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#my poor attempt at writing

sunsets-over-the-zones · 7 months

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Yo Se, Yo Se, El Amor Ya No Es

No se si es la envidia que te tengo, O si es tu pelo rizado, Es tu forma de habla, O tu manera de vestir. Siento que el aire me falta, Cuando al lado mio estas.

Se mejor que amarte, Pero en cada lado que yo esté Quiero buscarte.

Y tú no me quieres como lo merezco. No me entendieras. Porque yo solo soy un niño, Enamorado del niño al lado mío. Y en tus ojos, yo se que no soy eso. Solo soy la niña que no habla con nadie, Solo pasa escuchando música, y alejada.

Somos de dos mundos diferentes. Y yo sé mejor que amarte, Pero cada canción te la dedicaré. Porque en cada lado que yo esté, En mi mente, estás tú también.

Y cada dia es mas dificil Viéndote en la clase, Tu cara, tan linda y perfecta Siempre me distrae. Quisiera ser perfecto para ti. Si pudiera, sería una niña para ti. Me pusiera el disfraz solo para poder ser el que tu amas.

Y! Yo sé mejor que amarte, Pero en cada lado que yo esté, Quiero buscarte! Pero en cada lado que yo esté, En mi mente, estás tú también.

#solar rise #danger days oc #my poor attempt at writing #song writing #lyric writing #musica nueva

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cannibalgoldfish · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Other(s), Hannibal Lecter/Other(s), Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter/Other(s) Characters: OC - Character, Original Characters, Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character(s) of Color, Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Jack Crawford, Alana Bloom, Beverly Katz, Brian Zeller, Jimmy Price, Freddie Lounds, Franklyn Froideveaux, The Stag (Hannibal) Additional Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, stop reading the tags, Spoilers, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, slight dark fic, LGBTQ Themes, LGBTQ Character, LGBT characters, Polyamory, Maybe polyamory, we'll see, Slow Burn, Drama, Mental Disintegration, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Eventual Fluff, Psychological Trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Torture, Thriller, Found Family Summary:

Victor gets thrown into the ever growing chaos that is the entangled lives of Will Graham and Hannibal Lector.

Comments and critiques are always welcome :)

also feel free to recommend any other Hannibal fics you like and/or have written

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jell-o101 · 2 months

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I can kind of understand why Toad was confused as to Luigi's identity, because he was literally shocked and startled and slightly confused. But Peach? She thinks Mario is dead, Luigi's voice doesn't sound like Mario's at all, they're wearing different clothes and they aren't even identical twins.

“Through wet eyes and a sorrow filled mind, Peach turns around to see who walked through the door. Toad’s voice she recognizes, but despite the clear difference in the other voice, her fuzzy mind immediately stared onto the familiar face and immediately assumes Mario had come back. That he had somehow survived the blast of the blue shell and has come to rescue her. But the structure of his face had minor differences. Heck, the clothes were a different colour. Yet in the midst of the chaos, she knew it wasn’t him, but proceeded to call out Mario’s name in case her eyes deceived her. And as she locked eyes with the friendly intruder, she realizes that her eyes were in fact correct, that this was not Mario, but clearly his other half. His brother, Luigi. And even though he is here, out of the dangers of the cage and in the supposed safety of her presence, she still sheds tears, as he must not be aware of the fate Mario has encountered, unbeknownst to her that he does, in fact, know.”

#enjoy my poor attempt at trying to seem like I know how to write #if there are any grammatical errors #please let me know #for there is a reason I prefer to draw instead of writing #sometimes certain things are best explained when written #there is only so much I can do in the fake screenshot style

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jadewritesficshere · 9 months

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Insecurity 18+only

Steve Harrington x female!reader

shoutout to all my girlies who are self conscious about their chests.

Synopsis: You feel insecure about your boobs, but Steve shows you there is nothing to be insecure about 18+ ONLY

Contents: negative body image (descriptive about insecurities, self depreciating thoughts), pet names (Honey, Beautiful), groping, unprotected p in v (YALL PLEASE WRAP IT UP), creampie

The gnawing despair and shame that had started earlier in the night had continued to grow, becoming like lead in your stomach. It was movie night at the Harrington residence. As was the tradition after saving the world once or twice, the young adults would get together and watch a movie, eat pizza, and smoke if you felt so inclined.

Tonight was Eddie's pick, some B horror movie. You hadn't really paid attention, more focused on watching Nancy and Steve talking. The despondent feeling had started then, even if you knew they no longer had feelings for each other, you felt insecure. You felt as though you couldn't compare to Nancy. You loved Nancy, she was amazing. Hell, you weren't sure if you wanted to be her or be with her.

But you definitely knew you liked Steve. You hadn't even told Steve of your feelings for him, having your heart ripped out as you watched him go out on many dates, and feeling like an asshole for being glad they didn't end well.

The feeling grew as the movie started. Robin and Eddie, taking their roles as film critics seriously, talked about the techniques being used and made comments throughout. Nancy told them to hush many times, but they ignored her. It wasn't until one of the female characters had her shirt ripped open, causing her bare chest to be on display, that caused silence to occur. Her breasts were bigger than yours and perfectly even and round. Nipples that were hardened and like a beacon your eyes drifted to. Her breasts swayed in an almost hypnotizing way as she ran. You would have been the first to admit they were attractive.

"Damn," one of the guys had muttered, causing you to look over. Eddie's eyes were glued to the TV and for once he was silent.. Robin was blushing and her mouth was dropped open. Steve shifted on the couch, his hand going to adjust- oh.

Your stomach dropped and you felt like your veins had turned to ice. Of course this is what Steve would like. You didn't have a bad chest persay, but you were always self conscious of it. In fact, yours were uneven. Sure, they weren't an entire cup size different, but one cup of your bra would fit perfectly while the other was just slightly too big or too small depending on the bra. You knew that you were probably making a bigger issue out of things, but you couldn't help your insecurity. You noticed the difference every time you looked in the mirror, even if no one else did.

You hardly even noticed the movie ending. You couldn't even remember the plot. You nodded at the discussion Eddie had started, trying to make it seem like you had paid attention. You could feel Steve's eyes on you. "Are you okay?" Steve mouthed from across the couch. You smiled and nodded, but the look of concern didn't leave his face. Of course the one guy you wanted to seem normal to could tell something was off.

