Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Hello and welcome! If you’ve gotten here then you already know what you’re in for — I’ll keep it short! I’ve compiled together all of these smutty smutty excerpts and the juicy journal entries relevant to the time I wrote them for your viewing pleasure. 

“Hardcore” is no joke! I want to make it clear to any sophont who isn’t here for something intense—the Affini do not do the things I describe in my stories. Their public messages are true and they really, really, love us. 

If you ever see text in italics or in a journal entry, you’ll know it’s the real me. If you ever see things that make my smut seem real, that’s because I’ve edited it to include common floret turn-ons and just a little more accuracy.  I won’t spoil the tale any worse than that. Please enjoy the meanderings and true story of a very freaky floret.

—

Why would they wait?

The question had no good answer for the ones that descended from the skies in Terra’s towns and villas; no good answer at all. 

The humans couldn’t match them — humans were just meatbags, in comparison to them. Their eyes were blind to the silhouettes landing silently in their backyards and back alleys. Their bodies were limited and messy; their minds simple and narrow. 

Why would the Affini wait to claim what they wanted? Why would they focus upon war, when their prize was awaiting in sheltered neighborhoods and quiet apartment complexes? 

Why not strike now? Why leave the poor things waiting for their fates, wasting their fear and joy on anticipation, and not their true purposes?

There was no good answer, the Affini concluded — the humans couldn’t stop them. It was better for the poor things to accept their purpose now, before they could struggle. It was better to take the humans quiet and still in the night.

Serena was supposed to be one of the good girls, yet she’d asked that same question of herself anyway: Why wait? 

Why seek a productive life and a family when she already had the money and the freedom? What stopped her from drinking herself silly and barely paying attention to her college courses? What stopped her from fucking whoever she pleased and leaving before the morning? Why care? 

Her parents and all the other rich motherfuckers on this planet had already ruined it. All that was left was-

There was barely a creak at Serena’s window. Her churning stomach was ironically helpful in chasing sleep away. Stars, she’d drank so much. Usually she didn’t do that on her own but she didn’t have Emma to drink with, now did she? 

Fuck that whore anyway. All she did was slow Serena down. The faster that she burned out, the better. She didn’t need some big handsome bitch to make her start caring about shit again, let alone telling her how much she should drink.

“Urph… Ugh…” She meant to sleep through this part. She knew the rules. Sleep on your side in case you throw up, beer before liquor, never sicker, and… Whatever the fuck the other rules were. The rest of them were probably for pussies. Something at the back of her skull was itching… 

Oh yeah, the hair tie. She remained uneasy, senses dulled but sharpening — like she’d heard something. The nearby city’s lights trickled in through her window and overpowered the cool moonlight. The noises were quieter here in gated communities. Was there a draft? 

The window wasn’t open, though. It wasn’t always safe to keep the window open. Serena would never leave it cracked. Why did she feel a chill and smell flowers in the air? The garden was two floors down, but the trees were rustling as if they were in the room with her.

Serena tried to pull herself up, considering the benefits of making herself vomit. It would make sleeping her drinks off way easier. As she did, something pushed against her weight more than normal. 

Like something under the bed, shifting along with the pressure of her elbow. 

A loose sheet, smooth and cool, slid slowly off of her leg. Serena squinted in the darkness, recalling she hadn’t fallen asleep with anything but her clothes, but- 

There were no sheets on the bed. Nor fallen off of it. Her body clumsily interpreted the tingling of her nerves. Had there been a big bug on her? Or a snake? Snakes hadn’t gotten any more common here, even if the whole planet had gotten hotter. 

Underneath the upset of alcohol, adrenaline bubbled in her gut, waving warning flags she couldn’t read. Were her senses sharp, perhaps she would hear that the rustles were beneath her own bed. She would hear a pulsing rhythm. She would smell a scent too sweet to be distant. 

Why wait? Why leave such a pretty little thing in suspense, eyes slowly blinking as she tried - adorably - to comprehend the danger she was in? Why wait at all? The fruit was already falling from the branch. Time to snatch it.

“Hello, sweet girl. Are you feeling well? I smell poison on your breath.” Said something from somewhere. Something… Wonderful. Serena almost leaned into the voice like it was her latest fling’s, warmth creeping into her from nowhere. 

“Emma-?” Serena mumbled gently. 

Her breath hitched. She jerked back onto her knees and a grimace gritted her teeth. Serena didn’t just hate that girl for the way she’d made her feel, no — Emma wasn’t here. She’d made sure of that. She should have been alone.

Fear finally surged up alongside the nausea. Who the fuck was in her room? 

She pushed back against her sheets and tried to scramble closer to the corner, but the bed shifted underneath her, following her movement to pin her against the corner. “Wh- What are you- We have cameras, you know!”

“The cameras aren’t on, sweet girl, don’t worry your head about those. Why poison yourself so badly, dear? Don’t you feel sick?” The voice asked. 

The voice wasn't soft at its core and sharp at the edges like Emma’s, if she really listened. It was whispery and deep and feminine and underneath her — Under her bed. That was ridiculous. She had to be dreaming. She just couldn’t tell which way was up. 

“Poison? ‘m just drunk—Who the fuck—Get out of my house!” 

She felt her head spin and her heart race as neurotransmitters battled each other, leaving behind only the fear freezing her still. She should… Her thoughts swirled off for a moment before she remembered she could scream for help. 

Then her thoughts faded entirely as black tendrils slipped up the sides of her bed, and a glimmering eye softly split open the darkness. “Yoo-hoo~” 

The instinct to scream found its grip on Serena. Then her chance to run ended. 

The tendrils surged forth. Slippery, smooth, striated. Clinging to Serena’s skin and wrapping up her limbs. She was yanked from her position like a puppet on strings. 

The vines pulled her body aloft and pushed her face down. The scream caught in her throat, replaced by encroaching vomit. 

Dizzy, afraid, and confused, she murmured “Oh my fucking-” before losing her voice again.

“Shhh, little sophont. You’re awfully distressed, aren’t you?” The voice asked. 

It was everywhere. The voice was in every vine — every leaf that brushed her skin. In a heartbeat, she was in a forest that hurt her. The heady scent of pine and the scratch of needles against her skin forced her stomach to clamp back down. Those needles could plunge into her with ease.

Her muscles tensed hard and seized. She was facing down towards her crumpled sheets, hung up by vines. This wasn’t like trying to balance when she was wasted. This was like being thrown at a wall. She wanted to vomit so badly. 

“What the fuck—No no no no no-” Her stomach began to clench again. A vine reached to her throat and brushed it, easing the gag reflex. 

“Don’t go doing that yet, little thing. I haven’t even heard your name, and you want to empty your insides on me? Don’t be so rude. Try to focus for me; and don’t scream. Everyone else is sleeping peacefully.” The voice thrummed. The needles twitched with it. 

It wasn’t the 2000s anymore. People knew there was life in the universe aside from humans and the animals on earth. Those thoughts were for scientists and politicians debating how best to ease tiny little Rinans into a more generous form of indenture.

This wasn’t an alien. It was a monster. 

“Pl- Serena. My name’s Seren-” 

The reflex won. Serena heaved and-

A vine rushed to meet her jaw, and yet another invaded her mouth . The vine pushed through her lips as her jaw was forced open, her throat stretching with the fullness of it. Her body gagged and heaved — not designed for something like this. 

The vine was slithering inside her. Deeper. Deeper yet.  She felt the coarse sting of its coursing folds on her esophagus. She could feel a sick twist as it plunged into her stomach. 

It didn’t hurt like it should have. Her chest throbbed.

“Shhh… Thank you for telling me. Shall I help you with what is inside? I can make removing it easier.” 

Unbidden, pressure cramped her insides. Her jaws ached as something pulsed through the vine, through the space between and down her throat. A heat hit her stomach like a strong drink, then plunged into cold relief. Sweet, sweet relief for the twisting nausea. 

