#tw humans being killed and eaten

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret's Worth

Chapter 33: Walter

Ao3

Fair warning this chapter has some triggering content in it. Strickler's plans for the eternal night come up and they are pretty....yikes.

So this is your warning, proceed with caution, here be dragons. More specific, spoiler filled warnings in the tags.

Strickler quickly turned and hustled down the side hall of the museum, going as fast as he dared without running, which would only gather unwanted attention, and jostle the delicate contents of the tote bag dangling from his arm. He’d only have a brief window of time to step away from the field trip without being missed and he needed to make the most of it. Keeping his package concealed the entire morning had been challenging in and of itself, now he needed to get it secure before–

“Mr. Strickler?” a familiar but hesitant voice called out from behind him.

He froze midstep, slowly turning his head while discreetly concealing the bag in front of his body, catching sight of Jim Lake at the end of the hall peering at him from around the corner “Yes?”

 “You…have a second?”

He didn’t, he really didn’t.

Strickler planted both feet on the ground and turned around fully, moving the bag behind his back to keep it out of sight “Of course, what do you need?”

Jim stepped into the hall and approached, only speaking again when the two of them were less than ten feet apart “I…just wanted to say thanks, I’ve been talking to one of the therapists on the list you gave me, they've been a big– a huge help,”

“Well I’m happy to hear that,”

Jim smiled up at him, but then his expression slipped into something inquisitive as he peeked around the side of  him “Oh…you having lunch?”

Strickler bit back a sigh, how unfortunate, he’d been so successful all morning only to fail due to Jim’s unfortunately sharp skills of observation. Now that the boy had seen this much there was no point in concealing it any further “Actually this is something else, here, let me show you…”

He set the bag down on a side table, Jim stepping up to his side as he reached in and pulled out–

“Cookies?”

Strickler flashed him a sheepish grin while setting the plastic container down in the table “Chocolate chip to be precise, I always keep a box on hand for when I find myself a bit peckish in the afternoon. Although I would appreciate if you kept your knowledge of my little stash to yourself, Señor Uhl has a vicious sweet tooth,”

He allowed his smile to turn conspiratorial, popping the tabs of the box open “And I would be more than willing to buy your silence,”

Jim’s face lit up “Sure thanks!”

Still smiling, Strickler gestured towards the open container, Jim reaching in to snag a cookie, immediately taking a large bite out of it.

“So uh,” his words were muffled by cookie crumbs, he flushed scrlet then swallowed “I think I’ll be in your class next year, right?”

Stricker felt a trickle of genuine affection slowly run through him, softening out the sharp edges of irritation at being delayed “Yes I teach the next level of world history as well, and I look forward to seeing James Lake Junior again in the fa–”

“Just Jim, actually,” the boy’s face abruptly went from sunny to stony “I’m dropping the junior and going by Jim Lake now,”

Strickler’s mouth had been open to send Jim back to the rest of his schoolmates but now he hesitated.

He’d known for a while that Jim’s home situation was…turbulent, but this wasn’t the first indicator today that an extremely troubling event had occurred. That had been when Jim’s entire friend group had been dropped off at the school this morning in Mr. Nuñez’s vehicle. The second had been how somber and subdued the five of them had been despite it being the last day of school, only just now brightening when Strickler had given him a cookie of all things. Perhaps a check in was in order– 

No, he shouldn’t. 

He was running late enough as it was, and besides, Jim had a professional to discuss his woes with. And while Walter Strickler was many things, a licensed therapist he was not, though granted he would have been if he hadn’t been busy keeping the states and the soviet union from destroying the planet for five decades. But the fact of the matter was there were certain subjects directly relating to his family and home life that Jim was no doubt better off discussing with a trained professional as opposed to a well meaning educator. 

Still… 

While a trained therapist he was not, Strickler was capable of serving as a sounding board and occasional dispenser of advice; and he was more than confident in his ability to draw the line. And while he was running late he certainly wouldn’t mind prolonging this particular chore.

He turned toward Jim fully, schooling his features to show the appropriate levels of concern “Is everything alright with you and your mother?”

Jim’s sullen look hardened into a frown, hand holding the cookie falling to his side and head dropping “No. He– my dad,” the word was spat on a wave of venom “Showed up at our house, we all got into a fight, and he found out how hard things had been for me and mom, how much we struggled after he left, and he…..he laughed,”

The boy snapped his head back up, a startling echo of something almost trollish in the look of fury on his face “He found out how much we'd been hurting for years and he thought it was funny,”

Strickler, who prided himself on his ability to remain composed even in the most dire of situations, had to take a moment to recover from his shock. He’d known somewhat of the strife surrounding the Lake family situation, but for the boy’s father to go so far as to break in–

“Are you and your mother alright, he didn’t try to hurt either of you did he?”

“Oh no,” just as quickly as it had come the fire in Jim’s expression vanished “He didn’t try to hurt us, just acted all smug,” a vindictive smile curled on his face “Until mom kicked his ass out,”

In the interest of deniability Strickler opted not to ask whether he was being metaphorical or literal.

“So yeah,” Jim shrugged, the action too exaggerated to be completely natural “We may share DNA, but he is not my dad,”

This was running deeper than Strickler expected, better reign things in “I’m happy that you’re safe, and that you trust me enough to share this, have you discussed these events with your therapist yet?”

Jim instantly flushed and looked down, shifting from foot to foot “Oh yeah, I called him this morning, gonna go see him after school. Kurt’s been really great; letting me vent, helping me get out of my own head, reminding me that all my friends probably don’t secretly hate me,”

The laughter that followed those words was painfully forced.

Strickler let a genuine frown creep into his deliberate mask of concern, Jim clearly meant it as a joke, but hearing Jim say something so concerning so casually was…troubling. And he couldn't take a therapist’s place in helping Jim unlearn such a mindset, but maybe….

“Jim, you don’t have to understand others’ decision to spend time with you, but you should respect their choice to do so as smart thinking people,”

He took half a step closer “And I know your friends, I’ve graded their exams, and while a few of them could certainly stand to apply themselves to their essay questions a bit more, I can safely say that they are all intelligent, highly capable individuals. And if you trust them in other regards you should trust them with their choice in friends,”

Jim blinked up at him, abject shock wiping his expression clean “I’ve…never thought of it like that…”

Strickler smiled down at him, and feeling surprisingly bold, spoke up again “And while I can’t speak for anyone else, personally I consider you brilliant young man, and many would be lucky to call you a friend,”

For an instant Strickler thought he’d gone too far, but then he quickly realized it wasn’t discomfort holding the boy’s tongue.

“You…really think so?” he said softy, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t,”

“Oh, uh, th- thanks,” Jim smiled weakly at him “That…means a lot,”

“I’m always happy to help, now you should be getting back to the group before Ms. Janeth notices your absence, and perhaps finish that cookie before you do,”

“Got it, on my way,” Jim turned and began walking back down the hall, turning and waving as he went “Thanks Mr. Strickler,”

“Of course,” Strickler called after him “My door is always open,”

Jim vanished from sight around the corner, footsteps slowly fading into silence. Strickler lingered in his spot next to the side table for a few moments, affable smile slowly falling off his face. Once he was certain Jim would not return he tucked the plastic pack of cookies back in the bag and continued down the hall, stepping through the small door at the end. 

He was immediately greeted by smoldering red eyes and hot, rancid breath.

“You should have let the child stay,” Bular loomed from the shadows, this small storage room one of the few places free from sunlight during the day “I could use a snack,”

If Bular hadn’t been glaring at him Strickler would have rolled his eyes. He could make a jab about how a student going missing in the middle of a museum in broad daylight during a field trip would attract a dangerous level of scrutiny, but logic had a habit of going in one ear and out the other when it came to Bular.

Thinly veiled insults lent themselves much better to memory.

“You really shouldn’t think with your stomach, it’s never lead you to good things,”

The narrowing of red eyes told Strickler his barb had hit home. Provoking Bular like this was dangerous, but the brute had been a thorn in his side for centuries, let him seethe for a bit.

“You should be more focused on freeing my father and not on the fawning attention of fleshbag whelps,” Bular growled, turning and stalking further into the room “Was it really necessary to entertain the human for that long?”

It hadn’t been, but pushing Bular’s buttons was one of the few sources of guilty pleasure in Strickler’s life. Not to mention he’d much rather converse with Jim Lake than tear his hair out trying to explain basic strategy to Bular any day.

Granted, the same could be said about trying to convince Mr Pepperjack that the pyramids weren’t built by martian shapeshifters, or getting a root canal.

Instead of voicing these traitorous thoughts he hoisted the tote bag over his shoulder and followed Bular deeper into the room “It’s all part of maintaining my cover as a respectable educator,”

From out of nowhere Bular whirled on him, teeth bared and hands twitching for his jawblades. Strickler froze midstep, cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck. 

Had to be cautious now, violence was dangerously close. If it came to it it wouldn’t be the first time Bular threw him into a wall, nor likely the last, but Strickler preferred to keep those instances as few and far between as possible

“Explain to me then, impure,” the slur fell heavy from the large troll’s lips “How the fleshbags opinions of you are so crucial in freeing my father?”

Strickler let out a heavy sigh, exaggerated to the point even Bular could pick up on it “If you insist,”

It was aggravating to have to justify his every action to Bular, but this would give the perfect opportunity to push the brute’s perspective in the right direction.

He set the tote bag aside on top of one of the many crates around them, folding his arms behind his back before turning and facing Bular directly “It is important to be perceived as kind and approachable, this causes the humans to trust me,”

Strickler gestured to the bag “You saw how easily he accepted food from me, one of the many benefits of building a reputation as a trusted mentor, which means that on the day of your father’s return my students won’t suspect that the day’s treat has been dosed with a little of this,” Strickler pulled a small amber bottle out of the inner pocket of his blazer, something far too precious to carry in a tote bag “Sending them all into a deep sleep, allowing me to transport them to the museum with ease and discretion,”

Tucking the bottle back into his pocket, he straightened his lapels before looking back up at Bular, lips curled into an artful smirk “Then when your father arrives he’ll have a meal ready and waiting to eat, a little something to kindle his and his troops’ appetites before the true feast begins,”

Bular snarled but his shoulders lowered, arms relaxing, showing that the immediate threat had passed “Your attempts to curry my father’s favor are as pathetic as they are obvious, impure,”

Strickler turned to pick up the bag, rolling his eyes when he was confident Bular couldn’t see before resuming their trek into the room. Hardly surprising the brute only saw the most surface level implications of his plan, of course it was for the better that Bular didn’t guess his true intentions.

If gifting him his students won him some of the Skullcrusher’s favor all the better, but what mattered was that while his students’ deaths would be brutal and messy, due to their drugged sleep they would also be swift and painless.

A twinge of something dark and heavy flickered in Strickler’s chest before he smothered it.

The culling of his students wasn’t anything Strickler was looking forward to–

A bright smile spread across Jim’s face as he bit into the cookie, the first genuine one in months. 

But it needed to be done.

Gunmar would reclaim the surface and water the land with human blood, regardless of anything Strickler did or didn’t do. One way or another his students were all living on borrowed time, and if Strickler couldn’t spare their lives he would ensure he spared their suffering.

Bular came to a halt with Strickler doing the same, the two having reached their destination.

Millennia ago Strickler had once considered leveraging his position to keep some humans alive and under his protection during the eternal night, but after so many centuries whatever sweetness attached to that idea had long since turned sour. 

Gunmar would no doubt respond to such a request by eating the lot of them on the spot. And even if he was successful at protecting some humans, what kind of existence would the eternal night be for them? Living as little better than pets, favored livestock spared slaughter but condemned to watch their would burn, the threat of the knife never too far away should they step out of line. Existing as the lowest of the low under the heels of their Gumm Gumm masters.

The same existence Strickler had suffered through for as long as he could remember.

The heaviness in his gut returned with vengeance, Strickler having to exert some force to disperse it.

No, any attempt at preserving human life would ultimately only be serving Strickler’s own ego. As painful as it would be for him, Strickler would ensure his students’ last memories were of sweetness and peaceful slumber.

Bular sniffed at the boxes piled against the back wall, boxes containing a very special traveling exhibit, pawing through the crates and scrutinizing their contents “You should spend less time on your schemes and more working towards my father’s return,” he groused, not even raising his head from his foraging.

Strickler leveled the troll with a cool gaze “The speed at which the bridge is assembled is irrelevant,”

Bular whirled away from the crates, smoldering glare landing on Strickler “How d–”

“The bridge may as well be rubble without the amulet to open it,”

Bular smoldered in silence, eyes positively burning into Strickler, knowing that the changeling had a valid point but his pride refusing to allow him to admit it.

“Rather than micromanaging me,” he folded his arms behind his back, a perfect picture of professional composure “You should be focusing on your battle with the Trollhunter,”

A coarse growl rumbled out of Bular “The Trollhunter will fall by my hand, I will claim the amulet and release my father, and the humans will burn as we retake the surface for trollkind!”

Strickler nonchalantly polished his fingernails on his shirt “Oh I’m sure you will,”

[prince-of-calydon]

do you think actaeon's dogs ran through the woods after killing the stag, looking for their master so they could lead him to the kill

all in the hopes that once the deer had been skinned, they could be given some meat, follow their master home, and curl up on the floor while the venison roasted over the flames

[the-aisei-cousins]

Event: Camping Trip

(Tw: mention and talks of Pedophilia, R@pe, child abuse, and cannibalism.(also sorry that I forgot to add this. I thought I did when I wrote this.))

You had received an email from Hope's Peak Academy

'You were invited to help Ms. Dai to take Class 82 onto a 2 week long camping trip starting tomorrow! Class 82 will be thankful for your participation.

We are not responsible for any minor damage, major injuries, any human beings being eaten, and/or deaths that Class 82 may cause.'

You decided to join. Probably your better judgment but to join, you chose none the less. The next day, you went to Hope's Peak Academy to see a group of 7 teens and one little robot girl. All had on a white shirt with brown shorts on.

One was a dark skinned girl with two IDs. One was a Substitute Teacher ID and the other a Student ID for the same school. She was in front and facing the rest of the students.

There was a boy with black hair and brown eyes. He had a bunch of scars on his body, some old, some new, some healed, some still fresh.

The robot girl was to his left. She seems to be design to look around 8 years old, but she seems to be an old model. The body was rusty in some areas and wore down by time.

To her left was a boy with an red jacket on. He had the hood over his head and sunglasses covering his face. His hands were in his pocket.

To his left was a young lady with long light reddish pink hair, dilated pupils, and a slightly jagged tooth. She was the tallest in her class.

To her left was Irofuka Nijiue. It was weird to see him not in a butler uniform. He was stilling wearing his red gloves and his hair was pulled into a short, low ponytail.

