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mykneeshurt · 2 years ago

Text

Greed

Title picture by the talented @loneghostwolf

Graves x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit nature, p in v, f in v, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, f in a, implied rough sex, implied breathplay (please tell me if anything is missing)

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The series of events that led you to having Commander Graves fingers buried deep inside your cunt, again, were all but a mystery. Bent over his knee, trousers haphazardly discarded on the floor, panties ripped, you were a drooling mess. His middle and ring fingers pumped your tight hole with little regard. Graves wanted one, thing and one thing only.

To punish you.

To punish you for your insolence. Showing him up in front of the General. That would not do.

This wasn’t your first punishment by his hand, oh no. He loved nothing more than making you squirm, writhe, convulse from overstimulation. If there was one thing in this world he craved, it was the sound of your pretty voice begging him to stop. Pleading with him as he collected your orgasms like fine gems.

He needed them.

He was greedy.

‘C’mon baby, c’mon baby, c’mon baby’ he panted as he felt your cunt clench around him. Muffled whimpers at his feet as you bit down on the fleshy part of your hand. Trying your hardest to stifle your moans of pure bliss. His thumb brushed your clit, firm and with purpose, pushing you over the edge. Your back arched, pulling your chest away from his legs, a firm hand quickly pushed you back down. ‘Oh no, you can give me another one sweetheart. I ain’t done yet.’

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, you’d given him two powerful orgasms already. Graves never told you how many he wanted, he just took them instead. And he always got what he wanted.

‘I can’t … please … I can’t’ you whimpered again, voice strained and hoarse. His calloused hand softly trailed against the small of your back, electricity shot through your spine. He could be gentle when he wanted to be. But that was rare, you were his to use, his to punish.

A harsh smack on your ass cheek swiftly reminded you who was in charge. He watched as the muscle jiggled from the force of his hand. A handprint soon becoming visible. Marking you.

‘I want more sweetheart. You’re gonna give it to me. Maybe then I’ll reward you with my cock.’ His voice was harsh, demanding, patronising. Trailing a finger along your creamy slit he slid his fingers back in, before adding a third. Gasping at the stretch you clutched at his ankles, desperately trying to ground yourself. ‘Such a pretty pussy baby’ he cooed as he began thrusting his fingers once more. The stretch ached and burnt, pushing ever so slightly past the line of pleasure.

Blood rushed to your head as his muscular thighs pressed into your diaphragm, restricting your breathing. You gasped for air as he continued his assault on your cunt. Eyes rolling back in your head as you neared a third. ‘That’s it, be a good girl, cum on my fingers, keep goin’ he praised, his breath singed your skin with his words. The sound of your cunt was sinful, only spurring him on further.

He felt your cunt begin to tighten again, it didn’t take much this time. As you fell into oblivion strangled cries left your throat. ‘That’s it, just like that, fuck baby’ he whispered as he watched you pulsate around him.

Removing his fingers he placed them on his tongue, groaning at your taste. He felt your ribs shake against his thighs, gasping for any oxygen you could find. ‘Oh sweetheart, you tired? Shame, cause I ain’t finished.’

He pulled you upright before forcing you backwards onto the desk, he watched as your chest rose and fell. Gulping air into your oxygen deprived lungs, beads of sweat gathered at your collar bones, you looked fucking beautiful. As a small reward he placed his lips onto yours, tasing yourself you deepened the kiss. Rolling your tongue against his as he grunted into your mouth.

His kissed and nipped at your jaw, your neck, your collar bones all the way back to your cunt. He pressed his tongue against your extremely sensitive clit, causing your hips to jerk. Wrapping his arm around your hips he pinned you to the desk. Digging your nails into his forearms you left crescent indentations in his skin. He hissed at the sting.

His tongue was warm, wet, as he grazed it teasingly over your clit, again and again. He groaned into you, savouring every morsel of your arousal on his tongue. Alternating between your clit and hole he sucked, nipped, kissed, licked every part of you. His hot breath fanned over your pussy adding a new layer of pleasure.

Arching your back you gripped at your breast, head thrown back, mouth open at his ministrations. He pushed his middle finger against your entrance as you whined, before teasing your ass hole with his ring finger. His licks were languid, sloppy as he filled your holes with his fingers, you felt full.