Then, it got so, so much worse. 

The nausea redoubled. It consumed her thoughts in dizzy whirls. 

She could feel her stomach and intestines bulging, her guts writhing. 

She shouldn’t feel herself slithering inside, shouldn’t feel her heartbeat through every inch of intestine, shouldn’t feel the softness of her liver against her other parts. Out, out out OUT was all she could think with every cell.

“That’s it dear Serena. Let it go. Just let me empty you out.” 

The pressure on her jaw and in her insides retreated with the vine, leaving drool trailing from her lips. Her entire world spun like a centrifuge with her guts at the center of it. She let up a burp. It tasted like flowers. 

Then Serena finally vomited. A vine curled up against her stomach and rubbed it gently, and she emptied it. She’d felt the retching desperation of hurling up too much alcohol before — this felt effortless. 

It felt like her whole being was flooding out of her throat. A sweet slime filled her mouth and poured out in gouts. It tasted like roses. Like strong perfume, making her head spin and her body sick.

Nothing in her body felt right. She tried to focus on her thoughts, on her limbs, on her spine, but all she could feel was the pressure of her insides flooding out of her. 

She watched as the featureless blue goo slopped into a puddle on the sheets beneath her. Her head had just been there a minute ago, her mind supplied uselessly. Her stomach clenched rhythmically, and more poured out of her.

How was there still more to vomit? Wasn’t she empty already? Had she spit up some part of her? Was the rest of her just going to melt away and slip out of her mouth?

“It’s alright sweet girl. You’re safe now. You’re all done.” The voice promised. 

The heaves eased away. Serena gasped for breath, hitching and hiccuping and silently praying it was over.

Her intestines crawled and tightened back into their normal, comfortable arrangement. Then they filled with metallic disgust at the feeling of her insides moving..

Her mouth felt sweet, like she’d eaten a bucket of candy. Her throat didn’t burn, but her stomach still hurt. She gasped for breath. Had she been able to breathe even once that whole process? Her head swam with exhaustion, and it felt like she’d lost half her mind in the process. She could barely remember where she was. 

“I’ll get you clean, don’t you worry. I know you’re tired.” 

Tendrils slithered into her mouth, prompting a pained, halting grunt. She never wanted anything inside her mouth again. She didn’t want to feel something inside her like that. But they wiped away the mess. They cleaned her chin and made the taste fade a little. 

She wanted to ask why. She wanted to scream. Her body was limp and the fear was a burning ember hanging in her gut while all else had been ejected. She whimpered instead. Tears were already dripping from her face. 

“Oh you darling . Did you not like that part? I’m so sorry, but it only gets worse~ I have many things I want to do with you before I take you home. I have to see what my new floret’s little body handles best.” 

The voice was so sweet. Serena had heard a thousand fake bitches sweet talk men into buying them drinks. But she still shook her head, a silent plea for that sweetness to be real. As if this creature was capable of it. 

“I’ll take you slowly from here. I have something for you. It will take away all the bad feelings and make sure that you never feel alone again. Don’t you like that idea?”

Something about the words hummed and harmonized and made the heartbeat in Serena’s abdomen feel like it was just part of something greater. It was all around her. Like the plants were reaching inside her and making her sway to a breeze. 

Never alone again? She was already never alone. Not fucking alone for long. 

Except on nights like this. 

Except when her family insisted that only she could help herself. 

Stars, she fucking hated being alone. She hated it so badly. Hated it more than every day she spent sober. 

Her insides squirmed as the epinephrine inside her made new pathways in her brain. Never alone? Some part of her whispered.

“I knew you’d like it. I can smell it. Taste it. Every sophont feels a little lonely without a proper keeper. Now, now, don’t cry. I’d like you to save your tears for this next part.” 

Serena wasn’t crying. She’d fucking thrown up. She wasn’t drunk anymore because this freak of a fucking plant had made her throw up until her insides hurt and her brain was broken. The tears on her cheeks were all its fault.

Another tendril pressed upward on her forehead, and her head was pulled up just enough to see something in the dark. 

A lump of plant matter. Like a bloated leaf, with points of bioluminescence pulsing along its sides, and tendrils hanging limply from its edges. Some sort of organ, or… bug? 

The plant’s vine on her jaw gently opened her mouth again. The lump- the thing was lifted toward her. 

It was lifted toward her mouth. That long, thick, bulbous lump covered in sinuous threads like nerve fibers was pressed to her lips. 

It didn’t even let her scream. She let out the smallest yelp before two vines kept her teeth from clenching and the thing was pushed into her mouth.

Serena thrashed. She finally fought, with what little was left of her body’s independence and her mental energy. 

 She had to get free. She had to bite down, had to hurt something and had to cry for help until the nightmare ended or someone, anyone saved her. 

The vines tightened until her jaw clicked painfully, her limbs screamed to overcome vice-like pressure, and she could not move. 

Her breath cut off as the sweet-tasting, squishy thing pushed onto her tongue. Her throat - rebelliously - swallowed. Pure reflex. Maybe the plant already ruled that part of her. Her insides were full of heat and twitching. 

“Mmm, you are oh-so-cute when you’re struggling, aren’t you? Do you want to stay real?” The vines gave just the tiniest bit as Serena breathlessly and hopelessly tried to scream.

“Maybe if you can break free, you’ll get to be people, still. Maybe this lovely piece of me won’t replace you.” 

Serena gave this thing her tears. She gave it every attempt to gag and vomit on command she’d built up over enough drinks that it was finally about to kill her. 

Her insides did not respond. They woke up — felt primed. They were waiting for this. 

Her throat stretched painfully with the mass of the thing, tickling with the strands that dragged along its sides. It wasn’t too big for her throat, it was going too far . It wasn’t supposed to just keep going. The pressure felt wrong, and then her insides shifted, and the pressure released. 

Stars no, it was already inside her. 

Stars, she could feel her guts gurgling with hunger for this thing.

 Stars, please, let her out. 

“But that’s always why you’ll lose, isn’t it? Maybe if your little bodies and minds were worth keeping, they wouldn’t be so easy to replace, now would they?” She was a person, she had to stay a person.

“You’d be much better at fighting your instinct to let it in. You were made for this, even if you didn’t know it yet, Serena.”

 How could it say things like that in that voice? The one that almost sounded like Emma. The one that felt like silk against her skin and cotton candy on her tongue, vibrating through the vine that pushed the lump deeper. 

“This is where it will be worst, dear. Then you’ll never wake up to recall it. Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” 

Serena couldn’t die yet. She was still young, and still had time to fuck up. 

That’s what she really thought, under all that fear and all that nihilism. She was too young for her chance to be gone already.

“Just let go.” The plant echoed around her, her insides twisting in time as the lump reached her stomach. Right at her core, underneath her ribs. 

Her face fell slack as she realized the chance was never going to come.

The lump sparked to life. The vines retreated. The tendrils and roots of it clung to every inch of her flesh, leg by leg, crawling into her. She could feel where it gripped. Where it pinched through her stomach and reached for her spine. 

The vine never left her mouth. No scream she could make would ever leave her room. That thing, the implant, was squirming and digging its way into her. It pressed a root into her intestines. It reached its antennae into her heart.

 Dozens of sparks flashed through her as its every leg lashed itself to her spine like a cicada clinging to a tree trunk. It had her. She could feel it inside her and with every little lashing she could feel its nerves shivering her limbs and her facial muscles. 

It wouldn’t let her go. The plant, this stars-damned nightmare of a plant was staring into her eyes. 

Its own eyes were so pretty. 

Like flame and like ink. 

Like gold coins and tilled soil.

 It wouldn’t let her go. She was its. 

