#oc writing

[bittersweetling]

Serpentine

Over the man’s shoulder, she’d locked eyes with Taran, smiled, and twirled her plaything around to let him watch the neon drip of sweat down the long, sinuous line of her bare back. Inoculation, a prelude to fever.

your favorite bd star's favorite bd star and her producer celebrate a very special anniversary. rated explicit, mind the tags

Read on Ao3

[blighteds-haven]

Author’s note : Something i wrote about Vivian and Greene based slightly on a dream I had—I spent a lot of time on this, but it is not the canon version of Vivian’s story, soooooo it’ll b rewritten soon)

“If you hurt her—I will kill him.”

Words that describe the catalyst’s creation Vivian in more ways than one.

The Catalyst is an entity originating from the Haven planet that classifies as a ‘lethal intelligence’ and apparently—as wildlife, killing anyone and reinterpreting them with the scraps of their body. Circulating, saw-like vortexes that play as the base in the Catalyst’s dark nest. This is their digestive system, when eating, it spins in a blur. The inner saws spin counterclockwise, opposing to the outer saws that spin clockwise. The center does not spin, there is an exposed surface that stretches tendrils to reach out to anyone unfortunate enough to fall in. When it grasps their body, they are pulled in and split apart. This process makes it easier to chew the flesh. Any unnecessary parts like hair, clothing, and teeth are used to create another living Catalyst entity. These entities do not feel emotion needed for a relationship, a camaraderie, or bond. They aim for one goal. Seek, lead, and feed. Find a healthy food source, lead them to the nest, and feed them to the Catalyst.

Vivian, however..

Vivian’s past life is hard to interpret, because after someone is fed to the catalyst, there’s really no way to tell who they used to be. Other than what they tell you.

Vivian, strolling away from the forest where Catalyst is ‘suspected’ to be located. It killed unnecessarily to the Catalyst’s goal. First, it was for clothes. Then, for a roof over its head, for no kingdom would have taken in a vagabond. Unless it were Timewatchers, the order authorities of the passage kingdoms.

Until she met Greene.

Greene was a troubled, neglected girl from the passage kingdoms. She found fascination with the way nature was attracted to Vivian, and decided to create a bond with her. Of friendship.

The more days they met, the more Vivian obsessively watched Greene. whether they were in the Theatre, the forest, the Zequoit gatherings, or Greene’s kingdom gates. Greene confesses her innocent, romantic feelings to Vivian. The Catalyst standing before her, agreed as well, until she revealed the dagger behind her back, holding her above the nest, in a gesture that resembled an almost tender ballroom dance as she twists the blade and leaves her to fall inside.

Since then, Greene was not reinterpreted as a person, but a voice in Vivian’s psyche.

[gunkygunk]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 18/? Fandom: Original Work, No Fandom Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Additional Tags: Zombie Apocalypse, Original Character(s), Found Family, POV Multiple, Angst, Forced Proximity, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Character Death, Near Future, Survival, British Character, Post-Apocalypse, Morally Ambiguous Character, Dystopia, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Female Protagonist, Drug Addiction, Grief/Mourning, First Love, Original Fiction Summary:

My dad and I were running out of food in a stranger's house when we met Ryan. Ryan had a kid with him. Well, not his kid. William. Nineteen, abrasive, a scar on his leg he wouldn't explain, and a Gorillaz shirt I accidentally stole the first night we met. We weren't supposed to stay together. I don't know what we are. I don't know what Will is– none of us have words for it yet. All of us are trying not to get mauled alive. I used to have it all. Three-million followers. I used to obsess over my skincare, my outfits, my posting routine, and whether my captions were landing. The apocalypse cleaned all that right up.

[crystalgastles]

Fear and hunger: The Angels wouldn’t help you

Hello everyone. I’m still going to be working on creepypasta stuff but I have been consumed by the fear and hunger brain worm. This is an oc story, enjoy.

I gripped the reins of my horse. Guided only by the spear at my back, snow falling delicately onto my veil. The army of black horses and soldiers dressed in funeral garb guided me to my almost certain death. My father rode beside me, staring at me with a disappointed disgust. He did not speak to me. The dungeons of fear and hunger parted the sky as it came into view. An ominous hum settling in my stomach, tears welling in my eyes as I looked to the man who raised me up from infant naivety to now. Refusing my betrothal in pursuit of my own freedom and knowledge.