To his left was Yolei, wearing a light turtleneck sweater underneath the shirt. The also had leggings and a bag on. She was leaning towards Irofuka.

And finally, Yoshino, who had her hair in a ponytail and was wearing stockings under her shorts. She also had a small backpack on.

Yù: "Okay, let's go over the rules, one more time. No killing people, selling illegal substances or items, and no eating people. Alive or Dead. We will still be doing theapry sessions while camping. Don't wonder to far, especially at night. We have to introduce ourselves to our guests, even if we already met them. That means, telling them your actual names and Ultimate Talents, alright?"

"Yes Ma'am."

Yù: "Thank you Yoshino."

Do you say anything?

Tags:

@y0u-f4il3d-m3 @mikado-sannoji @low-activity-side-characters @yui-samidare-reborn @human-monokuma @kamon-of-hope @edens-garden-au @master-detective-archives @beautiful-despair @after-neo-world @scarred-smiles @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @sinistersmiles @xxcottoncandybitchxx @anyone else

[yanderenightmare]

who's the worst bnha yandere? in your opinion

Shigaraki Tomura x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, f!reader, Shiggy being gross

fem reader

It’s easily Tomura.

Tomura because he doesn’t care about the most basic of human needs. 

Forgets to feed you. And when he does – it’s always some half-eaten burger, sub or burrito. He doesn’t give two shit if you’re vegan or vegetarian. Shit – he doesn’t even care if you’re allergic. If you don’t want it, you can starve.

Doesn’t give you clothes. He rarely bothers getting himself new clothes, do you think he’s gonna do you any better? No. Wear his dandruff-riddled, old-sweat-seeped hoodie – or wear nothing.

Something else you miss is proper housing – even if it’s just a room with a bed and a toilet. You’ve learned that even that is too much to ask for.

You never stay in the same place for long – needing to switch bases regularly in order to remain low. Never anything he’ll have to pay for, of course – a pick of the litter abandoned office buildings, hotels, and empty homes. 

If you’re lucky enough to find a place with running water, you stay longer. If not, you’ll have to make do for a couple of days – worst case was a little over a week. You still shudder thinking about it. 

He’ll keep you in any room he can lock from the outside – only sometimes blessing you with an actual mattress and not some old moldy sofa or a thin blanket on cold floors.

One time, you stayed in some old mansion one of the league members had found. You suspect they killed whoever lived there before – seeing as the entire house was properly furnished and clean when you all infested the place. 

Not that you got to explore much – Tomura kept you locked in the master bedroom on the third floor – the one where you most definitely would have broken both legs if you tried escaping through the window.

It had been one of the nicer places. One with working hot water and clothes for you to change into – albeit shamefully, sending prayer and thanks to the owner who was no doubt dead and rotting. You were even able to find a stockpile of fresh towels and linens you changed after a week had gone by.

But as the weeks turned to more weeks, they’d all run out – and you began hoping you’d move on to the next place soon. Even with the risk of it being someplace cold and dusty, it would still be a fresher slate.

The nice mansion had gone bad after a month or so – you’d lost track of time. 

Thankfully, you’d been able to air out the dank smell of armpit, ass, and feet – and were allowed to take a shower whenever you weren’t handcuffed to the bed – often able to lure Tomura to join you if only for the sake of washing the stench of decay, dandruff and dickcheese off him. 

But even so, Tomura isn't the most hygienic type. Managing keeping him halfway decent was troubling enough. 

It’s way tougher to keep the room tidy with Tomura’s ill habits of keeping half-eaten food lying around – empty cup noodles and other street junk, beer bottles, and sour energy drinks – along with bloody piles of worn-out clothes, dirty holey underwear, and soggy condoms.

You were driven to the point of disgust that you’d asked him whether he could do you the simple favor of finding and bringing you the house cleaning supplies so you could wash the place yourself.

Oh… how funny he’d found that little comment... 

“Too filthy in ‘ere for yah, is it? Too gross for the pretty princess?”

It hadn’t been the first time he’d made you lick the floor. Face down, ass up – with his bare foot placed heavy and clammy against your teary cheek – two of his fingers stuffing your cunt, and the other two inside your ass – while he sits at the edge of the bed, spitefully stroking his hard dick to the degrading view.

“Tch – such a filthy bitch, and you complain about the scenery?” He sneers – pumping both your holes. “Didn’t know I was fuckin’ such a spoiled cunt.”

You cry at the crass stretch his digits make – but you know better than to fight him when he’s pissed. You only regret forgetting how it’s never been a good idea for you to do much of anything other than nod your head and smile pliantly – open your mouth wide for his tongue, spit, cock, and cum or otherwise keep it shut.

Per request, you keep it open wide, tongue out on the hardwood floor – tasting the grouts of lint and dirt and God knows what – stale and salty on your tastebuds. Or maybe it was the tears gushing from your eyes – soaking your face where you sobbed.

“Tch – shut up.” A hand replaces the foot on your face – dragging you up with a fist in your hair. Pulling his fingers from your holes with a sloppy shlick – before promptly pushing all four digits inside your mouth. “If you wanna clean somethin’ – you can start with this slutty mess.”

You gag at the threat as he shoves all but his thumb down your throat – wiping off your slick, then giving your face a mean slap with the same, now spit-coated, hand – before pulling you up from the floor by your hair and ushering you onto his lap to straddle him.

He wipes the rest of your drool off on his erect cock – standing proudly with a thick flow of creamy pre leaking from his slit.

He doesn’t waste much time before lining up with your puffy pussy-lipped hole and making you sink down on him.

You croak at him going in raw – always feeling extra violated without the thin rubber protecting you from catching his germs as he pushes all his veiny girth inside you until giving your womb a cummy kiss. 

“What’s the problem, slut? Don’t like riding dirty dick?” He huffs, starting to rut against you in no clean tempo. He snickers at your grimace, still holding your hair in a tight pull as he angles your face to his to kiss your tight-lined lips – feeling you cringe even more. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you clean it after I fill this and the other hole up with filth.”

You whimper at the dark promise – and he wipes his tongue across your sorry expression from chin to temple.

“I’ll do you up nice and nasty – so you won’t feel so out of place anymore~”

[minotaurs-my-beloved]

Wendigos

In reference to this (@0mystic I did ittt)

TW: References to cannibalism, noncon

Body shaking, teeth chattering, your arms are wrapped around yourself trying your best to warm up. It's getting hard to keep your eyes open, face stinging with cold, feet completely numb.

You need to keep going.

You're starving, a deep gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach. And as terrible as it sounds, at this point, every time you look over at your friend thoughts of eating them pop into your mind, if only for a moment. Just a little bite wouldn't be too bad, right?

You both had gotten lost, it was meant to be a fun trip in the mountains, but a massive unexpected snow storm quickly turned a fun outing into a harsh fight for survival. Everything in your way was trying it's best to kill you.

Nature isn't kind, and you're learning that first hand.

Human bodies are not meant for this, the temperatures are far below freezing and the big coat does nothing to save you from the biting winds. There isn't a chance in the world you won't be at least hypothermic by the time you get back.

If you even get back.

That's when you see it.

Its tall hulking figure standing amidst the trees, jagged antlers jutting out from its wolf skull the long canines coming out just past the end of the jaw, its ribcage protruding grotesquely from its gaunt body, tail of bones sliding behind it, furry goat legs transitioning into hooves.

You stop and stare, fear searing through your veins, blood beginning to pump again as your fight or flight triggers. You look to your side, wanting to ask your friend if they see it too, hoping you're just hallucinating, but they're gone. You blink hard, breathing faster you turn your head back to the creature.

It's looking at you.

It's looking at you with its uncanny, empty eye sockets, tilting its skull as though taunting you, its short fur blowing forward in the wind. You know what it is. You had heard the stories of what happens to those who fall into extreme greed, not just greed but a cannibalistic hunger.

It is a monster. Both inside and out it is a monster. But who are you to judge?

You understand.

Used to, committing such depravity would have been an unfathomable thought. But now, it makes sense. Yet, as much as you understand, you do not want to become its next meal. It's not as though your body would be helping it anyways, cursed with an insatiable, painful, hunger. You can see it in its features, bones nearly apparent under its thin skin.

You want to run, but your body is weak, the extreme environment you've been in taking its toll just when you need your energy the most. You can do nothing but watch as it starts staggering its way towards you, never once breaking eye contact. You can see the gluttony in its piercing nonexistent eyes, as that is now all this creature has become. It comes to a halt before you, slowly lowering its head and tilting it again. You breath becomes rapid, the only movement you can make being the erratic pumping of your chest and the continued shakes from the snow.

It inspects you while your mind races, wondering why it hasn't eaten you yet. Instead, in one quick movement it grabs your leg and starts dragging you, kicking does nothing to stop it, claws digging into your calf from your squirming. You pass out at some point, your body completely giving up on trying to keep you aware even with the danger you face.

Waking up in a dark cave, finally getting a reprieve from the biting wind, you see it standing above you, still staring. Ripping open the crotch of your pants, it cares nothing about your comfort nor protest, greedy, greedy, claws needing to feel you. Leaving marks all over your body, ruining it with its dagger-like nails, long tongue spilling out of its mouth to lick up and down your tits. Ramming its cock inside you with no prep because this isn't about you.

This is all for it.

It is desperate to fill the void that has eternally made itself home inside the creature.

Yet no matter what, nothing will work. It knows this, but refuses to accept it, slamming harder and deeper into you. Your body is stiff, weakly trying to push it off, as it picks up the pace with each thrust. Unable to stop yourself from feeling the never ending hunger it does, lust overcoming your mind as it ravages your body.

The hunger is overtaking your body, if only you could take a bite of the creature. But it doesn't have enough skin on its bones, and soon, you won't either.

You two are one in the same.

You too will succumb to the same fate.

This monster is a glimpse into your future.

[r0tting-rat]

I'm so sorry for what y'all are about to read but I can't get this out of my mind. Again I'm so sorry.

Premise: I did not finish Pressure and this is probably full of inaccuracies but WHO CARESSS

Tw: cannibalism, gore

Just think about it. Back when Sebastian had just released all the monsters in the facility, there must have been so many bodies around. Scientists, soldiers, whatever. There must have been so much blood. Anglers, Wall Dwellers, you name it! If Sebastian hadn't been a killer before being sentenced to death and experimented on, he surely became one that day. I can basically see him.

He's not just angry, he's fucking livid. He does not care about sticking to what is left of his morals, he has long abandoned them. The fact that he is killing humans doesn't affect him anymore, after all, he's a monster now. They made him a monster, so it's all their fault. What goes around comes back around, right?

There's only one problem, after everything in the shut-down facility settles and everything that is left is the gentle sounds of the water dripping down broken pipes, and the problem is that Sebastian hasn't eaten anything in days. He's getting weak, he's getting hungry, he's getting desperate, and he's running out of time. Walking down a long hallway, Sebastian slithers through bodies and scattered limbs, ignoring the painfully empty stomach and trying not to focus too much on the arms, legs and torsos surrounding him. Yes, he did all of that, but it doesn't mean he loves the view. The smell is even more atrocious than the visuals.

His stomach complains loudly, growling and lamenting with need. Sebastian hisses with discomfort, clutching his midsection. "Hold on for just a moment," he tells himself, "Just wait!" But he doesn't know when his next meal is going to be, and before he even notices it his three eyes land on one of the most recent corpses. His DNA has changed and with it his needs and instincts, so—for just a moment—he considers it. Sebastian, no longer the man he used to be, looks at the corpse of one of the soldiers sent by Urbanshade to kill him, and his stomach growls.

He knows he needs it, he will die if he doesn't eat anything soon, and it's not like anyone will notice! No, it will just be another disappeared man, a nameless face to Sebastian and a faceless name to Urbanshade, the guy is basically a nobody! No one will miss him. That's what he tells himself as he kneels down, next to the body, and with one of his three hands he pulls it closer.

"You're not human," he thinks as he peels away what is left of the man's body from his mangled chest. His arms are laying a little farther to the left. "This isn't cannibalism, you're not human." Yet, as the ache for food becomes louder, something in his chest starts to grow heavy. With calculated movements, Sebastian forces one of his clawed hands in the guts of the man—no, food—easily tearing the skin open so he can gain access to his internal organs. The sight is quite disgusting, and normally would be enough to quiet his appetite, but he can't afford to be picky. He reaches blindly inside the eviscerated man and pulls out a mass of something. His hand is dripping with blood, his claws are piercing just slightly into the deformed mass in his hold. It's soft. Analyzing what he is holding would only make everything worse, so, before he can stop himself, Sebastian shoves the entire thing in his mouth, and begins to chew.

The mass is wet, slimy, he has to force it down his throat when he swallows. Just the act leaves him breathless, like it had somehow drained him of all his energies. "This isn't cannibalism, so stop whining!" his brain screams at him, like it would somehow get rid of the feeling in his chest, which has now grown heavier than before. As he reaches for a second handful with a shaky hand, Sebastian begins to cry.

"You're not human anymore!" Another bite, more blood trails down his chin and into the collar of his shirt. The metallic scent strokes his hunger like a flame, invading his nostrils and filling his lungs.

"You're not human anymore!" With the third bite his teeth snap over something hard, probably a bone shard, and they shatter it like it was a bread crust, like they were made for it.

"YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!"

Sebastian shoves his face inside the corpse, devouring anything his teeth can reach, reduced to just a starving and sobbing beast. He eats and cries, unable to stop doing either of those things, and his tears mix well with the crimson tainting the lower half of his face. He uses his claws to get bigger bites, pulling anything at arms reach towards his gaping maw, and he is unable to put an end to the massacre. He pulls open the ribcage and reaches for what's inside. Muscles tear under the strength of his jaw, the taste of sweet and fresh meat makes him go delirious, fat slithers down his throat like it's liquid.

What is left of the man once he's done might as well be the carcass of a very large dog, or a pig. The remains—which are few—are unrecognizable, just a weirdly shaped thing covered in blood and with some scattered bones. If anyone were to find it they would guess it must have been a group of Wall Dwellers, and not the sassy merchant at the 50th floor, no, they would never blame him. Just picture it; Sebastian hunched over a corpse, heavily breathing and feeding off one of the new expendables. Ridiculous, right? Yeah, sure, his teeth are sharp like a great white's, but he would never do something like that! No, after all, he is your only friend in that hellish hole, right? You can trust him, and only him. No one else.

Don't ask what happens to the bodies of the expendables once they die, that's none of your business. It's not like you'll ever see them again. They are nobodies. You are a nobody. You're not expected to return.