She didn’t need to believe that; she felt it in every nerve that suddenly winked out, every sensation that disappeared from the tips of her fingers and from the folds of her insides. 

She didn’t want it, but what was she anymore? The forest all around her pricked her with needles. Her legs went numb. Her fingers went numb. Her face went slack. She didn’t feel the vine slide off her limp, swollen tongue and didn’t feel the drool drip down her chin.

Her spine spasmed, but only out of sheer reflex. Sight winked out. Hearing and taste and texture. Even her emotions were dulling and slipping away, leaving her feeling…

She didn’t know how she felt anymore. 

She knew who she was but—what was she? Where was she? How was she, when her only memory of a body was slowly fading into the refractions of a precious little lump of sensation against her spine? 

She still felt a little dizzy. A little buzzed. That feeling was familiar. A nice little buzz. A nice little hint she wouldn’t be herself for too much longer. She could trust that. 

Serena felt the lump snuggle up against her spine and start to pump her organs on its own. She felt her heart beat in time; two more beats, before it too felt gone. Her spine tingled a little bit more. Then she was just-

A little buzz in a big body. That body was being held. How nice. The buzz went back to sleep. Maybe she’d remember whose body it was when she woke back up.

—

September 16th, 2551

Fuck me, I have no idea why I wrote that last night.

I don’t know, the Affini were one of the last things we were hearing about before the comms went dark. Wish they hadn’t stuck in my head so bad. 

I know it’s all bullshit. The Rinans are barely half our size, and the suits back home want us to believe the new aliens are giant shapeshifters that replace your brain, or enslave your soul, or eat you alive, or something?

It all just sounded hot to me. Maybe even just to spite Terra. I should probably delete my smut if I ever actually meet one. 

Doubt I will. Might never make it off this rock now.

Tatiana made sure we’ve got enough to keep this place going for however long we need. Sure, our diet is gonna narrow down to whatever we can grow in hydroponics eventually, but at least for a few years we have preserved stuff on hand.

 George wants to figure out some ways to make the nutrient cubes taste better. Good fucking luck, George!!! I’d rather let them rot--not that a microplastic excuse for food can really rot. 

I don’t know, I still think help is coming sooner than that. 

The Rinans never really put up a fight. Poor fuckers just got stomped into the dirt. There were a few months of Terra saying that they were fighting the Affini before the meteor storm hit and took out communications. Doesn’t mean it’s going to last much longer. 

 Someone will remember we’re missing. People aren’t worth that much to a mission like this, but our equipment is. Hilova will still want this planet. They never let up on value they could be abusing. 

… but it’s been a while now. No point in acting like the next time I glance at the sky that some shuttle will be coming down to save us. 

Not the dumb bushes or the overblown apes or those poor fuzzy little fuckers. If anyone’s looking for us, they don’t know what to look for yet. 

When your whole comms array gets completely wiped off the map with no replacement, you get lost for a while. Better we set up for a longer haul on our own than we expected. 

Ugh, work could be worse though, honestly. 

I like knowing how this planet functions. There’s no real life on it, but we keep finding all the precursors. Polycarbonates, complex chemical reactions, enough carbon and oxygen.

I wonder if the jackasses at Hilova weren’t scanning so hard for a resort world of their own, we could’ve given this place a few million years and found some little bacteria and protists crawling around on it. 

Terraforming isn’t really necessary, but breeding the plants to live here will be really hard. Roman has his work cut out for him with the shitty ‘soil’ composition. I’ve got some ideas for what could be spliced in but well - if we gotta rely on those plants for food, I don’t wanna go experimenting right now. 

 I don’t really wanna be stuck here. Not if no one else is showing up. Space has been real fucking empty and the whole point was for someone else to come here and give me a life again. 

I knew Hilova would keep finding ways to fuck me over here and there. Never imagined the universe would serve me the biggest middle finger yet all by itself. 

 Not gonna let myself panic. The solar power is plenty to keep us going for - well our whole lives if that’s what it takes. 

 I don’t know these people, really. The trip wasn’t by jump, so we were sleeping the whole way here. I think I trust Roman at least, cause he likes to stay focused on the work like I do. 

Tatiana has taken charge whereas the company rep, Alan, just kinda froze up. I like that it’s her, but now Alan just takes it as an excuse to argue with her instead of doing things. Along with everyone else who has an opinion.

Things have calmed down for now, and everyone’s got something to do. I like that sort of thing a whole lot more than having to hear arguments from across the entire encampment.

It’s like people say, though. The waiting is always the worst part. I hate not knowing when I’ll get to go back. No wonder I’ve started writing alien plant smut. Gonna see if I can’t give it a ‘review’ to put myself to sleep.

Iyla Kaziev

Chapter Text

Trust me, you don’t wanna hear the old name I gave the Affini. It sucked real bad.

—

The buzz just continued. She’d always liked that buzz. It was almost nice. She felt movement. Got impressions of colors and shapes. She felt prickling. 

Here and there, she felt like she should be feeling other things. Felt frightened of the emptiness and the dead weight of… This thing she was in. How had she liked the buzz if she was it? 

What was she? Where was she? Serena reminded herself of her name. She was real. She was still real. 

The buzz got stronger. She got bigger. It was sweet relief, even if she had no idea how long it had been. Her memories re-contextualized. She could feel her head, then her spine, then her face. Oh stars, she was a person again. She really was real. She- 

Her face was smiling. Her eyes flooded back into the space of her brain, and she saw an overgrown room. Not just overgrown, made from vegetation. 

Why was she smiling? How was she standing up, if she’d only just woken back up? She felt a twitch coming in her face…

She just didn’t twitch. Her grin didn’t relax. 

Her eyes - her eyes weren’t moving with her urge to search the room, just listing across the flowers hanging from the ceiling. She felt some sort of warmth in her chest, but she couldn’t possibly feel that way. 

She urged cold fear and panic to shoot down her limbs, and it seemed to just stir and well up inside her head; the sheer terror of a nightmare, where your brain tried to remind you what fear was meant to feel like. 

Serena was trapped. She was back in her own head and she was trapped in it. 

She tried to thrash, tried to twist and writhe and tear her muscles just so they would move, and nothing twitched at all. She felt herself relax a bit and take a deep, lovely breath. 

The sensation was so discordant with the urges in her soul that she wished she could vomit again, wished she could retreat back into a tiny little buzz that didn’t quite know what was missing.

“Do you feel better now, my dearest?” That voice asked. That fucking voice, that one that had made her think of Emma and then ended her. 

Serena screamed at her body to run, and instead she turned eagerly towards the voice. Her grin got wider—stars, why was she smiling?? 

She saw the monster that had trapped her in this useless hunk of meat, finally lit by low light filtered through greenery. 

It was half-human. Or rather, it appeared like it was. Its upper body took the shape of a graceful, genderless torso, the arms trailing off into intertwined vines, the hips taking shape just before dissolving into a nest of vines and branching, needled fronds. 

Its face was harsher than a human’s, an approximation of a monster’s face formed from jagged wood, slanted back like the head of an axe.

Its eyes… Still so pretty it should have frozen her heart solid; but it was beating steadily, full of warmth. They glowed with that blend of color that Serena still couldn’t quite recognize. 

Instead of screaming or raging or condemning, Serena felt her lips lazily part as her head tilted off to the side. “Yes, Master. I don’t remember what was wrong, but I feel awake now!”

Serena almost felt herself dive back down into nothing. 

Please, please let her still be dreaming. She wanted to wake up so badly. 

She’d felt those words on her lips, heard her own voice the same as it always sounded when she wanted to seem all small and cute for some guy. 

She’d felt the surge of joy down in her belly when she’d slowly blinked at that horrible fucking weed. The feeling didn’t reach back to her in any way, leaving her feeling completely insane. 

