air around him. Then another one. And another one. It felt like he was screaming until his voice was raw and then he would scream again. Another guttural scream that held every emotion he had kept bottled within himself for so many years.

It should have been him.

"Come back. Come back. Come back."

He had not breathed in a long time, but a breath left his mouth as he did nothing but cry.

It should have been him.

The statue seemed fitting for Ezekiel. Hakan had the thought that his dear progeny would have liked it. He was not sure how long he had stood there, but he had left eventually. He had left to where the young vampire had been before death had taken him the first time.

That Amaranthus graveyard was not his home, but it had been Ezekiel's. A hand pressed to the top of the headstone as he stood in front of it.

"At least I showed up, right?"

He looked at the writing on the headstone again, his hand lifting away. Resting atop the stone were a pair of diamond fangs that Hakan smiled at for a moment before he flew away.

Ezekiel Christopher Urquhart August 11th 1995 - September 30th 2022 Beloved Son, Brother, and Witch I am not there, I did not die

[ashrodisiac]

SOO i scrolled way back my notes and found this from, like, 2-3 years ago‼️‼️

[ 1 ]

Naora moved swiftly from one tree branch to another and glanced around. Something doesn't feel right. she thought, tugging on her hood. She heard the faint sound of rustling and whirled, but to her disappointment, nothing new greeted the eye, but the dark of the night.

"Hey Naora!"

"Holy crap!" she stumbled forward, clawing at the wood, one foot in the air. She slowly turned around. "Tyler." she said in a tone of disgust, rolling her eyes. "You know I could've died if I fell, right?"

Tyler shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked. "But you didn't, right?" he patted her shoulder. "Anyways, it's my shift now to watch over if any humans intrude. Ya know, with my night vision thing,"

"Wow, so cool. Night vision thing." Naora muttered sarcastically.

"It's better than having a tail. I mean, what does it even do? whap people in the face?" Tyler said, squatting down and pointing at the furred tail curled behind her left leg, peeking out her dress. She whipped it at his eye. "Agh!" he shrieked, holding his face. "I think I'm blind!"

"You did say it could whap people in the face, and it did."

"Ahh, whatever. One blind eye is probably better than having to poke a hole in your underwear so your tail fits out."

"Don't go there," Naora snorted. "I'm out. Have fun on your shift, night vision guy."

"Right. G'night, tail girl."

she gave him a slight shove and climbed down the branches, then hopped down at the very last step. "Naora," she heard. "What's wrong, Ki?" she asked. A girl a few inches shorter than her with unusual yellowish skin and curled, orange hair and fierce eyes with slit pupils stared up at her. "We've had several suspicions of a human wandering out here." she said seriously, crossing her arms. "You and me were assigned to find it."

"s'that so?" Naora rested her fingers on the handle of her dagger. "Let's hunt it down, then."

"I have no idea why I had been assigned with you, you who holds no strength, no intelligence." Ki sighed. "All you do is yada yada around here with your face-whapping tail, and yes. I saw that."

"Hey, atleast I have dagger skills."

"Whatever. For now, go to sleep to get ready for tomorrow."

"Noted." Naora passed by Ki and into a campsite-like place. She seated herself on a fallen log, decorated with plants growing out of it and watched the little girl Maria flap her colorful wings, reaching up into the sky and raising her arm up as if touching the stars and giggling, Roger chow down steak, his wolf ears twitching furiously at every little sound Maria makes, and everyone else. Terry and Cherry, the rabbit siblings began quarreling about whether lava was a liquid. Klara stepped forward, pushing them apart from each other. "Now, now, you two." she said with a gentle voice, smiling softly. "war makes it worse."

Naora sighed, sinking into her seat and closed her eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep.

[ 2 ]

"Naora! Naora! Ki! Roger! Everyone, wake up!"

Naora drowsily opened one eye, then another. It was still dark, the sky like a black canvas with tiny dots of white. Someone shook her. She looked up. "What do you want, Ty...?" she yawned. Ki was up, too, concern etched on her face. "Yes. What is the problem?"

Roger snorted awake. The bunny siblings were curled up, snoring. Klara was still asleep. But someone was missing...

"Maria's missing!"

Naora sat up. "What?"

"Weren't you on shift!?" Ki gasped, stumbling to her feet. Klara immediately opened her eyes as if she hadn't just been snoring lightly. Roger gritted his teeth. "Yeah. Weren't you on shift?" he growled. Tyler laughed nervously. "Well you see..." he shrugged. "I may have dozed off a little..."

"You're a half-cat, Tyler, you're supposed to be hyper energetic at night or something!" Klara yelled. Terry shuffled in his sleep, his bob tail twitching slightly. Ki buried her face in her hands. "This is why I don't allow people like you to go on shift..."

Naora's tail shivered. "Geez, stop stereotyping me!" defended Tyler, crossing his arms. "Look, we're wasting time. If we wanna save Maria from some killer human thing, we gotta be fast."

"Got a point there." Naora muttered. Without another word, Ki grabbed her leather bag and ran off. Klara picked the two little siblings up, still asleep, and followed behind her. Roger followed, too. Naora glanced at Tyler and shook her head. "You messed up real badly." she whispered, catching up with the others. "It must be that stupid human that wandered off here." Ki growled, balling her hands into fists. "I'll absolutely kill every single one of their kind."

"How do we know where we're going?" mumbled Tyler into Naora's ear. She harrumphed and walked faster to get away from him. He frowned. Even her, he thought. She pulled on her hood then looked down. "Wait!" she said. They all froze. She bent down and touched the ground, then rubbed her index finger with her thumb. "Fairy dust..." she gasped. "Maria was here!"

Ki joined Naora, squatting down next to her. She squinted at the ground hard. "She's right. There's a trail."

They all exchanged glances, and as if sharing the same mind, hurried to follow the trail of sparkling fairy dust. "Guys? what if this is a trap, though...?" Klara said, her breath shaky from carrying two children (still not awake) and running. Ki placed her hands on her hips. "If it is, we can still outsmart those dumb humans."

"Hey... guys? the trail stops..." Tyler walked up to a tree bark and pressed his palm on the ground. "The trail stops here-"

a net exploded from the leaves, caging Tyler. His eyes went wide. "Tyler!" screamed Naora, rushing to him. Ki grabbed her wrist. "Imbecile. It will get both of you trapped." she scolded, gesturing to another net hung sneakily in the leaves.

