miss-vanta-likes-to-write

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

○Chemical Burn●

○Chemtrails●

Master list has all warnings. 18+

Additional warnings ⚠️: homeless population displacement by use of force. Dehumanization of people. Violence and description of victims being shot and "mercy" killings. Forced drugging of reader.

a.n: been a brick since I've done a note at the start. Please refer to the additional warnings. I've mentioned it here, but I will restate. This is a dark fic, and if you are not ready to dislike TF 141 and their actions, then this isn't for you. I switch between reader's and Kyle's pov this chapter. I know I didn't say anyone's designations yet but that will be covered next chapter. Anyway, this is 5,100 words so buckle in and I swear to God I was possessed. Enjoy!

You could barely stand the heat coursing through your body. Lazy flicks of your wrist moved your paper fan and stirred up the warm air around you. Some form of relief is granted once the ac unit kicks on and you flop back into your nest. The four days of your heat always makes you more irritable than normal, but at least it's not as bad as some of your peers. The cycle control you take makes the symptoms lessen and be more tolerable.

There's a knock at your door and you call out, “Come in.”

The door creaks open and it's Avarice. He shouldn't be in your room and his presence lets you know he snuck in. Those honey brown eyes of his crinkle in the corners and he holds up a small plastic bag filled with little square butter mints. “Look what I got Sweetie.” He's quick to kick off his boots and strip out of his shirt before plopping down into your nest.

The growl you let out is soft with no real anger behind it, “You're sweaty and you smell like outside, get out of my nest.”

Your words don't deter him. Instead he removes the ribbon from the bag and pulls out a light blue mint, “I went through all the trouble to get you these dumb butter mints you like so much.”

The insides of your stomach flip at the way he presses the candy to your lips. He smells like outside, but under it is the gunpowder that clings to him for days when he gets back from his travels. Just beyond that, if you concentrate hard enough, his natural scent of the world right before it rains struggles to come through. He's intoxicating and you breathe him in deeply.

You open your mouth and the mint gets placed on your tongue and a burst of sugary happiness settles over you. It's not love, not just yet between you both, but the promise is there.

Candy is hard to come by, and he always shows his adoration to your sweet tooth.

“I'm glad to have you back. Be gone before my dad and mom find you up here.” You lay back down, and he lays next to you.

“Sweetie,” He sounds so loving as he brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek, “I'm glad we don't live in the cities. But it gets harder and harder to take those types of freelance jobs out that way.”

“Why?”

“It just is, an omega boy we were tasked with tracking down, poor kid who couldn't have been older than like fourteen, escaped and when we found him he killed himself.” He sighs deeply, “They medicate them to make sure they can get pregnant on the first try and if they would rather have death-” his voice trails off when he realizes what he is saying.

“God punishes those who harm the weak.” You close your eyes, “I'm too hot and tired for this conversation Avarice. So please.”

You both don't say anything else.

○Present Day.●

The inside of the green dome is humid and clean. Gas masks aren't needed here. The ground is fertile and grass grows tall but not too tall because of the livestock kept on it. The sun beams down on your face through the glass ceiling. The dome took years to be built, it's your father's pride and joy and he built it with help from the community of different packs he oversees. He's something like the high head alpha or some sort. Everyone answers to him or who works directly under him.

This place is all you've ever known, peace, clean air, being barefoot, your manicured toes digging into the soil. You're supposed to be completing your own chores, you and your dog Sacha, sent out to the fields to gather up the sheep and bring them in. Your veil hangs loosely around you, it's the pretty light blue one that all young omegas in practice of priesthood wear. It creates a barrier between you and the prickly grass, Sacha lays his head on your stomach.

“We gotta get up at some point, Sacha.” You make no move, body heavy with tiredness from the humidity. “I wish Dad would let them turn the fans on. Hell.” You complain. Sacha only whines in agreement or what seems like agreement.

“Sweetie!” The distant call of your pet name rings through the air.

Your limbs move sluggishly as you sit up to spy your brother. He's racing towards you, riding on Dune. Anansi is a freshly presented alpha, young, spry, spirited, and to you a bit of a nuisance but everyone else calls him charismatic and boisterous. Wherever he goes, pranks usually follow and plenty of complaints from the beta population of the community. He looks like a clone of your father but with your mother's coloring, just like you. Bronze skin that is slowly but surely being covered in tattoos, his curly hair frames him like a halo and pulled out of his face. Bright brown eyes sparkling in the sun like gems, and a smile so wide it nearly splits his face in half. Dune huffs and puffs as he comes to a gradual stop and Anansi hops off of him. His respirator mask hangs loosely around his neck and he's dressed like he's ready to cause trouble.

“No.” You lay back down, “Find somebody else.” Sacha barks and gets up to sniff at him. His tail wags so hard that he vibrates all over.

“You're not even doing your chores.” His voice cracks with the last vestiges of puberty. “Sweetie, come on.” He begs.

“Why, so we both can get in trouble? Besides” you close your eyes and breathe in deep, “my coverings and black veils are on the clothesline.”

“Sweetie come on, what you got on is fine and we're only going out the dome for a trail ride.” He plops down next to you and leans in close. In the most conspiratorial way ever he snickers, “Your little boy toy is on the way back, don't you wanna meet him without Dad looking over your shoulder?”

Squinting against the sun, you think about the consequences. It won't be a far ride to meet your sweetheart. He's pretty and lean with honey brown eyes and sports a silly undercut. People call him arrogant but you think he is confident. He runs in mercenary circles outside of the dome, normally taking jobs that require tracking, he doesn't say much more about it. His pack has been integral in communications and security. The sad part is that his mother and your father don't get along very well, the two alphas butting heads on every little thing. Against your better judgment you get up and ignore the dread that tries to take hold of you.

“Fine, lemme-” You can barely agree fully before your pastel gas mask is yanked out of Anansi's bag. “You went in my room?”

“Didn't want to take more than one trip.” He whistles for Dune and the horse perks up ready to go. He digs in his bag and pulls out Dune's mask along with the one used for Sacha.

“Dad and mom are going to kill me for letting you talk me into letting us do this.” In the back of your mind though, you worry about if someone will notice you outside. You have the anatomy of a female omega, male omegas can beta pass easily with the right clothing. Your scent won't be well hidden without your full body veil but you won't be too far from the dome. Sacha sits still while you snap his mask in place and then double checking after Anansi's work on Dune, you climb on with him.

To the far far east of the dome is the entrance that leads to a back road. It's less traveled by on the account of all the vegetation that grows wildly and the woods and settlements where the diseased make their shanty town. Your mother twice a month goes out this gate with a small band of acolytes and nuns. Plenty of food that can be spared and medicines that she makes. Tonics that make dying easier from the effects of polluted air and disease. Potions that stop ruts and heats all together permanently, a rather painful process you've had to help administer. It's part of the good will and the right to live and die with humanity and dignity that the world denies them. From time to time, an emergency delivery is done on runaway betas and omegas that escape their cities. Pups can't be raised out in the open, too many crazies and pup snatchers, and gangs of roaming degenerates. Sometimes to your bewilderment they get it done and before the sun is down they are headed back to where they come from. So very much wanted and unwanted pups are done away with by your mom and the older acolytes who are just shy of priestesshood.

Nobody ever calls it what it is. It's illegal and goes against the laws.

The gate is the same glass door that opens out to a decontamination chamber. Anansi puts in the access code and it hisses open. The two door system takes a moment to spray you all down before the outer door slides open to the outside world. On the other side of the glass dome, birdsong is bright against the trees. The wind blows against your face and pushes back your veil, it makes the small bells sewn into the edge of the veil tinkle. Anansi snaps the reins and Dune is off with Sacha taking the lead.

“Avarice said before he left that some cities are seeking out shanty towns.” Anansi gives you a quick glance before looking forward again.

“Why on earth would they bother those people?” You snort, “ain't it bad enough they already suffer?”

“Word got out that some shanty towns have healthy people that run there for sanctuary.” He answers back, he sounds concerned. “I hope they don't find the one near us.”

“Maybe if you ask dad again he will let you bring that boy in.”

“Nah, that ain't the issue.” He shakes his head, his body tenses, “Caleb, he's healthy, would be good and new blood in the community, but he ain't leaving his uncle. Poor man is wasting away but he's too afraid to go on his own terms.” He's solemn but perks up, “But it's okay, I'm sure it will all work out!”

You hug your brother tightly as Dune leaps over a fallen decaying tree trunk. Your mind settles on the excitement of seeing Avarice and you ignore the queasy feeling in your stomach.

○●

Deep in the woods off the beaten path, amongst the blooming trees and grasses that are out of place is a group of poorly put together tents and shacks. The trees and greenery are an anomaly against the dry land, the grasses blend into the dry cracked earth that approaches the main road. Not much wildlife roamed here except the birds that flew overhead. Their chirps were familiar and caused a sense of nostalgia to run through Kyle's mind.

Paradise doesn't have many birds and they are always scared away when the sirens ring every hour to signal the time during daylight. The surrounding areas around Paradise barely hold fertile land and inside the walls, there's not much green space as packs exist on top of each other. So it is truly a novelty when he and his team find the location that was given to them.

The encampment itself is filled with people moving about, trying to have some semblance of a life. He feels terrible for what's about to happen as soon as Captain gives the orders. These places are illegal settlements, they can breed diseases immune to the various vaccines that have been made to combat the biological warfare side-effects of the past. It's also the perfect hiding spot for fresh blood, runaway omegas and the betas and alphas that helped them. Pups that could get snatched by bad people and indoctrinated into horrendous cults. He's seen the worst that life has to offer and sometimes, people who are scared don't know any better. There's sweat on his brow, saturating his cap, he hopes the sun won't give him weird tan lines again that follow his half mask. His vest is heavy against him, but like always he doesn't mind the weight, some crazies have fashioned strange weapons these days, most of them akin to medieval melee weapons and for some odd reason everyone fights like gorillas during Vietnam.

His earpiece crackles to life and it's the Captain, “Is everyone positioned?” He's tired, and Kyle can hear it in his voice. Underneath it is anxiousness because the team he's leading is larger than normal. It's their pack and a few others hired for this contract to hunt down this encampment. The intel of some medicine woman hiding in the sticks amongst the sick and dying is doing horrible things, makes this all the more important.

It's illegal to perform and or administer care that kills an unborn pup. There are also laws about distribution of abortifants and other poisons. It's heinous, especially during a population crisis and the tricky navigation to avoid inbreeding.

There's confirmation of positions, and Kyle lets Price know he's at the choke point. Some other mercenaries are with him, both to assist and to surveill each other. There can't be any fowl play with a potential capture this large.

This medicine woman is a known alpha female. Brown skin, large no taller than 6 '0 maybe 260 pounds. She's known to travel with a group, sometimes there are armed escorts, sometimes it's just her and her followers. The followers are usually betas and omegas, and from the intel they wear gas masks, hinting that they aren't sick or defective.

“Ya ken,” Johnny's voice comes through the earpiece, his voice is always light. “What if we don't find her? Then what?”

Kyle grunts in annoyance, “Then we left Atlas with Kate and Odette for no reason.”

“Aye, ye jus a wee bit mad that his stay with them throws him off his sleep schedule.” Johnny chuckles. This causes some other people on the frequency to laugh at this too. Just about every other person has a young pup at home from the last cycle two months ago.

“Focus.” John is stern and the levity is snuffed out instantly.

There's a moment of silence, the birds become deathly quiet and it's just the wind rustling the leaves. John gives the signal and chaos can be heard. From Kyle's position at the choke point, he can catch glimpses of people scrambling. Their surprised screams rise high above the automatic gun fire, dogs are heard barking, herding them towards his team's position. The first person through the trail, bursting through the brush is young. They are thin, sickly and starving thin. Dressed in rags, exposed skin showing lesions that seemed to be open, Kyle takes it upon himself to fire the first shot. It goes through their head and they drop to the ground.

They wouldn't have passed the initial inspection of health anyway.

He thinks it's a mercy.

○●

You and Anansi had finally come to a stop just a short way from the main road, just waiting for your sweetheart's return and chatting. Sacha sniffs around the bushes and suddenly he perks up, head pointed towards the trees. A distant gunshot can be heard and then more, all of them rapid fire. You look at your brother and he's looking in that direction too. It's coming from where the shanty town is and before you can speak sense into him, he's already mounting Dune and galloping towards stupidity.

“Anansi! Wait!” You run after him. Panic grips your heart and lungs. He won't want to rest until he has his friend with him. “Anansi you idiot! Fucking wait!” It's an anxious feeling that claws at you. Terror because you never should have let him convince you to leave the safety of the Pink House and its glass dome.

Your mask makes it hard to breathe as you race through the trails. Blood rushing in your ears from the sheer adrenaline, it's distant but you can hear Sacha barking as he speeds ahead of you. Then the screams, the horrible screams that cut through the sounds of gunfire. You don't stop and push through the strain of pumping your legs, the tinkling of your veil is faint and all you can think is-

‘I shouldn't have left the dome!’ On repeat.

