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@blissedouts
victimized by vex . twenty one plus . mutuals only .
(âż â„âżâ„)
now that i'm done and caught up with replies, come write dumb shit with me! if you want something plotted, come add me on discord and i got you my dudes, replies may be slow but : spell slut.#9785 ! if ya want me to just send you a random starter or memes or somethin' just say the word, my dude. i'm here for the night and my muse is on fire.
reapsin·:
AURORA BELL IS A PATHETIC WOUNDED LITTLE NYMPH OF A GIRL. johnâs patience with those types of people is limited. they serve their purpose and then he never sees them again. either they break themselves on someone elseâs current or they dissolve in themselves. they dance to the tune life picks for them and they donât achieve much beyond that. pretty faces, pretty bodies, ugly tattered souls. if he could dump her off on the side of the road, he wouldâve. but sheâs vital. necessary. something to be taken care of and cherished until sheâs fulfilled the new purpose in life sheâs been given. and she doesnât even know. she doesnât realize how important sheâs become.Â
âyes,â he glances in the rearview mirror, watching the headlights that follow after him. âoh john does have something to it.â he pumps the brakes twice, an action that seems as droll as their conversation, and the car veers off to the left, climbing the dirt roads.Â
âweâre all busy,â he addresses her question now, attention turned towards her for seconds at a time. âwe make the effort to come together as a family. itâs important. family is everything. wouldnât you agree?âÂ
an escort is waiting at his ranch when he slows the truck, careful to avoid the bumps as to not startle the baby deer in the front with him. âmaybe your sister would like to join us one day,â john says, putting his vehicle into park. his chosen flank the truck at all sides, another reaches for auroraâs door. johnâs hand comes up, just in eye-line, and the man stops, fingers curled around the handle.Â
âah, would you like me to look at that cut on your foot, aurora? it looks like it hurts.âÂ
there's a burning in the back of her mind that tells her she needs to get out of there, but she pushes it aside. the seeds have been nothing but kind to her at this point, they've accepted her into whatever sort of flock they've created and given her the kindness she feels like she has always deserved. that's all she wanted, was to belong to something greater than herself. it felt like this was right - unyielding in her faith. she was a smart girl, or at least, she thought she was. the fact that she didn't see impending danger at the hands of one john seed held true to the fact that she was blinded by her desire to be a part of something. she nods, tearing her gaze away from the foliage and livestock down the roads that passed to glance out of the corner of her eye in his direction before returning her attention to the sights outside the window. it looked like just any other place, back in the country where she was born and bred, where she called home - before this, whatever this place was. as much as she wanted it to be home, it wasn't, just yet, but that had nothing to do with the people and more to do with herself. there was a part of her that was holding back for some unforeseen reason, unable to attach herself fully. like a prick at the back of her neck, she shakes her head and clears those thoughts from her mind when he speaks again. before she's realized it, he's shifted and his hand is closer to her door, guarding the exit from the vehicle. she nods, teeth gingerly piercing the inside of her cheek, involuntarily, at best, but done in a moment of sudden nervousness. she has nothing to be worried about though, does she? taking a deep breath, she looks john square in the eye and nods again. "that would be very kind of you, john," she says, her voice taking on a sweeter tone. if anything, this could be seen as another act of kindness from the once imposing figure that was john seed, and she would lap them up given half the chance.
lambflayed·:
if she wanted, she couldâve ended this. snapping bones, displacing someone, ending an altercation by finding the easy way out, the dirty play, is something sheâs skilled at. had this been a peggie, they wouldâve ended up on the ground with a snapped neck. a bullet between the eyes. a knife to the ribcage. to the thigh. anywhere. but it isnât just another project lackey. itâs her sister. her goddamn sister. the very reason she ended up as tangled in all of this as she had been. at the first inkling of trouble, scarlett shouldâve packed up and dragged auroraâs ass out of montana. she shouldâve shipped her off somewhere else, found a better place to call home. she wasnât watching her as closely as she shouldâve been. distracted. grasping at straws for something as close to normal as sheâd ever had before. sheâd allowed herself to want something outside of being her sisterâs keeper and now theyâre here. both wrapped up in this world. scarlett had reacted on impulse, throwing a punch to block an attack, but she wasnât putting her all in it. she wasnât actively fighting aurora.