Slowly, everyone gathered their things to leave. Robin and Nancy left together while you were searching for your keys. Eddie had went to the restroom then left, saying something about a deal. You still couldn't find your keys. You always left them on the table in the hall, but they were nowhere to be found. This was just making your night worse. The icing on the cake. Like when you are already mad and your belt loop gets caught on the door handle. You grumble to yourself, when you hear Steve clear his throat.

You turn to glance at him. Steve had your keys in his hand. He jingled them before tossing them at you. You fumble with the catch, but don't drop them. Why the hell would Steve steal your keys?

Steve stood at the end of the hall in front of the front door. He had his arms crossed over his chest. "What's going on?" Steve demanded. You rolled your eyes at his tone, earning a glare," Seriously? You're acting strange, what happened?" "Nothing. Thanks for stealing my keys asshole." "It's called borrowing, you got them back." You attempt to slide by Steve but he blocks you. Almost like a game, you try to slide past and he blocks you.

You fake to the left, making Steve attempt to block you there, but slide past him on the right. You grasp the door handle but-

The handle slips from your grasp as Steve spins you around and pins you to the door. His arms blocking you on either side, holding onto your biceps. You drop your keys on the floor from surprise. A moment of silence between you two as you both realize the position you're in.

"What's going on? Did...did I do something?" Steve frowns at you. Your stomach drops at the look of disappointment on his face," No! Steve just...no." "You can't even look at me without frowning." His words make you realize you are indeed frowning. You must have been frowning at him all night. You attempt to smile, but the attempt is pitiful and Steve sighs," I'm sorry...I dont know what I did, but I am." "Steve you didn't do-" "No, no. Let me finish. I'm sorry that-" "Steve-" "-i never meant to make you uncomfortable, if you tell me what it is I can avoid doing it again-" "Steve I-" "- let me speak! I'm sorry i-"

"It's my boobs!" Your voice is loud, not yelling, but loud enough that there was no way Steve could ignore it. You bite your bottom lip and his mouth drops open slightly. He closes his mouth and swallows, your eyes flicking to his Adam's apple moving. You don't miss how his eyes snap down to your chest that was covered by your shirt.

"Uh I'm sorry?" Steve blinked a few times before looking into your eyes," I think I'm missing something?" Nerves wrack your stomach, embarrassed at the feelings of insecurity you had. You fidget under his gaze," Well I mean...the movie...she...mine don't look..."

Steve's eyes widen slightly with realization. "Oh Honey...there's nothing to be self-conscious about." You scoff at his words making him glare. "Seriously, all boobs are beautiful. Big, small, perky or not, I could go on. Even, uneven, doesn't matter to me.. Boobs are boobs. And they all are beautiful." "Not mine." Steve rolls his eyes," Yes yours." "Nuh-uh" "Yuh-huh!" You and Steve bicker back and forth before the thought fuck it runs through your mind.

You grab the hem of your sweater, yanking it up. You're glad now that you had worn the severely baggy sweater without a bra. Your breasts jiggle slightly with movement, Steve's eyes immediately darting to them.

He licks his lips as he stares at your chest. Your chest rising and falling with every breath you take. His gaze heavy, making you aware of what you just did. You go to lower your sweater and his hands dart out to hold yours up," Now hold on..."

He smirks at you and lowers one hand down to your left boob. He palms at it, making you realize how big his hand really is. He squeezes lightly before lifting your breast and letting go, watching your breast fall and jiggle. He groans and the sound goes straight between your legs. His other hand darts to your other breast. You can tell there is a difference in size against his hands, but Steve doesn't seem to care.

Your nipples start to harden from arousal and the cool air. Steve's eyes focused on the peaks as his thumbs rub over each one. A shudder runs through you and goosebumps run down your arms from Steve's feather light touch. Steve's eyes are lit up with barely contained lust.

"Don't know why you were concerned about these...They're perfect." Steve mumbles, dipping his head close to your chest before looking up at you. The unspoken question has you nodding your consent. Steve grins slightly before slowly kissing your chest. A kiss here and there. A slight bite. Licking and swirling his tongue. He sucks lightly on one nipple, sending shivers down your spine.

You can feel your arousal start to dampen your panties. A light moan escapes your mouth before you bite your lip to hold it back. Steve groans at the sound before pulling back. "Fuck babe..." Steve exhales slowly. He closes his eyes trying to get a grip on himself. You aren't sure if you should lower your top or take it off. Steve shifts and your eyes dart down and-

Oh. A thrill of pride runs through you at seeing Steve's erection. Knowing you gave him that? Knowing you got him worked up just from the part of you that you are the most insecure of? It may not take away that insecurity fully, but it does help to lessen it in this moment. You lick your lips at the sight. Damn, it was big.

Steve's hands slowly grasp yours and lower your sweater. "We uh better put those away. Or I'm gonna have a hard time controlling myself." Steve clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. You nod absent-mindedly. You pause and then say," Who says you have to control yourself?"

Steve growls and crowds you against the door. Your arms go over his shoulders, a hand in his hair and one on his neck. Your noses knock together slightly before his lips collide against yours. Soft but passionate. Your chest rubs against his as he pushes a leg between yours. The friction hits your pelvis as you both grind against each other.

You can feel the roughness of his jeans through the fabric of your pants, it hitting just right to feel amazing against your clit. You pull back with a gasp, Steve taking the opportunity to kiss down your jaw. You aren't sure if he maneuvers your head, or if you turn it to give him better access. You can feel a hint of pain as he nips his teeth, that turns into pleasure as he sucks and licks the spot. He trails down from your jaw to your neck, to the spot that makes your fingers and thighs clench. You know your underwear must be soaked at this point.

"Steve," you tap his neck to get his attention and he pulls back to look at you," Bedroom?" Steve's eyes light up and a blinding grin spreads across his face. He lets go of you and takes a step back. Steve grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers. His hand bigger then yours, but feeling like a puzzle piece sliding into place. Butterflies in your stomach taking flight as it felt so right.

Steve leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom. He lightly closes the door and pulls his shirt off. You can't help inhaling sharply at the sight. Pale skin scattered with beautiful moles, like stars in the night sky. You want to kiss each one. His chest hair and that stupid happy trail, it made your mouth salivate. Steve flexes his biceps slightly, trying to show off. You wouldn't tell him, but he didn't need to show off for you. You thought he was beautiful just as he was. Even when he was a "loser" (his own words not yours).

You toss your sweater off quickly, not wanting to miss a second. You push your pants and underwear off in the same movement. It hit you suddenly, that you were naked in Steve's room. This had only happened in your dreams, and if this was one, you didn't want to wake up.