There is a distressed shout and the neighs of Dune, who sounds panicked. The sight that greets you when you finally break through the tree line makes your blood freeze. There are bodies bloodied and beaten, people in all black apprehending the very people you and your community have grown to care for. It's like watching a living nightmare in real-time. The only thing that breaks you out of your trance is the sound of Anansi's scream, you're moving before you know it. Dodging and jumping over bodies that resist and escape in the opposite direction. In your peripheral an arm snaps out, yanking you behind a shack. Your fists lash out, swinging blindly, but you're held still and against the side of the shack.

“Sweetie!” The scent of outside, gunpowder, and as always just under that the scent of the world before it rains while faint, stops your frantic struggle. Avarice has his respirator on, his eyes filled with fear and worry. “What the fuck are you doing out here?” He hisses and pulls you close to him, just as the heavily armed men run past the opening to where you both hide.

“We were waiting for you by the main road. We gotta find Anansi and get out of here!” The whole of you shakes uncontrollably. There's tightness in your chest.

“You gotta get out of here, I'll find him, get out of here and hide Sweetie.” He looks over your shoulder and then presses his hunting knife into your hand. “Don't look back. Keep going.”

“We gotta get Anansi! I can't leave hi-” He cuts you off by shoving you forward.

“I'll find him! Go!” He shouts over the chaos.

You take off running, following the panic towards the tree line. There's barking and out of the corner of your eye you spot it, a dog with a gas mask, with skull painted over it. It charges for you, direct line of sight. The ground is hard when you land face first. You've tripped over your skirt and your veil begins to slip free of your hair. Scrambling up, you push forward, the dog closing in on you. You've lost your brother, your family horse and your dog. Avarice is still in the chaos helping people escape and you pray he makes it out.

Pain is a funny thing. Your mother teaches that physical sensations remind the flesh and body that it's alive. Pain, pleasure, discomfort, ease, all of it keeps the body alive. So when fire shoots up your leg and through your side the first thing you think of is dying. The shock paralyzes you and before you can scramble back up a knee gets pressed into your back. Your veil slips from your head as you thrash about. You can't thrash hard enough, there isn't enough air circulating through the mask and the urge to wiggle it off is strong, but you don't.

“This one checks the initial inspection sir.” A man speaks.

“Get off me you sick fucks!” You scream and kick your legs, making the pain worse.

“It's a female, looks healthy, drag her to the keep pile.” You don't see who is speaking and through the thrashing both arms are seized and zip tied at the wrist. Your skirts are dirtied as you're tugged from the path and you get your first real look at the scene. People lay in the dirt dying or dead. Blood turns the dirt muddy, blood trails that lead in different directions. The man drops you next to other hostages that you recognize. All of them omegas and betas that had made their home in this shanty town, people you have treated.

There's another wave of screaming and gunshots to be heard, and that's when you see it, how they are clearing the area. Chasing terrified and sick people into their trap, killing those who won't make the journey and those that can and will.

It goes on, this madness for what feels like ever before it all stops. The sun is setting when the last person is zip tied and the mercy callings are done.

○●

“Cap, that's the last one. This choke point is cleared up. Fifteen headcount to take back to the city for medical attention.” Kyle stands in the middle of the trail overseeing his team collecting the dead. He tries to ignore the sobbing of the fifteen people who are healthy enough to be let into the city. He knows deep down that this is the right thing to do, but the initial feelings give him pause. In the long run, these people will thank them, thank them for getting them back to safety and in their right mind.

“Four on mah end Cap!” Johnny chirps, “Three if the one coughing is hacking up a lung from illness and not dust.”

“The area is clear.” Simon radios in.

John takes a moment before his voice crackles over the radio, “Good, let's get this all wrapped up. I don't want to be out in the open longer than needed.”

Kyle walks the trail, looking at the dead and he stops right in front of a pile of dirty fabric. It's blue and has bells sewn on it. It's too fancy to belong to any of the people that lived in the encampment. He picks it up and holds the soft slippery fabric between gloved fingers. A quick scan to make sure he isn't being watched too closely, and he then presses it up close to where his mask arches over nose. It's faint but he smells the scent of an omega just under the reeking stench of fear and panic. The lingering light balm of delicate flowers, he can't place it, his nose isn't as sensitive as Simon's. A memory is tickled in the back of his mind by the scent, warmth, laughter, scratches and heavy breathing. He sees her in his mind, bright and feisty, a bit of a trouble maker, most importantly she's alive.

She's not as he last saw her, scared, shivering, calling for her mother, slapping his touch away, crying for death.

“Uh Garrick sir?” A no name youngster brings him from his memory. Kyle glances over his shoulder and balls up the fabric tightly before stuffing it in between his chest and tact vest.

“Yeah kid?”

“We did another check of the uhm…” He doesn't know what to call them. Kyle didn't know what to call them in the beginning either. He doesn't force him to classify the people and encourages him to continue with a tip of his cap. The boy straightened up and continued, “Out of the fifteen, only six are male presenting, the other nine are female presenting. Three alphas, seven betas, and five omegas, and only one of them has a face covering sir.”

He's surprised that any of them have that. In these encampments, people tend to forego basic safety. He follows the young boy back to where they are holding their detainees, yeah that sounds better he thinks. It sounds nicer and not as permanent or dehumanizing. His gaze trails over all of them, dirty and nervous, not scared, but he stops at one. She's not rail thin or sickly looking, appears to be well fed and kept up. Her gas mask is bright and colorful, charms fashioned to it like the pups at home he's seen do. She isn't dressed in gray drab rags that are falling apart. That alone makes it so that he knows she doesn't belong.

If she isn't from here…then where did she come from?

“Stand her up.” He nods to her and the young boy hurries to do as he's told. She puts up a struggle, hiss and spotting curses, but eventually she is yanked to her feet. Kyle gets close to her, she fits some of the description of the fabled medicine woman that lingers in these parts. “You're not from here are you darling?”

She doesn't speak and her breathing is labored from either pain, exhaustion, anger, or a mix of all three. Her eyes narrow in and then she turns her head away from him. He notes though, that she keeps the corner of her eye towards him, staring at his chest. Kyle follows her line of sight and sees just the corner of the fabric poking out.

He questions her quietly, trying his best to come off as nice despite how all of this may seem, “This yours?”

“Fuck you and let us go!” She doesn't hesitate to snap back.

“Darling…” He already feels a certain type of warmth in his chest. Maybe it's grief or maybe he just misses his pup's mother. His last omega snapped often, right before she bared her neck and submits to whatever he craved. Mind made up he slings his gun into a more manageable position and then hoists the woman over his shoulder. She screams and berates him, he doesn't care since it's all hot air and lip service.

“You're a brute! The second I get free I'll kill you! My alpha is nearby! He'll kill you himself the second he gets here! I'll make sure of it!” She shrieks and wiggles, trying to dislodge his grip.

“Let's get them up to the truck, I'm sure Captain Price has already been by the other groups.” He commands his team.

He ignores the idle threats walking back to the encampment. The closer they get the thicker the air becomes with the scent of blood and gasoline. His mask filters out most of it, but the twinge of what's to finally come lingers in the back of his throat. Every encampment gets burned to the ground. Everything. Nothing can be saved or spared. Escapees that made it out past the choke points can't be left with diseased things, heaven knows what will spread. Dead bodies can't be left or the wildlife, what little still lingers such as wild dogs and cats, will eat them and spread sickness.

He passes Simon who only tilts his head in question at what he's got over his shoulder. The woman may have spotted him because she goes still and quiet immediately. Up by the truck, and really it's five of them, stands John.

He's with a medic, looking over the detainees as they are loaded one by one in the back cabin. The ones that don't make the last check before they set off are pulled to the side.

A single scream is heard before a shot silences it.

John raises both brows, noticing Kyle and his guest. He doesn't tell him no right away, stays silent so he can make his case on why she isn't walking and being given princess treatment. The closer he gets though, the more realization dawns in his blue eyes. “Whatcha got there Sargent?”

It's rhetorical and they both chuckle at that.

“Found her in the chaos sir. Smells like flowers.” Is all Kyle says.

The medic ping pongs between the two of them. “Do I check her too?” They are nervous, their voice shakes too much.

“Yeah, check her.” John reaches out to grab her by the chin but yanks back before she can clamp her teeth on his fingers. “Yeah…reminds me of flowers too.”

The medic wastes no more time before taking her temp, examining her eyes, with a bit of force they check her teeth and do a skin check for open sores that have trouble healing. She only has the gunshot wound to the leg, and is declared fine enough for transport. A needle gets pulled from the medical bag and that's when she struggles again.

“Sshh,” Kyle calms her and holds her tight. Her breathing picks up and she becomes frantic. “It's just enough to keep you calm on the ride back, don't want you hurting yourself.”

“No! No! No! AVARICE HELP!” She wails and tries to throw herself from his grip.

Plenty of people are watching now, everyone knows that name. John furrows his brow and speaks low into his comm mic. The medic struggles but the needle goes right into the side of her neck right below her mating gland. Kyle's surprised to see that it's unmarked, smooth with no teeth dents.

It makes his mouth water at the thought and implications.

“She can ride upfront with us.” John states. His comms crackle with static.

“I got him sir.” Simon can be heard and under it faintly the sound of Riley barking.

Kyle doesn't stay to hear the rest of what's said and moves to get situated. It's a two hour drive back to Paradise. The sooner they get going the better.

○●

“What happens in those big cities mom?” You ask. The work day is over and just about all of your wares and trinkets are gone. “Avarice tells me they are all different depending on who runs them.”

Your mom sucks her teeth, “They're all the same Sweetie. Harsh. Crowded. Not a lot of room to live. Everyone is in fight or flight mode. People who can tough it out, thrive there.” She looks towards the city that is walled up and shakes her head. She continues, “Folks who can make babies don't ever do well there. You can make babies and if you ever find yourself in a place like that, do everything you can to take your life or resign to submission.”

You've never been in an actual vehicle before. Your limbs feel heavy, mind clouded with fog. The last words of your mother's advice about those cities linger. Despite everything, you're too scared of death and don't want to die young. The world around you blurs, it's just shapes and distant noises. You imagine hearing the unmistakable sound of Avarice’s voice, you're not too sure. Whatever was in that needle finally pulls you under into darkness.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

He's so mean in this....who wrote this? Cause it was not me

The idea of fuck Boi Johnny getting a we're done txt and he comes to fuck some sense into you. MDNI

Johnny has you bent over the couch. The dog couldn't even wait to get you in the bedroom. His hand scruffs the back of your neck to keep you in place. He was in such a rush since getting back in the house he didn't even bother with pushing your panties to the side, he straight up ripped a hole in them. He wasn't fucking you for your pleasure, your moans and squeals of delight were incidental overall.

He was hunching with the purpose of reclaiming you. You broke up with him, telling him that you wanted something more and real and you found that in your new boyfriend. It was laughable to him, genuinely hilarious to think that you wanted some bloke with a 9 to 5. Some guy who had soft hands and an even softer temperament.

You gasp as he fish hooks his fingers into your drooly mouth. The grip wasn't better. It was a show of dominance, a reminder that it was him you arched your back for. It was him that you craved to beat in your walls, bite your soft flesh, and pump you full of his cum.

Johnny doesn't talk to you. He doesn't need to. All of that talking shit went out the window when you broke up with him over text messages. All he needs to do is fuck the good sense out of you, and fuck you so good you forget that he spent more time as a soldier and less time as your man during the year. You wanted marriage, a house, a baby? He'd give it to you as long as you played your part and gave up the pussy that was rightfully his. You wanted him to stop being a fuck a boy and ditch his roster? Sure, as long as you get rid of yours, too. Those other men and women you both had couldn't compete where they didn't compare.

He wants you to keep him, and he wants to keep you.

"Ye're 'lways gonnae be my bonnie lass. I'll just have to fuck ye till ye get it."

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Hoe what was that second chapter of chemical burn?

Bitch mercy killings? Bitch they took us! Bitch who is paying for this!!??

Ugh I can't.

~🍡

Yeah it be like that 🫣 lol. Idk I'm just trying to give you all what you voted for.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

○Chemical Burn●

○Chemtrails●

Master list has all warnings. 18+

Additional warnings ⚠️: homeless population displacement by use of force. Dehumanization of people. Violence and description of victims being shot and "mercy" killings. Forced drugging of reader.

a.n: been a brick since I've done a note at the start. Please refer to the additional warnings. I've mentioned it here, but I will restate. This is a dark fic, and if you are not ready to dislike TF 141 and their actions, then this isn't for you. I switch between reader's and Kyle's pov this chapter. I know I didn't say anyone's designations yet but that will be covered next chapter. Anyway, this is 5,100 words so buckle in and I swear to God I was possessed. Enjoy!