Klara slumped down, breathing hard, placing the two children down on the ground. "How do they sleep for so long?" she muttered. Roger's ears perked up, and he sniffed the air. "Do you guys 'ear that?"

"Their snoring?" Klara muttered, staring at Terry.

"Hear what, Roger?" Ki let go of Naora's wrist. Roger continued to prance around, nose in the air. "It's like... a little kid cryin'... and it smells like..."

he gasped. "Maria!"

"Is no one gonna help me here?" Tyler complained, clawing on the net. Klara patted Cherry on the head and chased over Roger along with Ki. Tyler gave a hopeful look to Naora. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "How'm I supposed to get you down, o night vision guy?"

"Your dagger, of course!"

"And how am I supposed to get up there?"

"It's simple, really..."

[ 3 ]

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, not at all am I gonna risk Cherry and Terry's life for yours."

"C'mon, tail-girl."

"I'm not gonna do that." Naora crossed her arms and glanced at the two children, still huddled up on the ground. Light was peaking out from the sky, it was turning five in the morning. The others had to find Maria. Tyler stuck his bottom lip out. "Pretty please with a cherry on top?" he pleaded.

She couldn't help but snicker. "you look seriously stupid right now."

"I could look stupid more often for you if you helped me down."

Okay, that crossed her mind the wrong way. She felt her face heat up and looked away. "Fine, whatever."

she gently shook Terry and Cherry awake. "Hey, you guys."

They slowly opened their eyes, stretching, yawning. "Where are we?" Cherry asked. Naora definitely didn't want to explain the whole thing. "Er... Tyler's stuck in a net and I uh..." she fiddled with some of her own stray hair. "I need you to go climb up there with my dagger and slice the net. It's okay if that's too hard for you."

Terry picked himself up along with Cherry, who crossed her arms. "Too hard?" she mused. "I don't think so."

Without a moment to spare, they both climbed up, fast as a flash, and was already on top. "Wait- you forgot the dagger-" Naora called. They ignored her and bared their fangs, biting into the string. Soon, the net was held up by one single thread, on the urge of breaking. Terry sank his teeth into it, and The net fell apart, and Tyler fell out. "Agh!" he rubbed his head, but then saw the look of awe on Naora's face and grinned. "See?"

"how did they not get caught by the net?"

"They're too fast to get caught."

"Remind me again that they're rabbit children."

Terry and Cherry dusted themselves when they got off. "Can you tell us where we are now?" they asked in unison.

Naora stiffened. "Oh... uh..."

. . .

Ki chewed her bottom lip. "Roger, are you sure you know where-"

"Quiet down- will ya? I'm tryna focus!"

Klara sighed. "Do you guys think Terry and Cherry'll be safe with-"

"Those two nuisances, Tyler and Naora? nah, course not." Roger groused. "Will you stop interrupting everybody?" Ki barked.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, bossy."

"Talk about bossy..." Ki whispered under her breath. She heard a faint sound of weeping. Roger's ears twitched. "She's somewhere near." he said, pushing through a bush. Klara spat on the ground, rubbing her tongue off. "I think I swallowed an ant..." she mumbled. Noises of screaming got louder to the point Roger had to pop his fingers in his sensitive ears. "Yup. Definitely Maria."

Ki's eyes sharpened. She gestured forward. "I see her."

They glanced at each other and ran. "Maria!" Klara gasped, staggering forward to the girl. Fresh cuts and bruises were everywhere on her body. A tight knotted rope dug into her wrists, and her legs were tied together, wings sliced. She gasped and sputtered, whined but couldn't form words. "What happened?" Ki asked, trying to untie her, trying not to be harsh, trying not to hurt her. Roger's ears quivered. Then his eyes grew wide. He tackled Ki, pulling her back. "Watch out!" he yelled. An arrow flew in the air where Ki had been. "I can manage by myself." Ki said as she pushed herself off him. Klara looked around in panic. "Are we being targeted?" she squeaked. Roger nodded. "We gotta go-"

"But what about Maria?" Klara said. "We just leave her here? like some maniacs?"

Ki's jaw tightened. "If we don't go, we'll-" she cut herself short. "Watch out Klara!"

Klara jerked her head southwards in search for any danger. An arrow came from the opposite direction. Roger lunged forward, but missed the arrow. It pierced through Klara's right arm, a clean shot. She howled in pain, clutching her shoulder. Maria screamed out. Ki gasped. Roger stared. Klara turned to Maria, breathing unsteady, and kept her fingers stumbling to untie the complicated knot as if she had not been shot. "Klara!" Ki said, pushing herself down, barely missing a flying arrow. "We can't leave a little girl in here... yet..." Klara breathed. Roger staggered backwards, an arrow merely missing his head. "We've got to GO!" he urged. "We'll all die!"

"No," Klara said, finally getting the rope off the little girl's wrists, pulling off the cloth tying her legs together. "Run."

Ki slung her arm around Klara and supported her up. Klara shook her head, sinking back down. "We can make it with you!" Ki insisted. Roger sighed and picked up Klara, set her on his back and gestured to Maria. "Minion girl, you take care of her."

Ki made an offended noise. "Minion? How?" she took the little girl by her waist and made an effort to not touch any of the scars.

"'cause you're yellow." he shrugged. "And short."

"..." Ki glared at him before running off, dodging arrows. A woman peeked out from the shadows and trees, barely in sight. Only her brown hair pulled up in a ponytail was seen, her face, however, was masked. Her arm was poised, ready to shoot another arrow. It was aimed at Roger. "Roger, I see the human. It's about to shoot you," Ki warned, glancing at the little girl in her arms. "You guys... are gonna die..." Klara muttered in Roger's ear as he swerved for a right. "I do love myself a motivational message." Roger grunted, struggling to keep Klara on his back. The human slowly vanished from view. "Where're we running to?" Ki asked.

"Hey, I'm following you!" Roger said. "How'm I supposed to know where you're running to?"

Ki rolled her eyes. "Seriously, I don't know where we're headed."

"You've lived in this forest the longest. How'd you not know your surroundings?"

"Well, I never did try exploring out here."