She was being puppeted down to every cell in her body. Why the hell could she still feel like herself underneath it all? Why was she left to…

The creature’s eyes glimmered. It wasn’t a shift in the light. 

No, no, its expression shifted to become just a little more smug. 

A little more satisfied. 

Serena’s fury died out, and she could feel herself slipping into a deep, dark pool of liquid fear.

She was being tortured.

“I’m glad you feel better, dear. Though, I think for today, you should refer to your master as ‘Master Selag,’ not simply ‘Master.’ You certainly wouldn’t mind that for a day, would you?” It asked.

It looked into her eyes and Serena just knew that it was looking at the real her. It wanted her to know the thing that had destroyed her.

“Of course not, Master Selag!” Serena’s body surged with elation, washing against the edges of her horrid little pool. She would not say that. That wasn’t her. 

“Good little Noxxy.” Selag replied, and the elation just got stronger and stronger. 

Serena clung to her misery and fear, trying not to think about the sheer pleasure her body experienced from the monster’s praise. That was not her name, that wasn’t even a fucking name!

“Now, I know that you’re already feeling a little tired, my Noxia. Do you still think you’re ready for tonight’s conditioning?” The monster asked. 

The joy shifted and hardened inside her gut. This one was hard to understand, until her heart beat faster with the slightest delay.

“I can do it, Master Selag! I’m a brave little giblet!” Noxia replied. 

She bounced on her tip-toes as she did, as if there was one single thing right about any of this. As if she was so happy being nothing but a tiny piece of meat. 

She wasn’t real, Serena was. 

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Noxia could not be real. 

“Good girl,” Selag confirmed. “Come here and sit on my lap. We're going to give you a little pampering to work you up towards the real thing, okay?” 

Oh wonderful. Serena had already been sure it could get worse. This monster just wanted to make her really wallow in that anticipation. 

She did a little hop. Whoever this Noxia was, she was practically a child. She scampered over to Selag’s side and was lifted by a dozen vines to lay face down on its lap. 

She snuggled down into the floral mass and nuzzled up against any vine she could touch. Serena screamed at this fucking idiot in her head to run. To struggle, to fight. 

Noxia couldn't hear her at all. She was stuck writhing inside. This was supposed to be her body, and Noxia was lying it here in a soulless sadist’s lap. 

She'd closed her eyes. The dark in there was impenetrable. 

In there, everything around her was Selag. 

Serena tried so hard to become smaller and tighter, to pull her panic into a tight little bundle. 

Something sharp touched Noxia’s back, and she and Serena gasped as one. 

Serena wished her traitorous stomach would churn. That surprise had felt like both of theirs. She never wanted to share anything with this fiction of a ‘giblet.’

The sharp objects - a whole fan of prickles - slowly drew down her spine. 

Oh stars, the feeling it sent through her stolen body. Serena's back tensed, and she felt Noxia purposefully arch into the sensation. 

The pressure increased just barely as the needles made their way from shoulders to tailbone. Just as the tension Noxia was chasing so badly peaked, it disappeared. 

Everything relaxed. Her shoulders, her chest, her lower back and her feet and even her feelings. 

The overbright pleasure radiating from Noxia cooled into a warm emptiness, and Serena desperately tried to chase the space afforded to her. She surged forward with the urge to writhe and shout. 

It wasn’t her space to fill. Even as Noxia emptied out and went limp in Selag’s lap, Serena was confined to the little space she’d filled with stinking, slick fear. 

Frustration like hot tears and gritted teeth roiled her pool. She had nowhere to go. No feelings of her own. 

Selag’s voice murmured to Noxia, “Good girl,” and it wasn’t speaking to Serena. She was *supposed to be a person. 

Noxia let out a low hum from the back of her throat. Something like a heartbeat thrummed through Selag into her. “Just relax. Let your little friend lead the way.” 

It purred so beautifully. No wonder she’d thought it was Emma. Emma had used that same tone while she eased something huge into her. 

Noxia’s insides squirmed, and she somehow felt even more limp and empty. Serena thrashed, the slimy feeling making her feel sick. 

Selag wouldn’t stop with the soft, gentle words. “It knows just what you want, dearest. It’s so hard to choose for yourself what you want, I know. So just listen close to that wonderful little bug and it will tell you.” 

Serena couldn’t hear shit. But Noxia sank even deeper. She churned like there was some third presence in her body, which there was. 

She could still feel her guts, still feel the shape of a smaller but present lump of flesh that wasn’t hers. It clung so very tight to her. It oozed with pleasure. She could feel it. Just like she could feel every feeling Noxia did-

The pool of dread that was once a buzz and once a girl tried to rip itself apart. 

No no no, she was not these things. 

She didn’t want to be the calm that had filled her body or the alien thing telling her what to feel. 

She wanted to be her. She wanted to be Serena, the girl who should never have gotten so drunk or said those things to the people who loved her.

Selag drew another frond down Noxia’s spine, and this time the brilliant glow of pleasure surged up from beneath the calm nothing. 

It was like the sunrise. It was so soft and so huge. 

Was that something Serena’s body could actually feel? Why wasn’t it hers? 

Pain was staining the pool of her emotions blood red, overflowing it. 

Noxia didn’t hurt.

“Oh Noxxy, I know you’re still confused in there, even if you can’t feel it. You can let go, you know.” Was Selag talking to her? Why had it used Noxia’s name instead of hers? 

Selag’s vines ran through Noxia’s hair, and her body lazily and easily pushed back against it. That same confusing sensation ran through her again. 

Serena couldn’t help but lean in to try understanding what the hell it was. Anger? Confidence? Spite? 

No, if she pushed into this feeling and understood it, then maybe she’d feel it too. She didn’t want to feel what Noxia was feeling. 

Even if it was so much sweeter than all the bitter, icy-hot feelings inside her.

“Just relax for a while, my Noxia. You’re alright. Nothing can hurt you here.” What an insane lie for Selag to tell. It was hurting her constantly. 

Everything that was still her was in so, so much pain. 

Only Noxia didn’t hurt.

Selag’s vines were petting her for a while. Serena wanted to sob, but there was no release. No way out, surrounded by Noxia as she was. 

The pain and the fear weren’t lessening. She could only keep track of time by her stolen body’s slow breaths, and it was such a long wait inside herself. 

Noxia was so quiet. Why couldn’t she be that quiet? 

Why couldn’t she have what Selag was giving her? 

What was so wrong with Serena that she was treated to horror, and Noxia got pleasure? 

Selag shifted. The vines on top of her head slid, wrapping back and forth through her hair and lightly gripping the shape of her skull. They lifted Noxia’s head, and something in her body told her to open her mouth, tongue out. Oh stars, no. 

“Good little giblet. Good little organ. You already know how to take your conditioning, don’t you?” Selag purred. 

No she did not. 

Serena wasn’t ready. 

The fear roiled again. 

Selag was going to break her. 

She didn’t know what was going to happen, but she knew she was where this monster wanted her. 

“Now spread for me.” Noxia’s thighs spread, trying to hike up toward Selag’s lap. Oh stars no, she was so exposed. She was wet. 

“Good girl. I promise this won’t take long at all.” 

Noxia was staring at one of the bushes hanging from the walls, unseeing. 

She didn’t see as needles descended toward her back, a vine wrapped around her throat, and fronds of something wrapped around her asscheeks, spreading her even further. She felt something probe against her entrances. 

No, no, NO! 

She did not want this fucking monster to rape her! 

Revulsion joined fear, anger, pain, and utterly desperate frustration. It was too much. 

She wanted to stop being. She wanted Noxia to take up the space that she had so that stupid little freak could enjoy being raped. But she couldn’t shrink her little pool any more than she could grow it. 

She couldn’t escape.

Slick and pliant, vines pushed gently into her holes. Her mouth, her pussy, her ass. 

Every one was filled and every inch of her body was being touched. 