Your eyes dart back to Steve as his jeans come off with his boxers. Steve's dick stands to attention, lightly hitting his stomach. A smattering of curls neatly trimmed at the base. A prominent vein on its side. You can see a mole on one of his balls, and you still agree with your earlier thought of kissing every mole. You lick your lips at the thought. Steve goes to take his tube socks off and falters slightly, almost falling.

It takes some nerves away you didn't realize you had as you giggle at the man in front of you. Steve's face flushes with embarrassment, but that feeling goes away as he sees you getting comfy on his bed. In his mind, you look like you belong. Like this was the perfect place for you. Steve gets his socks off and tosses them away, stalking over to you.

Steve slowly crawls onto the bed and over you. You grin up at him as he braced himself over you. "Hi," you murmur before kissing him. You can feel one of his hands snaking down your arm and grabbing your hand. He holds your hand as you kiss, making your head spin. Something so innocent as holding hands mixed with the way his tongue was moving against yours made it feel incredibly dirty. You knew you would think about this moment every time you held hands, because now you weren't going to let his hand go that easily.

Steve slowly lines up, rubbing his dick through your folds. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine as he rubs against you clit. You whimper slightly, bucking against him. Once his dick is coated thoroughly with your arousal, he teases your hole with his tip. The lightest touch of pressure, just so you know he's there before he pulls away.

You can feel the head of his dick slip in slightly, both of you moaning. "Ready?" He asks and you nod. He slowly pushes in, pausing to give you time to adjust to his length. It has a slight sting of pain as you stretch to adjust for his size. Steve murmurs apologies as he kisses your face, going back to the spot on your neck he found earlier. You relax against him and he pushes in all the way.

You've never felt so full. The feeling was amazing. Steve slowly starts to pull out before pushing back in. Each thrust of his dick sending pleasure coursing through you. You wrap your legs around his waist, allowing him to hit a different angle that causes you to moan.

Panting into each other's mouths as he thrusts into you. Steve moans wantonly, sending shivers down your spine. With every thrust he hits that spot that makes you see stars. You can feel your climax approaching. "Give it to me Honey," Steve murmurs, hand snaking down and circling your clit.

You crash over the edge before you realize you were even there. You spasm from pure unadulterated pleasure. Stars explode in your vision as ecstasy takes over. "Oh fuck you're-" Steve cuts off with a gasp as his hips stutter. You are floating through space, barely tethered to your body. You thought out of body experiences only happened when you were about to die, but the pleasure you felt sent you to new heights.

Steve's thrusts falter as he cums. You start to come back to earth as you feel his release paint your insides. Steve collapses on you, not in an unpleasant manner, but like a weighted blanket was laid on you. You wrap your arms around his waist in a loose hug (and if you squeezed his ass well thats just for you two to know). You can feel his heaving breaths as his chest rubs against yours.

Steve pulls back slightly to stare into your eyes. "Hi again," you giggle. "Hi Beautiful," He grins at you. You try to hide your face in his neck but he laughs and pulls back more, making you whine. "Don't go shy on me," Steve kisses your nose," I've seen you naked now. Nothing left to be shy about." You would argue but Steve kisses you again.

Steve slowly pulls out and you whine at the loss. You can feel his cum slowly drip out of you. He pulls back but you tighten your arms around his waist. "Hey, I'll be right back. Just gonna get a towel to clean up." Steve strokes your jaw. You reluctantly let go of the man so he can go get a towel. Steve leaves and returns quickly. A wet wash cloth in hand, Steve pauses at the sight of his release dripping out of you. You can tell he likes what he sees, making a mental note. He cleans you up, careful as you are still sensitive.

Soon, he is crawling back into bed next to you. He curls into you, wrapping an arm around your waist as his head goes to lay against your chest. You wrap one arm around his waist while the other hand goes to his hair. You both sigh contentedly. "Beautiful," Steve mumbles, kissing your breast. Yeah, your insecurity was definitely lessened in this moment. And you had a feeling that every time it started to grow, Steve would show you how he felt about them.

#Steve loves them all he does not care the size or shape #Steve is also canonically a hand holder during the deed so #He is the most boyfriend to boyfriend and idc if you aren't technically together in this #You are now like bro you aren't letting this man go #Also Steve spends a long time doing his hair and you think he hasn't tamed that jungle?#My man over here trimming and looking at the angles in the mirror to make sure it looks good #Personally I wouldn't care but thats just me #Anyways I love him and I love him and I love him #Is this purely self indulgent uh yes but I know I ain't alone in this so #Also I am so terrible at writing smut my mind goes blank and I just #Enjoy this poor attempt at smut aha #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington/you #Steve Harrington/reader #Steve Harrington x female!reader #Steve Harrington/female!reader #Stranger Things #LETS TRY POSTING THIS AGAIN CAUSE TUMBLR BLOCKED IT IN THE FEEDS AND YET I AM NOT SHADOWBANNED SO LETS TRY THIS AGAIN #Jade is Talking

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mistress-of-vos · 8 months

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Tim, eating a snickers: So, I was thinking!

Ra's, drinking wine: That must have cost you quite an effort, dear

Tim: You're so mean

Tim: Anyway. I was thinking, eh, well - marriage!

Ra's: Marriage?

Tim: Yeah, you know. Weddings and stuff. We should have one. Not like we can get it legally, but a party would be nice. I want one.

Ra's: Do you not consider us married?

Tim: Not really?

Ra's, realizing Timothy has seen him as "his old boyfriend" for 150 years and panicking: ...Oh

Tim: I will - leave. You are doing that scary face you make every time you want to destroy something

Ra's, way too eager: A wedding is - fine

Tim, surprised: Cool!