[the-dawn-star]

Hi, can you please write an oneshot where the human reader tried to break up with yandere Elijah Mikaelson after discovering he is a vampire that feeds on and kills people, and it violates her moral code? What happened next is entirely up to you, thanks a lot :)

A/N: Hey! Firstly, I'm not sure how happy I am with this but I hope you like it. I kind of changed the idea because writing is hard (XD) but I hope you don't mind.

-S

+500ish words.

TW/CW: Some random person being dead, talk of blood, murder and the normal vampire stuff. Yandere stuff like obsessiveness and delusion.

This wasn’t supposed to go this way. Everything has been going so great in your relationship. And now everything has been ruined... 

It was after a marvelous evening with Elijah. You had eaten well and drank a bit of fantastic wine. You had walked home hand in hand. You had thought that everyone would be sleeping at that time but instead you found Kol and Klaus in the living room talking about something you didn’t pay attention to. And on the floor was a clearly dead body with blood covering his neck.  

After that you weren’t sure what had happened. Kol and Klaus were clearly too drunk to explain themselves, so the explanation became Elijah’s responsibility. Words about vampires, of them being immortal, of death and blood.  

You wanted to throw up. Elijah had been so kind and gentle, so kind in fact that you had fallen in love with him. But this changed it. When you looked at your perfect boyfriend now you just saw all the people he had killed, the innocent people, the blood on his hands.  