           blissed out like this, on the cusp of becoming just another of faithâs fucking angels, sheâs strong. immovable or uncaring to pain, focused on whatever it is sheâs seeing in her mind and the deputy canât reach her. she canât fucking reach her. âaurora, listen to me,â she tries, nails digging at her sisterâs arms, the attempt to anchor her futile. and then sheâs on her back and auroraâs fists find their target every time.Â
it hurts.
sheâs been through enough pain to know what she can weather and had she stopped this, it wouldnât be anywhere on top of the list. thereâs blood in her mouth, down her nose, she chokes on it before it bubbles up and froths over. ârori,â she tries again, eyes screwed shut. still, she doesnât fight her sister off, doesnât do anything to deepen whatever hallucination has a hold of her. it hurts and her head spins. âyou gotta fuckinâ fight it.âÂ
maybe this would be how she dies. fuck joseph. fuck the prophecy. fuck the end of times. maybe she dies right here and now because of a drugged up sister that sheâd given up everything for. maybe this is a fitting end. or she could do it instead. she could end auroraâs suffering. she could. itâd be easy. scarlett shifts from beneath her, whatever energy she has left thrown in to twisting and kicking aurora right in the chest, getting her off of her.Â
her sister's voice doesn't even register in the back of her mind, it comes through garbled, muffled, discordant in it's own verse. she's too caught up in her own swarm of madness to push through whatever this that has overtaken her. the bliss, pulsating through her system. she wants blood, wants ruin, fire and brimstone trailing through her veins. her temperature has skyrocketed at this point, and she feels a flush throughout her system, fueling the anger inside of her. and then it hits her, a force that seems almost otherwordly. he's never hit this hard before, her highschool bully, but she can't even think the thought because the wind is knocked from her lungs, causing her to lurch back. trying to struggle to breathe, she lets out a growl, gone feral, gone beastial, something that is no longer in the realm of aurora bell, angel personified. she breathes in and it hurts, the pain registers, but only for a moment, because her mind is a haze. she's muttering things under her breath, speaking in gibberish, mostly, but to her it makes sense. to her, she's speaking reasonably. she's lost within the depths of her mind at this point and it's going to take something huge to break her out of the catacylsmic reckoning. it wasn't until the sound of a voice, repeated in the back of her mind, eyes entirely still glazed over, head in a fog. but there was something. something that called her back. was that. her mother? it was like she was drowining and her mother was leading her to the surface. but she fought against it, - an alternate voice coming through clearly, telling her to keep going. to keep fighting. but the sound of charlotte's crooning was enough to knock her off her game, allowing scarlett to get the upper hand on her in the moment, and she started to flash back to reality, but not before heaving the body of her sister back as hard as she could, hearing the sound of a skull connecting with the hardwood. bits and pieces came to her at that point. a body lying motionless beneath her. she jumped on the unmoving visage, and it slowly started to peek through the veil of what was happening to show her that she wasn't fighting some monster, with limbs and teeth and harsh words, but her older sister. "scarlett,"
she whispers, the visage of a girl, bloodied and broken, coming into her view. she gasps aloud, not attempting to shake her sibling for safety purposes. sheâd taken a first responder class back in the day, when she found blood spewing from her sisterâs skull, she fumbled backwards, before a phone came into sight from a sunbeam peeking through the window. scrambling towards it, she dialed the local ambulance.
sitting in a corner she began to rock back and forth, completely disassociating from what is real and what is not in this moment. a fugue state encompassing her entire being.