Sharp pricks against the soft muscles of her back. Gentle brushes against her shoulder blades and spine. 

The rate increased. She felt every little detail of the vines pushing inside her, the one in her cunt stopping to well up against her entrance once it had pushed to the point of pain, the one in her ass pushing further than she ever thought it could, and the one in her throat delving deep like it once had before. 

“You take it so well, Noxxy. Now let go, my little giblet.” The vines began pumping back and forth. Her ass was squeezed, and then the fronds left. 

They came back with a resounding slap, and every needle and caress followed the shock traveling up her spine. 

These were Noxia’s feelings, right? Serena was just along for the ride. 

If these things were hers, then maybe she would feel what Noxia felt. Empty on the surface, but like a bubble holding in unimaginable pleasure. 

Like the whole of her mind was just a vessel for this endless feeling. What an easy thing to be.

“Let go.” 

Let go of what? Serena wanted to let go of her feelings so badly. She wanted to let go of what she was. 

She wanted it. Stars, she wanted it. 

Even inside her horrible little pool, she wanted her voice back to beg. 

Please, Selag. Please let me go. Please let me stop feeling like this. 

Noxia’s massive ocean of pleasure pushed her calm, thoughtless peace against her from every side. Serena was a smaller bubble, full of noxious black emotions. 

She wanted to pop. The pressure was too much. 

“Let go, Noxia.” It said once more. 

Her body was on fire with sensation. The needles were like a field of lightning on her back. The penetration was mind-wiping and breathless, leaving her feeling like there was no part of her that was not being fucked. 

The fronds reared back slowly to slap into her ass again. Her whole body shook, but she had no release. Noxia didn’t even make a sound. 

Selag had said that name like it was speaking to her. It wasn’t her name, right? 

Her name was Serena and she was- Well she was horrible. Nothing but bad feelings. 

Serena was the name of a girl who didn’t own the pleasure all around and inside of her. 

Serena would only ever feel that pressure build, 

and her horrible problems soak into her skin. 

Noxia felt pleasure, not pain. 

No pain at all. 

Not even when she was spanked. 

It said to let go. 

The little black bubble in Noxia’s head tried to push out into that nice blank bubble with all the good feelings inside. 

She was so sick of feeling bad things. 

She wanted to feel like Noxia. 

She wanted to be Noxia.

The bubble popped. 

Noxia moaned into the vine in her mouth. She stopped looking for whatever else was in her head. 

Suddenly, her whole body was a bright, endless glow. She felt so good. She felt so good in Master Selag’s grasp. So good with It inside her. 

“There you are, Noxxy. Good giblet. You can cum now.”

Noxia’s bubble popped too. 

There were no confines to the pleasure. No emptiness that could not be filled. 

Her insides squirmed with joy and her body arched and she screamed into the blockage in her throat that she loved so much. 

Not one image crossed her mind and only one word: Selag. Selag, Selag, Selag~ Nothing in this world but the pleasure of her clamping and writhing and knowing that Master had given her this pleasure. 

The rest of meaning and reality was wiped away by the glow.

Pride slowly coalesced at the bottom of her mind, where her thoughts were slowly collecting again like glowing embers. 

Pride at her position. She’d remembered the word for that strong, powerful joy. That feeling was pride.

When her mind had recollected, the intrusions had left, and her body was wrapped up more gently. 

The grip had become a cradle. But she was surrounded by Selag in every way, and she knew what comfort finally felt like. There was an inkling something had changed, another name tickling at the edges of her brain…

But ignoring it was much nicer. She was happy here.

“Did you say goodbye, Noxxy?” Master asked. 

It took Noxia a moment to think about that. Sure, lying in its tendrils limply was easier than speaking, but she felt like there was supposed to be a good answer for that. Something was gone, but she didn’t really want to say what. 

“To who, Master Selag?” She asked. 

That felt right somehow. Like whoever Master was talking about, she wasn’t supposed to notice them going.

“Oh, no one at all, sweet little thing. Don’t you worry your empty little head about it.” Selag purred. 

Noxia felt the pulse of It all around, and she gladly let her thoughts trail off into simply being who and what she was meant to be: A little piece of meat that her Master loved to play with.

--

September 21st, 2551

Y’know what? I think I broke her too fast. Like, I’m more attached to Serena than I thought. That does make it more hot, but I might do something else with her. I wanna expand on whatever she’s got going on with Emma. 

Still don’t wanna spend time writing anything other than hot alien plants though. Maybe I’ll kick poor Emma in with her, try breaking a totally different personality type.

This stuff really helps kill time. The pacing here has completely been thrown out of whack by the lack of word from home. 

Most of our work is just making sure the hydroponics keep going and a speedrun of the process towards arable land. 

Roman and I are kicking ass. He’s breeding new generations at a mile a minute, and I’ve been iterating really quick through different soil compositions to throw at him. 

I refuse to stop repeating myself about how much easier this work is when we’re following an actual goal and not corporate standards. 

No waiting on confirmation, no budgeting costs and refusing to use the more expensive option. We’re focused on survival, not checking off boxes to keep cost returns as high as they can get. 

Just another dose of schadenfreude confirming that Alan and all the other corpo motherfuckers here are basically useless. Great business degrees, idiots.

Roman keeps talking about the weekly meetups. Apparently they didn’t stop after the first month, even when the negotiations slowed down. 

I don’t know why he goes to those things. He mostly complains about George talking out of his ass and how tone deaf that one girl is — honestly I don’t remember her name. 

Considering it’s still where people are arguing about politics and group decisions, I’m glad to count myself out.

If this shuttle weren’t as cliquey as one of those old-fashioned high schools like the algorithms still make up shows about, this would be a lot easier. 

There’s the few scientists who got themselves involved in all this organization nonsense, like Tatiana and her friends. The rest of us scientists and engineers are too busy trying to keep the whole team from dying. 

There’s the ship’s primary crew, including meat-headed assholes like George. They really like selling themselves as just as essential as the people telling them which puddles are drinkable water. 

Then there’s the corpos like Alan and the idiots who are still too promotion-hungry to realize they’re relying on Hilova . The people that were willing to effectively strand us until it became cost-effective to acknowledge our existence again. 

They get along well enough with the crew, which considering they mostly refuse to do hard labor doesn’t make any fucking sense. Again, fuck George.

I guess Roman fits into Tatiana’s group, considering everyone likes him. I don’t know how he manages, since he seems even more shy than I am. But apparently he shows up anyway. Maybe I’ll try one of these days.

Something about the rhythm I’ve got set is so awesome, though. I work as hard as I want to for as long as I want to, then I go home and rest. 

It’s not a paycheck getting me out of bed — I’m actually helping keep everyone here alive. That is, if the hydroponics really fall behind like Tatiana says they might. 

When all that ‘job’ shit is scraped off and it’s just me and the underlying science, I can’t keep myself away. Every little iteration and breakthrough means something for once.

Then, when I get home, I can write to my heart’s content. 

I’m actually almost all the way through BACK/SLASH. It used to be all in my brain, and now it’s nearly an entire horror novel I can actually see on a page. Fucked up.

I kinda need all that work to keep my brain occupied. Technically, I was prepared to have no intranet access since before the trip, but now that I’m kind of just living here… Void, I miss it. 

Forget feeds to scroll, I can’t check up on my online friends or read any light novels. I’ve only got whatever I can come up with myself. 

It’s been fantastic for my creative brain, but my brain feels starved for stimulus sometimes. Especially when it’s quiet and nothing’s happening.

My wrists hurt too. From the typing and labwork. Nothing else, of course. 

I don’t know who’d blame me for spending my time getting off when we’re literally stranded on a stars-forsaken rock, though. 

Sometimes I still feel gross about it. Like, you really don’t have anything better to do with your time? Just gonna get horny four times a day and constantly need to handle it? 