Lifting your head you caught his gaze, staring at you from the depths of your folds. His blue eyes looked more like a void as his pupils were blown out with pure desire. Muffled groans melted into your core as he developed his own rhythm, reading your body as he orchestrated another orgasm. Tears fell from your eyes as the pleasure punched you full force in the gut. Every sense now on high alert, your vision blurred and your hearing became nothing but static.

‘Fu … god … I can’t, Graves please, fuck’ you stammered, tripping over every word. Every syllable. Your skin ached and burnt at his touch, complete and utter overstimulation. You felt him smile against your sensitive clit, his breath hot and misty. ‘Goddamn sweetheart’ he purred.

Standing above you splayed out on his desk he tapped your pussy with his hand, causing you to jolt. ‘Since you’ve been such a good girl, seems only fit you get my cock. Wha’ya think baby? Think you can handle one more?’ His rubbed his hands along your thighs as you panted, trying to even out your breathing. This would be orgasm number four. Fuck.

Before you could even answer him he thrust his cock into your hole, making you arch your entire back off the desk. The wood creaked from the weight place on top of it. Hoisting your thigh over his hip he deepened his reach, his cock penetrating even deeper. But fuck did it feel so good. ‘Fuuuuck’ he growled, ‘got no idea what this pussy does to me sweetheart. Fuckin perfect.’ He fell into a punishing pace, watching as you thighs bounced around him.

Your brows knitted together as he filled you completely, resting your head in the crux of the elbow you panted into your skin. Your breasts moved rhythmically under your t-shirt as he slammed into you. ‘Phillip … Jesus … shit’ you whined, fighting for breath. He tapped your clit again ‘that’s right baby, say my name.’ He gritted his teeth as he felt himself edging closer and closer to his climax.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna cum … fuck!’ You whined, screwing your eyes shut. ‘Cum on this cock, come on, fuck baby’ he drawled. The sound that came from your throat could only be described as pornographic. The coil in your abdomen snapped as your orgasm crashed over you. ‘Shit, look at that’ he hummed, eyes transfixed on your cunt. The faint sound of gushing fought its way through the white noise of your orgasm. It was only then you realised you’d squirted all over his cock.

Pulling out he swiped his tongue along your slit, slurping up your juices before spitting it back onto your clit. He continued fucking you on his desk, your completely blissed out body led limp. Gripping onto your hips he dug his finger tips into the soft skin, his thrusts became slower, deeper, more purposeful. Dropping his head backwards he panted and moaned as he released hot ropes of cum into your used cunt.

You looked up at him through hooded lids, faint trails of mascara ran down your face. Still inside you he bent down and placed a warm kiss onto your lips. ‘Goddamn sweetheart, such a good fuckin girl for me’ he muttered against your mouth. You kissed him back, still panting and dizzy for the experience.

Little did you know he way already thinking about the next time.

———

A/N - I’ve never written for Graves before lmao … can you tell?

#call of duty #cod mw22 #philip graves x you #philip graves x reader #phillip graves #graves x reader #graves x you #graves smut #phillip graves smut #cod mwii #cod mw2

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ichore · 4 months ago

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I wonder how many times you think we can tease alhaitham in the library before he snaps and ends up edging us under the table?

tags, warnings: alhaitham x afab!reader, reader is a librarian, they're in a relationship, alhaitham is a busy man but god knows even he can't resist you, fingering, public sex

wc: 707

The tired, golden hue of the late afternoon Sun seeped through the stained glass windows of the House of Daena. The fragrances of fresh ink and old parchment mixed in the air, merely the knock of your heels disturbed the stillness of the library as you made your way across the building to sit next to the Scribe.

He whispered a hi before his attention darted back to his paperwork, his hand writing his signature expertly before adding the next paper to the enormous pile on his desk. You pouted; although you knew what it meant to be a Scribe for him, it never not felt like you were robbed of your time together, even if you were a librarian and you got to see him everyday. You tried your best not to forget he has his own office, but he sacrificed the peace and the quiet solitude of his own space to see more of you.

“Have you checked your messages?” you asked, whispering as a habit despite the library sounding hollow. You dragged your finger along the edge of the mahogany table as you made your way behind his back. His headphones flickered with a vibrant green light, letting you know that he sound proofed himself and he probably didn't even know that you two were alone. Your hands found his collarbones, your fingers kneading the tension in his shoulders before traveling down to his broad chest as you kissed him on the cheek. A pleased huff of air left your nostrils at the sight of his bulge being bigger than usual - meaning he did see your messages and the pictures of you in lingerie as the attachments.