Ubu: OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! 😭

#rastim #ra'stim #shipping #ra's al ghul #tim drake #ra's al ghul x tim drake #incorrect ra'stim quotes #incorrect rastim quotes #my writing #crack #my poor attempt at a joke

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gwyns · 1 month

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I could see Azriel calling Gwyn his siren.🧜🏻‍♀️🐚 (I want a scene of him calling her “priestess”)

oh my god this is perfect. it starts as a retaliation of sorts for her use of shadowsinger, and they both use these terms with juuuust enough bite like, "good morning, shadowsinger. try to actually keep up with me today." his eyes narrow "you worry about your sloppy footwork, priestess, and maybe then i'll take your advice."

as their relationship progresses i can see him calling her his siren in such a loving way. maybe something like, "your song sings to mine, my siren." a kiss, on her chest, "berdara." another kiss, this time higher, on her collarbone, "gwyneth." again, the kiss is higher, reaching her neck this time, "my gwyn." finally his lips capture hers and they lose themselves in the feel of being pressed against one another

#excuse my poor attempts at writing romance but FUCK... i need a scene similar to the ending of pride and prejudice (2005)#acotar #azriel #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #asks #anonymous

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breakingdiamondboi · 4 months

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Thunderclash, about to confess: Captain, I- Rodimus: What do you want Blunders? Can't you see I'm busy dealing with sensitive science magic stuff! Thunderclash: Of course, I apologize! I was only- *Meanwhile* Riptide: It's better than the last attempt. Velocity: Anything is better than that. No one blew up this time. *Distant explosion* Velocity: I spoke too soon.

#the three thousandth attempt let's just say....#i hate them (affectionate)#poor blunders is trying #rodimus #thunderclash #riptide #velocity #rodiclash #thunderrod #mtmte #lost light #tranformers mtmte #transformers #maccadam #lost light shenanigans #dbb drabbles #my writing

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heyy-dont-mind-me · 9 days

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CREATE A CHARACTER OUT OF FLOWERS!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

THINK of your favorite flower

2. THINK of another flower

3. CHOOSE a flower of your choice

4. THINK of a flower you might see when you go out of the forest

Got all of them? LET'S MAKE YOUR CHARACTER!

is the hair color of your character

is the eye color of your character

The meaning of that flower is your character's personality

The meaning of that flower makes up your character's backstory

NOW THE REST OF THE MAKING IS UP TO YOU! HOPE YOU ENJOYED MAKING A CHARACTER!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⋮

⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀☆⠀⠀⠀ ⋮

⠀⠀⠀ ☆⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀⠀☆

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ☆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ☆

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witchofthesouls · 5 months

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I got too many WIPs that went nowhere or stagnanted in my docs, so here's a snippet of the aftermath where f!Thundercracker got knocked up by Soundwave, Prowl, and Jazz.

Soundwave held the quietest of the newsparks. Dark face scrunched as she squirmed to latch onto his chassis with her bundled limbs. Once settled, she purred, content being cradled, suckling sleepily on a pacifier, basking in the aftermath of feeding as he rubbed her covered back, right between the hidden little nubs.

He smiled beneath his mask when he felt the appendages flutter. After few quiet moments, he prodded the mind of a newspark, careful and gentle to not crush the simple structures or destroy the natural mental barriers still developing, getting only impressions of safe-warm-full and the instinctual knowledge that he was a progenitor -spark energy deeply familiar and comforting in her limited experience.

To compensate for newspark lack of vision, he carefully reconstructed the intruder's, for the lack of a better term, flavor. Minds, much like sparks, had unique hallmarks, and Soundwave shaped the sharp tang of precision, the cool, solid divide between personal and professional, an oily sickness of-

Thundercracker sharply inhaled before the newspark let out a thin cry as she tried to bury her face into his chassis, but the sudden burst of alarm seared across his mental shields. Clumsy and instinctual. Her siblings immediately wailed in sympathetic fear from the immediate echoes of danger radiating from their sister.

Skywarp immediately teleported into the room with Jazz at his back. Thundercracker waved them over to grab and soothe an infant as they fed off each other’s fear-heavy echoes, unable to detangle themselves from each other.

"Confirming hypothesis: newspark inherited some measure of my own ability.” Soundwave said, bouncing his armful of terrified newspark, whimpering as he carefully soothed out the sharp memory loop.

#transformers #transformers g1 #g1 #soundwave #thundercracker #bitlets #sparklings #maccadam #soundwave x thundercracker #genderbend #genderswap #fic ideas #my writing #the poor things were just born and already had a kidnapping attempt

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factorialsotherfandoms · 2 months

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QSMP x XCOM AU, finally some plot! (Though you'll have to wait for the plot in this one to get explained...) (Kinda suprised I got this done. Entirely uneditted as I'm leaving in 10 minutes)

This is still pretty early. Post Pac&Mike, pre-Cellbit. Infact, you may see Cellbit referenced a little... Jaiden, Bad, Foolish, Fit, and Philza explore a Federation Facility they were lead to by mysterious coordinates found tucked into a hidden supply cache...

TW: major character injury, background character death, corpses, violence

(Chapter 1/2, idk when 2 will be done but all the mission is contained here)

Following coordinates left by a spy of unknown origin is a fool’s errand, but then Foolish /has/ been assigned to the mission. Said sniper has taken it upon himself to distract Bad at every opportunity possible, and so Jaiden has stolen his command.

She presses on ahead, scouting the paths and signalling for people to follow. The low hills they arrived on give way to a road, and that is where she pauses.

3 fingers - an order to wait.

Fit crouches behind a fence, careful to make sure his grenade launcher is hidden, and squints for what she saw.

“Two guards and a sectoid,” she murmurs, Foolish hops down and into earshot. “Chances are as soon as we hit them, there will be alarms.”

“Can we sneak around?” Fit asks.

He is not against triggering the alarms and making some horrific noise, but they are here to investigate primarily. Tripping the security immediately… It’s a good way for any clues to get blown up.

Fit would know.

Blowing shit up is usually his job.

“We could try?” Jaiden chews on her lip. “But they seem to be going up and down the train tracks. Can’t see the building yet, if there even is one.”

“We should be fine,” Bad shakes his arms down a little, adjusting his grip. “Take them out fast, don’t let them call for help? A little surprise for them?”

“Up I go, then! Later!” Foolish is already crossing the road to a nearby petrol station, scrambling up to the roof.

They give him a moment to get into place, all analysing the terrain. Standard practice would be to have most of the group line up their shots, then Jaiden to distract the enemies by running straight in. As soon as they duck out of cover to deal with her…

Well Fit’s weapons are /messy/, but the others are all damned good shots.

Jaiden waits for everyone to confirm they are ready, then leaps out of her hiding spot. The Feds and their pet all turn their attention to her, stepping out of their cover to greet her.

It is their mistake.

One guard is down before it hears the gunfire, the other just as it turns to look. The sectoid tries to bolt, causing Philza’s bullet to only graze its shoulder, only for Jaiden to slice through its throat as it does.

A shot from Foolish’s rifle puts an end to the other.

Fit checks for more danger, and sees none. Beyond the trees he can see what looks like factory smoke - likely their target. To the left, right, and behind is clear, leaving only onwards.