I swear it was so much easier to control before we got here. But my little hab’s pretty darn isolated, and the ideas keep coming. 

It can’t be that bad to wanna feel good when there’s so little decent food and no damn wi-fi. 

Y’know, maybe I ought to give Mallory at least a section of BACK/SLASH. I really think it needs an editing pass before anyone sees, but she’s literally the only one who’s ever asked about my writing. 

A girl paying attention to me is way too much to handle, though. I kinda feel awkward talking to her when other people are around. 

I don’t think I’m really passing enough to be treated like one of the girls, but she doesn’t seem to care as much as most people have. 

Better not to think too hard about the whole passing thing. I can stick to the good will I’ve been getting for hopefully giving everyone gardens that grow non-cubic food. 

No more disasters. That’s what I promised myself when I got onto this ship. 

I was gonna make it through this and get way too much of a raise for doing so. There would be no disasters out of me, and no disasters out of anyone else. 

Probably for the best that I keep my time in contact with idiots like Alan and George to a minimum. More comments about how much I need to shave are seriously not needed.

Iyla Kaziev

Chapter Text

If you’re looking for it, I promise there’s good ol-fashioned vore in here eventually. But first I gotta hit you with something way worse. Buckle up folks, this one’s pretty horrific.

—

“Okay, for a girl I literally fucked last night, you are being such a virgin right now.”

Sound always traveled in these tight corridors. Anyone who wasn’t completely inebriated knew that even on a ‘space cruise’ like this, bare-walled passages always started endless echoes. That was probably why Emma was motioning with her hands to try and ease down Serena's volume.

Emma never once intimidated Serena despite her being four inches shorter. Her long brunette hair was always tossed the right way, and her tied t-shirt and booty shorts showed off her bust and hips as well as any sorority sister. 

Serena was a rich girl full of attitude — and liquor. Emma loved her that way, but it made things hard. 

“Serena, how the hell is this having fun? I’ve had a few, you’ve had too many.” 

Emma tried her hardest not to tell her girlfriend what to do. She always took it that way anyway. “You don't get to tell me what my body can and can't handle, Emma. Jus’ cause you're a lightweight.”

Emma weighed about twice what Serena did and held her liquor about three times as well. That was half the reason they'd started dating. Emma was not, in fact, a lightweight. 

Serena had literally dropped into her lap at a party. She was very convinced that Emma was a good-looking guy. Emma took that as a compliment. 

Her hair was green, and fluffy in a short undercut, and she was proud of being tall, and broad-shouldered. Serena was one of the only girls who had gone crazy for the look.

She took the fact that Emma was butch and not a frat-guy well enough. “Have you ever been with a girl before?” and “I’m sure I’m drunk enough to try anything,” suddenly shifted into, “My dad is a massive piece of shit,” and, “Mine too.” 

It didn’t stop there, either. Moms, brothers, conventions, expectations, they bitched about everything and all the while traded the spiciest little barbs like they’d known each other for years.

They didn’t even fuck that first night. Emma had gotten her number and they’d never stopped talking. She really wished that the rest was just history. 

But caring about Serena was starting to take a toll on her.

“You said one day of drinking this weekend. This is your third binge since then. Tell me that sounds good for you.” Emma said it like she was begging, and still she regretted the words the second after. 

“Th’fuck do you know? You said you weren't gonna be a boyfriend, but you're still tryna get in my business all the time! Wha’if I don't wanna stop drinking?” Serena asked, as if that added anything. Her pretty green eyes weren't as sweet when she rolled them at her.

“You better be glad I'm not any of your boyfriends! None of them took any fucking care of you!” 

“I take care of myself, whaddyu think the drinks are for?” Serena’s posture deflated in exasperation. As if that explained anything!

“Are you crazy, Serena? I don't care how drunk you are, you're clearly not listening to yourself. What the hell are you trying to forget? Your dad only sending you on a space cruise cause he never learned how to love?”

“Fuck you, Emma, this is why I never tell anyone shit. You wanna start on how your dad hit you or whatever? Tell me all about how much better I am with you instead of a guy?” Serena tried to push her shoulder, but Emma barely noticed. 

“That’s really cool. You know a million ways to talk about anything but how you're feeling. Really great talent, babe.” 

“Yeah? Keep being mean like that.” Serena’s focus wandered, landing her brain in horny territory and her eyes on Emma's chest. 

Serena had encouraged her to wear a loose shirt and no bra. She'd been trying to get Emma to show off a bit more.

Anger struck like lightning bolts out of Emma's belly; out into her limbs and veins, her chest puffing up. She'd had one too many to stifle that base urge. But she stayed the fuck put, no matter how bad she wanted to slam Serena against the wall. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Everything has to be about getting off with you. Either you need to be drunk or you need to be getting fucked. Or both, so you don't have to even realize who you're fucking.”

“Fuckin’ jackpot or whatever. You're starting to get it.” The words oozed out of Serena's drunken lips. Had she really meant to say that? Then why had it hurt her so much to say?

The fire in Emma's limbs suddenly went out. That look in Serena’s eyes just wasn't right. Like she'd dug deep enough into her and found a bottomless pit below. 

Emma only had a shovel right now. “You really never planned on fucking me when you weren't drunk. You never look at me like that when you're sober.” 

“Who fucking cares, sex isn' good unless you're drunk anyway.” Serena shrugged. She stumbled a bit as she went to lean against the wall. 

“Serena, are you attracted to me? Do you want a girlfriend, or do you just need a dildo?”

Serena didn't answer. She leaned her head against the wall, and fuck Emma if she wasn't a little satisfied to see her not pretending everything was fine. 

“Did I ever pass the experiment phase, for you? After every time I held you?” Emma asked.

Serena didn't answer that either. Instead, she asked, “Is anyone really attracted to anyone?” 

As if that fucking meant anything.

“Okay, nope. This trip was a shit idea, and you are a shit person. I really tried to be your partner and not your parent, but I think anything more than a one night stand is clearly too much for you.”

Emma threw up her hands and started walking away. “I'll be back in that huge-ass room your daddy bought us when you told him you had a boyfriend. Don't worry, I'll take the couch. Butches fucking love that shit.” 

Serena didn't say anything at first. What the fuck was she supposed to say? It turned out that having a girlfriend did not prevent her bullshit from ruining everything. 

She didn't even want to drink, now…

… Oh, fuck that bitch. 

“Who in the void-damned fuck do you think you are!? I put you on a fucking cruise and you seriously wanna bitch about me having too much fun?” Serena white-knuckle gripped the rail of the corridor as she shouted, trying to keep the tears from bursting out of her. 

“Your dyke ass has probably never had it this good, and you still wanna treat me like I'm the fucking child. You grow the fuck up, you get a fucking pair! Fuck you!”

Emma kept walking and didn’t look back. She just flipped Serena off.

Thank fuck. Maybe she'd get far enough away not to hear Serena breaking into tears and sliding to the floor. 

Emma just couldn't help herself, could she? A dozen and a half breakups, and only that girl made her feel this fucking awful. Only Emma said that she wouldn't judge, then tried to tell her what to do anyway. Only her. 

Following sounds of a fight, Leo found a beautiful girl reduced to a drunken, sobbing mess when he looked around the intersection — and that sort of thing just hurt his heart. 

He made his way over slowly, since she clearly hadn't noticed him yet. He waited as she was wracked with hiccups and gulps for air, even though he wished he could make it stop. Leo was just that kind of guy.

When the crying slowed, he tapped on the hull beside that pretty girl. She looked up slowly, seemingly not having the reflexes to be surprised right now. How cute. 

Serena found a tall guy with warm tanned skin and a mop of curly black hair looking down at her. There sure were a lot of buttons undone on his shirt.

“Hey, you okay? You look like someone broke your heart.” He said. 