You had wanted to leave. After Elijah explained what you had seen you were ready to run away from the house and never look back. But you still cared for the man in front of you and to your surprise Elijah didn’t let you leave. Saying it was for your safety, to make sure you wouldn’t do anything stupid. So that’s why you were laying on your bed that you normally shared with Elijah. But for now, you were alone and terrified of your boyfriend.  

~~~ 

You didn’t assume that you would wake up anymore. If he had killed other people, what would make it that Elijah wouldn’t be killing you too. But you did wake up..., Elijah’s hand gently on your cheek. You wanted to run away, to fight back his kindness.  

“How did you sleep?”  

“I’m fine...,” Your words were barely a whisper and very much a lie. You felt horrible. 

“I didn’t mean to tell you this way..., I was scared of you knowing..., knowing who I really am. You must understand that.”  

You did. You knew very well the feeling of being scared of showing the real you to the people around you. But in your case, you weren’t scared to show people that you were an ancient vampire who needs blood to survive.  

“And I’m sure you will understand it even better once you are turned.”  

Your eyes widened with Elijah’s words, and you ripped yourself off of his touch.  

Did you understand something wrong? What was he talking about?  

“I know it is scary, but I promise I will be there with you at every step of the process. And maybe one day you see that I’m doing this for you..., for us.”  

Elijah’s smile was gentle just like the tone he spoke the words that you did not understand. Where had you gotten this so wrong?  

“What are you saying?” You asked.  

“I have loved you ever since I laid my eyes to you. You are meant to be mine..., but we cannot be together fully as long as you are a human...”  

You didn’t know how to respond.  

“I’m doing this for you..., for us.” 

[sadakorosee]

Comfort

Omg this is my first request! Poly relationship with the turtles request by @trtlegirl00

TW: a bit of sexual harassment, misogyny

Poly!turtles x fm!reader (Requested)

Work was hell - then again, it's always been hell.

This entire week, your boss has been on your back demanding 10 different tasks from you and scolds you infront of everybody when you haven't finished it. You tried explaining you were doing 4 tasks at once, staying overtime, and barely eaten anything and guess what he said to you?

"Not my problem." He said, with a SHRUG on his shoulders.

You were not tolerating his mistreatment anymore and did the unthinkable; you stepped hard on his foot and he yelped in pain, gasps around the office. Due to the mistreatment you and your colleagues went through, they all clapped.

"I'll see you in fucking court. And don't think I didn't miss you pinching my ass at last week's party. Perv." Then you left.

Despite all that, it just drains the life out of you realizing you're jobless. Fired, for sure. Getting sued? Absolutely.

You dragged yourself to the lair mindlessly. All you want were hugs right now.

"Hey, angel cakes is back!" Mikey saw you from the kitchen and ran to you, only to find you emotionless. Your hair was in a loose bun, your formal clothes unbuttoned and shoes removed, you holding it.

"Angel? What's wrong?" Mikey grew concerned.

That made you break. "I hate everything!" You bawled out of nowhere dropping everything in the process and hugged Mikey sobbing in his shoulder.

"Uhh guys!" Mikey called, catching 3 other turtles' attention.

"What happened?!" Leo asked in panic, holding you and inspecting you for wounds. He saw how messy you looked thinking you got harassed.

"Who hurt you, baby?" Raph held your crying face. "I'll kill 'em. How dare they hurt you like this?!"

"Calm down, you hothead," Donnie pushed the bigger turtle away and inspected you. Once he confirms you weren't physically hurt, he took off his goggles and stroked your hair. "She wasn't physically hurt. But there's something else here. What happened, love? Deep breaths."

You told them everything, which in between the guys slowly getting angry for you until the last part you mentioned your boss touched you in a dinner party:

Leo stopped blinking.

Raph broke a baseball bat he was holding-- which you didn't notice he was holding it. That was weird.

Donnie dropped his gadget.

Mikey gasped. Typical.

"I'm gonna kill him."

Now, people would expect this reaction from Raph, right?

Nope.

"Donnie wait calm down!" Mikey held onto Donnie's leg but the tallest turtle walked to the exit with ease.

"Put down that knife! Sensei used that to cut the fishes!" Leo exclaimed. Please, Leo. That isn't important right now.

"I'm goin' with ya, Don." That was Raph. Of course he's gonna join Donnie kill anybody who touched their s/o.

It took about 20 minutes to calm down your tallest boyfriend and he was still eager to murder your boss but he saw how exhausted you are, so he stopped and hoist you up in his arms, bringing you to the living room.

Your four boyfriends huddled up with you in the middle; two of them holding both of your hands, 1 was massaging your toes and 1 massaging your shoulders.

You'd rather be stuck down in the lair than being in the human world.

Money? You'll think of something.

Right now, you just want to be with your boyfriends.

I hope this was okay C: i'm sorry it took me almost a week to do your request; i'm actually a working lady xD i work 8-5 everyday and i'm tired all the time. i may have added a bit of my story inside. regarding this, stay safe at work or in public. report when you must and don't let any man tell you what's what.

[visibleclosedeyes]

Prayer

Minthara x female human Tav

TW: slight mind manipulation

The first time she looked at the woman she wasn’t particularly impressed. She was just a female human, after all, their kind is everywhere. By the Absolute, Minthara even remembered seeing some of them back in Menzoberranzan at some point. They are everywhere, vermin—but sufficient vermin which might be somewhat of a blessing among the horde of globulins. At least humans are smarter than these…creatures—at this point, this new true soul would do; Minthara thinks to herself.

“Oh, Sazza. You have made a grave mistake, the woman in front of you is one of the Absolute's favorites. Another True Soul,” Minthara prompts, her voice coming out way more excited than she anticipated; she hates it but it can’t be helped. Especially, when learned that this new True Soul had, indeed, not only known but been to the Grove of the Druids before. A human, easily blended in; and was trusted among the residents? Perfect. Finally, some good news she has been looking for.

“W—what? S—she tells me nothing! I swear mistress!” 

“Did she not tell you…or did you not listen?” Minthara asks the goblin but she faces the human instead; to see if she understands the situation or not, to see her wits. 

“Pardon, she speaks the truth. I fear my cover would be shattered if I were to remain in the Grove talking and giving myself away. Sazza truly doesn’t know,” the human speaks with confidence in her voice, but Minthara could tell it was a lie—there are no infiltrators in the Grove, the fact Minthara herself has no idea where it is self-explanatory. However, the drow let that little lie slide, a little deception with little to no consequence is something Minthara could be amused and impressed by—what this new True Soul could have offered is much more important. 

And so, they worked together. Time after time, the woman has not yet disappointed Minthara–not one bit. Something, then, has grown inside Minthara–something that became delighted to see her favorite True Soul waltz in with yet another report of tasks successfully handled. Then, after duties were done–they started talking; something beyond, something…more ‘detached’ from the goal of the absolute. All on Minthara initiation. The drow has become more and more dreadful at her feelings toward the human, as it became more obvious each minute passed spending time with her. Minthara bit her feelings down though. There is no time and space for that, there are tasks ahead and she has to be focused. Still, Minthara admitted to herself that it did feel good, to have someone she could trust her life right by her side. 

—--------- 

Praying is never enough. Words, all swimming through Minthara’s fractured mind–her past, her upbringing, and the drow’s teaching. But you shall pray nonetheless, pray to spider queen, not for favor, not for anything in return but pray for that is our duty. Pray, Pray, Pray. She has always done that since she could read–dedicated herself to the teachings and whatnot. Even in exile now, her old habits die hard–so she started praying once again, to every god and beyond that she could think of. Dead silence, nothing has answered. Just like how Lolth would be most of the time. Minthara is nothing now but a lamb to be slaughtered–except, she would rather be killed and eaten than have her self and identity erased forever. As her mind is being forced to split open, revealing all that she would keep to herself to the interrogators, a familiar face has flashed through her mind. Her favorite human, I wonder where she is now? Did she make it here? The Moonrise Tower? Is she…still alive? Ah.. there will be the time they show me her mangled corpse, won’t they? Minthara thinks she tries as hard as she can to brush her off but all these thoughts make her fear–not for herself but the others her. Then, she feels the soothing presence of someone she’s very familiar with.

“Minthara..?” the voice reverbs against the blurry boundary of her mind. It is her. Minthara’s prayers have been answered. Not by the divine, a mortal has grabbed her broken mind–she is the one who answered. 

[kit-williams]

Mermay: Tyberos

Also consider this a call for Mermay tags? Unless the normal taglist is fine

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

tw: blood, light body horror

Ophelia hardly came to the beach... she was content living so far inland... with her flowers and her bees... but she treated herself to a trip away. The early morning wind whipping her hair around even in it's bun. It was suppose to be a treat this year too... there was a shiver of mersharks passing by this year and Ophelia wanted to see them. She could hardly afford to go when the deep sea school of Night Lords came to the surface to sing as much as she wanted to hear them.

Ophelia slowly meandered her way down to the beach... but her eyes landed on all the gulls pecking at something large and grey... it had to be over 10 feet... from head to... tail! She rushed over scaring the gulls away as they had already ripped out pieces of meat from him... he had to be huge even for a mer... scars crisscrossed his entire body. His dorsal and caudal fins were rough and torn up. "Oh god... oh god... please don't be dead." Ophelia said running back to the cabin she was staying at and grabbing a bucket as well as her phone.

Mer's could stay out of the water for some time but the larger the mer the less likely he could support himself out of the water... though then again... there were stories about the heads of mer clans- Ophelia shook her head as she scooped up water not seeing the gathering dorsal fins and grey skinned heads poking out of the waves. It was early enough that maybe the sun wouldn't kill him yet? She noticed black markings along his back and tail... it almost looked like tattoos. His stark white hair was damp as she poured the water over his gills watching them suddenly flair and her joy turned to terror as mer's move so fast even on land.

Ophelia was screaming but she knew it was drowned out by the waves as the snarl from him was deep and gutteral as his black eyes darted around. Blood from face splattered onto her. All Ophelia could do was cover her face with her arms as she was being crushed by a mer shark. This is not how she was expecting to die... eaten by a mer.

Tyberos did his best to come down from his battle high as he looked at the human under him smeared with his blood as they were crying and begging. A clawed hand wrapped around one of the arms hiding her face and pulled back as he wanted to see it again. She trembled under him as her eyes were wet and wide as he huffed down at her just looking her over now that he had come down from his addrenaline high.

She was panting hard ... he looked over and saw the bucket nearby... he could hear the shiver calling to him from the waves. She remembered the warning to not make eye contact with mer's... there was something about their eyes... that... that were so beautifully black. Tyberos nuzzles his savior trilling and letting out a soft whisper, "Thank you little one... won't you come swimming?" He purrs as he smears some of his blood on her bottom lip. "Wont you make sure I can swim properly." Tyberos trills as he pulls himself off of her as he crawls to the shore.

Mers were horrifyingly fast and strong for aquatic creatures but Ophelia blinked as she was suddenly thigh deep in the water when whatever spell looking him in the eye did to her and as she turned his arms wrapped around her as they pulled her into the riptide. Ophelia feels bodies press against her even a few push their mouths against her own and push air into her mouth before they surface.

Well... she surfaces as they let her go and the shore is so far off... the ocean under her a dark blue... it's still early in the morning... she tries her best to not panic but she is not the strongest swimmer and when her chin dips below the water causing her to panic. Tyberos wraps his arms around her as his strong tail keeps him bobbing in the water. He's warm she realizes as she clings to him... eyes darting to the dozens of smaller shark mers as they get closer and a few wrap their mouth against her skin and Ophelia tries to keep calm.

She loudly whimpers causing Tyberos to chuckle as he lays on his back just keeping her on his stomach allowing his brothers to swim closer to look at his "savior" as she looks down into the water... eyes widening as she can see more mer's below the water. She swallows and lets Tyberos rub his hands on her face and eventually she feels the large form pull her into the water as once more she was shared air and kept warm by several bodies as Tyberos lazily swam back.

And Ophelia was back on the shore staring him deep in the eyes as his lip was bleeding but... it didn't matter as he kissed her hard. Pulling away with strands of saliva connecting them as he whispered, "Thank you." And was gone.

Ophelia thought that would be the end of it... and went back to her normal life... till months later she couldn't ignore the aches of her body... the doctors couldn't figure it out and in desperation she went back to the beach and went into the water. The cool waves rolling over her and as she felt relief... she could feel his body against her's... His hips meeting hers... and breathless as his mouth was against her's again.

Months go by and again and again the relief in her joints only comes from going into the water and every time it seems like he, Tyberos as she learns his name, is waiting for her.

Once more she lets them pull her into the riptide... but their rough skin seems to rip off her own skin as small gills are freed from the layers of skin they hide under...she can see how pretty the moon is from under the water... so clearly... and Ophelia remembers a story from her childhood... how the flesh of a mer is suppose to grant immortality at the cost of your humanity... and you have a realization that every time Tyberos had kissed you that his lip was always bleeding and his blood was sickly sweet....

Tyberos grins at the realization on her face as she tries to swim to the surface but she still has legs and Tyberos squeezes Ophelia until she is forced to "inhale" her first breath of water... her tiny gills fluttering as Tyberos rips away her clothes as the shiver swims around her some rubbing against her as she thrashes trying to get free but she tires herself out and the shiver swims off into the dark with a new member.

[not-a-space-alien]

Desperate Daybreak Chapter 6

In this chapter: Valen gives it a try...

MMSS masterpost

DD masterpost

On AO3

Warnings for this chapter: Self harm, pregnancy dysphoria, depictions of someone undergoing dissociation and extreme mental trauma, sexual assault TW. This chapter has heavy themes and depictions of self harm. Also some brief touching on disordered eating.

Update: Here is a summary of the chapter for those worried about whether or not they can read it due to the self harm depictions.

***

Lex and Ari managed to cook quite a good dinner.  They then sat eating it at the table, remarking over and over to each other how good it was.

Valen desperately wished he could taste it.  To experience this with them.  He couldn’t even get his own equivalent and partake alongside him–his equivalent of a delicious meal would be horrifying to them, something he wouldn’t want them to see.

The braindead humans loitering around would occasionally shuffle over and sit at the table, as though they knew mealtime meant sitting at the table together despite none of them being hungry or eating.  They didn’t respond to Lex’s offer to let them taste the food.  They didn’t appear to be particularly enjoying anything that was happening.  They just knew dinner meant sitting at the table together.

Valen wondered if they developed their own limited social dynamics, locked in here with barely a thought between the lot.

“I’ll figure out the best way to help you,” he told them.  “Just be patient a little while longer, okay?”  He was beginning to realize what a monumental task that was.  These humans wouldn’t remember their own names.  Their families.  Where they came from.  How to even survive and function on their own.  No one had ever documented a human reverting to having higher brain functions after being mindwiped from years of exposure to persuasion.  It might not even be possible.  They were essentially walking corpses.  They barely cared if you hurt them.

He could grapple with the moral implications of that later.  For now, he locked the door to the human quarters and left things as they were.

When they got back to the guest suite, Tessie was laid out on one of the queen-sized beds in cozy pajamas, going at her nails with cotton balls.  “How was dinner?” she said.

“It was great!” Lex said.  “Are you doing your nails?”  She sat on the edge of the bed, and Tessie immediately perked up.

“Do you want to do each other’s nails?  I’ve never gotten to do–er, the girls growing up all had sleepovers and stuff, but I never got to do that.”

“We can do that!” Lex enthused.  “Girls’ night!”

Valen smiled as he watched Lex sit on the bed and start rifling through Tessie’s nail polish.  At least there could still be some small joys here, among the horrors.  “I think I’m going to take that bath, now.”

“Hey,” Ari said, standing in his way.  “You haven’t eaten since we set out.”

Valen averted his eyes.  “My stomach was in knots.”

“You need to feed.”

How could I possibly feed after the scene in the human quarters?  “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Valennnn,” Lex said in a singsong voice.  She tilted her head and tapped her neck.  “Come on, it won’t kill anyone.  You can’t do anything on an empty stomach.”

Valen stood there waffling back and forth before he came over and bit down very gently.  He took a few sips before giving up and licking the wound closed.  “Thank you.”

Lex hadn’t even stopped looking through the nail polish.  He appreciated her nonchalance.  It was the only thing keeping him from spiraling.  “Now go get your bath.”

The tub was wonderfully deep.  He submerged himself up to his neck in warm, fragrant water, fiddling with the foam from the bubble bath.  He soaked for a while with his thoughts.  Everything seemed more manageable with Lex and Ari here to help him, and Tessie was quickly becoming a treasured support as well.

The bath relaxed him considerably, and when he came out he saw that Tessie and Lex had convinced Ari to sit down and allow herself to be subjected to her nails being painted.

They spent the morning listening to the radio and giving each other manicures, in better spirits by far than earlier.  Nobody was even that upset when Ari inevitably messed up her nail polish before it was dry.

***

Valen always tried to sleep by himself, but on his bad nights he often found himself slithering in beside Lex and Ari.  He woke them up, but they always graciously pretended not to notice.

Lex and Ari had taken the king-sized bed, and Valen and Tessie the two queens adjacent to the biggest room in the suite.  He put on his comfiest pair of pajamas and bade goodnight to Lex and Ari, who still refused to stop their amazed commentary on how fancy everything was, from the soaps to the beds to the carpets and vanities.

And then he just lay there, wishing he could fall asleep instead of needing a safety blanket like a child.