I was hoisted off my horse by armed guards. Fingers digging into my sides as they avoided touching the careful beading on the bodice of my dress. They set in front of the entrance. Going to stand stoically by the unmarked graves. My father, mother, and brother standing away from the entrance cold expressions daunting me as if I were a common thief or whore set to be put to death at the maw of this pit of hell and despair. I looked to my mother again eyes pleading for her to do anything. She looked at me. Horrified sadness in her eyes but she looked away. She would always look away. Her own comfort was more precious to her than I would ever be. I straightened out my silk, standing up straight as I looked into their eyes. Scribes wrote fervently parchment scratching, ink wells perched on the carriage. My father spoke loudly and with an authority that rattled my bones.

“There is nothing you can do, that hasn’t already been done” I watched, the guard sliding the dagger across the perfect white of the horse I had grown to love since I was a child. Blood spilled across the porcelain expanse like wine on white sheets. A hand flew to cover my mouth, my foot turning behind me. I would not let them see me cry as I sped off into the dark. Distant howls causing goose flesh to litter my skin while I ran.

My stomach twisted. Lurching. An unnatural hunger gripped my entire body.

I slipped away mentally and tried to process my childhood pet being brought to its knees with one swipe of a blade. It was unnaturally cold, damp. the stone hitting on my shoes in loud clacks that were surely to be my undoing if I didn’t succumb to hunger or cold first. Shame. I had no weapon, no coat, nothing but a corset and a veil. Symbols of what I was to be buried in. My death shroud hanging heavy off of my shoulders.

I am punished by the same freedoms men take. Death permeated in my nose, flesh and bone reduced to dust but not before the flies and maggots had their fill. my eyes adjusted to the dark slowly, hanging vines gripped onto stone as I felt the warmth of tears finally fall down my face . They fell on a room with a dungeon fifth encrusted bed.

I pushed passed iron bars, my foot accidentally kicking a skull that lain on the floor. I collapsed, my hands gripping the rough cloth. My hair spilled over myself, the silk on the bottom of my dress ripping as I cried. Loud heaves that echoed on the stone walls. I stayed there for hours, alone, hungry and exhausted. The only sound my broken sobs that echoed off the stone.

I felt a boot nudge my side, terror wracking through my body as I launched myself backward, the kick sending an ache through my entire body I screamed the raw sound carrying on my ears and to whatever wanted to swallow me whole. I crawled backward, eyes closed as I tried to put distance between myself and whatever lurked in search of my blood.

“As if you couldn’t be any louder!” I went silent and looked up, torchlight illuminating the source of the boot. A human voice, a man tall skeletal, and long blonde hair with a dissatisfied and annoyed look on his face. Surly not his natural deposition. Stood in front of me. I wiped the tears from my eyes , standing up and backing against the wall as I straightened myself out“I apologize, I didn’t-“ he cut me off coldly and matter of factly “Not that I, care about your survival particularly. But do not sob so loudly. I’m surprised you haven’t been found by something brutish already.” He placed the torch on the wall, stepping past me to sit on the filthy bed, beginning to wrap his bleeding hand in cloth. Eyeing me with judgment ,he gave me no room to reply “you are also dressed ridiculously. Who comes here in gold ,corseted silk and lace? You’re like a shining beacon of flesh and bone.” I could sense he was annoyed with my presence, waiting for me to leave this room as if I wasn’t here first.

“I did not choose my garb as if it matters to you.” He looked as if offended by my audacity to even retort, eyes running over my embroidery with a clinical judgment.

“Rondon’s crowned jewel, Are you not?” He finished wrapping his hand, elegantly crossing one leg over the other. “Whatever have you done to get sent here? Do tell me before I send you back out to the guards. I have no need for a weeping princess.” His cruel mocking tone sent tears welling back up into my eyes. Already sensitive from my execution just hours before.