You could barely stand the heat coursing through your body. Lazy flicks of your wrist moved your paper fan and stirred up the warm air around you. Some form of relief is granted once the ac unit kicks on and you flop back into your nest. The four days of your heat always makes you more irritable than normal, but at least it's not as bad as some of your peers. The cycle control you take makes the symptoms lessen and be more tolerable.

There's a knock at your door and you call out, “Come in.”

The door creaks open and it's Avarice. He shouldn't be in your room and his presence lets you know he snuck in. Those honey brown eyes of his crinkle in the corners and he holds up a small plastic bag filled with little square butter mints. “Look what I got Sweetie.” He's quick to kick off his boots and strip out of his shirt before plopping down into your nest.

The growl you let out is soft with no real anger behind it, “You're sweaty and you smell like outside, get out of my nest.”

Your words don't deter him. Instead he removes the ribbon from the bag and pulls out a light blue mint, “I went through all the trouble to get you these dumb butter mints you like so much.”

The insides of your stomach flip at the way he presses the candy to your lips. He smells like outside, but under it is the gunpowder that clings to him for days when he gets back from his travels. Just beyond that, if you concentrate hard enough, his natural scent of the world right before it rains struggles to come through. He's intoxicating and you breathe him in deeply.

You open your mouth and the mint gets placed on your tongue and a burst of sugary happiness settles over you. It's not love, not just yet between you both, but the promise is there.

Candy is hard to come by, and he always shows his adoration to your sweet tooth.

“I'm glad to have you back. Be gone before my dad and mom find you up here.” You lay back down, and he lays next to you.

“Sweetie,” He sounds so loving as he brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek, “I'm glad we don't live in the cities. But it gets harder and harder to take those types of freelance jobs out that way.”

“Why?”

“It just is, an omega boy we were tasked with tracking down, poor kid who couldn't have been older than like fourteen, escaped and when we found him he killed himself.” He sighs deeply, “They medicate them to make sure they can get pregnant on the first try and if they would rather have death-” his voice trails off when he realizes what he is saying.

“God punishes those who harm the weak.” You close your eyes, “I'm too hot and tired for this conversation Avarice. So please.”

You both don't say anything else.

○Present Day.●

The inside of the green dome is humid and clean. Gas masks aren't needed here. The ground is fertile and grass grows tall but not too tall because of the livestock kept on it. The sun beams down on your face through the glass ceiling. The dome took years to be built, it's your father's pride and joy and he built it with help from the community of different packs he oversees. He's something like the high head alpha or some sort. Everyone answers to him or who works directly under him.

This place is all you've ever known, peace, clean air, being barefoot, your manicured toes digging into the soil. You're supposed to be completing your own chores, you and your dog Sacha, sent out to the fields to gather up the sheep and bring them in. Your veil hangs loosely around you, it's the pretty light blue one that all young omegas in practice of priesthood wear. It creates a barrier between you and the prickly grass, Sacha lays his head on your stomach.

“We gotta get up at some point, Sacha.” You make no move, body heavy with tiredness from the humidity. “I wish Dad would let them turn the fans on. Hell.” You complain. Sacha only whines in agreement or what seems like agreement.

“Sweetie!” The distant call of your pet name rings through the air.

Your limbs move sluggishly as you sit up to spy your brother. He's racing towards you, riding on Dune. Anansi is a freshly presented alpha, young, spry, spirited, and to you a bit of a nuisance but everyone else calls him charismatic and boisterous. Wherever he goes, pranks usually follow and plenty of complaints from the beta population of the community. He looks like a clone of your father but with your mother's coloring, just like you. Bronze skin that is slowly but surely being covered in tattoos, his curly hair frames him like a halo and pulled out of his face. Bright brown eyes sparkling in the sun like gems, and a smile so wide it nearly splits his face in half. Dune huffs and puffs as he comes to a gradual stop and Anansi hops off of him. His respirator mask hangs loosely around his neck and he's dressed like he's ready to cause trouble.

“No.” You lay back down, “Find somebody else.” Sacha barks and gets up to sniff at him. His tail wags so hard that he vibrates all over.

“You're not even doing your chores.” His voice cracks with the last vestiges of puberty. “Sweetie, come on.” He begs.

“Why, so we both can get in trouble? Besides” you close your eyes and breathe in deep, “my coverings and black veils are on the clothesline.”

“Sweetie come on, what you got on is fine and we're only going out the dome for a trail ride.” He plops down next to you and leans in close. In the most conspiratorial way ever he snickers, “Your little boy toy is on the way back, don't you wanna meet him without Dad looking over your shoulder?”

Squinting against the sun, you think about the consequences. It won't be a far ride to meet your sweetheart. He's pretty and lean with honey brown eyes and sports a silly undercut. People call him arrogant but you think he is confident. He runs in mercenary circles outside of the dome, normally taking jobs that require tracking, he doesn't say much more about it. His pack has been integral in communications and security. The sad part is that his mother and your father don't get along very well, the two alphas butting heads on every little thing. Against your better judgment you get up and ignore the dread that tries to take hold of you.

“Fine, lemme-” You can barely agree fully before your pastel gas mask is yanked out of Anansi's bag. “You went in my room?”

“Didn't want to take more than one trip.” He whistles for Dune and the horse perks up ready to go. He digs in his bag and pulls out Dune's mask along with the one used for Sacha.

“Dad and mom are going to kill me for letting you talk me into letting us do this.” In the back of your mind though, you worry about if someone will notice you outside. You have the anatomy of a female omega, male omegas can beta pass easily with the right clothing. Your scent won't be well hidden without your full body veil but you won't be too far from the dome. Sacha sits still while you snap his mask in place and then double checking after Anansi's work on Dune, you climb on with him.

To the far far east of the dome is the entrance that leads to a back road. It's less traveled by on the account of all the vegetation that grows wildly and the woods and settlements where the diseased make their shanty town. Your mother twice a month goes out this gate with a small band of acolytes and nuns. Plenty of food that can be spared and medicines that she makes. Tonics that make dying easier from the effects of polluted air and disease. Potions that stop ruts and heats all together permanently, a rather painful process you've had to help administer. It's part of the good will and the right to live and die with humanity and dignity that the world denies them. From time to time, an emergency delivery is done on runaway betas and omegas that escape their cities. Pups can't be raised out in the open, too many crazies and pup snatchers, and gangs of roaming degenerates. Sometimes to your bewilderment they get it done and before the sun is down they are headed back to where they come from. So very much wanted and unwanted pups are done away with by your mom and the older acolytes who are just shy of priestesshood.

Nobody ever calls it what it is. It's illegal and goes against the laws.

The gate is the same glass door that opens out to a decontamination chamber. Anansi puts in the access code and it hisses open. The two door system takes a moment to spray you all down before the outer door slides open to the outside world. On the other side of the glass dome, birdsong is bright against the trees. The wind blows against your face and pushes back your veil, it makes the small bells sewn into the edge of the veil tinkle. Anansi snaps the reins and Dune is off with Sacha taking the lead.

“Avarice said before he left that some cities are seeking out shanty towns.” Anansi gives you a quick glance before looking forward again.

“Why on earth would they bother those people?” You snort, “ain't it bad enough they already suffer?”

“Word got out that some shanty towns have healthy people that run there for sanctuary.” He answers back, he sounds concerned. “I hope they don't find the one near us.”

“Maybe if you ask dad again he will let you bring that boy in.”

“Nah, that ain't the issue.” He shakes his head, his body tenses, “Caleb, he's healthy, would be good and new blood in the community, but he ain't leaving his uncle. Poor man is wasting away but he's too afraid to go on his own terms.” He's solemn but perks up, “But it's okay, I'm sure it will all work out!”

You hug your brother tightly as Dune leaps over a fallen decaying tree trunk. Your mind settles on the excitement of seeing Avarice and you ignore the queasy feeling in your stomach.

○●

Deep in the woods off the beaten path, amongst the blooming trees and grasses that are out of place is a group of poorly put together tents and shacks. The trees and greenery are an anomaly against the dry land, the grasses blend into the dry cracked earth that approaches the main road. Not much wildlife roamed here except the birds that flew overhead. Their chirps were familiar and caused a sense of nostalgia to run through Kyle's mind.

Paradise doesn't have many birds and they are always scared away when the sirens ring every hour to signal the time during daylight. The surrounding areas around Paradise barely hold fertile land and inside the walls, there's not much green space as packs exist on top of each other. So it is truly a novelty when he and his team find the location that was given to them.

The encampment itself is filled with people moving about, trying to have some semblance of a life. He feels terrible for what's about to happen as soon as Captain gives the orders. These places are illegal settlements, they can breed diseases immune to the various vaccines that have been made to combat the biological warfare side-effects of the past. It's also the perfect hiding spot for fresh blood, runaway omegas and the betas and alphas that helped them. Pups that could get snatched by bad people and indoctrinated into horrendous cults. He's seen the worst that life has to offer and sometimes, people who are scared don't know any better. There's sweat on his brow, saturating his cap, he hopes the sun won't give him weird tan lines again that follow his half mask. His vest is heavy against him, but like always he doesn't mind the weight, some crazies have fashioned strange weapons these days, most of them akin to medieval melee weapons and for some odd reason everyone fights like gorillas during Vietnam.

His earpiece crackles to life and it's the Captain, “Is everyone positioned?” He's tired, and Kyle can hear it in his voice. Underneath it is anxiousness because the team he's leading is larger than normal. It's their pack and a few others hired for this contract to hunt down this encampment. The intel of some medicine woman hiding in the sticks amongst the sick and dying is doing horrible things, makes this all the more important.

It's illegal to perform and or administer care that kills an unborn pup. There are also laws about distribution of abortifants and other poisons. It's heinous, especially during a population crisis and the tricky navigation to avoid inbreeding.

There's confirmation of positions, and Kyle lets Price know he's at the choke point. Some other mercenaries are with him, both to assist and to surveill each other. There can't be any fowl play with a potential capture this large.

This medicine woman is a known alpha female. Brown skin, large no taller than 6 '0 maybe 260 pounds. She's known to travel with a group, sometimes there are armed escorts, sometimes it's just her and her followers. The followers are usually betas and omegas, and from the intel they wear gas masks, hinting that they aren't sick or defective.

“Ya ken,” Johnny's voice comes through the earpiece, his voice is always light. “What if we don't find her? Then what?”

Kyle grunts in annoyance, “Then we left Atlas with Kate and Odette for no reason.”

“Aye, ye jus a wee bit mad that his stay with them throws him off his sleep schedule.” Johnny chuckles. This causes some other people on the frequency to laugh at this too. Just about every other person has a young pup at home from the last cycle two months ago.

“Focus.” John is stern and the levity is snuffed out instantly.

There's a moment of silence, the birds become deathly quiet and it's just the wind rustling the leaves. John gives the signal and chaos can be heard. From Kyle's position at the choke point, he can catch glimpses of people scrambling. Their surprised screams rise high above the automatic gun fire, dogs are heard barking, herding them towards his team's position. The first person through the trail, bursting through the brush is young. They are thin, sickly and starving thin. Dressed in rags, exposed skin showing lesions that seemed to be open, Kyle takes it upon himself to fire the first shot. It goes through their head and they drop to the ground.

They wouldn't have passed the initial inspection of health anyway.

He thinks it's a mercy.

○●

You and Anansi had finally come to a stop just a short way from the main road, just waiting for your sweetheart's return and chatting. Sacha sniffs around the bushes and suddenly he perks up, head pointed towards the trees. A distant gunshot can be heard and then more, all of them rapid fire. You look at your brother and he's looking in that direction too. It's coming from where the shanty town is and before you can speak sense into him, he's already mounting Dune and galloping towards stupidity.

“Anansi! Wait!” You run after him. Panic grips your heart and lungs. He won't want to rest until he has his friend with him. “Anansi you idiot! Fucking wait!” It's an anxious feeling that claws at you. Terror because you never should have let him convince you to leave the safety of the Pink House and its glass dome.

Your mask makes it hard to breathe as you race through the trails. Blood rushing in your ears from the sheer adrenaline, it's distant but you can hear Sacha barking as he speeds ahead of you. Then the screams, the horrible screams that cut through the sounds of gunfire. You don't stop and push through the strain of pumping your legs, the tinkling of your veil is faint and all you can think is-

‘I shouldn't have left the dome!’ On repeat.

There is a distressed shout and the neighs of Dune, who sounds panicked. The sight that greets you when you finally break through the tree line makes your blood freeze. There are bodies bloodied and beaten, people in all black apprehending the very people you and your community have grown to care for. It's like watching a living nightmare in real-time. The only thing that breaks you out of your trance is the sound of Anansi's scream, you're moving before you know it. Dodging and jumping over bodies that resist and escape in the opposite direction. In your peripheral an arm snaps out, yanking you behind a shack. Your fists lash out, swinging blindly, but you're held still and against the side of the shack.