The sound of the wooden chair being pulled out from under the table was echoing loudly in the emptiness of House of Daena before you took your seat next to him. Bored, you took a piece of already signed paper into your hand and began to lazily run your gaze across the written words; THE RESEARCH OF HILICHURLIAN LINGUISTICS. Was it not for Alhaitham looking mighty handsome next to you, perhaps you would've had interest in the paper. Your free hand found the hard muscles of his thigh, your eyes stayed on the paper as you began to massage the sensitive skin of his inner thigh before your fingers traveled upwards. A smirk curved your lips upward as you noticed the growth of his shaft, the frequency of his sighs as you teased him under the table - yet, it was Alhaitham, and it still felt like forever before he finally had enough and his half gloved hand made its way under your skirt.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath at the feeling of your wetness pooling and waiting for him between your thighs. His face remained the same, but his fingers shook with excitement as they began to run along your slit, wetting themselves with your sticky nectar before he moved into your clit in circular motions. Your bosom rapidly rose against his bicep as he took it as an indicator to how close you were, which made his cock leave its own mess as a wet stain on his pants. He could not take it anymore, the green of his eyes glance at you with carnal curiosity as he dropped his pen to remove his headphones. “Not caring about what people think is usually my forte, but you're beating me to it this time.”

“Love,” you started with a smile before pressing your lips against his, your grip on his cock tightening as you felt his precum roll onto your fingers. He was so adorable with the confused furrow of his brows when you slightly pulled away to brush your nose against his. “It's past 7, no one is here, but you and me.”

It took everything in you not to giggle loudly at the sight of him looking around and realizing that you were right, but your joy escaped in a yelp as he gingerly grabbed you by the back of your neck into a passionate kiss as easily grabbed your thighs and put your ass onto the table, and he groaned. “Well, in that case, I'm going to fuck you right here.”

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #smut #genshin x you #☁️#thank you for putting this thought in my head #i just know that the chair the reader was sitting on was wet af from her waiting for Haitham to give in 😭#like you gotta take your time to rile this man up #but once you do?#oh boy #I'm also glad you think of him despite not being into him haha

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wooahaeruby · 5 months ago

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Chapter 8: Simple Pleasures, Simple Panic

Chapter Word Count: 2,852

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

Two hours had passed since you confirmed the email. Jihoon, ever the gentleman he had been so far today, escorted you to your room after the confirmation, wanting to hit the hotel gym and shower before any pizza plans were set in stone.

You were able to keep you worrying in check for Jihoon, not wanting to feel like a burden with your emotions probably always spilling over into him. From your time out, Seungkwan and Chan had you download Kakao Talk and exchanged information with everyone in your little group earlier, sharing the pictures back and forth with funny little captions if the photos were ‘post worth’. It took your mind off the looming post from the staff.

A knock coming from your door served as a good distraction from your tidying of the majority clean room, endless scrolling on Tik Tok, and staring blankly out the window of your room.

Standing at the door upon opening it was someone you didn’t expect but gladly accepted.

��Seokminie, Mingyu-ah, Wonu-ah, and I were going to play Super Smash if you wanna join us.” Joshua’s sweet voice had you smiling.

“You have no idea how nice that sounds.” You sighed out, checking for your room key and phone before trailing behind him.

“Jihoon-ah told me that the announcement should be out soon, thought I’d invite you to get your mind off it all while he is still at the gym with Soonyoung.”

Approaching the room, you hear a shriek of annoyance, loud and startling with the door propped open.

“ Hyung you are cheating! Stop messing with my controller!” You hear the boisterous cry of Mingyu.

Joshua sent an apologetic glance before pushing the door open and allowing you in. There sprawled out across the queen sized bed was Mingyu, Wonwoo and Seokmin. Seokmin was half in Mingyu’s face, one hand working the controls while the other was trying to mess with Mingyu. Wonwoo was neutral territory, sitting up against the headboard in peace.

“ Hyung! Make him stop!” Mingyu wailed, turning his body and using his leg to hold Seokmin down, who just laughed and continued to try his sabotaging. “ Ruby-ah! Help!”

You used your fingers to make a small X, shaking your head. “No thank you, Seokmin-ah could probably yeet me across the room.”

“Did you just use yeet in a Korean sentence?” Joshua asked, jumping and landing himself on the bed next to Wonwoo.

“Like you haven’t used Konglish before.” You mocked him.