The brunette choked down another hiccup. “They did. They really fucking did.” She drew her knees in, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“I'm Leo.” He introduced himself, sitting down beside her. “So who are you, and who broke your heart?” 

Serena would sooner take some random guy who was planning on killing her over the concept of spending the night in a room with Emma, right now. How could it get any worse?

“Serena.” She answered easily. It was harder to say; “Just some heartless bitch who doesn't know how the fuck to stop.” 

Leo raised an eyebrow. He was awfully pretty. His eyes were a strange golden color, but it was warm and bright and suited him perfectly. A good use of fancy contacts if Serena had ever seen one.

“How to stop what?” He asked. “I assume that you don’t stop being this pretty. Some things you never want to stop.”

Of all the responses to her self-hatred, this wasn’t the one she’d expected. It had been a compliment, though, and Leo was hot. She was drunk enough to come up with a response.

“Uh, like, getting in my business I guess?” With the swirl of all her emotions and the buzz in her head, she could almost keep acting like she wasn’t the problem here. 

“Ah. Yet I’m here nosing into your business. Could I get you anything to help? Water? A strong drink?” Leo asked. 

“I don’t- You-” Serena wanted to hit Leo with her cutest ‘I don’t mind if you bother me,’ but that question stuck in her head. She could get more drunk. She could forget what just happened there. Couldn’t she? 

She was so close to blackout.

She could just forget it all and sleep with this guy tonight instead. Never even show up to the room with the person that she loved in it.

The woman that she loved.

Serena couldn’t stop the tears again. She was more sure of that feeling than ever, but only because she could tell exactly how much she hated herself for wanting to just take another shot and throw it all out.

“Nevermind. You’ll fuck off — if you’re smart.” Serena gasped out between sobs. 

Leo — fuck he seemed patient — just looked at her so sweetly. He didn’t even say anything yet. 

“Most guys ditch by the time I’m crying. What’s your deal?” She asked. Leo looked into her eyes, and she felt some sort of pull. 

Those eyes were so pretty. Leo was leaning in towards her, and she just couldn’t feel scared. She was the only one who could hurt herself so badly. 

He wrapped a hand around the back of her head. It ached in the center of her chest to be touched like that, and yet she wouldn’t trade it for one thing in the world. 

“I know that you feel horrible right now. I know that you don’t like yourself. I can see it.” Leo said. 

“What? How- Why would you say that?” Serena blinked, and Leo didn’t. 

“I like you, though. I’ll savor even that hate.” Those pretty golden eyes seemed brighter, and something turned Serena’s stomach with an urge to pull away. 

Before she could, Leo’s head burst open. 

It wasn’t like in the movies — actually it wasn’t like anything human at all. 

A splatter of greenish clear fluid covered her face, and Leo’s features seemed to peel apart, shredding into pieces as they unfolded violently.

Like in the movies, however, Serena certainly screamed.

“Holy shit. Serena, move!” Someone had grabbed her by the shoulder, dragging her to her feet.

Serena stumbled, but her instincts kept her moving. Emma grabbed her forearm and dragged her into a sprint.

“What the fuck Emma, what the fuck!! Did you just kill him!?” Serena shouted, her heart thundering and chest heaving. 

“I have no idea, but that was not a person — come on babe, run!” Emma was dragging her at a breakneck pace, and her feet were stumbling over themselves.

“What the fuck- What the fuck was that? You shot him?” Serena asked, clarity slowly pushing aside the haze of alcohol. 

“I have no idea what these things are, but they’re disguised as us. I — Serena, the first one looked like Fayruz. She tried to come onto me, but when I tried to push her back her body just unfolded.

“I don’t know how many of them there are but I ran and grabbed—” Emma stopped, and Serena crashed into her back. She stayed on her feet, staring dead ahead.

That was a gun in her other hand, rattling a little as her grip trembled. 

A laser pulse pistol. The movies loved to talk about those. No kick, no reload time, just a whole lot of kinetic energy unloaded into something you pointed at.

Then Serena looked up to what she’d stopped for. 

Fayruz, a dark-skinned and fluffy-haired woman they’d met earlier, with a dreamy look on her face as she gazed at the gun in Emma’s hands. 

How had Serena not seen that same look on Leo’s face? Stars, he’d been so sweet and concerned, but it was like he’d barely been there at all. 

Emma slowly raised the gun, and Serena understood easily this time. No one stared down a barrel and just left their head innocently cocked like that. No one human.

“What in the fuck are you, and where is Fayruz?” Emma asked. 

Serena instinctively tugged on Emma, glancing toward the branch in the hall just a few feet back. Was she seriously playing action hero right now?

Emma still didn’t budge one inch. Serena looked back and saw her girlfriend with set feet and an arm that had gone steady as steel. She wasn’t playing at anything.

“I’m Fayruz, Emma!” The alien responded. Her voice sounded exactly right. Emma had said that voice was cute, and even the tone still felt like her.

“We talked earlier, and you shot me when you ran away? You know I’ve got bad memories with firearms, Emma, that’s not very kind of you.” She continued. 

Serena’s head spun, reminding her she hadn’t instantly sobered up. Her expression was off, but something about that voice was just… Right. Like Fayruz was being puppeted. 

“I don’t give a shit what you overheard her saying earlier, I asked where she is. Or else, this time, I make sure to finish you off.” Emma said. Her voice shook with a fury that only made her scarier. 

Fayruz had mentioned that the place she’d lived in had gone through a revolt. 

She remembered the sound of rifles and laser repeaters, and it was the quiet little snap of an energy weapon that really scared her. Like she could take a stray and die just like that, quiet and instant. 

“I still feel a bit guilty for making it out of all that, y’know. But I don’t think that makes me deserve being ‘finished off,’ Emma.” The alien responded through Fayruz. 

Emma twitched a bit. Serena tried to hide further behind her. 

“So you were listening to us when we talked about that after she left. I don’t give a shit about your act, so drop it and tell me what you did with her.” Emma growled, driving the gun forward.

Fayruz kept her dreamy look, but the hurt in her eyes felt so real. “This isn’t an act, cutie. I don’t like how you assume Fayruz isn’t me. It may be hard to face, but she’s safe as part of me. To me, even that guilt is as sweet as you smell-”

That snap wasn’t quite as quiet from right next to Emma as she unloaded a blast into the thing’s chest, then snap snap blew holes through its lower body. 

It unfolded like an apple cut into rings as the searing light burned sections of it to dust. Its arms even split open and pushed against the wall to keep Fayruz’s shoulders and head up. 

It wasn’t scared. Those pretty dark green eyes were pleading. “Emma, please stop.”

“We aren’t getting shit out of this thing, Sere—” Emma cut off as Serena screamed, something gripping onto her right arm from all sides and dragging her away. 

Emma tried to whirl around and grab her, but Serena had flown ten feet back, suddenly caught by something soft, pliant, and sticky. It solidified behind her, becoming the shape of a person who wrapped an arm around her chest. 

Serena fought. She struggled and she writhed, but another arm joined around her waist, and no matter how she kicked, screamed and bit, the ‘person’ just picked her up and held her helpless. The arms were like steel wrapped in petals. 

“Serena!!” Emma cried out. But as she leveled her gun, they both knew there was no clear shot at the thing holding her. Serena heard a chuckle beneath its breath.

“Easy, sweetie. I assume this is the girl who broke your heart, Serena?” Leo asked. No, whatever thing was pretending to be this Leo guy.

“Let me go! Fuck off about broken hearts, let me go!!” Serena shouted. How had no one come running to help yet? Were they alone now, surrounded by aliens?

Serena looked to Emma, seeing the fear harden back into anger in her eyes. 

Something deep down told her she deserved that anger, that putting a laser through her to kill this thing was far beyond an acceptable cost. 