“Sweetie!” The scent of outside, gunpowder, and as always just under that the scent of the world before it rains while faint, stops your frantic struggle. Avarice has his respirator on, his eyes filled with fear and worry. “What the fuck are you doing out here?” He hisses and pulls you close to him, just as the heavily armed men run past the opening to where you both hide.

“We were waiting for you by the main road. We gotta find Anansi and get out of here!” The whole of you shakes uncontrollably. There's tightness in your chest.

“You gotta get out of here, I'll find him, get out of here and hide Sweetie.” He looks over your shoulder and then presses his hunting knife into your hand. “Don't look back. Keep going.”

“We gotta get Anansi! I can't leave hi-” He cuts you off by shoving you forward.

“I'll find him! Go!” He shouts over the chaos.

You take off running, following the panic towards the tree line. There's barking and out of the corner of your eye you spot it, a dog with a gas mask, with skull painted over it. It charges for you, direct line of sight. The ground is hard when you land face first. You've tripped over your skirt and your veil begins to slip free of your hair. Scrambling up, you push forward, the dog closing in on you. You've lost your brother, your family horse and your dog. Avarice is still in the chaos helping people escape and you pray he makes it out.

Pain is a funny thing. Your mother teaches that physical sensations remind the flesh and body that it's alive. Pain, pleasure, discomfort, ease, all of it keeps the body alive. So when fire shoots up your leg and through your side the first thing you think of is dying. The shock paralyzes you and before you can scramble back up a knee gets pressed into your back. Your veil slips from your head as you thrash about. You can't thrash hard enough, there isn't enough air circulating through the mask and the urge to wiggle it off is strong, but you don't.

“This one checks the initial inspection sir.” A man speaks.

“Get off me you sick fucks!” You scream and kick your legs, making the pain worse.

“It's a female, looks healthy, drag her to the keep pile.” You don't see who is speaking and through the thrashing both arms are seized and zip tied at the wrist. Your skirts are dirtied as you're tugged from the path and you get your first real look at the scene. People lay in the dirt dying or dead. Blood turns the dirt muddy, blood trails that lead in different directions. The man drops you next to other hostages that you recognize. All of them omegas and betas that had made their home in this shanty town, people you have treated.

There's another wave of screaming and gunshots to be heard, and that's when you see it, how they are clearing the area. Chasing terrified and sick people into their trap, killing those who won't make the journey and those that can and will.

It goes on, this madness for what feels like ever before it all stops. The sun is setting when the last person is zip tied and the mercy callings are done.

○●

“Cap, that's the last one. This choke point is cleared up. Fifteen headcount to take back to the city for medical attention.” Kyle stands in the middle of the trail overseeing his team collecting the dead. He tries to ignore the sobbing of the fifteen people who are healthy enough to be let into the city. He knows deep down that this is the right thing to do, but the initial feelings give him pause. In the long run, these people will thank them, thank them for getting them back to safety and in their right mind.

“Four on mah end Cap!” Johnny chirps, “Three if the one coughing is hacking up a lung from illness and not dust.”

“The area is clear.” Simon radios in.

John takes a moment before his voice crackles over the radio, “Good, let's get this all wrapped up. I don't want to be out in the open longer than needed.”

Kyle walks the trail, looking at the dead and he stops right in front of a pile of dirty fabric. It's blue and has bells sewn on it. It's too fancy to belong to any of the people that lived in the encampment. He picks it up and holds the soft slippery fabric between gloved fingers. A quick scan to make sure he isn't being watched too closely, and he then presses it up close to where his mask arches over nose. It's faint but he smells the scent of an omega just under the reeking stench of fear and panic. The lingering light balm of delicate flowers, he can't place it, his nose isn't as sensitive as Simon's. A memory is tickled in the back of his mind by the scent, warmth, laughter, scratches and heavy breathing. He sees her in his mind, bright and feisty, a bit of a trouble maker, most importantly she's alive.

She's not as he last saw her, scared, shivering, calling for her mother, slapping his touch away, crying for death.

“Uh Garrick sir?” A no name youngster brings him from his memory. Kyle glances over his shoulder and balls up the fabric tightly before stuffing it in between his chest and tact vest.

“Yeah kid?”

“We did another check of the uhm…” He doesn't know what to call them. Kyle didn't know what to call them in the beginning either. He doesn't force him to classify the people and encourages him to continue with a tip of his cap. The boy straightened up and continued, “Out of the fifteen, only six are male presenting, the other nine are female presenting. Three alphas, seven betas, and five omegas, and only one of them has a face covering sir.”

He's surprised that any of them have that. In these encampments, people tend to forego basic safety. He follows the young boy back to where they are holding their detainees, yeah that sounds better he thinks. It sounds nicer and not as permanent or dehumanizing. His gaze trails over all of them, dirty and nervous, not scared, but he stops at one. She's not rail thin or sickly looking, appears to be well fed and kept up. Her gas mask is bright and colorful, charms fashioned to it like the pups at home he's seen do. She isn't dressed in gray drab rags that are falling apart. That alone makes it so that he knows she doesn't belong.

If she isn't from here…then where did she come from?

“Stand her up.” He nods to her and the young boy hurries to do as he's told. She puts up a struggle, hiss and spotting curses, but eventually she is yanked to her feet. Kyle gets close to her, she fits some of the description of the fabled medicine woman that lingers in these parts. “You're not from here are you darling?”

She doesn't speak and her breathing is labored from either pain, exhaustion, anger, or a mix of all three. Her eyes narrow in and then she turns her head away from him. He notes though, that she keeps the corner of her eye towards him, staring at his chest. Kyle follows her line of sight and sees just the corner of the fabric poking out.

He questions her quietly, trying his best to come off as nice despite how all of this may seem, “This yours?”

“Fuck you and let us go!” She doesn't hesitate to snap back.

“Darling…” He already feels a certain type of warmth in his chest. Maybe it's grief or maybe he just misses his pup's mother. His last omega snapped often, right before she bared her neck and submits to whatever he craved. Mind made up he slings his gun into a more manageable position and then hoists the woman over his shoulder. She screams and berates him, he doesn't care since it's all hot air and lip service.

“You're a brute! The second I get free I'll kill you! My alpha is nearby! He'll kill you himself the second he gets here! I'll make sure of it!” She shrieks and wiggles, trying to dislodge his grip.

“Let's get them up to the truck, I'm sure Captain Price has already been by the other groups.” He commands his team.

He ignores the idle threats walking back to the encampment. The closer they get the thicker the air becomes with the scent of blood and gasoline. His mask filters out most of it, but the twinge of what's to finally come lingers in the back of his throat. Every encampment gets burned to the ground. Everything. Nothing can be saved or spared. Escapees that made it out past the choke points can't be left with diseased things, heaven knows what will spread. Dead bodies can't be left or the wildlife, what little still lingers such as wild dogs and cats, will eat them and spread sickness.

He passes Simon who only tilts his head in question at what he's got over his shoulder. The woman may have spotted him because she goes still and quiet immediately. Up by the truck, and really it's five of them, stands John.

He's with a medic, looking over the detainees as they are loaded one by one in the back cabin. The ones that don't make the last check before they set off are pulled to the side.

A single scream is heard before a shot silences it.

John raises both brows, noticing Kyle and his guest. He doesn't tell him no right away, stays silent so he can make his case on why she isn't walking and being given princess treatment. The closer he gets though, the more realization dawns in his blue eyes. “Whatcha got there Sargent?”

It's rhetorical and they both chuckle at that.

“Found her in the chaos sir. Smells like flowers.” Is all Kyle says.

The medic ping pongs between the two of them. “Do I check her too?” They are nervous, their voice shakes too much.

“Yeah, check her.” John reaches out to grab her by the chin but yanks back before she can clamp her teeth on his fingers. “Yeah…reminds me of flowers too.”

The medic wastes no more time before taking her temp, examining her eyes, with a bit of force they check her teeth and do a skin check for open sores that have trouble healing. She only has the gunshot wound to the leg, and is declared fine enough for transport. A needle gets pulled from the medical bag and that's when she struggles again.

“Sshh,” Kyle calms her and holds her tight. Her breathing picks up and she becomes frantic. “It's just enough to keep you calm on the ride back, don't want you hurting yourself.”

“No! No! No! AVARICE HELP!” She wails and tries to throw herself from his grip.

Plenty of people are watching now, everyone knows that name. John furrows his brow and speaks low into his comm mic. The medic struggles but the needle goes right into the side of her neck right below her mating gland. Kyle's surprised to see that it's unmarked, smooth with no teeth dents.

It makes his mouth water at the thought and implications.

“She can ride upfront with us.” John states. His comms crackle with static.

“I got him sir.” Simon can be heard and under it faintly the sound of Riley barking.

Kyle doesn't stay to hear the rest of what's said and moves to get situated. It's a two hour drive back to Paradise. The sooner they get going the better.

○●

“What happens in those big cities mom?” You ask. The work day is over and just about all of your wares and trinkets are gone. “Avarice tells me they are all different depending on who runs them.”

Your mom sucks her teeth, “They're all the same Sweetie. Harsh. Crowded. Not a lot of room to live. Everyone is in fight or flight mode. People who can tough it out, thrive there.” She looks towards the city that is walled up and shakes her head. She continues, “Folks who can make babies don't ever do well there. You can make babies and if you ever find yourself in a place like that, do everything you can to take your life or resign to submission.”

You've never been in an actual vehicle before. Your limbs feel heavy, mind clouded with fog. The last words of your mother's advice about those cities linger. Despite everything, you're too scared of death and don't want to die young. The world around you blurs, it's just shapes and distant noises. You imagine hearing the unmistakable sound of Avarice’s voice, you're not too sure. Whatever was in that needle finally pulls you under into darkness.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Johnny who has been away from u for far longer than comfortable, and when he finally gets back hes fucking frantic about having you.

He's railing u against the floor bc he couldn't wait to get to the bedroom, hands gripping ur hips hard enough to bruise "fuck- sorry- sorry, bonnie- i cant- ill be kind next time okay? Sorry- I just need you-" he mutters into the back of ur neck, while ur mind is totally blank and fuzzy from overstimulation. He already came in u once but he doesnt look like hes planning to stop.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Busy writing and I'm thinking about how people following this fic are gonna string me up by my teeth.

It will be worth it

Also trying to figure out this chapters pretty photo set✨️😀

Whats on y'all minds?

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Oh so this is a universal experience for this demographic 😂

Not a Drop

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Black FemReader

So this is based off my Cousin (Yes we are black) and when she had her first baby. I remembered this while writing. So Enjoy! PROOF READ BY LOVELY PEOPLE

Now Please don't take this to heart its light hearted and stupid. Also working on other stuff but thought it would be cute.

You'd just arrived at your families home, it had been the first time you had allowed anyone to see your newborn son. As he had been a bit of a sick baby and you wanted time to adjust yourself. You'd been thankful for the space and also for Simon's help for the first few weeks of your child's life.

Arriving the whole family was excited to see your first born. Of course however, You wanted your dad to meet him first.

Truthfully your father was quite a.. Comedian of sorts and him and Simon shared a similar taste in terrible humor which is what made them quite close.

You pull back the little tent on the carrier showing your son. Who was in his pale blue train onsie, a matching hat and gloves.

Your Dad sits there in his chair, Looking at your baby and then back at you-

A weird look goes across your face as you don't know why he isn't saying anything. Before you dad speaks.

"...That is the whitest damn baby I've seen? The Fuck (Y/N)?"

Simon pivots to the side real fucking quick as he starts to try and hold in his laughter as hard as possible but his shoulders were shaking.

"Dad!"

"Not even a drop! You couldn't squeeze a bit of color into this boy? After all I gave you to work with"

He coos as he picks up your son who rubs his gloved hands over his face before settling against your father, You standing there slack jawed.

"H-Hes fine!" You defend now red faced as Your father shakes his head in false disappointment.

"Caucasian- Caucasoid. The darkest thing on him is the got damn train on his shirt. I dont know how the fuck you won Simon but you sure beat my ass in the gene pool"

Simon is essentially crying from silent laughter at this point, you quick to smack his arm as you peel the hat off your son showing the short tufts of curly hair.

"See! Look at his hair- He is just light skinned. Don't be an ass please?" You all but beg- however you knew you were asking too much when your Father gave a sarcastic smile.

"Yes he will darken from white to beige"

Simon wheezes at this point leaning against the closest wall. Your father gently patting your sons back and looking at the thin curls on his head.

"So you made me a Justin Timberlake 2.0 as a grandson?"

You hear your poor husband now breaking out in pure laughter doubled over as you stare at both of them angrily.

"DAD!"

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Clancy you're so right. He also stares longingly and lovingly at it wondering if the matching locket with the other half of the same photo is being stared at in the same fashion too.