“I… do not tell me to go, whenever I found this place first.” I inched towards the door placing myself between the wall and his now rising form. “You did not ‘find’ this room. The endeavor you’re on pales in comparison to what I seek. You were not here before me as I doubt you’ve been here for more than a day seeing as you’re still alive and not a corpse I have to move to step over.” He loomed over me, gloved hand reaching out to grip my chin. “I suggest you leave now, before you attract anything else that might find your visage shiny enough to hang on the wall. Me along with it.”

The tears fell, I turned away to walk down the hall, no torch, no safe room. I eventually found an opening with a small stove and some tinderboxes. Rotted meat stared back at me while dug through different barrels and crates. Other disgusting pits forced me to dig my gilded arm into them looking for anything,I gathered whatever I could tie to me, makeshift purse just that. After the kitchen and dilapidated hallways I found a weapon finally.

A Scythe I had picked up that made me clumsy but would do. Days passed. I dropped things often, cursing when I could not find the dried meat or books I had gathered up from abandoned shelves as I clumsily evaded broken boards. Useless talisman I had found in a crate burning a hole where I could have kept something to actually help me.

My torch light illuminated the next hallway as I turned. My horse. My beautiful Troy. stood in the hallway. My dim flame illuminating his white hair and stomping foot. A motion he did when he wanted me to come closer. Soft grunts escaping his nose as I did so, reaching out my hands to pet his nose gently. He was alive. My hand scratched behind his ears. They flipped as I kissed his nose. Soft happy breathing sending warmth through my chest “What are you doing in here” I looked at his reigns, holding the leather in my hands. My eyebrows furrowed as I noticed his decaying ribs, the cracks in his body presenting gory, mushy flesh and maggots as he wheezed. Throat wound pulsating and gushing blood as he positioned himself to charge at me.

I stared in tearless horror. My mouth going dry as I tried to process the death that stood in front of me that was once so alive .I turned to run, my heart racing so fast it threatened to jump out of my throat. I ran. His echoing neighs hitting my ears in a sharp crescendo. “Why must you torture me so!” I looked behind me. Its legs bending and twisting in unnatural ways elongated by the bend of decay. Head bobbing off the slit with the force of its pace.

A Grotesque, large and angry face stared back at me when I turned sharply down another hallway. I backed away. Unsure of this tall hulking ogre or the phantom of my beloved horse. Deciding which one would be crueler to me. Pulsing shoulders , meat cleaver poised ominously forward as it drooled at me. It’s loud groan enough to send my ears ringing. Its eyes found my terrified expression with a hunger that defied my own.

The hand reached out as I brought down my scythe wildly, it into his… stinger. Blood splattered across my face as I pulled and swung again this time hitting it in the side of the neck. Its arms swinging to grasp at the iron. I pulled out of its body and ran, losing a shoe during my scramble.

It gave chase but I was faster. I ran, I ran until my lungs burned for air, I wheezed but kept running. I turned into a kitchen then a courtyard where bodies swung from their necks as I felt if they were looking at me with judgement. Limp limbs swinging in the wind as I swore I heard heavy footsteps closing in.

Flies buzzed around my head ,waiting for my eventual collapse. Grass stung my bare foot as I ran across rocks and a piece of broken glass, groaning as the shard pierced my skin and imbedded itself into the muscle. I kept running until I made it inside, a library opening up to me with rows of books and candle light.

I looked behind me, seeing nothing but dark. I ran into something with give, I gripped cotton and hair. We Toppled to the floor with a thud and a clatter. Curses rang out in the dark as I was pushed off what I ran into, my scythe clattering on the stone floor along with the contents of my tied on cloth. Familiarity rang out in the dark “idiot!”

I finally got a look at my foot, the cracked and bleeding skin around the shard stung as I pulled it out of my flesh blood pooling between my fingers. A hand wove its sharp bony fingers into my hair, pulling upward to force me on my injured foot. “Do you have an enchantment to inconvenience me at every turn or are you just idiotic enough to think I’d help you?” He looked at the spilled contents of my bag on the floor with a grip still on my hair as I reached up to push against his chest.

His grip only loosened when his eyes found the wretched talisman that I held onto for just maybe a semblance of protection. “And where did you find this?” He almost whispered as he let go of my hair to reach for it. I darted towards it, holding it in my grasp as he reached for me. I limped away from him holding it close as if it were to disappear within my grip.