A blinding light shot through the trees. Roger shielded his eyes. "Where- where are we?"

Ki brought her long-nailed hand up and tore through the keep out tape, studying the new surroundings. Ki stumbled back. "Oh no, no. We can't be here..."

Roger glanced at her terrified look. "What? why?"

"Because..."

[ 4 ]

Tyler didn't know why she was still mad. Naora kept avoiding him. Terry and Cherry seemed to recognize the tension and kept quiet the whole walk. It was just silence, before Tyler broke it. "Why're you still mad at me?" Tyler sputtered. Naora stopped walking, but didn't meet his gaze. "You put Maria's life on the line. Who knows? maybe all of 'em are dead by now 'cause of you." she said glumly.

Tyler frowned. "But when I was stuck in the net, you were completely fine."

"What? you want me to get you stuck in another net?"

"Then would you forgive me?"

Naora looked away. "It shouldn't be me you're saying sorry to." her tail was lowered down. Her gaze averted to the sky. "I really hope they're okay."

. . .

"This is not okay."

"I didn't know angels looked so angelic..."

"What?"

Roger slipped Klara down his back and pressed his sweaty palm against her forehead. "She's going to die." he said, in a-matter-of-fact voice. "I didn't know that," Ki grumbled. A lake laid before them, green instead of clear. The smell of grass was strong, almost unbearable. Gloomy leaves hung down tree's thin barks. Ki laid Maria down on the grass. She coughed into her fist, blood spilling out. It dripped down her chin and on her stained and ripped clothing. "Klara's seein' angels," Roger said, with what seemed like genuine concern laced in his words, for the first time.

He touched the arrows stabbed in her arm, then lightly attempted to pull. She yelled out in pain, grabbing his wrist. "Don't." she whispered.

Roger's ears pricked up, and suddenly, he cupped Klara's mouth, and pressed his finger to his lips. Ki picked up on this, pupils dilating gradually.

-------------------------

i cant tell if i should cringe or be genuinely impressed i wrote this 😭

[elizaellwrites]

Thank you @daisywords for the tag!

I'm tagging: @ficsinhistory, @late-to-the-fandom, @words-after-midnight, @queerlilchinchin, and @sassyglitterchaos.

Your words are: Filter, Laughter, Worse, Quell, and Sabatage.

My words are: Drift, Dare, Please, Pry, and Bright

Drift- Not Found

Dare- Legacy of the Fallen Chap. 2

Her eyes bulged as the box almost looked like it shifted under her gaze, her breath stuttering as her hand began to shake. In the low light that strewn in from the open doorway, a second source appeared. A turquoise glow seemed to originate directly above her, dimly lighting the white walls in a blue-ish sheen. When she looked up to see what it was, however, the light followed the path of her line of sight.

She snapped her head back to look at the box, the glow following once again. Her breath was coming faster, her legs feeling weak under her weight. Her hand, still outstretched, flexed absently, the muscles in her arms tightening. A tearing sound just caught her attention, her breath stopping altogether when she saw the makings of a hole just starting to show on the side of the box.

Anna ducked into a crouch without thinking as a rip rang through the room, her arm moving from in front of her to being raised above her head. She could just see the silver flash at the top of her vision, her fist abruptly closing around something cold and solid.

She opened her eyes from their sheltered position staring at the floor, the blue light was now gone. She felt her arm lower back to her side, gripping whatever now rested in her hand with white knuckles. She didn’t dare breathe, she didn’t want to raise her gaze to look at the box, nor to see what she held. Her eyes moved on their own, straining from her bowed position to see the jagged hole that punched outward from the cardboard.

Slowly she forced her head to turn to her right hand, her fingers slipping slightly on textured metal. A silver blade expanding outward from her backhanded grip sent a gasp that shuddered her body. Crystal, wing-like structures jutted out on each side of the hilt in an admittedly gorgeous guard. A silver V-shaped joint connected the simple length of the blade which was almost as long as her forearm to the hilt, with only a sharp hourglass indent two-thirds down the blade interrupting the classic shape. She shifted her fingers slightly, the ridged lines on the grip making it easier for her hand to balance the alien object in her palm.

Please- Legacy of the Fallen Chap. 5

TW: Mentions of abuse

“Are you doing okay?” She switched topics, his face falling slightly at the question.

“No worse than usual,” he met her eyes, letting her know he was telling the truth. After all, it wasn’t like he hadn’t lied to her before.

“Will you be okay?” She watched him, her brown eyes more serious and caring than anyone gave her enough credit for. It meant the world to him that she knew his normal was bad, though he could do without her almost daily check-ins.

He hesitated in answering, the night before had been… rough to say the least. That morning, he had hardly been able to motivate himself to get out of bed. His mom had screamed at him until her voice went hoarse and then some, her feet beating into him as she loomed above.

“Stay at my house tonight,” Rachel interrupted his thoughts. “Please.”

He shook his head automatically, knowing that his mom would never allow that, especially with what had happened.

“What even happened this time?” Her voice was quiet, and he knew that some part of her didn’t want to know. He also knew that she was going to imagine the worst if he didn’t say anything, letting her imagination run wild.

“The usual,” he told her. He wasn’t going to tell her any more; he didn’t want to say more.

She bit down on her lip, her eyes growing stormy with the reddish haze she got when angry.

“I was the bigger person; literally and figuratively,” he gestured to his six-foot-tall self, trying to lighten the mood even a bit.

Pry- Legacy of the Fallen Chap. 1

She let out a soft sigh, letting her breath fog the window further. She refocused her eyes on the pavement, creating an imaginary trail with her gaze while they drove along. Anything she could do to distract her from the inevitable pattern of going to a new school would make her day better.

Truly, it was getting old. They didn’t have much to move with just the two of them, but place after place, lifting boxes and dragging around what little furniture they hadn’t sold. She was only fifteen, and she really didn’t think she was supposed to feel old already. The one hope she held about this place, above all the rest they had been, was her uncle.

Throughout the years, her father had hardly spoken of their family at all. When he did, he always spoke of them in the past tense, leading her to believe for many years that they had no other family. So when he had told her about Joseph, his brother who was only a year older than himself, she had been confused, to say the least. She had heard him talking on the phone with him many times over the last couple of months, their conversations only ever serious or sombre. What they were talking about, however, she didn’t pry.