It's one of those minute photos from the photo booth.

firm believer that gaz keeps a picture of you in a tiny locket around his neck wherever he is.

the other lads keep pictures of their other halves in their helmets or stitched into their tac vests or in their wallets, sure.

but gaz has to feel you on him at all times. feels the cool metal around his neck and knows that his other half, his better half is always there. comforts him when he’s lying in his bunk at night unable to sleep, if he opens that tiny clasp he can drift off to the sight of your smiling face. knows that if, god forbid, anything were to happen to him you’re there with him.

it fits snugly under his dog tags so no one ever sees it, but if anything that comforts him more. you’re his. you’re his own little oasis that he knows is waiting for him back home, and if ever he’s missing you he doesn’t have to look very far.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (3/?)

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

firm believer that gaz keeps a picture of you in a tiny locket around his neck wherever he is.

the other lads keep pictures of their other halves in their helmets or stitched into their tac vests or in their wallets, sure.

but gaz has to feel you on him at all times. feels the cool metal around his neck and knows that his other half, his better half is always there. comforts him when he’s lying in his bunk at night unable to sleep, if he opens that tiny clasp he can drift off to the sight of your smiling face. knows that if, god forbid, anything were to happen to him you’re there with him.

it fits snugly under his dog tags so no one ever sees it, but if anything that comforts him more. you’re his. you’re his own little oasis that he knows is waiting for him back home, and if ever he’s missing you he doesn’t have to look very far.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Lmao Kyle be fighting for his life

You go out drinking with ur friend gaz, happy to catch up with him.

You two are besties, so its totally expected to talk abt ur sex life with eachother. Ur in the middle of telling gaz abt the most insane mind blowing sex you've ever had with a guy you grabbed from this bar. Explicit details, hell, you even mime out the dick size and that really makes gaz blush.

Gaz is in the middle of his own lackluster recounts when you perk up, subtly nod to the entrance of the bar. "Kyle- the three that just entered. Grey hair? He's the guy"

Gaz turns and nearly spits out his drink when he sees his fucking *captain* walking in. Surely not. Surely gaz hasn't just sat here and listened in explicit, pronographic detail, about how his captain fucked his best friend....

His jaw drops when prices eyes find yours and wink.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

○Chapter 2 is up●

○Chemical Burn●

CW:graphic depiction of death. violence. rape. hallucinations. dub-con. 18+ additional warnings in each chapter. Read more of what to expect here.

Comment on post for tag list please.

Intro

Sevyn looked away from his father, tears in his eyes. He's only fifteen, and he's just had his first heat. "You won't let me end up like mom, will you?"

Sevyn's father pinches together his eyebrows, blue eyes staring into his own. His fingers lightly stroke at his beard. He does that often when confronted with requests he knows he can't make promises to. He leans back in his recliner and finally looks away from his pack's youngest baby. "You, like your mother, will always be safe with us."

It's a piss poor answer. His pack can't seem to keep a good omega alive and healthy. Maybe with Sevyn, they can do it right this time.

Chemical Pregnancy.

Chemtrails.

Hazardous Materials.

Oxytocin.

Chemical Burn.

Dimethyltryptamine (DMT)

Outro

Dividers by @/cursed-carmine. all photos used in the story are from pintrest.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

As always, thanks for reading and hanging out.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Tag list reblog. Thank you everyone for reading!

@curiouslittleprincess @pocketfulofposies @rasberrybabez @hisuccubus @thetastewassweeter @spiderfly-tree-rat @theo-the-danger-mouse @demothers-empty-blog @vmaxis @gazsluckyhat @lostintransist

○Chemical Burn●

○Chemtrails●

Master list has all warnings. 18+

Additional warnings ⚠️: homeless population displacement by use of force. Dehumanization of people. Violence and description of victims being shot and "mercy" killings. Forced drugging of reader.

a.n: been a brick since I've done a note at the start. Please refer to the additional warnings. I've mentioned it here, but I will restate. This is a dark fic, and if you are not ready to dislike TF 141 and their actions, then this isn't for you. I switch between reader's and Kyle's pov this chapter. I know I didn't say anyone's designations yet but that will be covered next chapter. Anyway, this is 5,100 words so buckle in and I swear to God I was possessed. Enjoy!

You could barely stand the heat coursing through your body. Lazy flicks of your wrist moved your paper fan and stirred up the warm air around you. Some form of relief is granted once the ac unit kicks on and you flop back into your nest. The four days of your heat always makes you more irritable than normal, but at least it's not as bad as some of your peers. The cycle control you take makes the symptoms lessen and be more tolerable.

There's a knock at your door and you call out, “Come in.”

The door creaks open and it's Avarice. He shouldn't be in your room and his presence lets you know he snuck in. Those honey brown eyes of his crinkle in the corners and he holds up a small plastic bag filled with little square butter mints. “Look what I got Sweetie.” He's quick to kick off his boots and strip out of his shirt before plopping down into your nest.

The growl you let out is soft with no real anger behind it, “You're sweaty and you smell like outside, get out of my nest.”

Your words don't deter him. Instead he removes the ribbon from the bag and pulls out a light blue mint, “I went through all the trouble to get you these dumb butter mints you like so much.”

The insides of your stomach flip at the way he presses the candy to your lips. He smells like outside, but under it is the gunpowder that clings to him for days when he gets back from his travels. Just beyond that, if you concentrate hard enough, his natural scent of the world right before it rains struggles to come through. He's intoxicating and you breathe him in deeply.

You open your mouth and the mint gets placed on your tongue and a burst of sugary happiness settles over you. It's not love, not just yet between you both, but the promise is there.

Candy is hard to come by, and he always shows his adoration to your sweet tooth.

“I'm glad to have you back. Be gone before my dad and mom find you up here.” You lay back down, and he lays next to you.

“Sweetie,” He sounds so loving as he brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek, “I'm glad we don't live in the cities. But it gets harder and harder to take those types of freelance jobs out that way.”

“Why?”

“It just is, an omega boy we were tasked with tracking down, poor kid who couldn't have been older than like fourteen, escaped and when we found him he killed himself.” He sighs deeply, “They medicate them to make sure they can get pregnant on the first try and if they would rather have death-” his voice trails off when he realizes what he is saying.

“God punishes those who harm the weak.” You close your eyes, “I'm too hot and tired for this conversation Avarice. So please.”

You both don't say anything else.

○Present Day.●

The inside of the green dome is humid and clean. Gas masks aren't needed here. The ground is fertile and grass grows tall but not too tall because of the livestock kept on it. The sun beams down on your face through the glass ceiling. The dome took years to be built, it's your father's pride and joy and he built it with help from the community of different packs he oversees. He's something like the high head alpha or some sort. Everyone answers to him or who works directly under him.

This place is all you've ever known, peace, clean air, being barefoot, your manicured toes digging into the soil. You're supposed to be completing your own chores, you and your dog Sacha, sent out to the fields to gather up the sheep and bring them in. Your veil hangs loosely around you, it's the pretty light blue one that all young omegas in practice of priesthood wear. It creates a barrier between you and the prickly grass, Sacha lays his head on your stomach.

“We gotta get up at some point, Sacha.” You make no move, body heavy with tiredness from the humidity. “I wish Dad would let them turn the fans on. Hell.” You complain. Sacha only whines in agreement or what seems like agreement.

“Sweetie!” The distant call of your pet name rings through the air.

Your limbs move sluggishly as you sit up to spy your brother. He's racing towards you, riding on Dune. Anansi is a freshly presented alpha, young, spry, spirited, and to you a bit of a nuisance but everyone else calls him charismatic and boisterous. Wherever he goes, pranks usually follow and plenty of complaints from the beta population of the community. He looks like a clone of your father but with your mother's coloring, just like you. Bronze skin that is slowly but surely being covered in tattoos, his curly hair frames him like a halo and pulled out of his face. Bright brown eyes sparkling in the sun like gems, and a smile so wide it nearly splits his face in half. Dune huffs and puffs as he comes to a gradual stop and Anansi hops off of him. His respirator mask hangs loosely around his neck and he's dressed like he's ready to cause trouble.

“No.” You lay back down, “Find somebody else.” Sacha barks and gets up to sniff at him. His tail wags so hard that he vibrates all over.

“You're not even doing your chores.” His voice cracks with the last vestiges of puberty. “Sweetie, come on.” He begs.

“Why, so we both can get in trouble? Besides” you close your eyes and breathe in deep, “my coverings and black veils are on the clothesline.”

“Sweetie come on, what you got on is fine and we're only going out the dome for a trail ride.” He plops down next to you and leans in close. In the most conspiratorial way ever he snickers, “Your little boy toy is on the way back, don't you wanna meet him without Dad looking over your shoulder?”

Squinting against the sun, you think about the consequences. It won't be a far ride to meet your sweetheart. He's pretty and lean with honey brown eyes and sports a silly undercut. People call him arrogant but you think he is confident. He runs in mercenary circles outside of the dome, normally taking jobs that require tracking, he doesn't say much more about it. His pack has been integral in communications and security. The sad part is that his mother and your father don't get along very well, the two alphas butting heads on every little thing. Against your better judgment you get up and ignore the dread that tries to take hold of you.

“Fine, lemme-” You can barely agree fully before your pastel gas mask is yanked out of Anansi's bag. “You went in my room?”

“Didn't want to take more than one trip.” He whistles for Dune and the horse perks up ready to go. He digs in his bag and pulls out Dune's mask along with the one used for Sacha.

“Dad and mom are going to kill me for letting you talk me into letting us do this.” In the back of your mind though, you worry about if someone will notice you outside. You have the anatomy of a female omega, male omegas can beta pass easily with the right clothing. Your scent won't be well hidden without your full body veil but you won't be too far from the dome. Sacha sits still while you snap his mask in place and then double checking after Anansi's work on Dune, you climb on with him.

To the far far east of the dome is the entrance that leads to a back road. It's less traveled by on the account of all the vegetation that grows wildly and the woods and settlements where the diseased make their shanty town. Your mother twice a month goes out this gate with a small band of acolytes and nuns. Plenty of food that can be spared and medicines that she makes. Tonics that make dying easier from the effects of polluted air and disease. Potions that stop ruts and heats all together permanently, a rather painful process you've had to help administer. It's part of the good will and the right to live and die with humanity and dignity that the world denies them. From time to time, an emergency delivery is done on runaway betas and omegas that escape their cities. Pups can't be raised out in the open, too many crazies and pup snatchers, and gangs of roaming degenerates. Sometimes to your bewilderment they get it done and before the sun is down they are headed back to where they come from. So very much wanted and unwanted pups are done away with by your mom and the older acolytes who are just shy of priestesshood.

Nobody ever calls it what it is. It's illegal and goes against the laws.

The gate is the same glass door that opens out to a decontamination chamber. Anansi puts in the access code and it hisses open. The two door system takes a moment to spray you all down before the outer door slides open to the outside world. On the other side of the glass dome, birdsong is bright against the trees. The wind blows against your face and pushes back your veil, it makes the small bells sewn into the edge of the veil tinkle. Anansi snaps the reins and Dune is off with Sacha taking the lead.

“Avarice said before he left that some cities are seeking out shanty towns.” Anansi gives you a quick glance before looking forward again.

“Why on earth would they bother those people?” You snort, “ain't it bad enough they already suffer?”

“Word got out that some shanty towns have healthy people that run there for sanctuary.” He answers back, he sounds concerned. “I hope they don't find the one near us.”

“Maybe if you ask dad again he will let you bring that boy in.”

“Nah, that ain't the issue.” He shakes his head, his body tenses, “Caleb, he's healthy, would be good and new blood in the community, but he ain't leaving his uncle. Poor man is wasting away but he's too afraid to go on his own terms.” He's solemn but perks up, “But it's okay, I'm sure it will all work out!”

You hug your brother tightly as Dune leaps over a fallen decaying tree trunk. Your mind settles on the excitement of seeing Avarice and you ignore the queasy feeling in your stomach.

○●

Deep in the woods off the beaten path, amongst the blooming trees and grasses that are out of place is a group of poorly put together tents and shacks. The trees and greenery are an anomaly against the dry land, the grasses blend into the dry cracked earth that approaches the main road. Not much wildlife roamed here except the birds that flew overhead. Their chirps were familiar and caused a sense of nostalgia to run through Kyle's mind.

Paradise doesn't have many birds and they are always scared away when the sirens ring every hour to signal the time during daylight. The surrounding areas around Paradise barely hold fertile land and inside the walls, there's not much green space as packs exist on top of each other. So it is truly a novelty when he and his team find the location that was given to them.