“Why? Why do you have use for it?” I watched his expression, as I still turned my head sharply behind me to check for the monster that had just led me here. He huffed in frustration, stepping closer to me.

“You have no clue what you hold do you?” I shook my head no, still holding it to my chest as if it were a precious gemstone. He put one hand up as if to show he was not going to retort sharply.

“Give it to me, I will trade for it. You need more supplies, no?” I squinted, pulling the talisman closer to me “you seem like you know what you’re doing. This is worth more than a few pieces of meat and a torch.” His face twisted in annoyance, then retracted. “Royalty who knows how to barter, how quaint. You are smarter than I thought you were.” He looked down at my bleeding un-shoed foot and let out something between a dissatisfied sigh and a laugh. “You will die here if you don’t come up with a counter, princess” I swallowed, my mouth dry and aching for anything to eat. I looked him up and down for the first time, noting his robes that of a dark priest. “Allow me companionship. I will hand this over to you if I can travel through this place with you.” His face fell from unexpressed apathy to a conflicting snarl.

“Allow you… companionship?” He seemed to toss over the words in his mouth waving a hand at me “you in your, gaudy pearls and gems? It suggests certain death but you… have traversed this place so far with nothing but a cut foot and malnourishment.” He came over to me placing a finger on my jaw to push it towards the side. Examining me with careful intent. “You seem to have a luck about you. Nothing I can place just yet.”

I stepped back. Breath shaking and uncertain. “So?” He grabbed my hand, uncurling my fingers and taking the talisman for himself.

“Don’t become a more of a nuisance than you already are.” I watched him walk to a candle lit corner sitting down with a book no doubt found on one of these shelves as I limped over to him, sitting on the floor by his feet as I finally got to catch my breath, nursing my injured foot with my already unsalvageable tote. He sighed, slamming the book shut and pulling a vial out of his own bag. It shone a bright almost sky blue as he popped open the cork. “Drink this, it will help with your injuries, Also find another shoe. You can pull one off a corpse when we leave.” He placed it in my hand and I drank. The liquid burning my throat as it slid down but it eased the sting where the glass shard once sat. He took the vial from me after I was finished. Quiet fell over the library where only my harsh breathing was heard.

“So, you never did tell me how you ended up here” his tone was more curious than it was concerned, his eyes raking over me more thoroughly than they had before. Like he was trying to figure out why I was still breathing. I turned to face him, taking the pins that held my veil in place out of my hair and resting the delicate lace on his knees. “This is my execution. I refused the man I was to marry as I was promised my father’s throne as a child and did not want to give it up for a slobbering oaf.” I pointed to the embroidery, a woman standing on a wide open valley where the clouds parted.

“This is not a declaration of my wealth, but a funeral shroud” I looked up at him. “My portrait will be hung on the opening gates. My diary read out loud in the town square, My final words written on tapestries. My father will collapse on my mourning alter, begging to be taken with me. All the while he held the spear to my back that brought me here. People will ask, how didn’t we know? How could we have changed her mind? How could we have saved her? But they were the ones who put me to death.” he stared tentatively at the gold and maroon lace, picking it up off of him and handing it back to me. “Hm.” I could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, book still closed in his lap. “I didn’t think a king to be so, primitive in his thinking. To lie blatantly to you as a child obviously causes the naivety I see in your thought processes. However your will to live is fascinating.” He extended a gloved finger, pushing hair from my face.

I felt the leather of a glove grip my wrist. “Let go of me, my dumb luck has gotten me this far.” I tried pulling my hand away but something other than his grip kept me in place. His voice was cold, and Matter of fact. “ I said, you could prove useful. The things I point out are just that. We had an agreement and you should allow me keep my end of the deal.” I relented, taking my place back by his feet “do not assume I lack any knowledge of my own.” He looked back to me, expressionless except for a quick flip of his eyes.

[yourbestpalpercy]

By popular demand (my gf, who has birthday privileges)

[yourbestpalpercy]

Okay back to Toontown posting

[melliemal]

18+

boy next door, enemies to lovers, best friends' cousin, late night rendezvous, ex-situationship.