wiprus·:
Without meaning to a laugh slips from her, fingers curling against the wood of the bar, the feel of it under her nails and Opheliaâs lets out a ragged breath. She, of course, glances over to the man in question, glowers at him before her face smooths into an emotionless mask. If she let herself get too riled up, she would end up smashing his head through the table or even out the window, or perhaps even worse. How many times had she fantasized about wrapping her hands around his throat? Watching the light go out and the words die on his lips. If it wasnât for the fact her sister was a cop, she might had lured him out into the forest and had her way with him.Â
âA lady doesnât kiss and tell.â As quick as it came, the expression on her face had vanished with a shake of her head. No reason to dwell on things that couldnât be done, all she could do was make sure she brought no trouble to Mary Mayâs bar. One less patron meant less money, more talk and they couldnât have that. âItâs like a cleansing, right?â She turned to Aurora with a small smile, limbs relaxing before her arms cross over her chest. âThere can be all this crap on the roads and the rain just washes it all away.â She paused for a moment, eyes squinting up at the light, listening to the sounds of the pattering on the windows. âI used to do chalk drawings in front of my house but when it rained, they vanished. No more little stick figures.â
It was such an odd sensation to tell someone about her past, to give personal information to someone who could figure things about herself, then use it against her. It also was weird to talk about some of the normal things her father allowed her to do, only because she never had felt like a normal kid, especially with Aurora sitting in front of her. She bet that her parents never forced her to kill the only man she had loved, as some sort of test, to push her into being a killer, how happy he had been when he confessed to him. Aurora looked so innocent, she was almost envious of her.
Another smile is given, head bobbing up and down while she gets the steaming pile of food and two forks, âHey now, I never miss a meal! Eating is important.â After plopping down the porcelain, she shook her head, âUnless weâre at the testy festy.â That was the only thing she would not touch with a ten foot pole, only thing she was putting in her mouth was the booze that was served there and possibly any food she happened to bring with her. Maybe she had spent too much time in the city, but the thought of eating animal parts had her looking for the next possible exit. âYou want me to drive you home, by the way? I should be getting of my shift in a few hours, Iâd be happy to give you a lift.â
her eyes widen, whilst in the middle of taking a sip of the water sheâd been provided. aurora goes into a cough when it travels down the wrong path, invading her airway. when she finally concedes her momentary fit, it turns into that of a laugh, brows raised before raising the glass to imaginary cheers ophelia. whether the girl was messing with her or not, she was unaware, but to each their own, she assumed. thankful for not having spit the water out that she had just drank, she reached for a napkin and dabbed around her mouth, cleansing it of any dribble that would have left her lips. âyâmean with those big chunky chalks, the colorful ones?â she says, a momentary thought permeating her brain as she remembers back to her own childhood, having done something similar. her images were crude in their own right, but sheâd refined her talent since then, art was more or less an outlet that she truly desired now and again when things got too heavy on her mind. "i used to do those all the time, but they were shit if i'm bein' honest," tucking strands of dampened hair back behind her ear, she leans on the bar, sneaking a pen from opheliaâs pocket before grabbing the unused napkin. drawing two stick figures holding hands before presenting it to her friend. a small heart on the paper. ânow you have a drawinâ that wonât fade!â she says, admirably, before folding it and tucking it into the girlâs hands. the thought of food makes her stomach rumble, perhaps she was more hungry than she had realized. âyou and me both, girl,â she says, a look of sheepish nature spreading across her face at the sound. except sometimes she did forget to eat. it wasnât intentional, but sheâd never admit it to anyone but herself. her head was too full sometimes for the thought of sustenance to break through the madness that was her brain. âyou wanna come over an watch a movie or somethinâ?â she asks, eyes twinkling with a brightness that could only be her innocent nature peaking through the darkness. she didnât have many friends growing up, so her friendship with ophelia was something she treasured greatly.