He felt Priscus’s arms around him.  His hands around his neck.  His hands around lower, more sensitive places.  Not even the bastard dying could free Valen from that wretched fate.

He tossed and turned.  He felt Nick’s hands on him, his burning metal, his cruel words, the humiliating and painful things Valen had been subjected to.  He only realized he’d managed to fall asleep when he jolted awake from having a dream about Nick wearing Priscus’s face.

He tiptoed through the suite to reach where Lex and Ari lay tangled in each other’s limbs.  Trying to be as light-footed as possible, he climbed into the bed and inserted himself between the two women.

***

Valen snuck out of bed early to crawl back into his own bed, to avoid the complicated feelings he had being in bed beside Lex and Ari as they all woke up.  The two humans politely declined to acknowledge the fact that he'd been there at all, instead pretending they were seeing him for the first time as he walked out in his pajamas.

“Sleep well?” Lex asked.

Valen nodded.  “I'm still torn about the humans here at the manor.”  He couldn't on good conscience condone the staff biting the humans, but… what would forbidding it actually accomplish?  The humans would still be just as stuck here, unable to help themselves.  Just as braindead.  They hardly seemed to care one way or the other.  The manor staff, on the other hand, enjoyed fresh on demand blood as one of their job perks, so suddenly cutting that off would result in some ill will.  Maybe he could offset that with a pay raise?

But then what?  He just had a bunk full of walking, unfeeling husks?  To what end?  Trying to connect them with any sort of help or reunion with their families was going to be a monumental task.  It'd simply never been done before, or at least done with such low frequency there was no infrastructure or guidance available to expedite the process.

In the end, he decided to avoid making a decision for now and just not make any announcements.  He managed to avoid feeling guilty about it by reasoning it wasn't his fault it was set up like this, and there wasn't any point in changing it yet when it wouldn't make any difference.  These humans were a drop in the bucket compared to the work they had ahead of them, so might as well wait till they figure out what to do about the other…. thousands of people.

And besides, he had a much more challenging task ahead of him today.

Valen swallowed as Tessie slid the papers over to him.  “Here's the information for the fertility clinic. There will probably need to be repeat appointments, but the first one is going to be the hardest. We can go any time this week.”

“Let's do it today,” Valen said, even as it made dread swell inside him.  “I can't bear the thought of stewing in anticipation all week.  It's better to just get it over with quickly.”  He was really doing this.  He'd gone out of his way to avoid becoming pregnant when Priscus was alive, and now that the man was dead, Valen was going to purposefully try to have his child, because for some godforsaken reason the universe had set itself up such that Valen getting pregnant would give him the ability to save thousands of people.

Fitting, symbolically a little.  Maybe he was giving birth to a messiah?  It could be, if he raised them to value human life, and then took over when they turned 18.  That seemed the best option.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad with Lex and Ari here.  Maybe they could help him raise it.  He would even say he might like the idea of raising a child with them, if he didn't have to be the one to carry it.

It wouldn't be Priscus’s child, not really.  The man was fucking dead.  Valen was here, and he could do this.

He hoped.

***

Valen wanted to go by himself for some godforsaken reason.  They managed to talk him into letting Lex and Ari take him there, at the very least, and then they waited in the van outside the clinic anxiously.

“Fucking stupid,” Ari muttered.  

Lex opened the passenger door to stretch her legs.  “Yeah.”

“He’s in there alone being violated by his stupid fucking- fucking stupid ass husband postmortem.”

“Babe.”

“And he didn’t even want us to come in.”

“He has his reasons.”

“Well, they’re stupid.”

“Come on, babe.”

Ari gripped the steering wheel and shook herself.  “I wish he was still alive so I could kill him again.  Priscus.  Priscunt.”

“Babe.”

“Pisscus.”

“He doesn’t want us to see him like this, I guess.  He’s been humiliated enough-”

“And we’ve seen it all!  We just want to be there for him!”

“He knows.”

“And he didn’t-”

“He’ll be out soon.  Surely.”

“He better.  Close the damn door, some vampire bystander is going to come take a bite of you.”

“You think I look that delicious?”

“Not now, you horny slut.  I’m not having car sex outside a vampire family planning clinic, of all things.”

“Oh-!  Oh, there he is!”

The two craned their necks to see him coming out the front door.

“Uh-oh,” Ari said.

“Shit,” Lex added.

Valen stumbled out, eyes glazed over, shaking.

“Shit,” Ari said.  She put the car in gear and pulled around to get close to him.  “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

Lex hopped out and opened the door.  “Come on, get in.”

Valen looked at her foggily.

“How did it go?”

Valen burst into tears, sinking to his knees.  He looked completely shellshocked.

“Shit,” Ari said.  The door ajar alarm sounded as Ari abandoned the car to come scoop him off the sidewalk.  He was crying too hard to speak, quivering in her arms.  “Talk to me, baby.”

He only managed to cough, sounding like he was going to throw up.

“Shit.”  Ari sat him down on the edge of the van.  “You’re okay.  You’re okay.  Uh, three things you can see, five you can touch–what the what it was or whatever.  Breathe.”

Valen had a faraway look in his eyes, completely unresponsive to everything the two of them were saying to him.  Still sobbing, he pulled his shirt up and started to claw at his abdomen–down near his pubic mound.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Lex said, grabbing his wrists.

“Hey, hey, no, no,” Ari said, also grabbing his arms.

“Get it out,” Valen wept.  “Take it out.  I can’t do it.”

The two humans were, of course, not nearly as strong as him, so he simply wrenched his arm out of their grasps and then tore at his own belly until he drew blood.

“Stop!” Lex yelled.  “Valen, stop!”

Ari approached from behind and put her arms around him.  Copying her, Lex sandwiched Valen between them from the front.

The violent motions stopped, dissolving into hopeless weeping.

“You’re okay, baby,” Ari said.  “You’re okay.  We’ve got you.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Lex said.  “You’ve been hurt enough.”

Ari clenched her teeth.  “Lex, stay here for a minute.”

Vampires had payphones, luckily.  Ari wasn’t sure why they wouldn’t have them, but she’d still been nervous about not being able to find one.  She did, though, and plunked a few quarters in and punched in the number for the guest quarters at the Kithrara estate.

“How’d it go?” was the first thing Tessie said.

“Bad,” Ari said gruffly.  “Tessie, we have to figure something else out.  This won’t work.  Even if Valen wants to, he can’t.  This is going to make him completely nonfunctional.”

There was the sound of paper rustling on the other end of the line.  “Uhh.  I mean, if he-”

“He’s not going to be okay with just giving up, though.”

“If we-”

“We need a miracle.  Can you give us a miracle, Tessie?  Some stupid loophole or subclause of a subclause that only a lawyer who’s good at mind-numbingly boring legal bullshit would find?”

Silence.

“Please?”

“Give me an hour.”

***

An hour, it turned out, was about how long it took to drive back to the estate.  Valen was almost completely nonverbal, electing to spend the entire ride curled up on the floor with his hands over his ears, rocking himself gently.

“We’re going to figure this out, okay?” Lex kept soothing him.  “You don’t have to deal with this on your own.  We’re here.  We’re going to take care of you.”

Ari pulled the van up onto the Kithrara’s nice, manicured lawn and came around to help Lex, who was half-pulling Valen out of the van.

“I’m sorry,” Valen said hoarsely.  “I’m sorry.  It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay, baby.”

“I can do it, I can still do it, they’re all counting on me.”

“We’re going to help you figure it out.  We’re here.”

Ari went ahead to make sure they had a clear path to the guest suite–the last thing Valen needed was to be approached by any of the staff.  She locked the door behind them as Lex guided Valen onto the bed.

Good call going with the guest suite.  No telling what it would have done to Valen’s psyche to be put into his marriage bed after that experience.

He flopped over, wrung out, face in the pillow.  “Sorry,” his muffled voice said.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, sweetheart,” Lex said.  “You’re okay.”

Valen turned over, clamping his hand over where he’d wounded himself earlier.  “That was just the… I don’t know if I can-”

“You don’t have to.”

“But they’re-”

“Stop,” Tessie broke in.  “Don’t spiral.”

Valen squeezed his eyes shut.

“This isn’t going to work if you’re too psychologically incapacitated to do us any good even if you fulfill the terms of the will.”

“I’m sorry,” Valen said again, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t do it.  It’s too much.”

“I think I have a way we can do this without you having to be pregnant.”

Valen sat up, hope written all over his face.

Tessie threw down a bottle of pills.

“What’s this?”

“Ovrette, in a dosage that induces miscarriage in vampires.”

Valen dove on the pill bottle and swallowed them all without any water.

“There you go,” Lex said, rubbing his back.

Valen wiped his mouth, embarrassed.  He did feel a lot better, though.  It was instant, the second the pills went down his throat.  “What shall we do, then?” he said miserably, desperate for some solution that didn’t destroy him and didn’t doom thousands of humans.

Tessie laid the will out on the table.  It was an absurd document, the scroll rolling off the edge and dangling towards the floor, so long was its length.

“So, here’s the thing,” Tessie said.  She chewed on her nail–the fact that the fresh polish was already destroyed evidenced that she’d been doing that quite a lot before they’d arrived.  “Fertility rate is so low for vampires that even with fertility treatments, ten years is still a pretty short time to expect conception.  The will lays out you getting pregnant within ten years to be realistic.  That’s pretty much the fastest it could happen, if you keep all your appointments at the clinic.  The success rate of each treatment is so low.”

Valen hugged his arms around himself.  “And…?”

“And since the chance of you getting pregnant is so low, it’s not going to be obvious that you’re violating the terms of the will by not getting pregnant… until the ten years are up.  Hell, we might even have a strong case for arguing that ten years is too short and we could get it extended.”

Valen stared at her misty-eyed.  “Are you suggesting…?”

“We just don’t fucking do it,” Ari said flatly.  “Are you saying we just don’t do it, and they can’t prove we’re not going to do it, because the time limit isn’t up yet?”

Tessie nodded.  “You know what they say about it being easier to ask forgiveness than permission?  And possession being nine-tenths of the law?”

“We’re already here,” Valen said, relief dawning on him.  “We’re here and controlling the estate and ostensibly doing what we’re supposed to be doing, so if someone wants to wrestle it away, they have an uphill battle to prove-”

“To prove there isn’t going to be an heir in ten years.  Which is ten years from now.”  She chewed on her nail.  “That gives us a decade.”

“A free decade,” Lex said.  “To just haul ass and get as much done as we can before the estate is repossessed.” 

"Yes," Tessie said. "Combing through the technicalities in the document, Valen will legally control the estate until the ten years are up and he hasn't produced an heir. So we just act like the heir is going to come eventually and the fertility treatments just haven't worked yet, and in those ten years we do as much work as we can get away with."

Valen buried his face in his hands.  “That I can do.”

***

Taglist

@tomato-whump @dragonfireridge @taterswhump @whump-cravings

@scoundrelwithboba @pigeonwhumps @whumpsday @whumpy-writings @fuzzydarkpebble

@melodicnommer @thecyrulik @snake462 @gt-daboss @appelsiinilight

@star-rott @mottinthemainpot @corvidat @melancholy-in-the-morning @whumplr-reader

@honeycollectswhump @dragonqueenslayer6 @whumpycries @starfields08000 @scumashling

@demetercabingreen-thumb

[moriitis]

What if you let Jack eat you?

Extreme TWs for this one, gore, blood, cannibalistic natures, being eaten, vomit.

Well, where would he start first? Of course, the feelings were always there in the beginning, the hunger. It took a lot to restrain himself around you, especially due to the fact that you were human. The smell of your blood teased him, he could practically hear it gushing through your veins. So sweet, so inviting and each second he spent around you, he was endlessly drooling.

So what if you gave into his desires? If one day you gave him full consent to feast on you, to ravish at you until you were nothing but a pile of bones. He was shocked at first, confused, why would someone be so willing? Not only that, but to a monster such as himself? He was hesitant, unsure on what to say but he knew in the back of his mind his head and body craved the taste of you more than he could've imagined.

He insisted on some anaesthetic (although it would ruin the taste) because the idea of hurting you wasn't something he was fond of. It would heighten the experience though, hearing you scream out in pain until it became too much and you passed out, unconscious. But you simply denied the request.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice nothing but a low whisper. Maybe you were not well, maybe you were just in a state of hysteria and feeling reckless? "Are you sure?" was the other question that followed after the first. You were adamant. Jack was confused, was it a kink thing? Because he knew that once he started, he couldn't stop and he would kill you, no doubt about it.

So after a couple days of consideration and his stomach growling at him to pursue his deepest desires, he gave in and agreed that he would eat away at you.

It took him awhile though, to caress your body, to feel the warmth radiating from your skin. You were trembling but he didn't blame you, being eaten alive would scare the bravest person alive. His own breath shook at the lust of consuming you, of having your muscle between his teeth as he ripped you apart. He was drooling, salivating at the idea and he quickly clasped a hand over his mouth.

Time ticked away, you didn't question nor push him to hurry, you were simply sat on the mattress below you, feeling a wave of nausea. Not even you understood why you wanted this.

But Jack forced himself to stand back away from you, his legs and arms trembling as he tried to control himself. Why? WHY? Was all that he could think about, why would any sane person want this? But before he could leave the room, before he could hesitate any further, he froze.

A smell lingered in the air, a smell so sweet that is basically made him gasp. It was a smell that practically called his name.

'Come Jack, come catch a taste.'

He shivered in delight, the hairs on the back of his neck standing as he tried to push aside his rational thoughts. He doubled over a little, arms wrapped around his stomach.

The blade in your hand dug deep into the palm of your other. It hurt but you were determined to spill blood, to tip Jack over the edge. Warmth of your blood trickled down your wrist and down to your elbow, you were trembling a little.

You always considered how you would die, when you would, but the idea of sacrificing yourself to a monster wasn't something you anticipated.

As the smell hit him, Jack was no longer Jack as his mind raced. He was panting, his hands clasping over that blue mask of his before he ripped it off and threw it to the floor. It clattered and created an echo in the basement, you eyes glued to Jack as his body fought against his thoughts. You could see the drool dripping down from his mouth and onto the floor, you could see the hairs on his arms were raised at the sheer thought of cannibalistic desires.

There wasn't much time to react as Jack practically pounced at your very being, he was growling, his teeth were sharp and they glistened as his drool dripped down onto your skin. In a swift move, he grabbed your hand and ripped away the blade before throwing that across the room. He shivered and let out a groan of pleasure as he brought your hand up to his nostrils, sucking in the smell of your blood in a way that made him react like an animal.

You were frightened. You wanted to run, the adrenaline pumping through your body as you watched helplessly. You would've run but your body was frozen in time as you simply watched this demon slide his long tongue out from his mouth. The saliva dripped off the tip and he reached his tongue out to slide it against the palm of your hand. His tongue danced in the puddle of blood, wrapping around your wrist and almost pulling you closer. There was an animalistic growl that emitted from Jack, deep within the crevasses of his chest as he felt the taste of your blood hit his taste buds.

Metallic, sweet, so warm.. He wasn't thinking as he suddenly clamped his teeth around your hand. You screamed, a scream so bloodcurdling that anyone nearby would've froze. But there was nobody and as a small thought of regret crossed your mind, you knew right there and then it was too late.

His teeth, so razor sharp, buried into your flesh and in a movement quicker than you could've blinked, he ripped his mouth away.

You didn't feel it at first, you didn't notice it at first until you glanced down at what would've been your hand. Instead nothing but a mound of flesh that occasionally squirted out blood. Your fingers, all five which were once there, gone in an instant. You sucked in a breath to scream but nothing came out, your throat so dry.

And there you fell back onto the mattress, your blood soaking into the fabric as your vision went blurry and then black. When you awoke, you simply let out a groan. You were limp, so weak..

You pushed with the little amount of energy you had left to lift your head, glancing down.

And there he was, that demon, that monster, crouched over you. He was smothered in blood, his face coated red along with those hands, which were currently inside your abdomen, fishing for anything that seemed appeasing. He straightened for a moment as he pulled out your intestines, they were wrapped around his wrist as he ate away at them. They looked chewy as he bit at them, small grunts and groans as he chewed away helplessly.

You let out a yell, although it felt as if you were drowning. It alerted the creature and he paused to glance at you, but his sockets were empty, the only thing you felt consuming you was the darkness of what should've been his eyes. His ears pinned back as he snarled and hissed out, he reached over, one hand on your head and the other on your collarbone as he forced your head back to reveal the flesh on your neck.

He reached forward and lingered at the skin of your neck, his breath so warm that if you weren't so numbed, you would've shivered. He hesitated, like some human inside of him was alive, desperately clawing to get out of this demons body. His brows furrowed, like his conscious kicked in and he finally realised what he had done but as quick as the look of regret flashed across his face, the quicker this monster regained focus, his purpose.

He lurched forward and bit down into your neck. Now you really were choking as blood began to fill your throat and mouth. He pulled away, strings of flesh still attached to your neck and his teeth. Blood dripped down to his chin as the string of flesh finally snapped. You were gagging on the metallic taste of blood, your gaze still fixed on Jack above you.

He was chewing on your skin slowly, savouring the taste, letting the warmth of your blood slip down his throat in an welcoming gesture.

You wanted to let go, to die here, in the mattress in some basement, but you held on, you held on for long enough to suddenly see Jack slap a hand over his face and scramble away from you. As you gasped your last breaths, you found yourself watching him as he pushed his body to the corner of the room.

He was screaming, yelling, but you didn't hear it. He hunched over and suddenly a stream of vomit escaped from him and his mouth. He collapsed to his knees, his hands supporting his upper frame as his vomit began to puddle around his fingers. You could see each twitch of his stomach as more and more of you escaped from his mouth, the blood, the chunks of fat and muscle.