The encampment itself is filled with people moving about, trying to have some semblance of a life. He feels terrible for what's about to happen as soon as Captain gives the orders. These places are illegal settlements, they can breed diseases immune to the various vaccines that have been made to combat the biological warfare side-effects of the past. It's also the perfect hiding spot for fresh blood, runaway omegas and the betas and alphas that helped them. Pups that could get snatched by bad people and indoctrinated into horrendous cults. He's seen the worst that life has to offer and sometimes, people who are scared don't know any better. There's sweat on his brow, saturating his cap, he hopes the sun won't give him weird tan lines again that follow his half mask. His vest is heavy against him, but like always he doesn't mind the weight, some crazies have fashioned strange weapons these days, most of them akin to medieval melee weapons and for some odd reason everyone fights like gorillas during Vietnam.

His earpiece crackles to life and it's the Captain, “Is everyone positioned?” He's tired, and Kyle can hear it in his voice. Underneath it is anxiousness because the team he's leading is larger than normal. It's their pack and a few others hired for this contract to hunt down this encampment. The intel of some medicine woman hiding in the sticks amongst the sick and dying is doing horrible things, makes this all the more important.

It's illegal to perform and or administer care that kills an unborn pup. There are also laws about distribution of abortifants and other poisons. It's heinous, especially during a population crisis and the tricky navigation to avoid inbreeding.

There's confirmation of positions, and Kyle lets Price know he's at the choke point. Some other mercenaries are with him, both to assist and to surveill each other. There can't be any fowl play with a potential capture this large.

This medicine woman is a known alpha female. Brown skin, large no taller than 6 '0 maybe 260 pounds. She's known to travel with a group, sometimes there are armed escorts, sometimes it's just her and her followers. The followers are usually betas and omegas, and from the intel they wear gas masks, hinting that they aren't sick or defective.

“Ya ken,” Johnny's voice comes through the earpiece, his voice is always light. “What if we don't find her? Then what?”

Kyle grunts in annoyance, “Then we left Atlas with Kate and Odette for no reason.”

“Aye, ye jus a wee bit mad that his stay with them throws him off his sleep schedule.” Johnny chuckles. This causes some other people on the frequency to laugh at this too. Just about every other person has a young pup at home from the last cycle two months ago.

“Focus.” John is stern and the levity is snuffed out instantly.

There's a moment of silence, the birds become deathly quiet and it's just the wind rustling the leaves. John gives the signal and chaos can be heard. From Kyle's position at the choke point, he can catch glimpses of people scrambling. Their surprised screams rise high above the automatic gun fire, dogs are heard barking, herding them towards his team's position. The first person through the trail, bursting through the brush is young. They are thin, sickly and starving thin. Dressed in rags, exposed skin showing lesions that seemed to be open, Kyle takes it upon himself to fire the first shot. It goes through their head and they drop to the ground.

They wouldn't have passed the initial inspection of health anyway.

He thinks it's a mercy.

○●

You and Anansi had finally come to a stop just a short way from the main road, just waiting for your sweetheart's return and chatting. Sacha sniffs around the bushes and suddenly he perks up, head pointed towards the trees. A distant gunshot can be heard and then more, all of them rapid fire. You look at your brother and he's looking in that direction too. It's coming from where the shanty town is and before you can speak sense into him, he's already mounting Dune and galloping towards stupidity.

“Anansi! Wait!” You run after him. Panic grips your heart and lungs. He won't want to rest until he has his friend with him. “Anansi you idiot! Fucking wait!” It's an anxious feeling that claws at you. Terror because you never should have let him convince you to leave the safety of the Pink House and its glass dome.

Your mask makes it hard to breathe as you race through the trails. Blood rushing in your ears from the sheer adrenaline, it's distant but you can hear Sacha barking as he speeds ahead of you. Then the screams, the horrible screams that cut through the sounds of gunfire. You don't stop and push through the strain of pumping your legs, the tinkling of your veil is faint and all you can think is-

‘I shouldn't have left the dome!’ On repeat.

There is a distressed shout and the neighs of Dune, who sounds panicked. The sight that greets you when you finally break through the tree line makes your blood freeze. There are bodies bloodied and beaten, people in all black apprehending the very people you and your community have grown to care for. It's like watching a living nightmare in real-time. The only thing that breaks you out of your trance is the sound of Anansi's scream, you're moving before you know it. Dodging and jumping over bodies that resist and escape in the opposite direction. In your peripheral an arm snaps out, yanking you behind a shack. Your fists lash out, swinging blindly, but you're held still and against the side of the shack.

“Sweetie!” The scent of outside, gunpowder, and as always just under that the scent of the world before it rains while faint, stops your frantic struggle. Avarice has his respirator on, his eyes filled with fear and worry. “What the fuck are you doing out here?” He hisses and pulls you close to him, just as the heavily armed men run past the opening to where you both hide.

“We were waiting for you by the main road. We gotta find Anansi and get out of here!” The whole of you shakes uncontrollably. There's tightness in your chest.

“You gotta get out of here, I'll find him, get out of here and hide Sweetie.” He looks over your shoulder and then presses his hunting knife into your hand. “Don't look back. Keep going.”

“We gotta get Anansi! I can't leave hi-” He cuts you off by shoving you forward.

“I'll find him! Go!” He shouts over the chaos.

You take off running, following the panic towards the tree line. There's barking and out of the corner of your eye you spot it, a dog with a gas mask, with skull painted over it. It charges for you, direct line of sight. The ground is hard when you land face first. You've tripped over your skirt and your veil begins to slip free of your hair. Scrambling up, you push forward, the dog closing in on you. You've lost your brother, your family horse and your dog. Avarice is still in the chaos helping people escape and you pray he makes it out.

Pain is a funny thing. Your mother teaches that physical sensations remind the flesh and body that it's alive. Pain, pleasure, discomfort, ease, all of it keeps the body alive. So when fire shoots up your leg and through your side the first thing you think of is dying. The shock paralyzes you and before you can scramble back up a knee gets pressed into your back. Your veil slips from your head as you thrash about. You can't thrash hard enough, there isn't enough circulating through the mask and the urge to wiggle it off is strong, but you don't.

“This one checks the initial inspection sir.” A man speaks.

“Get off me you sick fucks!” You scream and kick your legs, making the pain worse.

“It's a female, looks healthy, drag her to the keep pile.” You don't see who is speaking and through the thrashing both arms are seized and zip tied at the wrist. Your skirts are dirtied as you're tugged from the path and you get your first real look at the scene. People lay in the dirt dying or dead. Blood turns the dirt muddy, blood trails that lead in different directions. The man drops you next to other hostages that you recognize. All of them omegas and betas that had made their home in this shanty town, people you have treated.

There's another wave of screaming and gunshots to be heard, and that's when you see it, how they are clearing the area. Chasing terrified and sick people into their trap, killing those who won't make the journey and those that can and will.

It goes on, this madness for what feels like ever before it all stops. The sun is setting when the last person is zip tied and the mercy callings are done.

○●

“Cap, that's the last one. This choke point is cleared up. Fifteen headcount to take back to the city for medical attention.” Kyle stands in the middle of the trail overseeing his team collecting the dead. He tries to ignore the sobbing of the fifteen people who are healthy enough to be let into the city. He knows deep down that this is the right thing to do, but the initial feelings give him pause. In the long run, these people will thank them, thank them for getting them back to safety and in their right mind.

“Four on mah end Cap!” Johnny chirps, “Three if the one coughing is hacking up a lung from illness and not dust.”

“The area is clear.” Simon radios in.

John takes a moment before his voice crackles over the radio, “Good, let's get this all wrapped up. I don't want to be out in the open longer than needed.”

Kyle walks the trail, looking at the dead and he stops right in front of a pile of dirty fabric. It's blue and has bells sewn on it. It's too fancy to belong to any of the people that lived in the encampment. He picks it up and holds the soft slippery fabric between gloved fingers. A quick scan to make sure he isn't being watched too closely, and he then presses it up close to where his mask arches over nose. It's faint but he smells the scent of an omega just under the reeking stench of fear and panic. The lingering light balm of delicate flowers, he can't place it, his nose isn't as sensitive as Simon's. A memory is tickled in the back of his mind by the scent, warmth, laughter, scratches and heavy breathing. He sees her in his mind, bright and feisty, a bit of a trouble maker, most importantly she's alive.

She's not as he last saw her, scared, shivering, calling for her mother, slapping his touch away, crying for death.

“Uh Garrick sir?” A no name youngster brings him from his memory. Kyle glances over his shoulder and balls up the fabric tightly before stuffing it in between his chest and tact vest.

“Yeah kid?”

“We did another check of the uhm…” He doesn't know what to call them. Kyle didn't know what to call them in the beginning either. He doesn't force him to classify the people and encourages him to continue with a tip of his cap. The boy straightened up and continued, “Out of the fifteen, only six are male presenting, the other nine are female presenting. Three alphas, seven betas, and five omegas, and only one of them has a face covering sir.”

He's surprised that any of them have that. In these encampments, people tend to forego basic safety. He follows the young boy back to where they are holding their detainees, yeah that sounds better he thinks. It sounds nicer and not as permanent or dehumanizing. His gaze trails over all of them, dirty and nervous, not scared, but he stops at one. She's not rail thin or sickly looking, appears to be well fed and kept up. Her gas mask is bright and colorful, charms fashioned to it like the pups at home he's seen do. She isn't dressed in gray drab rags that are falling apart. That alone makes it so that he knows she doesn't belong.

If she isn't from here…then where did she come from?

“Stand her up.” He nods to her and the young boy hurries to do as he's told. She puts up a struggle, hiss and spotting curses, but eventually she is yanked to her feet. Kyle gets close to her, she fits some of the description of the fabled medicine woman that lingers in these parts. “You're not from here are you darling?”

She doesn't speak and her breathing is labored from either pain, exhaustion, anger, or a mix of all three. Her eyes narrow in and then she turns her head away from him. He notes though, that she keeps the corner of her eye towards him, staring at his chest. Kyle follows her line of sight and sees just the corner of the fabric poking out.

He questions her quietly, trying his best to come off as nice despite how all of this may seem, “This yours?”

“Fuck you and let us go!” She doesn't hesitate to snap back.

“Darling…” He already feels a certain type of warmth in his chest. Maybe it's grief or maybe he just misses his pup's mother. His last omega snapped often, right before she bared her neck and submits to whatever he craved. Mind made up he slings his gun into a more manageable position and then hoists the woman over his shoulder. She screams and berates him, he doesn't care since it's all hot air and lip service.

“You're a brute! The second I get free I'll kill you! My alpha is nearby! He'll kill you himself the second he gets here! I'll make sure of it!” She shrieks and wiggles, trying to dislodge his grip.

“Let's get them up to the truck, I'm sure Captain Price has already been by the other groups.” He commands his team.

He ignores the idle threats walking back to the encampment. The closer they get the thicker the air becomes with the scent of blood and gasoline. His mask filters out most of it, but the twinge of what's to finally come lingers in the back of his throat. Every encampment gets burned to the ground. Everything. Nothing can be saved or spared. Escapees that made it out past the choke points can't be left with diseased things, heaven knows what will spread. Dead bodies can't be left or the wildlife, what little still lingers such as wild dogs and cats, will eat them and spread sickness.

He passes Simon who only tilts his head in question at what he's got over his shoulder. The woman may have spotted him because she goes still and quiet immediately. Up by the truck, and really it's five of them, stands John.

He's with a medic, looking over the detainees as they are loaded one by one in the back cabin. The ones that don't make the last check before they set off are pulled to the side.

A single scream is heard before a shot silences it.

John raises both brows, noticing Kyle and his guest. He doesn't tell him no right away, stays silent so he can make his case on why she isn't walking and being given princess treatment. The closer he gets though, the more realization dawns in his blue eyes. “Whatcha got there Sargent?”

It's rhetorical and they both chuckle at that.

“Found her in the chaos sir. Smells like flowers.” Is all Kyle says.

The medic ping pongs between the two of them. “Do I check her too?” They are nervous, their voice shakes too much.

“Yeah, check her.” John reaches out to grab her by the chin but yanks back before she can clamp her teeth on his fingers. “Yeah…reminds me of flowers too.”

The medic wastes no more time before taking her temp, examining her eyes, with a bit of force they check her teeth and do a skin check for open sores that have trouble healing. She only has the gunshot wound to the leg, and is declared fine enough for transport. A needle gets pulled from the medical bag and that's when she struggles again.

“Sshh,” Kyle calms her and holds her tight. Her breathing picks up and she becomes frantic. “It's just enough to keep you calm on the ride back, don't want you hurting yourself.”

“No! No! No! AVARICE HELP!” She wails and tries to throw herself from his grip.

Plenty of people are watching now, everyone knows that name. John furrows his brow and speaks low into his comm mic. The medic struggles but the needle goes right into the side of her neck right below her mating gland. Kyle's surprised to see that it's unmarked, smooth with no teeth dents.

It makes his mouth water at the thought and implications.

“She can ride upfront with us.” John states. His comms crackle with static.