ânoneâa that chick flick shit, i promise. your choice.âÂ
I  w a l k e d  a w a y from my coven.
wiprusâ:
Every time a storm hit, it soothed something inside of Ophelia, the way it smelled, light being devoured by dark, the angry sounds of the thunder, as if us mere mortals had upset whatever higher power watched over them. If she hadnât been at work, she would have been sitting in front of her house, head tilting up, letting the drops hit her face, wash away the death that clung to her skin and let it be absorbed by the earth. She would bury that part of herself, until it was six feet deep, just another corpse to add to the list. A scent brings her back, lemons, and the feel of fabric makes her fingers stretch before she continues on cleaning the counter top.Â
The calm of the inside sheltered her from the chaos of outside, which was why she had decided to lend a hand, because usually she wouldnât have bothered with such a task, giving drinks to people who were swallowing their pain, or spewing it out, unless of course, they too were hydrating the demons inside of them. Only with them it was a flirty comment, a hand on her waist, sliding further down until fingers had curved against her backside. Funny how it was always the ones who claimed they went to church on Sunday, the ones who pulled out photos from their wallets to show their best friends their pride and joy. How could one sin and be virtuous at the same damn time?
Another customer had wondered in, taking refuge underneath their roof, a safe haven for weary travellers. For a moment she had blinked at them, eyebrows raising curiously as she tilted her head, âItâs goinâ.â She answered, drink automatically poured then given. Elbows put on the dark wood, waiting for some sort of confession, it wasnât Sunday but she might as well be a pastor, listening to those who felt burdened by life. But then a switch turned on, light entered and her eyes lit up, âHey, little lady.â Ophelia smiled down, her brain finally registering who it was. Aurora Bell, the girl that somehow brought out a protective feeling from her, pulled out of the depths of her damaged heart, maybe because she had reminded her that there was still innocence in the world and it couldnât be ruined.
Bringing out another cup, she fills it with water, slides it over, while giving Aurora a pointed look, âYou hungry? Whenâs the last time you ate?â But she didnât wait, she had moved to lean against the wall, whisper an order to the chef in the little window, pushed her fingers into her jeanâs pocket to pull out a couple bills to push under the register for later, âIf you donât eat it, then Iâll just have it on my break.â She paused a moment, got a fresh towel and plopped it down in front of the dripping girl in front of her, âYou want something actually warm? Wouldnât want to get my ass beat because you caught a cold under my watch.â Ophelia chuckled, as she returned back to her previous position, except this time she rested her chin on her fists. Good thing it wasnât busy, now she could give her full attention to making sure her friend was okay.
aurora's fingers tap against the wooden surface of the bar, in time with a small bit of music playing out of the jukebox near the back of the bar. when her friend speaks, she takes a glance around the bar, getting a good look at all the people who decided to spend their time submerging themselves in drink and mind numbing activities - the least amount of raucous activity she's seen in a while. the bar wasn't altogether overly crowded, and for that she was thankful, most people weren't out in the middle of a storm.Â
her, on the other hand, was generally one of the people that went out when it rains, something about reminding her of her childhood - back in the day playing in the downpours. though when lightning strikes, she was smart enough to go inside, and that's exactly what she had done. taking the towel that was proffered to her, she uses it to dry bits of herself, not wanting to catch cold - it's bad enough with allergy season out here in hope county, she can't imagine getting the sniffles. there was a slight chill that ran through her spine at first, but the interior of the spread eagle was comfortable enough that she wasn't worried - she was sure she could withstand to remain in the clothing she'd worn coming inside. "pretty borin', huh?" she says, taking another sip of the liquid, raised brows over the lip of the glass as she glances over to ophelia. the knowing look is all she needs before she musters up a laugh to escape her lips. "when's the last time you ate? how's about we share?"Â
she responds, a bright look in her eyes as she glanced back at the cook, gave a small wave over to them, to which they responded with a smile of their own. "no, no, i'm good," she says - glancing down at the only slightly damp material. the way it clung to her skin wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest, and aurora had spent enough time outside in the rain to know that it would dry soon enough. "i'm good, promise." she takes the glass of water and sips it slowly. "hell of a time for a storm though, huh?" aurora replies, listening to the sound of cracking thunder and the flash of lightning that could be perceived through the windows of the establishment. it sounded like it was going to rage on for a while, and she was glad to be inside. "i'm a big fan of storms, though,"Â
she says, absentmindedly, like she was lost in a memory for a moment, but quickly regains control of herself and glances up to ophelia. "see you got one of your favorite patrons over there," she says, referring to one of the men that constantly hit on her friend. she doesn't make a gesture, but she already knows that ophelia can tell who she means without having to glance in the person's direction. "he give you an extra big tip?" the words come out in a lower tone of voice, a hint of teasing laced within her voice. in turn brows raising up and down, smirk spread across her lips.