You turned your head back to look at the light bulb dangling in front of you, your vision a haze.

Being eaten by Jack was so hauntingly beautiful.

[jadewolf22]

Welcome to the Pack: Chapter 1

Summary: Zombie apocalypse AU with Gwendoline Christie’s characters x fem!reader x OC Character (Beth) Featuring: Phasma, Brienne, Larissa, Gwen (in Fabric), Lyme (Hunger Games), Jane, Jan, & Lady Jane (The Darkest Minds) with mentions of Miranda and Anna (Welcome to Marwen) based off of this post by @rippersz

TW: Apocalyptic world (?), OC is hit by vehicle, strong language, mentions of death/killing, mentions of PTSD/Trauma, implications of smut, implications of poly-amorous hierarchy/ poly-amorous relationships involving nine people, wolf pack-like environment (reader is referred to as “Alpha”), ext…

A/n: I apologize for the amount of Russian and French in here. I have Russian heritage and wanted to pay a little tribute to that here (ended up being a lot more than a little) and also just felt like it would be a nice little tribute to some of the people on here who aren’t native English speakers. I hope to use more languages in other fics for this same purpose. Reader is American but was taught fluent Russian by a close friend of hers.

Word Count: 8,073

No one truly knows where the virus came from. Some say the Chinese created it, others the Russians, still others claim that it wasn’t created at all but rather an effect of global warming or some kind of solar flare. All anyone could truly agree on was that it was dangerous and deadly. The Serix Virus, as scientists later called it, was a physically transmitted disease that transformed the infected into zombie-like creatures that were unable to feel pain with half-decayed, green skin and bloodshot, yellow eyes; you could shoot one and it wouldn’t go down until a bullet found its head. 

Eurasia fell victim to it in the first month, with Africa and Australia not far behind. Three months later South America and Mexico followed. The survivors came flooding to North America, hoping for sanctuary, but none was received. Not even a month later the first cases were reported in North America and the rest of the world went to hell. People scrambled, turning on one another like gladiators in an arena. Fear took over and humanity crumbled, all in less than a year. Now, nearly three years later, the world remains black and dead. The “creatures” outnumber the human race twenty to one, if not more. They travel in packs just like most of the survivors-at least the survivors who were actually smart-shuffling through the remains of towns and cities, searching for their next meals of sweet human flesh; all too eager to taste blood in their mouths and skin in their teeth. To feast on people like Beth. 

Beth was a small town woman of 29 from Luray, Virginia and the lone survivor of her hometown. Everyone, her friends, her family, were gone, having either been eaten or transfigured and she was, permanently, on the run. With no weapons other than a little glock with only one full mag left and almost no remaining food Beth knew her time was almost up. She was no survivalist; she had no impressive background or knew any kind of self defense other than her fairly good aim, which would do nothing to save her when her mag ran empty. With her hope fading as the days went by, Beth moved to camp beside a road, her last chance to find salvation-to get help. 

She sat there on the side of the road for days, watching helplessly as the sun began to set at the end of her fourth day there and there was still no sign of help. Beth was about to give up and move on when something-a low rumble in the distance-caught her attention. She stood up and turned towards the sound, walking towards the curve in the road from where the noise was coming. It grew louder-the steady roar of a motor-and Beth’s heart leapt. She ran towards the curve, hoping to see the vehicle as it approached and catch the attention of its driver, but it was closer than she’d thought. 

A large black blur came speeding around the corner, clipping Beth’s right side and sending her flying backwards across the road. Beth screamed as pain radiated through her. Her arm was on fire, her head throbbed, the world was spinning, and her legs ached. She didn’t dare move for fear that something had been broken. 

Beth jumped a little when she heard car doors open and voices shouting at each other from inside the vehicle,

“-Are you out of your goddamn mind-?!”

“-Just leave her-!”

“-Not gonna leave her when it’s my fault! Now get your ass’s out there and help me!” 

Footsteps came running towards Beth, two blurry figures kneeling beside her. She couldn’t see much but well enough to know that they were both pale, one with long black hair, the other with short blonde hair. Together they lifted her, Beth screaming in pain as her body protested the movement. They carried her up into the vehicle-a black mini bus, and laid her down across the seats, which had been turned to create two long benches along either side of the bus, leaving a wide space between them for boxes of supplies. 

“Let’s go, let’s go!” a third person growled from the front of the bus as the other two took their seats, one person beside Beth and the other on the bench across from her.

Beth screamed as the bus jolted forward, grabbing hold of her arm as she began to slip in and out of consciousness from the pain. 

“Gwen, you get to explain this to the Alpha when we get back,” the voice from the front of the bus growled. It was deep and cold, mildly monotone with a clipped English accent and a slightly rough edge to it. Beth couldn’t see its owner but could guess that whoever it was was not someone to fuck around with, “She’s made it clear that outsider’s aren’t welcome-”

“You know what, Phasma, foutre en l'air! I didn’t ask for your damn opinion!” another voice, this one softer, more melodic, almost haunty with a soft English edge to it, snapped, a low growl tearing from the throat of its owner, “I’m sure she’ll understand my reasoning-”

“Not fucking likely,” the deeper voice grumbled as the vehicle shook and swayed, causing Beth to whimper every other minute, “Last time one of us brought someone back, Alpha turned him into crawler food real quick.” 

Crawler? Beth had heard the creatures called many things; flesh-eaters, zombies, the undead, but never Crawlers. The term was fitting, though. They did move at a crawling pace until they smelled food. 

“Last time we brought someone back, it was a man,” the softer voice countered, sounding annoyed, “Alpha made it clear no men were permitted in the camp, she’s had no problem bringing in women. What about Miran-?”

“Enough Gwen, you made your point.” a third voice cut in, a commanding edge to their tone. This voice was quiet, crisp, and rather gritty. There were hints of an accent to it, but Beth could not place where exactly it was from- somewhere in Europe, if she had to guess, based on its resemblance to the other two, “This is not our mess to deal with. When we get home we’ll hand her over to Jane and Gwen will explain what happened to Alpha. If she’s lucky, the Alpha will let her stay.” 

The other two grumbled in agreement, silence taking over the vehicle, allowing Beth to fully succumb to the hold of sleep. When she faded back to a semi consciousness, Beth was no longer in the bus but instead lying on some kind of cot, listening to a rather heated discussion between a large group of people,

“-Why would you bring her here?! We barely have enough food to go around as it is-!”

“Don’t try to pull one of those again. We all know there’s enough food here to last us years-!”

“That’s a rough estimate-!”

“It doesn’t matter if we have enough food or not! They’re injured, which makes them nothing but a hindrance to us! We should have left them where we found them-!”

“Not everyone here is as much of a hardass as you are, Phasma!! Forgive us for trying to have a little empathy-”

“Empathy isn’t going to help us survive!”

“Alright, доста́точно!!” Silence fell immediately. Beth didn’t know what the word ‘dostátočno’ meant, but it was clear that the others did, “That’s enough, all of you… While I appreciate the input, the decision is mine to make. Gwen… I want you to stay with her until she wakes up. When she does have Jane give her a quick lookover then bring her to me. We can figure out what to do from there… Everyone else просто позвольте этому быть. It’s not the end of the world-”

“No. That’s already happened…”

“Phasma, I don’t wanna hear another word out of you, Вы меня понимаете??!”

“... Yes, Alpha…”

“Thank you. Now, все возвращаются на работу…Phasma, Bri, I want that hole in the wall patched up by sundown.”

“We’re doing what we can, but there’s not enough materials to fortify it completely.”

“Then we’ll make another run, tomorrow. We cannot stand to let that wall have gaps in it. It’s too dangerous to-”

The rest of whatever the person had been saying faded away as Beth slipped back under sleep’s sweet spell. The second time she woke, Beth was fully conscious, opening her eyes for the first time in what felt like days. She was in some kind of large, stone room with high, intricately designed ceilings lying on what seemed to be an old-timey hospital bed. Her right arm was in a sling, both of her legs were wrapped in compression bandages from the knees down, and there was a thick gauze wrapping around her hairline. Every part of Beth’s body felt stiff, her broken arm felt full of pins and needles, and her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat. 

“It’s about time you woke up, petite souris,” came a voice to Beth’s left, causing her to jump. 

Beth looked over to see who the voice belonged to, and found her breath taken by the beauty across from her. The woman was tall and incredibly pale, possessing a slender yet shapely figure, with graceful curves and a lustrous cascade of dyed black waves that fell in loose tendrils around her shoulders, framing her face like a dark halo. Her hair had a glossy sheen that caught the light streaming from the nearby windows, imbuing her with an almost supernatural radiance and her lips were full and painted with a deep, velvety shade of red. Steel blue eyes watched Beth closely, framed by thick lines of black eyeliner. She wore a fitted shirt with a black and white checkered pattern and with sheer, flared sleeves as well as black leather pants, a black choker and black, knee-high combat boots. There were two Ruger LCP’s holstered in a belt at her hips and an N4 short barreled rifle resting in her lap, her finger lying lazily over the trigger. 

“Where am I?” Beth asked, wincing as she fought her way up to a sitting position.

“Home, for now, petite souris.” The woman purred in French and Beth recognized her soft, melodic, almost haunty voice with its soft English edge. She was one of the women from the bus, “Unless the Alpha decides otherwise.”

“The Alpha?” Beth repeated, her brows furrowing in confusion. What kind of fucked up cult had she gotten herself into? “Who the fuck is The Alpha?”

“She’s our leader,” the woman explained, her voice hardening slightly at Beth’s confused, almost humored tone, “Our chef de file. The one who keeps us safe from those things crawling around outside… If you’re going to stay with us, you will need to learn to respect her, petite souris. Or she’ll throw you to the crawlers without a second glance.”

“Right… How long have I been here?” 

“About a day-”

“Gwen, you were supposed to come and get me when she woke!”

Beth and the woman-Gwen, jumped in surprise, turning to see another woman walking their way. This woman was about the same height as Gwen, Beth assumed, if not half an inch or so taller, with soft alabaster skin, and a mane of natural raven hair pinned up into some sort of plaited crown around her head. She had a wiry, haunting figure with a regal bearing about her and a rigid posture, conveying an air of authority and severity. Her angular jawline and high cheekbones contributed to that sense of severity, while her piercing sky blue eyes seemed to scrutinize everything with an unwavering gaze. The woman’s face was free of makeup, but by far no less beautiful than Gwen’s, with a small scar adorning her upper lip; something she must have sustained before the virus. She was dressed in a black linen dress that brushed against her mid-thigh with tight sleeves, accessorized with a black and silver corset as well as black leggings and black knee-high boots. Fitting for a post-apocalyptic world yet still fashionable.

“Ouais, peu importe, salope.” Gwen muttered under her breath, giving the second woman a dark look, “She just woke up, Jane. Give me a little slack.”

“Alpha’s orders.” was all the other woman “Jane” responded, her voice cold with a cutting edge to it and a heavy English accent, turning her attention to Beth, “Consider yourself one lucky woman. It’s a rare thing for someone to be hit by a bus and walk away with only a broken arm, a minor laceration, and a few bruises.”

“Tell that to my aching joints.” Beth grumbled. 

“Would you rather I say it to your corpse?” Jane asked, her tone anything but sarcastic. Clearly she was a ‘no-nonsense’ type of woman, “Up! I need to see you move.” 

Groaning internally, Beth swung her legs off the cot and planted her feet firmly on the cold floor, hissing as her joints protested against her movements. She could feel both pairs of eyes on her, sweat gathering at the base of her neck as Beth pushed off the bed with her good arm, standing on wobbly legs. Jane had her walking back and forth along the edge of the bed for several minutes before having Beth try a few stretches that would, hopefully, help to relax the muscles in her legs. 

“That’s as good as you’re going to get for now,” Jane said after a time, rewrapping Beth’s legs after inspecting the swelling, “I’m sure the Alpha’s getting impatient. She’s up on the balcony taking a smoke.” she addressed to Gwen, an indifferent look in her light, sharp eyes.

“Think you can handle stairs, petite souris?” Gwen asked, directing her attention at Beth and ignoring Jane as the imposing figure walked away.

“Do I have much of a choice?” Beth returned. Gwen shrugged, turning on her heel and heading out after Jane with Beth hobbling along behind her. 

Beth couldn’t help but look around in awe as she followed Gwen. They were in some kind of gothic mansion, with tall stone walls and ceilings decorated with intricate patterns, statues and paintings, as well as mahogany accents in the doors and stairway railings. Clearly, this place had been some kind of retreat or something for those who basked in wealth. Everything was well constructed and detailed, too nice for something people of a lower class would have had the privilege of seeing. 

With a little help from Gwen, Beth managed to make it up to the second floor of the building, hoping and praying that “the Alpha” was not on any of the upper floors. There was no way her legs were going to be able to make it up another flight. Relief filled Beth when Gwen began to lead her down a long hallway, away from the stairs. They passed many rooms, most of which were empty, but as they walked past one of the rooms on the far end of the hall, Beth caught a glimpse of a woman standing over a table inside but didn’t have time for a proper look before Gwen drew her attention away. 

“She’ll be in here.” Gwen said, placing her hand on the doorknob of a large mahogany door at the very end of the hall. There was a golden plaque nailed to it which read “Principal Weems”. Apparently, this place had been some kind of school, “Whatever you do, petite souris, don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. And, if you want to have any chance of staying or staying alive, be respectful. If there’s one thing Alpha can’t stand, it’s someone who can’t respect their superiors, comprendre?”

Beth nodded, able to loosely translate the french word. The corner of Gwen’s lips twitched upward in a light smirk before her face went void of expression and she opened the door, beaconing Beth to follow her inside. The room was massive, with well used leather furniture and a large mahogany desk in front of a set of open french doors which led out to a spacious balcony. There was a large marble fireplace to the left of the doorway, carved to look like… medusa? At first the room smelled faintly of wine and must, and then a gentle breeze blew the scent of cigar smoke in through the open balcony doors, drawing Beth’s attention to the figure leaning against the stone railing of the balcony, facing in towards the room; You. 

Beth didn’t know what she’d expected from someone who called themselves “the Alpha” but whatever it was was not what you were. When she and Gwen reached you and you rose to your full height you towerd over both of them like a fucking skyscraper with a broad, maculine body complete with soft ivory skin, thick meaty hands, prominent veins, and muscles that might as well have been chisled from stone. Short red hair cut in a 90’s bob framed a sharply defined, oval face allowing your deep green eyes with their frightful and unnerving gaze to stand to attention. You wore a loose-fitting bronze t-shirt tucked into black jeans decorated with custom-sewn pockets all down the legs with a brown and black flannel tied around your waist, a gold watch on your wrist glinted off the dying sunlight, and black, knee-high combat boots similar to Gwen’s adorned your feet; though yours had to be at least three sizes bigger. There were two Glock 19’s in a holster around your waist, a semi-auto .22LR slung across your back, and a knife as long as Beth’s forearm in a vertical sheath across the back of your holster; the many pockets of your jeans bulging with mags for the three guns.

“Give us a moment, would you малыш,” you addressed to Gwen, taking a long drag from the joint between your fingers, continuing to speak as you released the smoke from your lips, your voice silky yet harsh with a tough, demanding and authoritative tone that matched the rest of your persona perfectly, “Why don’t you go see if you can help Jan with the mending? I’m sure she could use a second pair of hands. If not, tell Jane I told you to help her with supper.” 

Gwen gave a small nod, turning and walking away without so much as a glance in Beth’s direction. Beth had caught the Russian word for ‘baby’ and realized that it was you who had been speaking the language earlier despite having a flawless American accent whenever you weren’t using Russian dialect. 

“So, маленькая полевая мышь, I hear one of my girls hit you with the bus?” you spoke softly, eyeing Beth like someone would a confused child, “Tell me… why should I let you stay, hmm? What can you offer us?” 

“I…” Beth paused, unsure how best to respond. She didn’t know what words would save her life and what words would end it, “I-I’m a fair shooter. I can hit a perfect bullseye four of five times-”

You chuckled, drawing her up short, “маленькая полевая мышь, I have four women who can hit a bullseye five times out of five shots. What need would I have of your skill when I already have others who are better at it?” 

“I’m a forager.” she tried again, “I know what plants around here are safest to eat, which ones can be used as medicine, and which ones can end a life-”

Again, you cut her off, “And I have a woman who has a master’s degree in medicine and herbology.” 

Damn it. 

“I…” Beth was defeated. Shooting and foraging were her only helpful skills and you were right. What need would you have of her if there were already those who could do it better? “Those are the only things I can offer you…”

“Poor маленькая полевая мышь,” you purred with a small smile on your lips. You seemed to be enjoying watching Beth as she began to panic, “If you have nothing to offer me, why should I let you stay, hmm?” 

“Please?!” she begged, ready to fall on her knees and plead at your feet, “I-I don’t need to stay forever. Just long enough to heal-Please-!”

“There is no need to beg, полевая мышь.” a low chuckle escaped your throat, sending a shiver down the back of Beth’s neck, “You are lucky Gwen seems to have taken a liking to you. If not for her, I would feed you to the crawlers… You may stay with us until you heal but, while you are here, you will conform to my rules. Break or refuse to follow one and I will cast you out with only the clothes on your back. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes… ma’am…” Beth mumbled, looking down at your feet.

“Good,” you purred again, your lips pulled up in a tight, almost fake smile, “Why don’t you come inside and take a seat while I go over the rules with you, hmm? I’m sure your legs must be killing you for standing for so long. When we’re done, I’ll give you a proper tour and introduce you to everyone.”