“All clear,” he tells them, and starts moving on.

Only to turn and realise everyone has frozen.

“Guys?” he asks.

Bad breaks out of it first, shaking his head, “ah, muffins.”

Fit tilts his head in a question.

“The Assassin,” Bad taps at his head. “Didn’t you hear her?”

Fit shakes his head, “not a thing.”

The others shake off the effect too, frowning at one another.

“Well,” it’s Jaiden who tilts her head. “If she doesn’t want us here specifically, that means we’re on track, right?”

“Right,” Philza nods. “And she’s still a bit off, yet; Niki mentioned good scrubland for landing around the back, just too close to be subtle, so it’s probably where she arrived too.”

“Did you train in the Wastelands to not get this bullshit or something?” Foolish asks. “Because, damn, not hearing her would be good.”

Fit looks at Philza.

Philza looks back.

“Something like that,” Fit says. “Takes too long to teach anyone, though.””

“Guys, let’s just get on with this,” Jaiden stretches. “She’s here now; we deal with her if she gets close. Just like always, right?”

“Yup!” Bad has Ghostie shift modes, his robot now joining Philza’s crow in keeping watch. “Let’s not give them time to sort their muffins into line.”

The rest agree, falling into formation, and Fit still is not entirely sure what they heard, but…

Well, if it was important, Philza would have said.

---

Beyond the treeline is a railway track, and beyond the track is a building made of concrete and steel. The emblem of the Federation sits proudly on the front, clearly marking out their target. Unlike city facilities it has no main front door, only two small side ones.

And outside of it are crates upon crates, scattered and stacked up. Every crate has a metal frame, but some sort of clear plastic reveals the green glow inside. On the sidings of the railway tracks is a flatbed cargo carriage, also stacked up with them, but those ones have a tarp pulled over to hide the worst of the glow.

And inside each and every crate, there is a perfectly intact human form.

“The fudge,” Fit breathes out.

He is not the only one, the group quiet and faces grim.

Hesitantly, Philza approaches the closest of the exposed crates. He kneels besides them, his Crow sat atop and looking down. He frowns as he looks first at his bird, and then at the screen giving him readouts from it.

And then he is still, very still, just quietly breathing and eyes skimming text as his Crow hops between the stacks of crates, taking readings both for records and Philza’s consumption.

Breathe in, breathe out; Philza is rarely so quiet.

It is… concerning.

Fit kneels beside him, listening to the others shuffle and looking at his old friend.

“Phil?” he asks.

“Dead,” Philza doesn’t even look up from the screen on his glove. “All of them are dead.”

Fit stands again, looking over the crates. If this many are stacked outside…

“And the goo?” Jaiden asks.

Philza shakes his head, and Foolish shrugs. Now he looks properly, Fit can see that they both also look a little shaken.

“We’re too late,” Jaiden replies. “All these people…”

“We’d need to run samples, but I think… I think we found the missing civilians.”

“Fudge, Max!” Bad turns sharply to Foolish.

“Max…?” Foolish replies. “Oh, fuuuuuck. Fuck, okay, we’ll just… You break it gently to him, alright?”

“Do you think we could…?” Jaiden starts, before shaking her head. “There’s too many of them.. I…”

“Take a moment,” Fit advises, knowing that, of the five of them, only he and Philza have much experience with the sort of tortures that the Federation call ‘science’. “We can’t help these people, but we can stop the fuckers taking anyone else. Breathe through it, and get fucking angry.”

Jaiden curls in on herself, while what little of Bad’s face can be seen is grim. Foolish is the one who takes the advice to heart, kicking at one of the low walls. Fit and Philza keep watch; everyone has known civilians dying before, hell the sanctuaries have been attacked often enough. But that is in fire and blood and anger, while these…

These crates, the putting of every corpse into it’s own storage container of goo, nearly piled outside a facility presumably for some sort of processing…

Well, it takes a few minutes, the first time. Emotions should be processed later, but you gotta get them into the boxes somehow.

But they do not have minutes, only seconds, because more trouble will arrive soon enough

Philza is the one to break the quiet, taking a deep breath and looking inwards to the group once again. “We need to-”

Whatever he was about to say, he cuts himself off as he drops to his knees. Above him, right where his neck had been, a long sword swipes through the air. As it does, an arm - a torso, a head - flicker into vision.

Purple skinned, hair pulled back, armour in red and black, two swords - Assassin.

“Good reflexes,” she twitches her head as she speaks, lips pulled in a mockery of - or maybe attempt at - a smile. "I had hoped your kind would never stumble across this facility, you know? Some things are best left unknown. But, now you have seen it… I cannot permit you to leave. Prepare yourselves."

As if.

Philza glances over, and Fit catches his eye. It’s a little dark but, while the Assassin talks about how wonderful it will be to kill them all, he nods.

Fit adjusts his gun.

Philza pulls a knife from his toolbelt.

It isn’t a combat knife, not really, but it still cuts flesh well as Philza sinks it into the Assassin’s ankle. He darts back, and Fit knows how this goes.

He opens fire.

The Assassin cuts off her words at the storm of bullets, a nasty hit to the shoulder as she jumps over the fence and into cover. Jaiden follows, cursing out her opponent with knife in hand.

Mud is kicked up and into Jaiden’s eyes, blinding her - and the following Foolish - just long enough for the Assassin to pull out her cloaking device.

Fit cannot fire, not with his allies so close, but Bad can. A shot from the rifle lands squarely in the Assassin’s back right as she fades from view.

“FUCK!” Jaiden yells. “Shit! Where is she?!”

The answering laughter echoes around.

“Is she gone?” Foolish asks. “Wait, no, she’s not gone. Stay close.”

Even though he knows that he will never see her coming, Fit still keeps glancing from side to side. His skin crawls with eyes on his back, the very familiar sensation of being hunted down his spine. Philza looks just as edgy, eyes a little wild as he presses against Fit’s good side.

The five form a circle, all looking out, guns ready for trouble when it comes.

And they wait.

And they wait, until Bad sighs and shifts his gun a little.

“She isn’t coming,” he says. “She’s waiting for us to be distracted.”

“Do we wait for her to get bored? Or press on?” Jaiden is equally as shifty, eyes narrowed as she looks arond.

“She doesn’t get bored,” Philza’s voice is a little distant. “If we wait, they’ll just bring more of the fuckers in.”

And that’s damned the problem, isn’t it?