#same
time for a visit with the bestie. - @wiprus. thunder and lightning strike above her head, and aurora pulls her hood up and over, trying to keep herself as dry as possible from this downpour. it soaks into the ground almost immediately, making the dirt turn into a slick mud that cakes into the bottom of her boots, and she slips and slides a bit in her run. trying to dodge the rain drops has always been something aurora's gotten accustomed to - thinking she can outrun the incessant droplets, but alas, she knows she's doing absolutely nothing but soaking herself further. slipping into the spread eagle, she beelines it towards the bar, surprised to see that ophelia is working today. a bright smile spreads across her features as she saddles up to it and sits on one of the barstools, away from other potential patrons. pulling her hood down, she is overcome with the urge to begin shaking her head like a wet dog, drenching anyone that would dare come close. maybe that'll keep 'em off her. when ophelia comes over she presses a kiss to the tip of her fingers and places it on her friend's nose, an act of annoyance none the less but the other girl seems to allow it. aurora knows she's got a soft spot for her, and despite all that she's been through, ophelia is one of the only people she knows she can trust completely ( aside from scarlett, that is ). "how's your shift goin'?"Â
the brunette asks, tucking a dampened piece of hair back behind her ear before reaching for the glass ophelia has set down in front of her. she doesn't know what is in it, but trusts the other girl as she takes a sip. it's not whiskey - but moonshine. something she probably acquired from one of the people makin' it outta their home. thatâs just a little bit illegal though - but it'll do, and it warms her insides nicely. she can't have too many of these or she'll be in a coma, that's for sure.
lambflayedâ:
everyone who bitches about storms being bad weather have never experienced a good southern one. being cooped up indoors during it feels like a crime, but sheâs working through cleaning the bb gun her daddy gave her and sheâs humming to whatever song mamaâs got playing on the radio from the kitchen. the smell of bacon is as equally enticing as the slices of lighting cut across her curtain-less window. and then thereâs her little sister, storming in like sheâs on a mission. granted, she usually is. Â
              âget your damn hands outta my face, you cunt,â she hisses, rolling on to her stomach. admittedly, the bacon melts like butter on her tongue and the grumbling in her stomach is an echo to how hungry she already is. in spite of the curse, sheâs already grinning, ear to ear.
âsure, we can take the atvs out back. betâcha you canât make the jump,â scarlettâs already a whirlwind of motion, tucking her braided hair up under a ratty ball cap and shrugging on one of her jackets. two hops out the door and sheâs got her boots on when she hears rileyâs voice booming from the living room.
âyou girls gonna end up gettinâ struck by lightning one day,â he says, unsurprised by his daughters and their antics. âquit cursinâ âround your sister, scarlett ainslee.âÂ
but heâs all grins, too. a matching pair with scarlettâs.