Beth nodded, her body visibly relaxing in relief as she followed you back inside. You sat down in the chair behind the desk, motioning for Beth to take one of the leather seats across from you. 

“So,” you started as Beth sat down, looking down at her hands resting in her lap, “let’s get to it…?”

“Beth,” she answered when she realized you were silently asking for her name.

“Beth. Welcome to our little pack. I am y/n, but you will refer to me as Alpha. Calling me by my name is a privilege that must be earned. Is that understood?” “Yes.”

“Good. Now, in order to keep everyone safe and keep our pack from falling apart, I have set a few rules in place. Failure to conform to these rules will result in your immediate removal from the pack. Get caught breaking a rule and you will be punished accordingly.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Beth muttered, her eyes still trained on her hands. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, милый,” you reprimanded, smirking when Beth’s gaze shot up to your face, “Good. Now, our rules. One; you will obey every command I give you without question or complaint. As the alpha, it is my job to ensure that the pack remains safe. You must trust that my actions and commands are made with this in mind. Two; you must return to camp by nightfall every night and are not permitted to leave again until sunrise. Crawlers are most active at night, that is when we need to be the least active. Three; never leave the camp alone. Always in groups of three or more. Four; if you are injured, whether by a crawler or something else, you must tell someone. You cannot expect us to treat you as if you are injured if we do not know that you are. Am I clear so far?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“хорошая девочка. Rule five; in order to ensure that we have enough water for drinking and cooking, each of us are only permitted to use the showers three times a week unless given verbal permission from me. Six; everyone must use the gym at least two times a week. We need to keep our strength up. Once you heal enough I will have you working with one of my girls to build your muscles back up. Seven; never keep helpful supplies hidden for yourself. We share everything of great value with the pack. Less important things like jewelry and perfumes and such are fine. We have no severe need for them.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Beth repeated again, showing that she was still listening.

“Number eight; don’t bring men into the camp. They cannot be trusted, nor will I pretend to tolerate them. Nine; do not ever turn off the safety feature on your weapon. It must always be ready should another group attempt to raid us or a horde of crawlers find its way through our defenses. This also means that you must be extremely careful. No one has accidentally shot someone yet, but we have had one too many close calls in recent months. And finally, ten-this rule will not apply to you without my explicit permission which you are highly unlikely to receive; do not touch another one of the girls in an intimate sense without verbal permission from both the woman and myself. As the alpha, it is my job to attend to the needs of my pack, whether that be physical, mental, sexual, or otherwise. The others know they are not to touch themselves or each other without my permission and the same goes for you.”

A mildly disgusted look overtook Beth’s face as the realization of your words sunk in. You were fucking all of them?!

“Don’t worry, полевая мышь,” you laughed, the sound harsh and rich, “I have no intentions of mating with you. You are not a permanent part of the pack, not like my girls.” 

“Is that how you became the alpha?” Beth asked before she could stop herself, “By fucking the rest of them into submission?” 

A dark shadow filled your eye as a bemused look crossed your face. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the desk as you eyed Beth, running your tongue against the inside of your bottom lip.

“I’ll give you one pass since you are new, but if you ever speak to me like that again I will gut you. Do you understand, полевая мышь?” you hissed, your smile widening when Beth nodded, “Yes, мышь, that is how I became the alpha. Before me, it was the principal of this school. Fuck the right people in the right ways and they’ll give up everything to you… But don’t let that fool you into thinking I only fuck them to keep my position, oh no, I fuck them because I truely love them, and will do whatever I can to make them forget about what goes on outside these walls, even if it’s just for a night.”

Beth nodded again, her mind still reeling as it tried to process everything you had just told her.

“So, now that you know our rules and how our pack operates, would you like to stay? If not, we’ll give you back your things and send you on our way.” 

She didn’t know what to say. Beth knew leaving now would inevitably result in her death, yet she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to stay here. You were incredibly fucked up in the head, that was for certain. However, you did genuinely seem to mean what you said about protecting your ‘pack’. As much as Beth didn’t like either option, she ultimately decided that a month or so with you was better than being eaten alive by crawlers in a night. 

“I’ll stay.” she muttered, “And I’ll do whatever I can to be of help while I’m here.”

“Good,” you cooed, clasping your hands together with another tight smile as you rose to your feet, “Come, let’s get you familiar with the camp and properly introduced to everyone, shall we?”

Beth nodded, pushing off of the chair, her legs shaking as she stood. You waited a moment, giving her legs a moment to adjust to carrying her weight again before you strode out of the room, walking slowly so that Beth could keep pace. 

“This is our command center,” you said, leading her inside one of the rooms she’d passed earlier, “In here we keep our main radio as well as our maps, supply lists, and other things of that sort. And this is Larissa.” 

The woman-Larissa looked up from the map she’d been studying and offered Beth a soft smile that had her weak in the knees. Like the others Beth had met, Larissa was tall. Taller than Gwen but not by much, with silvery-blonde hair done up in a complex updo half hidden in a silver headscarf, a shapely, feminine figure dressed in white pants and a silver blouse accentuated with a thick brown belt and brown ankle boots, skin like a porcelain dolls, and long-fingered hands tucked into white gloves. Her eyes were a brilliant, sapphire blue framed by thick mascara-coated lashes and her lips were soft-looking and full, stained a deep ruby red in color. 

She was prestigious and well put together, seeming almost out of place in the modern world. Too gentle, too clean, too pure. But something was off. There was a weary look on her heart-shaped face as she eyed Beth, as well as a sense of falseness to her smile. To Beth, it seemed as if the woman was afraid, But afraid of what? You? Beth? 

“Larissa, сладкий голубь, this is Beth,” you announced, smiling gently at Larissa, a comforting gleam in your eye, “She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“You’re letting her stay?” Larissa questioned, her voice velvety and melodic, yet there was something enigmatic about it…

“Only because I don’t want to hear Gwen’s pouting for months.” you teased, momentarily drawing a true smile from the woman before it turned false again.

“I suppose that’s as good a reason as any,” the blonde concured, eyeing Beth again before returning her focus to the map on the table as you strode back out of the room, beaconing Beth to follow. 

“You’ll have to excuse her demeanor. Larissa is not one to trust easily.” you said to Beth as the two of you descended down the stairs, “It will take her some time to warm up to you.”

Beth nodded, half-listening as you went on to tell her about what the school had been before the virus, following you into what at one point had been the school’s cafeteria. All of the tables but one were gone, leaving space for eight beds set in a circle in the middle of the room. There were hospital curtains on the sides and in front of each of the beds, allowing for some separation and privacy, though not very much. Also beside each bed was a small stand, on top of which lay an array of objects; hair brushes and hair ties, makeup products, jewelry, photographs, knives, gun magazines, notebooks, books, ect. Then at the foot of each bed was some kind of trunk Beth assumed was for storing larger possessions and clothing. 

There was a large, clearly handmade, circular stone fireplace in the center of the circle of beds, surrounded by an array of well-used, mismatched chairs. Very homey, Beth thought, a sudden wave of homesickness overtaking her. It had been so long since she’d seen anything that even remotely resembled a normal home. 

“This is our sleeping quarters and-for want of a better word-dining hall. We eat and sleep here as well as simply lounge around after curfew. I’ll have the twins help me bring down a cot for you later… My room is just past that door.” you pointed to a mahogany door on the far wall, not too far from the circle of beds but far enough to make it very clear you were separate from the others, “Should you need anything during the night or notice something off while you’re on watch, just knock. I’m a light sleeper.”

Beth nodded again. She wanted to make a comment about you sleeping separate from everyone else but that unnerving glint in your eye kept her at bay. You moved on, showing her the infirmary, makeshift gym, bathrooms and showers. 

“How do you have running water?” She inquired as the two of you made your way outside. Without humans to run things, places like power plants, dams and such had ceased working. Very few places still had electricity and water, none of which were anywhere near your camp. 

“We were able to create our own water system by connecting the plumbing to a river a ways up the mountain. By connecting it to a filtering system, we were able to obtain clean water for drinking and cooking.” you explained, “In order to do that we had to first shut off and drain the preexisting system, remove and close off several pipes from the upper floors, making it so that the plumbing would only run through the ground floor-not that we needed it for much else.” 

“And the electricity?”

“Solar power. We raided a solar power plant not far from here about a year and a half ago and figured out how to use the panels we’d taken to power everything here, including the bus one of my girls hit you with.” you said, stepping outside.

The area you’d taken her to was a courtyard at what appeared to be the center of the mansion. Most of it was made of the same stone as the inside, the other part of a thick wrought iron fence, both of which were decorated with beautiful scrollwork designs. Intricate arches lead off to other parts of the school, while thin cobblestone paths weaved through the grass, which was luscious and oh so green compared to the rest of the world. Several tarps had been stitched together and hung over the entire courtyard, protecting it from the rain and sun. Stone benches lined the courtyard’s edge, there were several tables littered with supplies off to one side, as well as a makeshift shooting range, and a large sparring mat staked to the ground with tent spikes, where two more women were currently occupied. 

The women on the mat were both broad and muscular, though the one facing away from the two of you had a much more haunty feel to her figure. Her short, snowy-white hair was slick with sweat and brushed against the nape of her neck. 

“Phasma, lower your hands!” you shouted, causing Beth to jump, “You’re leaving your ribs exposed! Brienne, widen your stance! If she pushes you, you’re done for!”

The two paused, unfolding from their fighting stances and turning to you, Beth unable to keep her jaw from dropping when she caught sight of-who she assumed was Phasma-'s face. The woman was tall, standing about two inches shorter than you, and had a square face and prominent jaw with a clearly broken nose. A single icy blue eye glared at Beth coldly, the left side of her face marred by a burn scar accentuated with a pearly white eye; clearly the injury had left her blind. Intimidated by her gaze, Beth dropped her eyes to the rest of Phasma’s body. A ripped gray shirt clung to her broad chest and shoulders like a second skin, green cargo pants covered her legs, showing off the muscles there when she flexed them just right. When she shifted her stance a light clinking filled the air, drawing Beth’s attention to the chain of military tags around her neck. 

“Come on ladies, you would think I wouldn’t need to tell you these sorts of things with your track records.” you scolded lightly as they approached you.

“Sorry, Alpha,” they muttered in unison, giving Beth a chance to look at the other one while their attention was trained on you.

The other woman was just as tall as Phasma, with the same square face and chiseled jaw, though her hair reached her shoulders and was the color of straw rather than snow. She had the same small, blue, almond-shaped eyes but hers were darker, more like the ocean, as well as the same porcelain skin. There was a large scar on her cheek; it looked rather like a human-made bite mark. It must have been something she sustained before the virus or she would not have been amongst the “living” now. The woman wore a dark blue tank top that showed off her pale, freckled shoulders tucked into brown cargo pants belted with a thick black belt around her broad hips. Both women were barefoot with linen strips wrapped around their hands, raw pink flesh peeking from beneath the strips. 

“You’ve already met Phasma… in a sense,” you said to Beth, drawing her from her thoughts as you pointed to the one-eyed woman-Phasma, “This is her twin sister, Brienne. Ladies, this is Beth. She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

It was easy to note the similarities between the two sisters. As well as being similar in appearance the two women had the same posture and ora, and the exact same look on their faces as they eyed Beth like she was merely a piece of meat.

“You’re letting the rat stay?” Phasma practically growled, her voice deep and cold, mildly monotone with a clipped English accent and a slightly rough edge-the bus driver! Realizing Phasma was the one who’d hit her with the bus, Beth narrowed her eyes at the woman, shifting her stance ever so slightly in an attempt to appear stronger and more confident, though the bandages and sling did little to assist her, “Why?”

“Because, Phasma, I don’t think you want to hear Gwen whining for the next few months because we didn’t help her little field mouse any more than I do.” you answered, your voice firm and assertive, causing the frightful-looking blonde to go silent. 

“Alpha,” the other sister-Brienne, stepped forward slightly. Her voice was gravelly and had a natural stentorian and authoritative feel to it, but when she spoke to you it was in the most submissive and respectful way, “our resources are spread thin as it is. Taking on another member… it is not something we can afford…”

“I understand your concerns, Brienne. Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind, but we will make it work.” you assured, “You both know I would never do anything without fully thinking it through-”

“If you had, the runt’s corpse would be halfway up the mountain by now.” Phasma muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, her sister going white beside her as you flushed scarlet.

“Phasma, то есть достаточно!” you roared, raising your hand as if to strike her before lowering it again with a deep breath, “As of now, Beth is a part of our pack. You will treat her with the same respect as the others… And if you ever speak to me like that again, you will be sleeping outside the walls. Is that understood?” The woman merely shrugged, cracking her knuckles as she shifted her gaze to Beth, the one blue eye narrowed dangerously. You sighed, clearly annoyed with the woman’s behavior. 

“Finish your match,” you told them, “Once you’re done go ahead and begin evening procedures. I suspect Jane will have supper ready here soon.”

Phasma shrugged again, her gaze never leaving Beth, causing sweat to form at the base of her neck. Brienne put a hand on her sister’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear that caused Phasma to scoff, roughly shoving her sister away and turning and walking back onto the mat. Brienne shot you an apologetic look, nodding at you before following after her twin, ignoring Beth entirely.

“Ignore them,” you said to Beth, turning away from the sisters, “The twins have always been wound rather tightly, especially Phasma. Give them their space and they’ll give you yours. Just, whatever you do, try not to piss them off… If you couldn’t tell, they’re not afraid to break a couple of bones.” 

“What happened to them?” you looked down at her, your head slightly tilted in question, “The scars…?”

“Those are stories for another time,” you said dismissively, moving towards the cluster of picnic tables where two figures were conversing on one of the benches along the edge of the yard, “Lyme, познакомься с нашим гостем!” you called as you and Beth approached the two.

The woman you’d addressed-Lyme stood up from her spot on one of the stone benches as you and Beth approached, Beth unable to keep from ogling at the goddess before her. The woman towerd over Beth, standing just shorter than the twins with a muscular and powerful, yet curvy build that suggested years of some kind of combative experience and flawless, ivory skin. Her face was strong and angular, free of makeup with chiseled features that conveyed determination and resilience, and eyes like pools of silver that had Beth struggling to breathe. Her dirty blonde hair was cut in a short, stylish pixie cut that kept it out of her face at all times. There was an air of confidence and authority to her, exuding a sense of quiet power and strength. She was dressed in a dingy white tank top that hugged every curve, dark acid wash jeans, a bloodstained jean jacket, a long silver chain hanging around her neck, and gray boots. There was a large AK-47 slung across her back and two knives sheathed at her hips. 

The woman beside Lyme was a few inches shorter than her companion with that same authoritative presence and long, silky brown hair tied back in a low ponytail. She had flawless, sun-kissed skin, a strong, lean and almost cat-like figure and a soft round face void of makeup and splattered with the lightest freckles Beth had ever seen, accentuated with small, dusty blue eyes. There were several small tattoos on her fingers and more poking out from beneath the sleeves of her brown shirt which she’d paired with military-style pants and brown boots, accessorized with a western-style leather holster that housed a silver Glock 17. Her jaw was clenched tightly, and her eyes were narrowed as she eyed Beth up and down, stopping both ways when her eyes reached the sling around Beth’s arm, seeming to size her up. Clearly, she was as keen on having an injured stranger in their midst as Phasma and Brienne were.  

“Beth, this is Lyme and Lady-” you introduced, gesturing to each woman as you said their name. 

“Lady?” Beth asked, releasing a breathy laugh at the odd name which she instantly regretted when the brunette gave her a dangerous look that would have had Beth six feet under if looks were able to kill.  

“Her real name is Jane, but we call her Lady to keep from confusing her with our other Jane.” you explained, stepping slightly in front of Beth as Lady’s hand twitched towards her Glock, “Lady, оставь пистолет в покое.”  

The brunette grumbled, folding her arms across her chest as you gently steered Beth away from the two women.  

“I’d watch your back around her,” you warned, “She’s the wild card around here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to use you as target practice... At least for the first week or so.” 

“Don’t think she’s the only one.” Beth mumbled, eyeing the twins sparring on the mat with a worried glint in her eye. 

“Phasma and Brienne may want to put a bullet in your head, but they’d do it with good intentions-at least, Brienne would… You must understand, we haven’t had a new member in over a year and, well... it didn’t end well.” 

“What happened?”  

“...She died...” you answered, your voice soft, “We were all close with her, and her death shook us quite a bit. In truth, I think the others don’t want you here because they’re afraid of having that attachment again.” 

You went silent for a few moments after that, leading Beth away. She longed to press, to learn what had happened, but it was clearly a touchy subject and she dreaded what would happen if she pushed too far. If she was being entirely honest with herself, Beth was afraid of you. Everything she’d heard, everything she’d seen gave her the impression that, though some of the others in your ‘pack’ were scary, you were the only one who she needed to be terrified of. Your authoritative demeanor, your commanding presence, the unnerving glint in your eye, the harsh edge to your voice all pointed to one simple fact; you were dangerous. In what way exactly, Beth did not know, but she was in no hurry to find out. 