They had been living in Minnesota for a week at that point, and her opinion of the place was no different from many other places. Whether they stayed here or left, she just wanted to settle back down, just as they had when she was younger. She knew that her father had been a restless spirit since her mother was gone, having trusted friends watch over her while he was gone for weeks at a time, sometimes coming home more disheartened than when he left. She missed him during the times he was gone, but he had always overcompensated when he came home, the affection and care he had shown her as a single father leaving her unable to hold resentment of any sort. She supposed he had waited until he deemed her old enough to travel with him, as the borderline nomadic lifestyle was not one for a kid. She had been able to see some amazing sights, however, travelling much further distances than most her age.

Bright- Legacy of the Fallen Chap. 6

Was it necessarily his business what was going on? No, but he hadn’t been able to shake the idea from the beginning that Jacob didn’t have someone to support him in the ways that mattered. Asher couldn’t pretend that he didn’t jump to adopting the socially awkward guy as a pseudo little brother; never mind that he was younger than Jacob. He didn’t know if that’s how Jacob saw it, but that was how he saw it, and that was that.

He noticed him leaning against his locker with one ankle crossing over the other, an action that sent alarm bells through his head. Never, in the six months he had known him, had he done that. It was unheard of during passing time since the hallways were too crazy to just stand in one place and expect to be given enough space for such things. Next, he was staring straight down at his hands, which were gripping each other lightly, not holding anything, not tapping against his leg or running through his hair. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

He approached his friend, dodging around other students and groups that were too engaged in conversation to notice where they were walking. He stopped in front of him, watching him expectantly. “What’s wrong?”

Jacob was very still, just his eyes raising to look at him. His unusually bright golden-brown eyes held a darkness to them that Asher wasn’t used to. He could feel his muscles tense, suddenly on high alert, but he forced himself to relax. He had to keep calm to be able to help his friend.

He looked around the hallways, sighing at the continuous flow of students all around them. He shoved the idea of getting to class on time out the window, thankful that Ms. Larson was the most likely to excuse him for a situation like this.

“Come on,” he clapped Jacob on the shoulder, pulling him from the wall of lockers and directing him in the opposite direction that he would have gone to get to class. He led Jacob back to the spare classrooms, choosing a door he knew was usually left unlocked and slipping them both inside.

He flipped the light switch quickly, revealing the multitude of extra desks that were pushed all along the walls, chairs, and more desks piled atop them. Random boxes were strewn across the floor, looking like they hadn’t been touched since the start of the school year.

He turned to face Jacob, the other boy now standing stiffly with his arms crossed over his chest. “If you want to talk,” Asher began, softening his voice. “I’m here to listen.”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Fallen For Glory (Sinner!Adam x Reader)

CW: Glory holes, sex work, Oral (M receiving), fem masterbation Rating: Adult Summary: Seven months after your fated encounter with the First man, you struggled to get him off your mind. Even after a unexpected failed early extermination and the broadcasted slaying of Adam on the battlefield, you couldn't get him off your mind as rumors of him being reborn, sentenced to hell himself made it impossible for you to let go.

And then, sitting in the both of the shitty glory hole joint Valentino ran, you heard his voice once again. Rumors were true. Adam lived and your obsession was fueled by nothing more than the taste of him on your tongue.

This was the best day at the office...

Follow up to Crash Landings- reading not required

Adam walked through the seedy streets of hell, heavy bat wings held tightly against his back. He was wound up and ready to blow off some steam. Too many disgusting sinners had fucked with him since he had landed in hell and the last thing he wanted was to spend more time around them. 

“Fuck this shit,” Adam grumbled, ducking under an awning as the sky cracked with a bolt of lightning. Acid rain wasted no time in falling to the ground, burning sheets of water that would eat through flesh and clothes. 

Whatever this building was, music pumped inside promising a good time, or at least a better time than anyone caught outside in the rain was having. 

“Holes” was plastered on the door, though Adam didn’t bother reading the small text under it as he stepped inside. 

The room was dark, lit by neon lights. A woman behind a host booth that looked more at place in a restaurant eyed him. Her breasts were hardly covered, pressed up by the hard surface of the booth as she leaned forward. 

“Yoo,” She slurred her words, clearly drunk or high on something. “You’re the first man.” 

“Yeah?” Adam puffed out his chest and held his head high, letting the light reflect off the horns atop his head. “What’s it to ya?” 

“Nothing at all,” she shrugged, “if you’ve got the fee, we’ve got a hole for you to use around here somewhere.” 

You sat on the bench in the small room you rented. The dim lights filtered in as you listened to the hostess talk with the latest client. Hearing his voice, Adam’s after nearly a year had your stomach doing flips. 

Everyone knew he had died in the failed extermination a few months ago, but if he had been reborn in hell as a Sinner, no longer a winner, was little more than rumor. Hell had a lot of rumors and, more often than not, they were nothing more than tall stories. 

This time, the rumor was true. You struggled to believe it. 

Worse yet, you struggled to understand how excited that thought had made you. It wasn’t like you had wanted to lie with him when you had seen him so many months ago. It was something you did to survive, to help him through the damned pollen that was distorting his reasoning. The little bits of purple flowers that clung to his hair made it easier. 

Yet, you couldn’t get the damned first man out of your mind. 

“Right this way, sir.” you listened as the woman walked Adam the other half of your booth.

“How do I know she’s hot?” His voice filled the small room as he stepped inside. 

“It’s a glory hole, sir. It doesn’t matter if she’s hot. Just use her holes.”

“And it… it is a chick?” 

“Yes, sir.” You answered from your side of the wall. “I’m a chick.” 

“How does this work?” Adam walked deeper into the room, peering into your side through the holes in the wall. 

“You put your cock in the hole, she sucks your cock. You pay by the minute and then fuck off.” The woman answered before leaving, pulling the curtain closed behind her. 

“Okay then,” Adam said, voice sounding awkwardly unsure for the first time. Buckles clinked as he worked his pants open, grabbing his soft member in his hand. “Just ah, give me a second to get up and I’ll-” 

“You can just put it through,” you said, turning to face the wall. “I can do that for you if you’d like.” 