“I got him sir.” Simon can be heard and under it faintly the sound of Riley barking.

Kyle doesn't say to hear the rest of what's said and moves to get situated. It's a two hour drive back to Paradise. The sooner they get going the better.

○●

“What happens in those big cities mom?” You ask. The work day is over and just about all of your wares and trinkets are gone. “Avarice tells me they are all different depending on who runs them.”

Your mom sucks her teeth, “They're all the same Sweetie. Harsh. Crowded. Not a lot of room to live. Everyone is in fight or flight mode. People who can tough it out, thrive there.” She looks towards the city that is walled up and shakes her head. She continues, “Folks who can make babies don't ever do well there. You can make babies and if you ever find yourself in a place like that, do everything you can to take your life or resign to submission.”

You've never been in an actual vehicle before. Your limbs feel heavy, mind clouded with fog. The last words of your mother's advice about those cities linger. Despite everything, you're too scared of death and don't want to die young. The world around you blurs, it's just shapes and distant noises. You imagine hearing the unmistakable sound of Avarice’s voice, you're not too sure. Whatever was in that needle finally pulls you under into darkness.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

○Chemical Burn●

○Chemtrails●

Master list has all warnings. 18+

Additional warnings ⚠️: homeless population displacement by use of force. Dehumanization of people. Violence and description of victims being shot and "mercy" killings. Forced drugging of reader.

a.n: been a brick since I've done a note at the start. Please refer to the additional warnings. I've mentioned it here, but I will restate. This is a dark fic, and if you are not ready to dislike TF 141 and their actions, then this isn't for you. I switch between reader's and Kyle's pov this chapter. I know I didn't say anyone's designations yet but that will be covered next chapter. Anyway, this is 5,100 words so buckle in and I swear to God I was possessed. Enjoy!

You could barely stand the heat coursing through your body. Lazy flicks of your wrist moved your paper fan and stirred up the warm air around you. Some form of relief is granted once the ac unit kicks on and you flop back into your nest. The four days of your heat always makes you more irritable than normal, but at least it's not as bad as some of your peers. The cycle control you take makes the symptoms lessen and be more tolerable.

There's a knock at your door and you call out, “Come in.”

The door creaks open and it's Avarice. He shouldn't be in your room and his presence lets you know he snuck in. Those honey brown eyes of his crinkle in the corners and he holds up a small plastic bag filled with little square butter mints. “Look what I got Sweetie.” He's quick to kick off his boots and strip out of his shirt before plopping down into your nest.

The growl you let out is soft with no real anger behind it, “You're sweaty and you smell like outside, get out of my nest.”

Your words don't deter him. Instead he removes the ribbon from the bag and pulls out a light blue mint, “I went through all the trouble to get you these dumb butter mints you like so much.”

The insides of your stomach flip at the way he presses the candy to your lips. He smells like outside, but under it is the gunpowder that clings to him for days when he gets back from his travels. Just beyond that, if you concentrate hard enough, his natural scent of the world right before it rains struggles to come through. He's intoxicating and you breathe him in deeply.

You open your mouth and the mint gets placed on your tongue and a burst of sugary happiness settles over you. It's not love, not just yet between you both, but the promise is there.

Candy is hard to come by, and he always shows his adoration to your sweet tooth.

“I'm glad to have you back. Be gone before my dad and mom find you up here.” You lay back down, and he lays next to you.

“Sweetie,” He sounds so loving as he brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek, “I'm glad we don't live in the cities. But it gets harder and harder to take those types of freelance jobs out that way.”

“Why?”

“It just is, an omega boy we were tasked with tracking down, poor kid who couldn't have been older than like fourteen, escaped and when we found him he killed himself.” He sighs deeply, “They medicate them to make sure they can get pregnant on the first try and if they would rather have death-” his voice trails off when he realizes what he is saying.

“God punishes those who harm the weak.” You close your eyes, “I'm too hot and tired for this conversation Avarice. So please.”

You both don't say anything else.

○Present Day.●

The inside of the green dome is humid and clean. Gas masks aren't needed here. The ground is fertile and grass grows tall but not too tall because of the livestock kept on it. The sun beams down on your face through the glass ceiling. The dome took years to be built, it's your father's pride and joy and he built it with help from the community of different packs he oversees. He's something like the high head alpha or some sort. Everyone answers to him or who works directly under him.

This place is all you've ever known, peace, clean air, being barefoot, your manicured toes digging into the soil. You're supposed to be completing your own chores, you and your dog Sacha, sent out to the fields to gather up the sheep and bring them in. Your veil hangs loosely around you, it's the pretty light blue one that all young omegas in practice of priesthood wear. It creates a barrier between you and the prickly grass, Sacha lays his head on your stomach.

“We gotta get up at some point, Sacha.” You make no move, body heavy with tiredness from the humidity. “I wish Dad would let them turn the fans on. Hell.” You complain. Sacha only whines in agreement or what seems like agreement.

“Sweetie!” The distant call of your pet name rings through the air.

Your limbs move sluggishly as you sit up to spy your brother. He's racing towards you, riding on Dune. Anansi is a freshly presented alpha, young, spry, spirited, and to you a bit of a nuisance but everyone else calls him charismatic and boisterous. Wherever he goes, pranks usually follow and plenty of complaints from the beta population of the community. He looks like a clone of your father but with your mother's coloring, just like you. Bronze skin that is slowly but surely being covered in tattoos, his curly hair frames him like a halo and pulled out of his face. Bright brown eyes sparkling in the sun like gems, and a smile so wide it nearly splits his face in half. Dune huffs and puffs as he comes to a gradual stop and Anansi hops off of him. His respirator mask hangs loosely around his neck and he's dressed like he's ready to cause trouble.

“No.” You lay back down, “Find somebody else.” Sacha barks and gets up to sniff at him. His tail wags so hard that he vibrates all over.

“You're not even doing your chores.” His voice cracks with the last vestiges of puberty. “Sweetie, come on.” He begs.

“Why, so we both can get in trouble? Besides” you close your eyes and breathe in deep, “my coverings and black veils are on the clothesline.”

“Sweetie come on, what you got on is fine and we're only going out the dome for a trail ride.” He plops down next to you and leans in close. In the most conspiratorial way ever he snickers, “Your little boy toy is on the way back, don't you wanna meet him without Dad looking over your shoulder?”

Squinting against the sun, you think about the consequences. It won't be a far ride to meet your sweetheart. He's pretty and lean with honey brown eyes and sports a silly undercut. People call him arrogant but you think he is confident. He runs in mercenary circles outside of the dome, normally taking jobs that require tracking, he doesn't say much more about it. His pack has been integral in communications and security. The sad part is that his mother and your father don't get along very well, the two alphas butting heads on every little thing. Against your better judgment you get up and ignore the dread that tries to take hold of you.

“Fine, lemme-” You can barely agree fully before your pastel gas mask is yanked out of Anansi's bag. “You went in my room?”

“Didn't want to take more than one trip.” He whistles for Dune and the horse perks up ready to go. He digs in his bag and pulls out Dune's mask along with the one used for Sacha.

“Dad and mom are going to kill me for letting you talk me into letting us do this.” In the back of your mind though, you worry about if someone will notice you outside. You have the anatomy of a female omega, male omegas can beta pass easily with the right clothing. Your scent won't be well hidden without your full body veil but you won't be too far from the dome. Sacha sits still while you snap his mask in place and then double checking after Anansi's work on Dune, you climb on with him.

To the far far east of the dome is the entrance that leads to a back road. It's less traveled by on the account of all the vegetation that grows wildly and the woods and settlements where the diseased make their shanty town. Your mother twice a month goes out this gate with a small band of acolytes and nuns. Plenty of food that can be spared and medicines that she makes. Tonics that make dying easier from the effects of polluted air and disease. Potions that stop ruts and heats all together permanently, a rather painful process you've had to help administer. It's part of the good will and the right to live and die with humanity and dignity that the world denies them. From time to time, an emergency delivery is done on runaway betas and omegas that escape their cities. Pups can't be raised out in the open, too many crazies and pup snatchers, and gangs of roaming degenerates. Sometimes to your bewilderment they get it done and before the sun is down they are headed back to where they come from. So very much wanted and unwanted pups are done away with by your mom and the older acolytes who are just shy of priestesshood.

Nobody ever calls it what it is. It's illegal and goes against the laws.

The gate is the same glass door that opens out to a decontamination chamber. Anansi puts in the access code and it hisses open. The two door system takes a moment to spray you all down before the outer door slides open to the outside world. On the other side of the glass dome, birdsong is bright against the trees. The wind blows against your face and pushes back your veil, it makes the small bells sewn into the edge of the veil tinkle. Anansi snaps the reins and Dune is off with Sacha taking the lead.

“Avarice said before he left that some cities are seeking out shanty towns.” Anansi gives you a quick glance before looking forward again.

“Why on earth would they bother those people?” You snort, “ain't it bad enough they already suffer?”

“Word got out that some shanty towns have healthy people that run there for sanctuary.” He answers back, he sounds concerned. “I hope they don't find the one near us.”

“Maybe if you ask dad again he will let you bring that boy in.”

“Nah, that ain't the issue.” He shakes his head, his body tenses, “Caleb, he's healthy, would be good and new blood in the community, but he ain't leaving his uncle. Poor man is wasting away but he's too afraid to go on his own terms.” He's solemn but perks up, “But it's okay, I'm sure it will all work out!”

You hug your brother tightly as Dune leaps over a fallen decaying tree trunk. Your mind settles on the excitement of seeing Avarice and you ignore the queasy feeling in your stomach.

○●

Deep in the woods off the beaten path, amongst the blooming trees and grasses that are out of place is a group of poorly put together tents and shacks. The trees and greenery are an anomaly against the dry land, the grasses blend into the dry cracked earth that approaches the main road. Not much wildlife roamed here except the birds that flew overhead. Their chirps were familiar and caused a sense of nostalgia to run through Kyle's mind.

Paradise doesn't have many birds and they are always scared away when the sirens ring every hour to signal the time during daylight. The surrounding areas around Paradise barely hold fertile land and inside the walls, there's not much green space as packs exist on top of each other. So it is truly a novelty when he and his team find the location that was given to them.

The encampment itself is filled with people moving about, trying to have some semblance of a life. He feels terrible for what's about to happen as soon as Captain gives the orders. These places are illegal settlements, they can breed diseases immune to the various vaccines that have been made to combat the biological warfare side-effects of the past. It's also the perfect hiding spot for fresh blood, runaway omegas and the betas and alphas that helped them. Pups that could get snatched by bad people and indoctrinated into horrendous cults. He's seen the worst that life has to offer and sometimes, people who are scared don't know any better. There's sweat on his brow, saturating his cap, he hopes the sun won't give him weird tan lines again that follow his half mask. His vest is heavy against him, but like always he doesn't mind the weight, some crazies have fashioned strange weapons these days, most of them akin to medieval melee weapons and for some odd reason everyone fights like gorillas during Vietnam.

His earpiece crackles to life and it's the Captain, “Is everyone positioned?” He's tired, and Kyle can hear it in his voice. Underneath it is anxiousness because the team he's leading is larger than normal. It's their pack and a few others hired for this contract to hunt down this encampment. The intel of some medicine woman hiding in the sticks amongst the sick and dying is doing horrible things, makes this all the more important.

It's illegal to perform and or administer care that kills an unborn pup. There are also laws about distribution of abortifants and other poisons. It's heinous, especially during a population crisis and the tricky navigation to avoid inbreeding.

There's confirmation of positions, and Kyle lets Price know he's at the choke point. Some other mercenaries are with him, both to assist and to surveill each other. There can't be any fowl play with a potential capture this large.

This medicine woman is a known alpha female. Brown skin, large no taller than 6 '0 maybe 260 pounds. She's known to travel with a group, sometimes there are armed escorts, sometimes it's just her and her followers. The followers are usually betas and omegas, and from the intel they wear gas masks, hinting that they aren't sick or defective.

“Ya ken,” Johnny's voice comes through the earpiece, his voice is always light. “What if we don't find her? Then what?”

Kyle grunts in annoyance, “Then we left Atlas with Kate and Odette for no reason.”

“Aye, ye jus a wee bit mad that his stay with them throws him off his sleep schedule.” Johnny chuckles. This causes some other people on the frequency to laugh at this too. Just about every other person has a young pup at home from the last cycle two months ago.

“Focus.” John is stern and the levity is snuffed out instantly.

There's a moment of silence, the birds become deathly quiet and it's just the wind rustling the leaves. John gives the signal and chaos can be heard. From Kyle's position at the choke point, he can catch glimpses of people scrambling. Their surprised screams rise high above the automatic gun fire, dogs are heard barking, herding them towards his team's position. The first person through the trail, bursting through the brush is young. They are thin, sickly and starving thin. Dressed in rags, exposed skin showing lesions that seemed to be open, Kyle takes it upon himself to fire the first shot. It goes through their head and they drop to the ground.