TW/ Consensual Non-Consent. Fingering.

Friday nights. I was here almost every Friday night. Yet, every Friday night, I forget how impossibly hot Sophias room was. Dutch oven hot. On a 90 degree day as she spread butt naked across her bed. Not a single drop of sweat dripping from her body whilst puddles formed on mine.

I was not staying down here.

I got up and made my way upstairs to the living room. Laying across the couch, I sigh deeply.

What a relief. The breeze from the fan cooled my thighs while my left foot sat on the back of the couch and my arms reached above my head.

Right as I'm slipping into a deep sleep, the stairs creak. I start to close my legs, but I stutter, slowly reaching my legs back out. The steps slow and come to stop. Seconds pass until they continue into the kitchen.

Lights flick open and fridges get raided through. He was loud but not too loud to wake me, if I wasn't already awake. He coughs. The water runs and he pours himself a drink and sips it quickly, each gulp loud and obnoxious.

His breathing quickens and I hear a few grunts and groans before the sound of his fists slamming startles me. I groan and turn my body away. My ass pointed in his direction with full intentions on enticing him.

"Are you really going to sleep there?" He says in a dark tone. The lump in my throat releasing a sigh of unconsciousness. "You're not sleeping."

I stay still. His presence making me freeze under pressure. Turning my head from side to side, I bump my hips slightly to keep the illusion. My deep breath is stifled by the sensation of his fingers running up my leg.

Slow and steady, closer and closer to my thighs as I squeeze them together softly. "Mmmm" I hum, reaching down and swatting him away.

"Why are you up here?" he asked.

"I'm sleeping." I say between pillows. Looking back, his eyes linger on my body.

"And you're naked," he says. I look down at my pajamas with scrunched brows. His reaches down and tug on my shorts, "You're basically naked."

"No, I'm not." I shake my head. He knew what he was doing. Teasing me in the dark, moonlight bouncing off his skin.

He sits beside me. I kept my mean face on, even though it wasn't affecting him. One of his hands traced circles on my belly before slowly trailing up my torso.

As if I were naked, he found my nipple between his fingers. "April, I'm looking at you right now. And seeing every single inch.

I blush a pout out him. He knew that I was a sucker for his hands touching me like that. His muscles gleaming in the night light as he pinched and pulled longingly at my chest.

He stayed there with both hands rubbing me down. Watching, I bit my lip to him trailing down my shorts.

"mmm," my fingers reached for his wrist in hopes he wouldn't stop but take it slow. He looks at me, a different gaze in his eyes then most nights.

He was usually cold, avoiding my motives to seduce him. What was different tonight. The feeling of his index finger dipping into my pussy made me arch my back,

I watched, keeping myself tucked away into the couch. Mummering, I tried not to moan but also attempting to turn him on. More than he was already. He was slow, gentle even. Rubbing my lips and finding my sensitive areas.

"Wayne. I-" I start to plead.

His hand quickly finds my mouth, "Shhhh, they'll hear you." My eyes roll back and his grip tightens. Pleads spill from below his palm while his other hand works wonders deeper than I could possibly imagine.

One finger causing my hips to lift slightly. A pit in my stomach growing wider as I start pushing myself against him. Slowly yet surely grinding faster until he added another finger to finish me off.

I call out his name in hopes he'd slow down but that only angered him. "Keep your mouth shut." My eyes water and my toes curl trying to control myself.

"Pl-ease" I muffle as he shifts his hand from mouth to my neck. My shorts wrapped around my thighs restraining me while he folds my legs up and leans into my face.

This wasn't the same man who refused to let me sit on his lap. I can't even kiss him for too long but now that I'm trying to move on, he wants to do everything I dreamt about.

He kept his pace, fast and ridged as I stare at him in shock. I could feel myself soaking the cushions. I couldn't believe he was doing this, but I just couldn't stop myself. It felt so good, like he was reading my mind.

My thoughts collecting as he smiles and removes himself from over me. Laying there in a mess, I panic and look up at him. And unlike the sweetheart he was when we were together, that cold illusion of him disappeared into the dark.

let me know what you think. Byeeeeee