“Okay,” Adam hesitantly put his semi hard cock through the hole at a comfortable height for him. 

You licked your lips and moved forward, running your tongue along the side of him, starting from as close to his base as you could reach and moving toward his head, chasing him when he shifted away from you. 

Opening your mouth wide, you knelt down, letting his cock fall into your mouth. Lips wrapped around his soft shaft as you sucked on him. The salty taste of him coated your tongue as you rolled him around your mouth. You could feel each beat of his heart in the pulsing twitch of his cock. 

On the other side of the wall, Adam groaned, “Oh fuck.” 

He expanded, growing within the warm wet confines of your mouth. Soon you were stretching your jaw open, wrapping your lips around the solid shaft you remembered pounding into your cunt so vividly. 

What would he say if he knew it was you? What would he say if he knew you were wearing the same baggy sweatshirt and tiny skirt he had fucked you in before? 

You moaned around his shaft, reaching your arms forward, leaning against the wall on your forearms. Slowly, you pulled back as you sucked hard on his shaft. The head of his cock popped from your lips as Adam thrust his hips into the wall, trying to chase the warmth of your mouth. 

“Fuck, babe.” 

Adam’s voice reverberated through the wall. You could swear you felt it run up your arms and down your spine. Licking your lips, you eagerly delve forward for more, wanting to taste his pre-cum on his cock more than you wanted anything in your very short life and even shorter afterlife. 

The head of his cock was heavy on your tongue. You moaned, wrapping your lips around the ridge of his head and running your tongue over his slit again and again. You suckled the head of his cock, pulling forth beads of pre-cum as it was the sweetest nectar in the world. 

On the other side of the wall, Adam thrust his hips into the wall again and again, seeking the feeling of your mouth around his length. He groaned in frustration, fingers digging into the crumbling drywall. There was nothing he wanted more in the moment than to reach through the wall and shove your head down his cock.

A deep moan filled the rooms as you gave him what he wanted, sucking his length into your mouth. Each prominent vein on his shaft throbbed under your tongue as you traced it. 

“Fuck. That’s right,” Adam groaned, grinding his pelvis into the wall. “Suck it,” 

Bobbing up and down his cock, you did exactly as he said, working his length in and out of your mouth as he panted and moaned on the other side of the wall. You startled as you felt a hand gripping your breast, only to realize it was your own. 

Delicious pain sparked through you as you pinched your own nipple. The feeling of being used by the first man once again had heat rushing to your core. Your hands quickly followed. 

Fingers fumbled as you eagerly pulled your short skirt up, slipping one hand inside your panties. The feeling of him thrusting into your mouth again and again as you held steady, open and nose just almost touching the wall had your folds slick and sloppy. 

Never had you enjoyed your job as much as you were this day. Fingers ran over your clit, slipping through your folds and smearing the slick around as you drove yourself closer and closer to your own finish. 

“Does that- fuck!” Adam stuttered, arrogant voice carrying even in the height of his pleasure. “Fucking feel good?” 

You moaned around his length as he hit the back of your throat. Moving closer, you took him as deep as you could, coughing and sputtering as he thrust in again and again. Your lips pinched between the opening and his cock, pain chasing pleasure as your fingers matched his pace.

“You fucking like this, don’t you?” Adam said, thrusts growing irregular and sloppy. You were so close now to your own finish. “Fucking enjoying being a mouth for my fuckin cock, don’t you?” You moaned a gargled yes as he shoved himself back into your mouth. “Want the fuckin dickmaster’s cum down your throat like the needy bitch you are?” 

“Yeaguh,” you moaned, the answer cut off by his cock again. 

“Going to cum,” Adam said as his cock swelled, “down your disgusting sinner throat.” 

That shouldn’t have done it for you. It shouldn’t have been the thing to push you over the edge. It shouldn’t have, but it did. You moaned deeply, breath coming in short gasps in time with his thrusts. Numb legs convulsed, sending you forward. The wall caught you as his cock shoved deeper yet into your throat, hot ropes of cum spewing from the tip in a violent eruption. 

You coughed and choked on the salty cream of him, fingers still lazily stroking your sensitive clit, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm as he thrust his last few spurts of cum into your mouth before pulling out of the hole. 

With your mouth free, you coughed and sputtered, clearing your throat of the seed that had gathered so that you could properly swallow him. On your knees, palms against the wall, you waited. 

“You’re good at that,” Adam said simply. You watched through the hole as he tucked himself away, working clasps and zippers. “Thank you,” he said simply before leaving. 

You’d find him again, you decided as your own leathery bat wings fluttered behind your back. You would find him and he would see that you belonged to him. He just didn’t know it yet. 

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[shade-pup-cub]

Went to a funeral today and I thought of this part of my WIP with Fierce Deity and wanted to share. ❤️

Akkala in his eyes was the most beautiful place in all of Hyrule. It was where Freya had thrown the mask into the flames, setting him free. He remembered how she looked in the light of the rising sun as she stood on the cliff's edge, smiling at him with not a single trace of fear as if she already knew who he was. Golden hair looked like a wheat field on fire when the red light fell on her, cobalt blue eyes looked directly into his soul and he couldn't look away. He was mesmerized, hypnotized by her beauty. Beauty on the outside and inside. He knew right there that he wanted to keep her safe and at his side, even when his inner demons were driving him to do things he didn't want to.

The voices whispered disgusting ideas. Ideas that would wipe out a whole community of people, if not a whole race of people, leave everything in ash and ruin. The most vile voice told him to do things to her. Things that would defile her. He tried to put distance between them, but he needed her like a sailor needed the open sea. He voiced what they were saying to him, to get her to understand and just leave him. She was too good to give up on him.

She stuck by his side during the long nights of him screaming in agony, trying to resist the urges to just kill whatever was in sight. He wanted to be better for her and not be the monster everyone thought he was in Termina. He hated the nickname he was given then, Oni. It burned his ears every time he heard it. He wasn't a demon or a devil, just a tortured soul that evil had manipulated.

And that's what Freya had seen, a being with a haunted past that needed help. As cheesy as it was, he just needed a friend. Someone he could rely on to direct him toward the path of light that he fell from when his wings were clipped. Someone to put him in his place when he was becoming a cocky ass brute. She enjoyed that more than she should have and honestly, he enjoyed watching her do it. Did he pretend to be bossy and antagonize her? Of course he did. Did she catch on? Eventually she caught the smirk he was wearing and he roared with laughter as she swatted at him then pushed him into the lake when he wasn’t paying attention. He just laughed harder.