They wouldn't have passed the initial inspection of health anyway.

He thinks it's a mercy.

○●

You and Anansi had finally come to a stop just a short way from the main road, just waiting for your sweetheart's return and chatting. Sacha sniffs around the bushes and suddenly he perks up, head pointed towards the trees. A distant gunshot can be heard and then more, all of them rapid fire. You look at your brother and he's looking in that direction too. It's coming from where the shanty town is and before you can speak sense into him, he's already mounting Dune and galloping towards stupidity.

“Anansi! Wait!” You run after him. Panic grips your heart and lungs. He won't want to rest until he has his friend with him. “Anansi you idiot! Fucking wait!” It's an anxious feeling that claws at you. Terror because you never should have let him convince you to leave the safety of the Pink House and its glass dome.

Your mask makes it hard to breathe as you race through the trails. Blood rushing in your ears from the sheer adrenaline, it's distant but you can hear Sacha barking as he speeds ahead of you. Then the screams, the horrible screams that cut through the sounds of gunfire. You don't stop and push through the strain of pumping your legs, the tinkling of your veil is faint and all you can think is-

‘I shouldn't have left the dome!’ On repeat.

There is a distressed shout and the neighs of Dune, who sounds panicked. The sight that greets you when you finally break through the tree line makes your blood freeze. There are bodies bloodied and beaten, people in all black apprehending the very people you and your community have grown to care for. It's like watching a living nightmare in real-time. The only thing that breaks you out of your trance is the sound of Anansi's scream, you're moving before you know it. Dodging and jumping over bodies that resist and escape in the opposite direction. In your peripheral an arm snaps out, yanking you behind a shack. Your fists lash out, swinging blindly, but you're held still and against the side of the shack.

“Sweetie!” The scent of outside, gunpowder, and as always just under that the scent of the world before it rains while faint, stops your frantic struggle. Avarice has his respirator on, his eyes filled with fear and worry. “What the fuck are you doing out here?” He hisses and pulls you close to him, just as the heavily armed men run past the opening to where you both hide.

“We were waiting for you by the main road. We gotta find Anansi and get out of here!” The whole of you shakes uncontrollably. There's tightness in your chest.

“You gotta get out of here, I'll find him, get out of here and hide Sweetie.” He looks over your shoulder and then presses his hunting knife into your hand. “Don't look back. Keep going.”

“We gotta get Anansi! I can't leave hi-” He cuts you off by shoving you forward.

“I'll find him! Go!” He shouts over the chaos.

You take off running, following the panic towards the tree line. There's barking and out of the corner of your eye you spot it, a dog with a gas mask, with skull painted over it. It charges for you, direct line of sight. The ground is hard when you land face first. You've tripped over your skirt and your veil begins to slip free of your hair. Scrambling up, you push forward, the dog closing in on you. You've lost your brother, your family horse and your dog. Avarice is still in the chaos helping people escape and you pray he makes it out.

Pain is a funny thing. Your mother teaches that physical sensations remind the flesh and body that it's alive. Pain, pleasure, discomfort, ease, all of it keeps the body alive. So when fire shoots up your leg and through your side the first thing you think of is dying. The shock paralyzes you and before you can scramble back up a knee gets pressed into your back. Your veil slips from your head as you thrash about. You can't thrash hard enough, there isn't enough air circulating through the mask and the urge to wiggle it off is strong, but you don't.

“This one checks the initial inspection sir.” A man speaks.

“Get off me you sick fucks!” You scream and kick your legs, making the pain worse.

“It's a female, looks healthy, drag her to the keep pile.” You don't see who is speaking and through the thrashing both arms are seized and zip tied at the wrist. Your skirts are dirtied as you're tugged from the path and you get your first real look at the scene. People lay in the dirt dying or dead. Blood turns the dirt muddy, blood trails that lead in different directions. The man drops you next to other hostages that you recognize. All of them omegas and betas that had made their home in this shanty town, people you have treated.

There's another wave of screaming and gunshots to be heard, and that's when you see it, how they are clearing the area. Chasing terrified and sick people into their trap, killing those who won't make the journey and those that can and will.

It goes on, this madness for what feels like ever before it all stops. The sun is setting when the last person is zip tied and the mercy callings are done.

○●

“Cap, that's the last one. This choke point is cleared up. Fifteen headcount to take back to the city for medical attention.” Kyle stands in the middle of the trail overseeing his team collecting the dead. He tries to ignore the sobbing of the fifteen people who are healthy enough to be let into the city. He knows deep down that this is the right thing to do, but the initial feelings give him pause. In the long run, these people will thank them, thank them for getting them back to safety and in their right mind.

“Four on mah end Cap!” Johnny chirps, “Three if the one coughing is hacking up a lung from illness and not dust.”

“The area is clear.” Simon radios in.

John takes a moment before his voice crackles over the radio, “Good, let's get this all wrapped up. I don't want to be out in the open longer than needed.”

Kyle walks the trail, looking at the dead and he stops right in front of a pile of dirty fabric. It's blue and has bells sewn on it. It's too fancy to belong to any of the people that lived in the encampment. He picks it up and holds the soft slippery fabric between gloved fingers. A quick scan to make sure he isn't being watched too closely, and he then presses it up close to where his mask arches over nose. It's faint but he smells the scent of an omega just under the reeking stench of fear and panic. The lingering light balm of delicate flowers, he can't place it, his nose isn't as sensitive as Simon's. A memory is tickled in the back of his mind by the scent, warmth, laughter, scratches and heavy breathing. He sees her in his mind, bright and feisty, a bit of a trouble maker, most importantly she's alive.

She's not as he last saw her, scared, shivering, calling for her mother, slapping his touch away, crying for death.

“Uh Garrick sir?” A no name youngster brings him from his memory. Kyle glances over his shoulder and balls up the fabric tightly before stuffing it in between his chest and tact vest.

“Yeah kid?”

“We did another check of the uhm…” He doesn't know what to call them. Kyle didn't know what to call them in the beginning either. He doesn't force him to classify the people and encourages him to continue with a tip of his cap. The boy straightened up and continued, “Out of the fifteen, only six are male presenting, the other nine are female presenting. Three alphas, seven betas, and five omegas, and only one of them has a face covering sir.”

He's surprised that any of them have that. In these encampments, people tend to forego basic safety. He follows the young boy back to where they are holding their detainees, yeah that sounds better he thinks. It sounds nicer and not as permanent or dehumanizing. His gaze trails over all of them, dirty and nervous, not scared, but he stops at one. She's not rail thin or sickly looking, appears to be well fed and kept up. Her gas mask is bright and colorful, charms fashioned to it like the pups at home he's seen do. She isn't dressed in gray drab rags that are falling apart. That alone makes it so that he knows she doesn't belong.

If she isn't from here…then where did she come from?

“Stand her up.” He nods to her and the young boy hurries to do as he's told. She puts up a struggle, hiss and spotting curses, but eventually she is yanked to her feet. Kyle gets close to her, she fits some of the description of the fabled medicine woman that lingers in these parts. “You're not from here are you darling?”

She doesn't speak and her breathing is labored from either pain, exhaustion, anger, or a mix of all three. Her eyes narrow in and then she turns her head away from him. He notes though, that she keeps the corner of her eye towards him, staring at his chest. Kyle follows her line of sight and sees just the corner of the fabric poking out.

He questions her quietly, trying his best to come off as nice despite how all of this may seem, “This yours?”

“Fuck you and let us go!” She doesn't hesitate to snap back.

“Darling…” He already feels a certain type of warmth in his chest. Maybe it's grief or maybe he just misses his pup's mother. His last omega snapped often, right before she bared her neck and submits to whatever he craved. Mind made up he slings his gun into a more manageable position and then hoists the woman over his shoulder. She screams and berates him, he doesn't care since it's all hot air and lip service.

“You're a brute! The second I get free I'll kill you! My alpha is nearby! He'll kill you himself the second he gets here! I'll make sure of it!” She shrieks and wiggles, trying to dislodge his grip.

“Let's get them up to the truck, I'm sure Captain Price has already been by the other groups.” He commands his team.

He ignores the idle threats walking back to the encampment. The closer they get the thicker the air becomes with the scent of blood and gasoline. His mask filters out most of it, but the twinge of what's to finally come lingers in the back of his throat. Every encampment gets burned to the ground. Everything. Nothing can be saved or spared. Escapees that made it out past the choke points can't be left with diseased things, heaven knows what will spread. Dead bodies can't be left or the wildlife, what little still lingers such as wild dogs and cats, will eat them and spread sickness.

He passes Simon who only tilts his head in question at what he's got over his shoulder. The woman may have spotted him because she goes still and quiet immediately. Up by the truck, and really it's five of them, stands John.

He's with a medic, looking over the detainees as they are loaded one by one in the back cabin. The ones that don't make the last check before they set off are pulled to the side.

A single scream is heard before a shot silences it.

John raises both brows, noticing Kyle and his guest. He doesn't tell him no right away, stays silent so he can make his case on why she isn't walking and being given princess treatment. The closer he gets though, the more realization dawns in his blue eyes. “Whatcha got there Sargent?”

It's rhetorical and they both chuckle at that.

“Found her in the chaos sir. Smells like flowers.” Is all Kyle says.

The medic ping pongs between the two of them. “Do I check her too?” They are nervous, their voice shakes too much.

“Yeah, check her.” John reaches out to grab her by the chin but yanks back before she can clamp her teeth on his fingers. “Yeah…reminds me of flowers too.”

The medic wastes no more time before taking her temp, examining her eyes, with a bit of force they check her teeth and do a skin check for open sores that have trouble healing. She only has the gunshot wound to the leg, and is declared fine enough for transport. A needle gets pulled from the medical bag and that's when she struggles again.

“Sshh,” Kyle calms her and holds her tight. Her breathing picks up and she becomes frantic. “It's just enough to keep you calm on the ride back, don't want you hurting yourself.”

“No! No! No! AVARICE HELP!” She wails and tries to throw herself from his grip.

Plenty of people are watching now, everyone knows that name. John furrows his brow and speaks low into his comm mic. The medic struggles but the needle goes right into the side of her neck right below her mating gland. Kyle's surprised to see that it's unmarked, smooth with no teeth dents.

It makes his mouth water at the thought and implications.

“She can ride upfront with us.” John states. His comms crackle with static.

“I got him sir.” Simon can be heard and under it faintly the sound of Riley barking.

Kyle doesn't stay to hear the rest of what's said and moves to get situated. It's a two hour drive back to Paradise. The sooner they get going the better.

○●

“What happens in those big cities mom?” You ask. The work day is over and just about all of your wares and trinkets are gone. “Avarice tells me they are all different depending on who runs them.”

Your mom sucks her teeth, “They're all the same Sweetie. Harsh. Crowded. Not a lot of room to live. Everyone is in fight or flight mode. People who can tough it out, thrive there.” She looks towards the city that is walled up and shakes her head. She continues, “Folks who can make babies don't ever do well there. You can make babies and if you ever find yourself in a place like that, do everything you can to take your life or resign to submission.”

You've never been in an actual vehicle before. Your limbs feel heavy, mind clouded with fog. The last words of your mother's advice about those cities linger. Despite everything, you're too scared of death and don't want to die young. The world around you blurs, it's just shapes and distant noises. You imagine hearing the unmistakable sound of Avarice’s voice, you're not too sure. Whatever was in that needle finally pulls you under into darkness.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

hi just wanted to check if my understanding of the warning for Chemical burns. Would your describe it as a dark fic? With like the 141 pack causing harm or such to reader?

just wanted to ask to check if it is a story for me.

Hope you have a good day

Chemical Burn is a dark fic. It contains everything that is listed in the content warning. John, Simon, Kyle and Johnny will cause harm to the reader. It's fine of it's not your cup of tea, I'll see you in a different story update, darling.

For anyone else wandering, the content warning for Chemical Burn are

Death

Violence

Rape

Hallucinations

Dubious consent

Separate chapters will also have an additional content warning if I feel that it needs to be there at the start.

Please be responsible and as a wise friend told me, it's okay to not finish a story and to put it down.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Oops 🤭

To be fair, the stuff you probably see is well written.

I get so much COD smut on my dash for someone who has no idea who any of these people are

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Ew I don't like that annoying ppl are in your asks hiding behind anonymity to make themselves feel better. Reading both of their messages (that I've seen) annoyed tf out of me and you already know you didn't owe them that much of a response.

Thank you for all of the characters you've created. Your writing is inspiring. May the next person who reads a response of yours that causes them look inward... keep it there lol. You know, maybe work on themselves a little bit and talk to people with different experiences and learn to love and appreciate others more and become inspired to write deeper and more interesting works.

I hope you have a great rest of your weekend ❤️

Couldn't have said it better myself tbh. I hope you enjoy your week darling. ♡