All five pairs of eyes turn to the door, and then at everybody else. They need to enter, they know they need to, but with the Assassin in play… It’s a fucking death trap.

Fit looks at his companions again.

He is about to offer, when Jaiden nods, and pushes back her shoulders.

“I’ll go,” she says, already pulling out her sword. “Foolish?”

Foolish cocks a pistol, “always.”

The two of them enter, side by side. Fit positions himself behind them, ready for them to slip to either side of the door and allow him to fire on whatever is within. Foolish does, firing a few rounds from his pistol. Jaiden… sort of does, jumping over some scattered technology and charging an enemy out of sight.

Fit, however, cannot see whatever problem they have seen; he makes sure that Philza is keeping an eye out for threats from the outside, and also presses on in.

First assessment - threats. Three MECs, standing in some sort of algae-coloured water. Four Federation Guards to the right, one senior two with stun batons. Two sectoids and another guard to the left, Jaiden already there with sword in one hand, rifle in the other, and sparring all three at once.

Second assessment - location. Copper and brass looking technology, glowing in sickly green. There are walkways around the edge of a pool of tainted water, and the back wall consists of hundreds upon hundreds of giant tubes. Each is filled with glowing green.

Each contains a human corpse.

Third assessment - next action. Even if Jaiden somehow cannot manage two sectoids and a guard, an automatic fire submachine gun is not going to help her there. The other guards are A Problem, but MECs? MECs are his specialty.

The best cover he is getting is the sheet metal serving as a bannister for the walkway - MECs don’t care, not with small-scale rocket launchers, and those Guards are busy coming closer anyway. He hefts the gun onto the railing - he can support it himself, especially with the prosthetic, but he likes having knees - and lets loose.

Somewhere behind him, the door closes. Bad’s Ghostie drifts over, stunning the MEC not caught in the hail of bullets, while Fit hears the very familiar sound of a grenade exploding somewhere near the group of four guards. He does not have the luxury of protecting his own back, but they will all have to do.

“Do not touch the liquid!” Bad calls the group as Ghostie swoops back to him. “It eats flesh!”

Jaiden seems to take that warning as inspiration, because right after she yells “got it!”, one of the sectoids is flipped over the railing, and sent screaming into it.

It’s not an acid, any acid working that fast would surely damage at least the paintwork on the MECs, but it’s fucking grim. Something enzyme based? Fit’s seen some people try that sort of shit in the Wasteland, but never get it to work.

Might be, might not be; that’s not really Fit’s job.

He knows that some of the Order - Maxo, mostly, though Missa has been convinced to carry them too - do fancy shit with bluescreen bullets and EMP grenades. Fit, though? Fit likes to do this the old fashioned way. Just filling the fuckers full of lead.

Highly specialised, sharpened lead, designed to tear through metal with even more ease than flesh, but lead nonetheless.

He takes one down, dives under cover to avoid the small rockets another fires at him, and takes a smattering of shrapnel to the arm. He wears proper armour unlike some people he could mention, and it’s far enough away that it does not cut all the way through, but it certainly leaves scorch marks across the fabric.

It is nothing that accounts for how, as he stands, Philza screams, “Fit! Look out!”

Fit turns, and sees nothing; both MECs are reloading, the sectoids are dead and the guards are engaged. Maybe a late call about the rockets, but-

A cold chill runs down his spine.

“Your training fails you,” a voice whispers in his ear. He turns, catching the eyes of the Assassin as her cloaking device flickers off. He grabs at her, twisting himself away.

Cold, hard steel punctures through his armour.

He does not look. Fit does not look, but he can feel how her sword enters his back just below his ribs, curving up and escaping just after the next one.

One, two, three.

Waiting for the pain to kick in, Fit takes careful breaths around the blade. He’s survived worse. He’s survived worse. They’ve fought her off before. There are potions and medics right there. Don’t panic, do not panic, panic and you die.

And then the rips out the blade.

The agony hits, and Fit drops to his knees, pressing his hands to the wounds and gasping for air.

It hurts, it hurts, it /hurts!

“Take comfort,” she whispers to him, wiping his blood from her blade, “for there is dignity in death to a superior opponent.”

Fit closes his eyes.

A clash of steel.

From the floor he struggles them open again.

Foolish is between him and the Assassin, her blades caught on his pistols. Jaiden, sprinting over, slashes down her back and the fight moves away.

“Phil!” Foolish yells. “And you, bitch, get away from him!”

With his assailant distracted and a bleeding tear through his chest, Fit pushes himself backwards, behind a counter. Worse place to fire from, but better cover. He runs on instinct, blood pooling inside him and leaving a trail across the floor. Hide, heal, get safe - he’s had worse, he’s had fucking worse, just fucking breathe.

(Or don’t because, shit, he has no idea how to tell if she caught his lung).

Moments later, Philza’s Crow stumbles a landing beside him. He can see the splash potion already prepared, the pink liquid in the throat of the robotic bird.

He lifts a hand, letting it apply it to the front, before shifting just enough to apply it to the back. Almost immediately the numbing component takes effect; now the burning is gone, he collapses once again. He can hear Foolish swearing as he fights, Bad answering just as instinctively, the clang of sword-on-sword, and the steady fire of either Bad or Philza’s rifle as the other enemies are kept at bay.

It’s Bad’s; as the weapon is still firing, Philza slides around the counter, medical bag already open and hanging off his shoulder.

“Fit?” he asks.

Fit gives him a somewhat listless thumbs up, “right here, Phil. Potion got the bleeding, just waiting for the painkillers, you know?”

“Right,” some of the tension in Philza’s shoulders drops as he examines the wound. He grimaces, but grabs some dressings and starts peeling off the backs. “Don’t have time to stitch this, with all this crap going on. Think you can manage until we get the fuck out of here?”

“You know me, Phil,” Fit hears the sounds of the fighting slowing down, the MECs no longer firing. “I’ve survived worse with less.”

He probably deserves the way Philza jabs his thumbs into old, tender scars as he tugs the skin together, and applies the dressings. The potion will deal with the blood, at least until the nanites run out of power. Then it’s just… Just keeping the wound sealed enough to breathe.

“Keep weight off it when you can,” Philza tells him, adding tape despite the dressings having adhesive. “As soon as we get to evac, you’re lying down and letting me look at this shit.”

There isn’t really time to agree. Fit is certain Philza was about to tell him to let someone else carry his heavier kit, only to be interrupted by Bad screeching in pain.