Them falling in love was bound to happen and they were like teens that had fallen in love for the first time. Pure and real.

They made Akkala their home after they got married. They built a little house off the barely used road. It looked over the cliff where the Rist Peninsula could be seen to the south. There were no towns or villages nearby, so they had all the land they needed or wanted to raise the family they had talked about having since he asked her to be his.

Akkala was beautiful… but it didn't seem to hold as much light as it had before. After the house burned down all that was left was some of the rectangular stone structure and a small, flat, stone patio in the trees where they used to dance as the fireflies and fairies swirled around them.

In that spot is where he stopped. Broken stones surrounded a single stone that was leaning. He removed the vines and debris that covered it. He ran his hand slowly over it with a sad smile. "Hello Freya." It was her grave.

The grave he dug by himself in the pouring rain, while Link was being cared for by the pumpkin patch owner in Kakariko Village. He placed her inside the wooden coffin and nailed it shut before lowering her into the ten foot deep hole. He knew he only needed to do six feet, but he kept digging until he would have to climb out of the hole. He covered her with the wet soil that they made their home. He spent the whole night carving into the headstone. When finished, he was on his knees covered in mud and blood. The thunder covered up his screams.

He sat with his knees bent, arms wrapped around them. "I miss you, my love. I'm sorry I have not visited in so long. I know you would say that it's just a grave and you are no longer here, but this is where I feel you the most." He picked a piece of grass, needing something to do with his hands. "Link won and freed Zelda. You would be so proud of the man he has become, just as I am. He looks much like you and even makes the same faces. You would have loved Zelda, two researchers. Wouldn't my hands be full dealing with both of you? Hmm, I would have loved it either way. Especially if it meant you were here with our little girl."

He stayed silent for some time, trying to keep calm.

"I wish you were here to grow old with me, watch the children grow and maybe even have grandchildren, feel the morning sun rise and set every night. It wasn't right for you to leave when and how you did and I'm so sorry. I would take your place, given the chance. Maybe then, Hylia would have left Link alone. Then again, it wouldn't have stopped the evil from coming back."

With a heavy sigh he said, "Maybe Link was right. It would have been better if it were you here and not me."

...

[quietbluejay]

Angel Exterminatus Take 2 #18

this time: bluejay discovers to her dismay that she lied to both herself and all of you, my beautiful readers, about the existence of dreadnought mud wrestling, Fulgrim is once again Schroedinger's Nude (and also writhing and gelatinous), and Perturabo flies directly into a black hole

this is the last post proper of the book! there'll be one more to wrap up though

hey let's take a look into the psychology of our iron hands dreadnought

iron hands and night lords are united in this kind of thing apparently??? ngl reading this i'm like, how has THIS guy not fallen to khorne he's not exactly any better than kroeger it's not like being a loyalist gives your soul a protective anti-chaos talisman he doesn't care about the pathos of killing former brothers or honour or anything, he just wants to kill and then, across a battlefield, their eyes met

like a pair of, idk, bull elephants?, the two dreadnoughts slam into each other okay i misremembered there was no mud just Grendel coming in clutch with the melta to save Berossus RIP Bombastus and now it's time for Sharrowkyn to pick up the Ring the maugetar "hideous as it was to contemplate, it seemed his purpose and that of Perturabo were aligned" and he picks up a gun and fires at the stone, shattering it so, i guess the EC better pack it up, ascension ritual failed

the power rushes back into Perturabo but also some of it goes into Fulgrim

i- i thought he was naked already??? i don't even know any more

and that's how perturabo got his groove back

unfortunately, it was not done

perturabo backs away also there's a lot of screaming from the light

yeah so turns out he didn't need the maugetar or perturabo after all! he just needed someone to kill him after getting all the spirit stones

and that's when he starts snakeifying meanwhile perturabo's kind of depressed

that's a reaction all right

oh hey body horror

he's also got wings now! writhing and gelatinous…….

oh, shut up you might think, surely it's over now BUT NO

Fulgrim: byeee Fulgrim: I'll see you again and then he and the emperor's children team rocket blast off so it's just the iron warriors and iron hands left and the planet is tearing itself apart

does this count as for once making a decision to cut his losses and just go?

over with the Iron Hands, Tyro lets out a deep breath they actually managed to survive this one meanwhile their eldar guide is upset

surprise! he was a proto drukhari all along

so they were going to idk try to feed slaanesh the spirit stones in exchange for their lives? okay but also bruh why did you lead the SLAANESH CORRUPTED LEGION here? tyro doesn't really get what's going on but he gets that he got bamboozled

sure, fine, whatever so now comes the problem of how are THEY gonna get out of here also i note the planet is falling apart slowly enough for all this to be happening well on cue thamatica shows up with a bunch of storm eagles

did i miss something or did it not even cover how the iron hands got through the labyrinth at all i guess my theory was correct but still lol perturabo and the guys inside are out

but hey look who also survived

yes forrix somehow came back so they get back to the iron blood perturabo watches the world fall apart through the window

of course meanwhile perturabo doesn't know where fulgrim and the ec disappeared to nor does he care

he's so dumb

ookay let's go through the triarchs falk is now only answering to "THE WARSMITH" he's also got vibes now kroeger's somehow gotten more mature

so what IS perturabo gonna do

just the epilogue to go!