You lead her back inside to a new area of the first floor and into a room piled high with boxes of supplies and racks of clothing categorized by the item and sizes. She followed you through the maze of racks to the back of the room to where a figure was sitting, pointing as you spoke. 

“Jan is who you will go to tomorrow to get fitted for proper clothing. Not only does she have the best sense of fashion, but whatever we don’t have, she can make. She’s quite handy with a needle and some thread.”

The woman you pointed to was like an angel in mortal form with a lean, angular body and pure white skin. A halo of platinum blonde hair fell to the base of her neck in waves framing a sharp, heart-shaped face with blood-red lips and dark eyeshadow with thick black eyeliner that accentuated cerulean blue eyes. Her black, five-inch platform boots seemed a little out of place given the world’s current predicament, but looked quite good with the flared red pants and ruffled white blouse. There was a box of clothing at her feet and a pincushion and several spools of thread on the desk beside her while she methodically stitched away at a shirt laying in her lap. 

“Jan, мой павлин,” you practically cooed, drawing the angel’s attention away from her work, “Why don’t you put the mending away for a while and come meet our guest?”

Jan nodded, gently placing her work on the desk as she stood, her eyes flicking over Beth. Unlike the others, her gaze wasn’t disapproving or judgmental, but rather curious and intrigued. She walked closer, flicking her eyes between you and Beth as she drew near. Even with those boots on she was still an inch or so shorter than you, and as she came to a stop in front of Beth a sweet mixture of warm vanilla and cherry scents filled Beth’s nose.

“I’m Beth.” she offered, holding out her hand to the beauty standing before her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Jan murmured, taking Beth’s hand in a dainty handshake. Her voice was like a breath of wind, angelic, crisp, and oh so silky. It would have been all too easy for Beth to get lost in its sweet spell. The woman’s skin was like satin against Beth’s coarse hands, deep ruby nails standing out against the pale flesh. 

Beth went to say something, what exactly she was not sure, but the loud, deep ring of a bell cut her off. She released Jan’s hand, looking to you for an explanation as to what the bell was for. 

“That’ll be the dinner bell,” you said to Beth, though your eyes were trained on Jan. To Beth, it seemed that you favored the platinum angel over the rest of your packmates, “Best we head to the dinning hall before Jane or Larissa have our heads for being late.” 

Jan nodded, turning off the lamp beside the desk she’d been using before taking hold of your arm as you led her and Beth back out of the room. The three of you joined the others in the dining hall where you did a quick check to make sure everyone was accounted for, scowling when you noticed one member was missing.

“Where’s Phasma?” you half growled to Brienne, your eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“She went to put the bus away,” Brienne shrugged, “Best bet is she’s still in the garage.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple before muttering, “You lot go ahead and get started. I’ll run out and grab her.” 

You left without another word, leaving Beth alone with the remaining seven members of your pack. She stood back, staying out of the way while the others lined up to get food much like you would in a school cafetorium-which they were currently in-unable to keep her eyes from glancing over the strong, shapely figures standing about ten feet from her. As much as she wished to deny it, Beth could see why you would find it hard to choose only one of the women here; she was caught in the claws of these beauties… and no force on Earth would save her if she woke the beast…

A/n: This is the first fanfic I've written that was over 1,000 words so I apologize if it drags a little at times. Pt.2 should be released in a few weeks. Hope you enjoyed!! :)

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

The Grumbo Apocalypse / Monster Horror AU

Massive thank you and credit to @angeart for helping me out with this AU of mine, coming up with new ideas, listening to my insane rambles, writing cool stuff, and making some brilliant concept art!

(and helping with this post too!)

CW/TW for this au: apocalyptic scenario, discussions of death / existential dread / being replaced / horror themes, body horror, issues of identity and self-image

SO the 'grumbo apocalypse / monster horror' AU is sort of what it says on the tin? Mumbo is just a regular guy with a coding job who wakes up one day to a nice bright apocalypse outside.

The sky turns white, the sun turns black, shadows become death traps, wormhole open up in the middle of the road... you get the picture. At first, everything is reported on by local news stations- it all seems rather mundane despite the horror of it all. People are hunted down by various monsters in the streets, and you can hear all about it on the ten 'o clock news.

Still, eventually, humanity seems to flicker out. No more electricity. No more news. Mumbo goes to his living room window and Something looks back at him. So he does what any self-respecting person would do, and cowers under the windowsill waiting to die.

The monster that breaks into his house through the glass is something the media called an 'outsider'. Its form shifts, changing fluidly with horrible wet sounds. It has scales and feathers which move across its pale skin like insects. Two- five- three- two eyes. A mouth, filled with rows of teeth and black bile, opens up from nothing on its face. It stares at Mumbo. Mumbo thinks he's going to die.

Then the monster speaks to him. It says 'hello' in a disjointed, stuttering voice. Mumbo doesn't die. The monster tries to look more human. It's name is Grian, apparently.

Grian is part of a species which existed long before the apocalypse. A monster which lived on the outskirts of towns and cities, usually just keeping to themselves. Like pests, they would sometimes wander into isolated houses, and find themselves nesting there.

Outsiders- we will call them that for now- can change form easily. Naturally. They also mimic sounds. Voices. Screams of the dead. And they are designed to blend in. To slip into a home, kill a human, take their voice, become them. If they feel threatened enough.

The apocalypse made them angrier, more feral. Hunting, eating, killing humans just seemed natural, despite their generally passive past.

Mumbo survives because he freezes. Naturally, he's the type to panic and stop moving entirely. He freezes and hides and waits. Outsiders are built to chase a moving target. They don't tend to attack an unmoving figure.

Grian settles, and Mumbo becomes his new friend. Like that, because Mumbo is still reeling from not being slashed to death or eaten, Grian simply stays. Or, Mumbo stays.

Grian is very protective of Mumbo. They leave the city, Grian using his teeth and claws to kill any threats. Into the forest, they find Grian's nest- where his flock is (though Mumbo can never quite be sure if they are there, hidden in the shadows) and they survive.

It is nice, for a while.

Grian only sometimes talks in an original voice. He can speak his own language (chirps, whistles, gurgles, clicks) just fine, but he is only made to mimic human language. The most basic words- though he's learning. He can use the voices of the dead (and has a funny habit of replicating their dying screams).

(Mumbo tries not to hear familiar screams in Grian's voice)

(If he has nightmares about it, and panics when he wakes up wrapped in Grian's arms, the arms of a killing machine, he doesn't mention it)

But, also, the apocalypse, and living in the forest, and cuddling with a being designed to kill and replace you, is scary. Mumbo wants to go home. He wants to stay. The sky is white. His mind can't quite take it.

And when another monster tries to attack him, he runs. Grian kills the monster fast. He sees Mumbo running. Instinct triggers. He pounces.

Mumbo tries to forgive Grian for the scratches. (They aren't scratches. Mumbo calls them scratches. They run deep). He still flinches for the next week whenever Grian gets close. They both know it couldn't have been helped- their instincts are incompatible. Human and monster. Made enemies by the end of the world.

Grian tries to make himself more human. Two eyes, two arms, two legs, no tail, less feathers, smoother skin, a normal face, a normal voice. It hurts to hold that form. It hurts to look at his true form, knowing it scares Mumbo. It's worth the pain to pretend they are a normal pair.

Neither of them talk. Neither of them try. Soon, one of them will break, and the other will come crumbling down after... but that's a story for another day.

(psst. ask me questions about this AU I get insane about it always) (also scar, cub, pearl, joe hills and cleo have very minor roles you should ask about them too)

[dlthedescent]

DL: Descent Short Stories: Lullaby

This is one of several short prompts I had written within the Descent world but didn't put in the fics cuz they're short. I didn't think much about sharing them before because most are random stuff. But this is one of my strongest so here you go. Also, I dunno if this is required but tw for child death? Even though it's a Screamer? Regardless the theme here is a bit heavy.

For some reason, a district of Scanderoon stirred.

It was nosier than usual. The child whimpered, mixing crying with laughing. He couldn't understand why today, the others were making so much noise.

Was it food? Noise meant the big ones had found a prey. He was hungry but he would have to wait until much later, when the food had lost its freshness.

Then came the horrid screams.

And that stopped the child from wailing. He hunched up like a little scared animal and listened carefully. He was small - he couldn't fight even if he could.

There was noise. Something was happened. Something actually frightened the bigger ones. He heard a hiss - a show of dominance - followed by a painful yelp and a thud.

Run! Run from the outcast! the infected communicated to each other.

Outcast?

He thought it was the really, REALLY furious ones. But they came out at night-

Behind him, light suddenly beamed in as the beaded curtains were pulled back.

No. Something came to him!

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the Screamer burst. Warning the danger to leave him alone. Warning the big ones to come help.

"Arrgh!" whatever was behind him hollered in a hoarse voice, covering its ears. But instead of backing away and fleeing like the other dangers had done approaching the child, this one kept going. "Stupid ears!"

The child turned and saw it. The outcast.

It was even bigger than the scary ones at night. Menacing-looking and something was all wrong about the outcast. It didn't smell like the others, it acted weird!

Those silver-blue eyes frightened him.

The Screamer screamed even louder, as loud as his tiny lungs could make.

At first, it seemed like the outcast was giving up. Leave him alone.

Then it suddenly lunged after the infected child.

In panic, the child stopped screaming and quickly ducked under a boarded doorway.

"Dammit!" Crack! Thud! The boards were bashed down but the child ran out of the house and down a covered walkway.

Run! Run like the others told him to! He had been told to run even before. Something was always going to catch him and kill him.

Because that something had once killed someone. It wasn't another Screamer like him but he faintly recalled something like that - a figure in red being eaten up.

And now it was his turn. Something big was coming to eat him up as well!

He had to find another hiding place. Somewhere dark.

Somewhere safe.

"Hm-hm hm hmm-hm-hm

Hm-hm-hm hm-hm hm-hmm."

It was soft.

But also familiar.

"Hm-hm hm-hm hm hm-hmm.

Hm hm hm-hm hm hm?"

The Screamer scrambled to a clumsy but slow halt. A sudden, long-forgotten feeling of sadness overcame the fear and in its daze, it was drawn to the humming from inside a building.

Someone used to sing that to the child long ago. Someone they couldn't remember other than the hazy flashes.

"Hm. Hm-hm-hm-hm, hm hm-hm hm-hm hm hm."

A shape came into view the closer he got to the humming. Human-shaped. Prey but dangerous too.

He needed the bigger infected to come take the prey down and once they've have their meal, he could scavenge for the scraps.

But he didn't scream this time.

The prey was adorned in red.

Someone had worn red before in those flashes.

That someone was crying for some reason in the little fragments inside the child's empty head. She was also holding him - both of them terrified.

But she kept on singing the same tone his prey sang. The stranger from his memory sang him a lullaby to make all the worries go away.

For the first time, in the longest time, his eyes watered. And suddenly, for a split second, he remembered.

Mummy!

He wailed. Bursting out but his throat was all so sore from the screaming. He just wanted to cry.

All these feelings felt alien to him and yet, he realized he had felt them before. He couldn't make sense of everything but there was one thing made clear.

He was scared. He was being chased. He was alone. But now she was back!

Mummy! He wished she could hear him! He ran up to the prey in red with open arms.

And all his pleads were answered. The human stretched out her arms to him.

He embraced her and felt her hands wrap around his bald, boil-covered head.

His mother, who wore a blood-soaked, locally-designed dress. He was a little boy with his mother, hiding from monsters outside their home.

Finally! Finally, he wasn't alone.

Why did he forget her? What happened to them?

It didn't matter anymore. He was reunited with his missing mother.

But he still hadn't had a bite to eat!

And his mother still smelled like prey.

Mummy! Please! I'm hungr-!

SNAP!

It was a loud pop that resounded throughout the infected's body. Suddenly, he couldn't breath. He couldn't move - his arms and legs dropped.

He couldn't sink his teeth on meat. Blackness flashed in his vision as he tried to look up. But he couldn't.

Mummy. I'm scared.

He remembered saying that to the human. And that human hugged him so tightly. After that, it was a blur.

His prey still continued to hum. She held him tightly, rocking back and forth.

The fear disappeared.

"It's ok. Mummy is here," he remembered his mother's weeping. Her lullaby.

"Mother takes care of her child. Mother takes care of their home. Mother works day and night. Mother prepares for the next day."

Yeah.

He was safe with Mummy now.

And she would be with him the next day.

Gradually, his undead heart finally stopped. A gloved hand reached over his dry eyes and closed them shut. The prey laid him down, arms crossed and finally, the poor infected boy was at peace. The 'outcast' joined, standing not too far from the prey.

"Good night, hon," the brunette in the red jacket - his reaper - whispered.

[yanderestarangel]

☆Yandere!Edward Richtofen ☆

a/n: just using some posts from my old blog ( I ​​excluded it because I wanted to focus more on the things I liked and not stick to just one topic ) Anyway, enjoy.

Tw: male reader and gn, other than "you" no other names used, death, blood, manipulation, harassment, dark themes, non con.

This man met you when you unexpectedly fell into an intradimensional portal connecting realities.

You fell at his feet

Like a fallen, lost angel who needed to be held at any cost and when I say any cost, I mean literally anything.

Young Richtofen tries to hide his sadistic side from you, he will always give you a friendly and reassuring smile, but deep down he wants to see you in your most intimate and fragile state. If you are an independent person who likes to do everything alone, forget it my angel, Richtofen will simply cut your independence completely, whether you like it or not.

He will remind you of how he saved you when you were so lost in his world, the desperation in his eyes as he saw a horde of zombies chasing you, you literally begging a stranger to save you from death, how grateful you are it must be because he did it. the one who found you and none of your mates who would leave you there without a second thought.

He would use anything to see you grateful and fearing in a way. Edward hates this feeling that fills his chest and warms him.

The man hasn't had much human contact in his 30 years of life, the university was empty and cruel to poor Edward and the gods have sent you, their saving angel.

He trembled just listening to you talk, seeing you every day seemed like a difficult task, Richtofen controlled himself more and more not to grab you in the middle of everyone and claim you as his. But you haven't realized it yet. For you, richtofen was just a crazy doctor who had created the zombie apocalypse you were in now while still worrying about returning to your reality, you were afraid, like how much time had passed there, if your world would corrupt like that of Richtofen someday. To you, the innocent Y/N Edward was a friend or acquaintance you were uncomfortable with, but kept as a means of survival and gratitude, after all he set you up and saved you from being eaten alive by the undead. But in the rotten mind of the doctor. You were his. Only his.

Richtofen knew how to get him home, it was simple, easy and fast. But he never told you. Never. Every time you met him, the same thing was repeated.

You would enter his lab in an abandoned building a few meters away where you and the rest of your team slept, he would smile at you asking you to come closer.

You would ask the man again who would pull you into his lap and ask for a kiss in exchange for the information. "-My love..." Richtofen started with you in his lap passing his nose over your neck and hair, you felt uncomfortable with the man's big hands on your thighs going up and up, you could feel the man's breath on your skin . "-I have the name Richtofen, please don't call me that." -you said as you took his hands away and stared at him, the man smiled and lowered his tone looking at the notebook in front of him. "-Nothing so far, I'll see if I can do something else and send you home soon... But nothing my prince." - said the man while blatantly lying to you, he knew how to get you. But he wouldn't. You left the frustrated man's legs and went to his dorm again hearing Richtofen say something but you didn't even turn around to see him.

How long has he been saying the same thing? 2 weeks? 2 months? 2 years? You didn't even know what time it was anymore. In addition to Richtofen, no one in the group was interested in talking to you, which made him frustrated for having only the doctor as a support to not go crazy in this distorted world.

Edward was working on other things, the main one being how to kill more zombies so the two of you could live a little better in that horrible reality. He even thought of opening a portal and running away with you to another place, but that would be too risky and he hated risk. Then you and he would stay in that world forever, but the man saw that you were getting more and more impatient and that worried him leading him to a drastic and horrible measure, kill all his team members and succumb to total madness only you are he .

He waited for you to sleep that night and quickly took care of killing all your team members, Richtofen felt nothing. The warmth of someone else's blood just made him feel empty without any regrets.

He quickly disposed of the bodies giving zombies outside the safe walls of the city, you were quickly returning and showering cleaning the blood and gunshot marks on the gray building. You woke up with a weight on the side of the mattress and quickly turned around to see Edward smiling at you, bidding you a warm good morning.

After that you went downstairs seeing the silence of the dorm and asking the man where all the other members were.

And that's when the theater began.

Richtofen lied playing the victim saying that the men had found the portal to his reality, you smiled happily but everything fell apart when the brunette said that they had entered and placed a timed detonator so no one could find them, it seemed like a false lie and it was really, but the air there and the current loneliness made you hyperventilate with all that belief in your doctor “friend”.

You cried while Richthofen mentally repeated an apology, he blamed himself deep down for all of this, but there was no going back.