Philza is cursing and running before Fit has a chance to process the ungodly sound.

Still, needs must. Despite his wound, despite the painkillers not yet quite being fully working, despite the nanites still spreading into the bloodstream and stabalising the wound, allowing him to breathe, Fit pulls himself to his feet. Feeling a little weak he hoists his gun onto the counter.

It’s awkward to work like this, but he can; he directs his attention to the last of the Sectoids, and lets loose a hail of bullets.

It falls, and Fit looks around.

Jaiden is adjusting one of her vambraces, while Foolish reloads his pistols. Bad looks a little dizzy, but waves off Philza’s hands and drinks one of his own potions rather than apply it to whatever wound he has. Crow rests on some of the rails separating the walkways from the liquid, and Ghostie floats in its place.

The MEC wrecks in the liquid stand untouched, but the Fed whose corpse fell into it is slowly dissolving away.

“We good?” Foolish asks the group. “We forced a respawn, so she shouldn’t be back anytime soon.”

“I’m good to go on,” Fit replies, even as the others somewhat hesitantly confirm.

Whatever they are looking for, well… The missing civilians were some of it, and fuck this - fuck all of this - but the rest… Whatever their contact sent them to get? It’s in the back, isn’t it?

“Fit, you got explosives?” Bad asks.

“Do I have explosives,” Fit deadpans back. “What do you take me for, Bad, a reasonably human being? Of course I have fucging explosives.”

The slip gets him a look, but Bad must be feeling shitty as he allows it to pass, “we wanna meet up with Niki, right? Can you make a door in the back wall while we check that room out?”

A door?

“You won’t be able to close it,” he warns.

“Oh that’s fine,” Bad smiles a bit. “We don’t need to leave this place intact.”

“Just tell me where you want it, then.”

“Hm… Back wall, to the right? I saw an internal door there you can duck around once it’s set!”

“Perfect,” Fit ignores Philza’s glare, and hoists his gun back over his shoulder. “You four headed to that lab looking room?”

“Yup,” Foolish pops the p as he speaks. “See you in five!”

Fit waves his acknowledgement, waiting for the four of them to start heading over. Once they’re close enough to the back for any aliens in the last room to jump them and not him, Fit starts the other way around the walkway.

Alone, now, he can see how the liquid is not just dissolving the corpse, but is glowing as it does so. Bubbles he sort of expected, but glowing is fucking weird; even if they have to take samples of this shit, he isn’t touching it. Tubbo with glowing flesh dissolvant? Could probably make it work, but half of the field agents can’t be trusted to handle grenades, let alone that stuff.

Examining the wall Bad asked for a hole making in, Fit finds a couple of weak points. The area around the window is surprisingly well reinforced, especially given that the section next to it is cracked. Outside, a short, muddy cliff where the facility was cut into a slope, leading up to some shrubland beyond.

The facility is not exactly hidden, but why do the Feds need to hide the damn thing, when they already rule the world?

Despite the cracked section and the reinforcement, Fit still elects to lay the explosives around the window; upon examining the cracks, damaging that bit of wall further would just bring the roof down on them. If his maths is right - and Fit’s explosives maths is always right - he should be able to blow out the window and the section of wall below it, while keeping the top of the frame in place. It would be easier to just blow it out from the window but, again, the structural integrity of a shitty concrete job.

Given everything going on in this facility he’s a bit surprised the walls are /this/ bad, but perhaps the Federation enjoys cutting corners more than they enjoy their horrific science experiments going to plan.

Just through the wall beside him, Fit can hear the intense debate of the others. The wall muffles it a little too much to hear specifics, but it means they’ll be done soon.

It’s for the best; Fit really, really does not want to be stuck on the helicopter still when the painkillers wear out.

Careful of his wound, he sets the charges. He checks and double checks, before heading over to the room with the others. Enters, latches the door behind him, and moves away from it.

“Charges set,” he informs the group, already taking in the room.

It is a lab, yes, though of copper and brass looking faintly sickly in the glowing green light. Large vials of softly glowing liquid line the walls, feeding into some sort of device. The device runs through the walls and the floor, and up into a plinth in the centre.

On that plinth, being fed into by the processor, is a glass cylinder, barely larger than a syringe, filled with something viscous.

“Just a minute,” Foolish replies to Fit. “They’re arguing about if we grab whatever they’re extracting from the stuff outside or not.”

“The people,” Jaiden elaborates. “What they’re taking from the people.”

“We have to,” Bad is the one looking closest at it. “I don’t have anything to analyse it here, and it has to be important, right?“

“It looks like nitroglycerine,” Philza is frowning. “I’m not sure it’s /safe/ to touch that.”

Safety’s a bit laughable with the amount of blood covering everyone, but Fit understands the point.

Still, they gotta do what they gotta do.

Foolish seems in agreement with that sentiment; he ignores the continuing debate to simply walk over and grab the vial.

An entirely new set of alarms goes off, causing mildly irritated groans to pass around the group; it’s just loud.

Anything the others say with it going on, Fit doesn’t hear; years of working with explosives will do that, even if you have the sort of protection Fit has only recently learnt exists.

“Alright,” Fit waves for attention from the din. “Away from the door. I don’t think it’ll blow through, but this place is crap. I’ve seen lean tos more stable than this.”

In the Wasteland, sure, but that still means they were put up in ten minutes and not meant to last longer than a night.

There is not a lot of cover in this room, but they make do; Foolish and Philza, the least injured of the five, tuck themselves into the corners, using the wall itself as a shield. Fit, Jaiden, and Bad? They just about manage to be entirely covered by the machinery feeding into the glass. It’s not much better than the wall, but it’s made of metal and not shit concrete.

Fit gives a count of three for them to cover their ears, and hits the detonator.

The door does not blow in, and the walls do hold, but even with all his calculations the ceiling does crack. It doesn’t fall, though, so he considers it a win. They let the dust settle, then scramble back up.

“You three get out first, we’ll cover you,” comes Philza’s order.

With even more alarms and reinforcements surely on the way, there is no point in arguing or quibbling over who is incharge; Foolish passes Bad the vial, and the trio run.

Well, no, Fit cannot run - while the painkillers are working, the numbing effect has worn off. It hurts again, now, and he can feel where movement tugs at the dressings. Bad sees him stumble and offers an arm, helping him on while Jaiden runs ahead to lay the flares and call Niki back down.

They do not talk, busy with the necessity of movement. Behind them, Fit hears Philza swearing. Bad calls back a ‘language’, and Fit only hopes that Philza has the time to flip him off in return.