TemplarWarden: Look at that, Pertuabo bas grown as a character. Bluejay: has he? TemplarWarden: Instead of letting others make the bad decisions for him, or not making decisions at all. He's finally chosen to make his own bad decisions. Bluejay: you know what, you're right it's a step in the right direction, i guess

Lore: I'm sort of lost. Why did Perturabo join the traitors again? If he wants more 'normal' Primarchs to be with, the loyalists are at least unchanged in their particular brand of Imperial idiocy. Bluejay: he joined because he genocided olympia and was like "the emperor will never forgive me for this and even if he did, he shouldn't" huh it was some fortuitous timing this is why i've said before getting loyalist perturabo isn't too difficult he wouldn't be fixed, not by a long shot but it's not like Lion is fixed either… TemplarWarden: Yeah it's a really weird vibe If anything this would almost land better if he hadn't been a traitor at that point. Does he get anything after this book? Bluejay: honestly i think it'd be interesting to have loyalist perturabo have olympia revolt during the heresy or explicitly join the traitor side or something he pulls the same move and then just get lauded by everyone and then have him switch sides

coming back to this…would he have become a traitor without Olympia? I think it's possible, sure, even likely, but it's not an inevitability oh right gotta do the epilogue

yes he's alive in fabius' lab did fabius actually save him or bring him back? nope, he's just as puzzled as lucius lucius just randomly came back to life however first, the situation fabius' apothecarion is on fire

yeah it's our two imperial fists Fabius: Lucius! Help me~! save the gene samples Lucius: i don't want to Lucius: on the other hand might be useful to have him owe me a favour they end up saving one (1) sample, fabius successfully kills the fists, and they leave the burning room

he steps on something yellow and black and it crunches it's the tube of the one gene sample they saved and transferred there's something written on it

"Hon...Sou..."

and the book ends on that

I ran out of image space so the wrap-up will be next time once I figure out how to link discord gifs into tumblr because you all need to see the cute sneks

[madhousedarry]

The Omen: Legacy of Lunacy | Chapter 02

While this sublime spectacle was taking place above the skies of the glorious city of Jokyo, a story of a completely different kind was unfolding in the decaying town of Whorecouver, which shamefully huddles in the west of the vile country of Analda.

At that very moment, on the bank of a shit-hole river with the strange name of Phaser, sat a thirty-six-year-old guy who was dressed in a shabby black suit with a long red tie - the same as all the representatives of the bar association of the seedy town of Whorecouver.

The guy was squatting and looking at the dirty waters of the shit-river that flowed right in front of him. He could have even touched this water, he was sitting so close to it now, but his sense of beauty was so strong that just thinking about it made his face immediately distort into a grimace of disgust.

Words simply couldn't describe his feelings - they were too strong to be publicly revealed. But one thing was for sure - this guy hated the place he was in now. Hated it to such an extent that he was ready to do anything - even break the law. And that's exactly what he was preparing for now.

It's worth mentioning that this was far from the first time the idea of committing a crime had crossed his mind. And what thoughts! He had already managed to make a mess of things in Whorecouver, and, curiously, had never fallen into the clutches of the cops!

Whether evil forces favored him, or he had some rare ability to escape punishment, but whatever the case, Richard Nigel had never fallen into the hands of justice in his entire life. And that is why on this day he decided to commit another crime, which was to become the last in this city - the fact is that Dick decided to leave decaying Analda and escape to The Omen Ica, where, as he expected, he would finally be able to get into the world.

His plan was simple - to sail along the Phaser River to The Omen Ican town of Spermeattle and, as they say, to lie low there without any negative consequences. Dick Nigel didn't even think about the problems with crossing the border, because he looked at all these geopolitical hassles like a soldier looks at a louse.

He was much more worried about the river police chasing him, and he shouldn't forget about food for the trip either. Dick had already taken care of the latter - he had spent the last few weeks robbing grocery stores and hiding supplies right on the bank of the shit-hole river where he was currently sitting. All that was left was to find transportation, and that was it, half the job was done.

As for transportation, Dick had some thoughts on the matter. Or rather, they had occurred to him this morning, when he was sitting in his shelter, looking out the window that looked out onto the Phaser, and suddenly saw a small white launch moored to the shore.

This sight struck Dick so with its beauty that he was ready to run towards it at full speed that very minute, but out of a sense of cold calculation he waited until lunch, which made sense, since there is no better time to escape from vile Analda than lunchtime!

And that was why Dick was now sitting by the shore, casting inquiring glances at the boat, playing with his small dagger, which was a real work of art: its stainless steel blade was about twenty centimeters long, and the handle was worthy of a separate conversation, because in shape it resembled a gray humanoid demon with tightly knit legs, arms crossed on his chest, and remarkable gilded bat wings that grew from the demon's shoulders.

The image of this remarkable demon was completed by a snake, also gilded, which wrapped around his figure around his legs, belt and chest, and its small and detailed head rested on the blade itself.

Dick had a feeling he'd seen a composition like this somewhere before, and he remembered - of course, the exact same grey demon with a snake coiled around his body was on the cover of a 3D computer action game called "SeXeN II", the box of which he'd seen on the counter of a retro-game store! But Dick had never managed to play the game itself, for the simple reason that there was no room to put a computer in his tiny corner where he lived like a dog.

In a way, Dick felt sorry, because the last time he saw this game, the disc with it was sold at a fifty percent discount due to the fact that this game came out almost half a century ago. But since he was not a big fan of computer entertainment, preferring books to them, he regretted this only insofar as, especially since he hoped that, having left nauseating Whorecouver, he would still be able to make up for lost time and go wild, buy himself the coolest and most powerful computer and download the most accurate new releases of recent years from torrent trackers.

But now he had a completely different task before him: he had to get to the boat unnoticed and, having made his way on board, make sure that everything was in order and, having dragged all the food out of the nook, wave goodbye to the vile little town.

It was for this operation that Dick Nigel pulled out his dagger from his belt, which he was very proud of, because, as you might have guessed, he did not pay a penny for it, instead committing a daring robbery of an exhibition of bladed weapons, which took place a month ago in the Whorecouver center.

Although it was hard to call his act impudent - all he did was burst into the pavilion with lightning speed, smashed the display case with a quick and precise blow, snatched the dagger and immediately ran away. However, several strange circumstances later came to light, for example, it was completely unclear why the strange word "Megiddo" was written on the blade of the dagger, although there was no "Mega-beard" on this dagger - the demon figurine was devoid of any hair, so it is completely unclear why the gunsmith wrote such an idiotic name on it, and also made a bunch of mistakes in such a simple word. Shame and disgrace to the anonymous master!

Whatever the case, the robbery of the pavilion was accomplished in a matter of seconds, and Dick Nigel was proud of the fact that he managed to pull off the plan in such a way that the cops have never been on his trail since.

And so he was now the proud owner of a fancy bladed weapon that he hoped would serve him well in his one-year-old boat scam. It wasn't that he enjoyed killing, it was just that killing was the only surefire way to silence an unwanted witness.