âyeh, yeh. tell mama weâll be back in before dinner gets cold.â
âyou tell her yourself, kid.â
scarlett turns to aurora, holding her finger up against the tip of her own nose. ânot it. slowpoke gets to tell her, thatâs you, rori.â
sticking her tongue out with her pigtail flopping over her shoulder, scarlett bolts for the door.Â
aurora clambers up towards the front door, taking the time to pull on her jacket, slipping both arms into the sleeves before hearing her dad speak. she rolls her eyes in a very scarlett like fashion before responding. "only one'a us'll get hit by lightning. it doesn't strike the same spot twice, daddy," aurora retorts in a matter of fact tone, like he should have realized that already. reaching into the small side table she pulls out a ponytail holder and throws her hair up into a bun, attempting to run outside before being stopped. "why i always gotta...." she grumbles, but heads into the kitchen before too much can be said. "mama?" she asks, but her mother is busy at work fixing something to eat and doesn't give her all of her attention right away. aurora waits, patiently. she knows what happens if she goes and interrupts her mother when she's in the middle of something. shifting from one foot to another, the older woman finally glances down at her daughter, dusting her hands off on an apron she wears tightly around her midsection. "yes, angel?" "scar 'n i are goin' out to play. we'll be back soon, okay?" her mother leans forward to press a kiss against her daughter's head and ushers her out of the house, thankful for some quiet when the two girls aren't going at it with one another. aurora returns to the front door, tugs on her boots, and races out to the backyard where scarlett is already unlocking the shed. they have their own separate atv's, a gift from their father last christmas - but they still tend to fight over which one they get to use. not like they aren't exactly the same, but it's a sister thing, nonetheless. kicking a rock out of the way, aurora goes and tilts her head as she watches the doors to the shed pull open. "ya got the keys?" she asks, figuring scarlett would give some smart response in return. "do we gots enough gas in 'em? i think dad said there should be more in a can somewhere 'round here last time we tried to take 'em out." she says, once again, matter of factly. she can feel her sister rolling her eyes at her overly cautious nature. but when she gets on that atv, it's a whole other story. aurora is the chaotic one - she's absolutely flipped herself off at least a few times before....once leading to a sprained wrist when she landed wrong. "we gonna race?" she asks, eagerly.
we meet again, out here, in the woods. @aphostate. there is a lack of food in the house, and she figures why go out and waste money when she can simply hunt something for dinner that night. taking out her bow and arrow, she places it into the passenger seat of her vehicle before climbing in and turning over the ignition, heading to one of the more wooded areas. game is not heavily available in the whitetail mountains, but there is a few deer that frequent their area, but she's searching for smaller bits, rabbits, squirrels, anything she can potentially get. tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, she clambers out of the vehicle, stepping on a branch before leaning over to grab her bow and arrows. she's perched in one of the old tree stands left behind by the resistance, binoculars placed beside her, a bag of trail mix to her right. she reaches in and takes a small bite before the sound tiny footprints seem to hit her range of hearing, and she spots a bunny in the underbrush. taking her time - she readies her arrow, but just before she fires her shot - the sound of brisk, heavy footsteps can be heard and it goes wide, striking a tree a few feet above where the rabbit was located. cursing underneath her breath, aurora turns to try and make haste in realizing who it was that managed to sneak up on her, but they remain out of sight - for now. readying her bow, she aims it at the sounds permeating the air around her and releases a volley of quick arrows into the trees. one strikes the ground beside a boot, and she catches the sight of a man standing before her. a lump forms in the back of her throat. she recognizes him as one of jacob's men, his soldiers that are under his bidding, so to speak. "what do you want?"Â
she says, readying another arrow for in the event that he makes any sudden moves. her fingers twitch slightly, ready to release the projectile in his direction, but she waits to hear him out before doing so. if she were to strike first, that would no doubt send his wrath upon her, and potentially jacob seeking her out to force her into paying penance for her actions. "what'sa matter, you dumb or somethin'. i said what the hell do you want?"
this is a psa to say that i love @lambflayed with all of my heart and soul.
it's just a normal day where @lambflayed and i sit around and discuss scarlett's absolute full on love for cum. i mean. why not right? aurora and i agree, you go scarlett, embrace that hoe shit.
interrupting conversations to point at dogs in public