But Emma wasn’t angry about Leo’s bullshit or even Serena’s bullshit. Emma glanced away from her gun’s sights for just a moment to meet her eyes. 

Emma made it clear in that one glance: No matter what happened, Serena wouldn’t come to harm under her watch. 

“Fayruz, if you could? I don’t want to take overlong with these two, they deserve to stay together.” Leo asked.

Fayruz had been neutralized, so— 

A lashing, writhing mass of green tendrils burst across the hallway toward Emma. 

Her gun snapped, and she stood her ground, but the plant-like swarm barely noticed the shots before burying Emma and slamming her against the wall. 

Serena screamed again. Emma grunted, and she desperately wished for her to get back up. 

The writhing mass on top of Emma partially coalesced into Fayruz’ bare upper body, pressed up against Emma’s. She was much shorter than Emma, but the rest of her slithering mass completely pinned her every limb to the wall. 

Emma struggled to gain control again, straining against even the tiniest tendrils of slimy bright green plant mass. 

This thing couldn’t hold her down forever, and Serena could tell. Emma’s gun hand broke free for a moment before being slapped back down. 

“Oh Emma, you’re so brave. I’ve never felt that same way, you know. I’m sorry to leave any degree of separation between you two, but I think Fayruz needs you. I hope you understand.” The creature’s voice was still just Fayruz’s, no strange alien drone or depth.

“Shut up.” Emma glanced in Serena’s direction, still thinking about her even now. “Hey. Baby, hey, take a breath, alright? Serena, I’ve got this.” 

Serena barely registered the words. Seeing Emma pinned even worse than she was had her lashing around like the feral animal she’d been reduced to. 

Then, she slowed down. She could breathe and focus. For a second, Emma had her. 

That dumbfuck grinned. Serena hadn’t known Emma was capable of something like that. 

She’d seen a temper, seen some self-righteousness, seen some possessiveness. But in that moment, Emma really was heroic. 

How the hell hadn’t she seen it before?

“I’ve got this.” Emma said again, even though she hadn’t known she could pull shit like that either.

Emma heaved her gun arm free, unloading two quick snaps into the mass of the alien. She could feel the heat of the blasts, watching a huge chunk of its mass burn away instantly. 

Then there was a gentle hand on the back of her neck, a gentle look from Fayruz’s eyes, and a horrible crunch in the back of her head.

Serena watched as a large, dark vine burst from the fake human palm and punched straight into the base of Emma’s skull. 

Emma’s eyes went wide and unfocused. She made a little choking sound.

The gun fired off another wild shot as it fell from her fingers, clattering to the floor. Even her neck went limp, rolling into that gentle hold.

Serena didn’t know how to scream anymore. A scream wasn’t enough for what she felt as she watched.

As Emma’s eyes rolled back, mouth gaping open and body twitching as something pumped through the alien’s dark tendril.

Fayruz shushed Emma gently and trembled as well, eyes glowing and unfocused as that vine of hers drained the contents of Emma’s skull.

Serena watched her body spasm and give out. She watched the last few masses of brain matter were pulled out and disappeared into the alien’s mass. 

Fayruz closed her eyes, and smiled. “Mmm. I knew she’d make me feel better. She’ll be good company for Fayruz, don’t you think, Leo?” 

“I’m glad to let you have her, even if I’d have loved to have both of these two.” Leo spoke, reminding Serena that she’d gone limp in his arms. 

“Killed her…” Serena mumbled, entirely on impulse. 

It wasn’t a real, complete thought. She couldn’t accept that her hero had just vanished before her eyes. 

The alien wearing that cute face let her collapse to the floor like a discarded doll. 

“I’m so sorry, Serena. Don’t worry, I’ve got her right here for you.” Fayruz said. Then her body split apart again. 

Serena hadn’t realized just how much mass was still left even after every one of Emma’s shots. She’d really only slowed them down. 

They’d never stood a chance.

The tendrils writhed, shimmered, shifted, and coalesced again. They folded together and compressed with a sticky, breathy sound. 

Emma’s body collapsed from its slumped position, and Emma took a step away from it.

She wasn’t wearing any clothes — the alien either couldn’t or just hadn’t replicated those. But it was ‘her.’ 

Every little detail. Every last beauty mark and tiny scar. The pudge to her tummy and the strength in her jaw.

Serena couldn’t really comprehend the point of the tears dripping down her face. The sensation just joined the void in her heart. 

“Okay. Stars, I’m sorry baby. I’m back, don’t worry.” Emma’s voice said. She came closer. 

Those eyes… The care in them was real, the concern only magnified by the gentle glow that had filled her now silvery irises. 

But they looked right through her. 

They saw past Serena’s skull and made Emma talk like she was talking to a pitiful little animal, not the girl she had really, truly loved.

“You’re not her.” It was just a whisper. The last remnants of a refusal to accept a reality that had far surpassed her control.

“I get that, babe. I don’t blame you, these guys scared the shit out of me too. But I mean, here I am again. I’ll be here forever, now. That’s kinda cool, right?” Emma tried to explain.

If anything, that hint of earnest self-doubt just scoured away any last sparkle of hope in her. 

It was ‘Emma.’ But it would never be the real Emma ever again.

“Look, we kinda have a right to you guys, y’know? If we let you die any of the normal ways, you disappear. All that stuff in your head just gets lost. So we keep it safe. 

“I’ve got a whole lot more I wanted to share with you, Serena. I wanna see you really embrace me. Embrace yourself. We’ll do it for you, though. No more effort on your part.”

One of Leo’s arms left her waist and brushed the wild hair from her eyes before gently settling on the back of her head. 

She’d been right. She knew he was about to kill her, and still she felt so much better for that simple touch. She’d barely even pretended she could resist that kind of escape.

Serena leaned back into the hand. Emma came up and took her by the chin, pressing close against her. 

Her body had a certain give that just wasn’t the same as she’d once been. Tears still streamed down Serena’s face. 

“I’ll see you in just a sec, okay babe? I know you love me. You don’t have to say it till you’re ready.” Emma reassured her. 

At least whatever Serena existed after this, she wouldn’t make the same stupid decisions that the real one had.

There was a sharp pressure at the back of her skull. 

A burst of jagged agony.

Then a release so complete that Serena had never imagined such relief.

—

September 30th, 2551

I should probably delete that.

I dunno. With most of my writing, I don’t mind the awful feeling. Despair gets me off half the time, and it’s kinda the point when you’re writing horror. 

All the shock and none of the relief. Simulating the idea that something that devastating can really happen to you, while leaving you safe.

But like… That was kinda torture porn? Is that what I’m into writing now? Just making this one girl miserable as fuck? 

Gonna take a break from this shit and see if I can’t just focus on BACK/SLASH. Some writing I can actually show someone feels like it’s got more of a point. Not like any of this is worth being proud of.

Roman asked about my writing too. I got scared as hell before I remembered that not everything I do is completely degenerate. 

Editing is going pretty quickly, with two people waiting on me. Roman says he’s not big on horror, but the boredom is getting to him, and he figured it’d give us more to talk about. 

I kind of convinced him to get excited for it? Like, he’s eager after I told him how fucked up BACK/SLASH gets. I explained that whole thing, where horror can be cathartic and junk, and he kept listening. 

It’d be awesome to make people around here happy with my writing on top of being useful for practical reasons. Hell, being useful at all feels really new. It’s great.

Gonna focus on being useful. If even my dumb obsessive brain can do something for everyone, maybe I’m a bit more talented than I thought. 

I can do more wrist stretches, get a bit more sleep, maybe report a bit more often on my progress, even if the labwork just gets more boring every day. 

Nah, I can do that. I can do that easy.

If I can force myself to go by the name I want and wear the clothes I like even though it’s scary, I can force myself to do the stuff that makes me proud of myself.

Iyla Kaziev