It takes forever and no time at all for Niki to appear and drop the ladder. Jaiden does not immediately scramble up, instead waiting for the two of them, picking off any aliens which escape Philza and Foolish’s aims.

Fit lets go of Bad, letting him climb up first. It takes a minute and some deep breathing to prepare himself, but Fit can find it in himself to follow.

He can almost feel the wound tear as he does.

At the top, Bad grabs his arm, hoisting him into the helicopter proper. Fit does not even bother getting to a chair, merely rolling out of the way of the hatch and cussing up a storm.

Bad does not scold him, and that’s a grim thought.

“Sorry,” he still says, when the man approaches. “Stings like a, um, muffin.”

“We’ll handle that later,” Bad sounds chipper, but he frowns as he checks on the dressings and sees blood. Two black hands, nails too long for gloves, press down on it.

Fit grunts, and leans back, watching as Jaiden swings herself in. She strips off her armour, grabbing one of the helicopter’s medical kits to bandage herself up. She looks exhausted; Fit feels it too.

It’s not long after that that Philza and Foolish appear. Fit offers them a wave, as Foolish pulls up the ladder and Philza comes over.

“How is it?” Philza asks.

“The dressings are bloody,” Fit replies. “Still had worse.”

“Well, fuck,” Philza takes over from Bad, who excuses himself to go sit with Foolish. “Pain levels?”

“I’ll live.”

“Fit.”

“What do you want me to day?” Fit asks. “It’s better than the last time I got stabbed through the gut?”

It is not exactly reassuring words for either of them.

“Alright, fuck, I think we have soluble stitches in one of these. Should hold until we get back and someone can fix you up proper,” Philza roots around in his bag, pulling out a couple of packets. “Wouldn’t recommend being conscious, though.”

Being unconscious while injured and on the transport? No fucking way.

“Phil,” Fit just says.

“I know, I know, I just have to fucking say it,” he opens one of the packets, rips off the top layer of dressing, and presses something gooey into the wound. “Try not to bleed out.”

“Trying my fucking best.”

Phil gives him a thin smile. That’s the last of the helicopter ride that Fit actually remembers, except for the fact he did make it back to the Avenger conscious, if delirious.

#qsmp x xcom #qsmp fanfic #qsmp fit #qsmp philza #qsmp bbh #qsmp foolish #qsmp jaiden #i'll ao3 it after deadlands either tonight or in the morning #enjoy my poor attempts at writing combat #the next scene is pac and mike debriefing fit because pac's also hurt and mike was helping with the analysis of the vial #maybe with some of the others #but yeah enjoy this!#this is genuine actual bonafida xcom plot #... i might someday try draw for this oen too but aaa #drawing is hard and i want to get it up #and don't have time #so maybe another day #much like the epilogue

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unforgivenn · 1 month

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WOLLEMI DAY 5- CAUGHT

CW: Young whumpee, Themes of captivity, a lil bit of manipulation, pet whump, failed escape attempt, future punishment mention, uhm dominant, creepy asf whumper, andd a pinch of trauma, alcohol consumption

The air was thick with laughter, clinking glasses, and the pulsating beats of music. The party’s that Dominic kept were extraordinary, only the kinds that the elite of the country got to experience. Guess, Caleb should consider himself lucky then… Dominic had made it clear that he absolutely needed him to be there to introduce his sweet pet to his friends.

Caleb had thought about it a lot, Maybe.. Maybe someone there would see and help him! No, No.. Dominic’s friends would be no different from him. Maybe even worse… He shuddered. He had been planning an escape for so, so long since the last time he failed. But this time there would be no failing. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the torture that Dominic would have in store for him. Caleb knew that there was no way he could actually run from Dominic. He had learnt it the first time.. But he needed something, something that could make him feel that he wasn’t going brain-dead under his captor and still have some defiance under him.

As the night wore on and the alcohol flowed freely, Caleb's attention turned increasingly towards Dominic. He wanted to show him off, to display his dominance and control to his friends. It was a sick game, one where Caleb was merely a pawn. He was there kneeling at Dominic’s side like a good little kitten that he was.

He noticed how Dominic was slowly starting to slur his words, how he squinted his eyes slightly to see properly and how his leg bounced up and down. He waited for a while before Dominic finally excused himself to go the washroom telling Caleb to be a good pet and stay though his speech was incoherent. Caleb looked at Dominic’s friends, all of them were busy talking with each other or just drinking.

He finally saw an opening until he suddenly got up and bolted outside trying to find the front door, his heart pumping with adrenaline. He heard a familiar “Caleb!!” behind him though that just made him run faster desperate to get away. As soon as his hand opened the front door two figures entered blinking at him before grinning. He freezed momentarily as the realization sank in. He was pulled by his armpits by either one of them with a tight hold on him as they dragged him back to his tormentor. Caleb didn’t even try to fight, he just looked down not able to believe it. He had been so close. So close.. Then.. why..? He knew the plan was childish. That he would never be able to get away from his fate. But.. he had this small hope in him that maybe. Maybe it would work it somehow.. “Hope. It’s a child’s play.” Dominic had once told him. The two men threw him on the floor infront of Dominic.

“Take better care of your toy, Sinclair” Dominic didn’t even pay attention to what they said, simply swatting them away and walking towards his traumatized kitten and forcing his jaw up to look him in the eye. Oh how he loved when the spark in their eye goes away.

“Trying to slip away. Were we? Well we’ve got to make sure that doesn’t happen again right” He said somehow seeming completely sober now… Maybe he shouldn’t have tried running away..

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worldsokayestmagicalgirl · 1 year

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Shrieking into the void for a few seconds because I just hit 25 pages & 11k words on the (DM requested) INSANELY detailed backstory for the new campaign I’ll be starting soon.

I've officially hit novella territory & I'm still not done _(:3 」∠)_ this is the longest thing I've written in ages & I kinda equally impressed/horrified.

And I thought I overdid it when Amoré's backstory came out 17 pages. 😮‍💨

Watch this be what makes me learn to print & bind books cuz now that I know how long it is I'm consumed by a need to hold it physically.

#dnd #dnd pcs #dnd backstory #creative writing #my poor fishie monk #shrieking into the void because I've already burneded everyone in my physical vicinity with this knowledge #the void will be my diary for the next few minutes #in a weird way this has made me enthusiastic about writing again #let’s see how long I last before I attempt to bind it

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