And Dick had no doubt that this most unwanted witness would sooner or later stand in his way, because in the morning he had noticed two young guys on the boat, one of whom was a sullen brunette, and the other a cheerful blond.

There was nothing else memorable about these two, and therefore it was unlikely that anyone would look for them if both or one of them died after meeting his dagger, and their boat disappeared without a trace.

Thus thought Dick to himself, who, playing with his dagger, had already risen from the ground and was slowly, waddling, walking towards the cutter. Coming closer to its sides, he stopped and listened - not a sound came from the deck, which Dick considered a good omen, or, as the Romans liked to say, "omen".

Then he looked up at the stern of the boat: there stood one of those two, namely the cheerful blond. Dick saw him from behind, so he couldn't make out his face, but it was obvious that this guy had eaten a lot of porridge as a child, and not only that, judging by his hips, which were a bit wide for a man.

The blond was dressed all in black; in addition, he had a small guitar case of average quality hanging on his back… In short, he was a typical student who, as Dick understood, had gone to the river to drink with a friend and play guitar.

And at that moment Dick Nigel was so filled with hatred for this guy that without thinking twice he climbed over the side of the boat and stepped onto its deck. The student was apparently hard of hearing, because he did not hear Dick's steps, and he turned around only when the latter had already come close to him and was preparing to strike with a dagger, which was supposed to solve the problem with the unwanted witness.

The guy, seeing an unfamiliar man in a black suit and red tie walking towards him, suddenly turned so pale that he looked like a wax figure, which, as Dick knew, was the main attraction of Madame Chlusso's museum. The blond backed away, but tripped over some box and fell right at Dick's feet.

"Brother!" he suddenly shouted as Dick leaned towards him.

"Don't call me brother, the Beast can't have a brother!" Dick muttered through his teeth a phrase he had overheard in some shitty horror movie about shotaboys, which, I think, was called "Damned: The Fuck Omen 2".

With these words, Dick Nigel plunged his dagger into the guy's throat. The wheeze that escaped the blond's mouth was sweeter to him than the sexiest moans in porn movies. Not because Dick had a hard-on for guro or dismemberment, but only because his success in his mission to escape from the dirty town of Whorecouver depended on the death of this fat chubby.

As they say, nothing sexual, just criminal! Dick twirled the blade of the dagger in the blond's throat with pleasure, feeling through the blade how the unfortunate man's Adam's apple moved up and down with each turn of the blade.

When the poor guy's throat finally stopped wheezing and silence set in, Dick did not deny himself the pleasure of pulling the dagger out of the victim's body and wiping the blade on the black T-shirt of the now dead student.

Then Dick, after thinking for a moment, hid the dagger in his belt and, straining himself, lifted the corpse of his recent unwanted witness above his head and threw it overboard like a sack of potatoes.

The distinct splash of water overboard, as the killer hoped, was still not loud enough for anyone on the shore to hear it, but after all, Dick had not been sitting there all morning, patrolling the area for passers-by for nothing! In other words, no one saw the murder and its aftermath.

At least, that's what Dick thought, who in the heat of his anger didn't even notice that the murdered man's friend, that same sullen brunette, was standing at that very moment on the shore not far from the barn where Dick had been hiding.

Apparently, the cry that the blond man let out before his death managed to reach his ears, and so when he saw that the body of his friend (or maybe his brother, if you believe the words of the murdered man?) was thrown overboard, he, without a second's hesitation, pulled out his Zoppo mobile phone and began dialing the number of the coastal police.

But Dick Nigel didn't see any of this, because after throwing the blond's body overboard, he immediately forgot that he really needed to bring the supplies he had stolen from the supermarkets on board the boat, and instead immediately began to prepare the boat for immediate departure. First, he opened the gas tank hatch and made sure there was enough fuel in it.

"Well done, students, you took care of this for me," he thought, feeling a surge of adrenaline.

Then he looked into the battery compartment - everything was in its place.

"Well, I think everything will be fine," he whispered.

With these words, Dick took the key, which he had previously pulled out of the dead man's pocket, and, inserting it into the ignition, turned it a couple of times with hands trembling with excitement.

The first attempts were unsuccessful - the engine only wheezed, like that blond before his death. Dick felt fear squeeze his heart.

"What am I doing wrong?" he muttered with a fear that was not characteristic of him.

However, Dick wasn't going to give up, remembering his father's words: "Don't panic, sonnie, just figure it out." Encouraging himself with this memory, Dick reached for the fuel priming handle and began to turn it.

It seemed like it would never end, but eventually he finally felt the pump fill. Dick put the key back in the ignition and turned it harder.

"Hurray, we're off!" he couldn't help but shout happily.

Yes, the engine came to life and started, and the sound of it filled Dick with pride. Without bothering to check the instruments, which he understood no more than an octopus understood perfume, he quickly put the gear into gear, and the boat he had won in an unfair fight slowly sailed away from the shore.

He didn't know where to sail. More precisely, he knew the destination, but he had no idea what routes he would take to get there. But in his head there was a feeling that there had been nothing more unusual in his life than this trip on the river.

He even forgot to watch his course and speed. He just floated forward, and everything was fine - until a sound like a mosquito buzzed in his ears. It was so faint and distant - but still, it made Dick flinch in surprise…

And then it dawned on him: it was the coast police! They were still far away, judging by the volume of the sound, but sooner or later they would catch up with him! With this thought, he pressed the accelerator sharply to increase the engine power.

Alas, it was too late - as expected, the coast police boat was approaching quickly. It was already very close, and Dick realized - now he would be caught. And then he remembered about his dagger.

"We'll have to take out a couple of cops," he muttered through his teeth, pulling the blade from his belt.

He decided that he would defend his freedom to the last. But, as it turned out, he overestimated his strength. When the coast police boat was very close and its nose poked into the side of Dick's boat, he realized that he could not physically withstand five thugs armed with pistols.

One of the cops was already on deck, and his gun was pointed straight at Dick's face. The latter didn't even have time to get scared - he just felt a blow to the neck with a rubber baton, which was dealt to him by the second cop who came to his partner's aid, and that was it, it was over as quickly as it had begun. Dick lost consciousness.