Instead of joining the battlefield of the bed, you took the desk chair and arranged it so you could sit and see the screen without an issue. Watching them play seemed more entertaining than actually playing. Seokmin called a truce for the next round when Joshua joined, Mingyu glared daggers at him once he removed his leg, getting huffy that he lost entirely because of the other’s antics. The next round added an agreement of only random characters, suggested by Wonwoo, and the challenge was easily accepted.

Mingyu took the breather to get more comfortable, laying flat on his stomach with a pillow under his chest and neck. Not even a couple moments in and Joshua had taken his turn to torment Mingyu, fueling the fire to add Seokmin back in. You couldn’t resist the fun and slid the chair in front of his face, blocking the view of his character, saying you needed a better view of the screen.

“ Don’t join alliances with them! Be on my side!” Mingyu gave an aggravated groan, reaching out to try and move the chair you were, but you kept moving back.

Laughing bubbled out of the other three, only fueling your own mischief. Wonwoo took the opportunity to get Mingyu’s character off the screen. The latter howled in frustration, feeling the controller vibrate in his hand. When his character was fully out of the round, you relented and moved, feeling your heart break a little at the kicked puppy expression on his face, clearly defeated both in game and mentally.

“ Mingyu-ah, I’m sorry.” You let out but Seokmin spoke after you.

“ Don’t apologize to him! He does the same thing! It’s revenge for all the stuff he does!”

The room was bathed in laughter again. Subconsciously, you raised a hand and ruffled Mingyu’s hair, something you ended up doing a lot with Kazuki when hanging out, grinning along with everyone. Once realizing your actions, you pulled your hand away as if burned, pushing the chair further away.

“Ah- Shit, Sorry.” Eyes wide, you see even Mingyu was looking at you, however his expression was more of giddy energy, already big eyes opened fully with the smallest hint of a toothy smile on his face..

“Don’t worry, Mingyu thrives on physical affection.” Wonwoo’s voice had your eyes moving to him. “ A little too much if I may add.”

Mingyu was still looking at you with glittering eyes and you debated on doing what you and about every Carat on the planet wanted to do; play with his hair. You pursed your lips in contemplation but the more you made eye contact with him, the more the temptation was there…

“ You aren’t making this easier to resist.”

“Don’t, then you can go online and tell everyone how fluffy and soft my hair is.”

“...You drive a hard bargain.”

And what was how you found yourself styling small braids into his hair as he played. It kept your hands busy. Each time one of them asked if you wanted to play you declined, content with what you were doing. The buzz beneath your skin told you Jihoon was close-ish, probably somewhere on the floor to clean up after his workout.

You were able to sense him growing closer before the door even opened. You were on the second handful of little braids when you stated that fact. “ Jihoon is almost here.”

Not even lifting your head from your hair styling session, Jihoon pushed the propped door open, freshly showered, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, and a small hotel towel around his neck to catch any droplets of water.

“ Why are you all staring at us?” Jihoon asked, causing you to lift your head and take notice of the eyes on you, you didn’t even notice Mingyu had moved to look.

“ Ruby-ah said that you were almost here and you just…showed up.” Mingyu spoke up, brows furrowed in confusion. “ Can soulmates do that?”

“ Oh, yeah, I thought it was normal.” The shorter man just shrugged. He paused for a brief moment and your chest tightened with what you assumed was envy.

Out of instinct, you pulled your hands away, leaning back into the desk chair and propped your socked feet up on the mattress. Stepping further into the room, Jihoon forced Mingyu to scootch over, taking the spot on the edge closest to where you sat. The envy still rumbled below the surface but thankfully much less now.

“ Seungkwan and Vernon never said anything like that.” Wonwoo tilted his head in question, one eyebrow raised.

Seokmin snored out a laugh. “ Maybe they are just weird.”

That was going to be something you would google later.

A chorus of chimes echoed through the room.

Taking your phone out, your heart dropped at the notifications from both Twitter and Weverse. Quickly you opened the Weverse app and pulled up the announcements.

[Notice] Confirmation of Member’s Soulmate Found

Hello,

This is Pledis Entertainment.

We would like to provide you with some information regarding SEVENTEEN member Woozi’s current soulmate status.

Within the last 24 hours, the member has confirmed that his Soulmark Timer has run out and the bond has been solidified between himself and his soulmate. The artist’s soulmate who only wanted to share their first name, Y/N, does not wish to make a comment at this moment, but we ask fans for kind consideration regarding their privacy.

At this time, SEVENTEEN will be remaining in America as scheduled for the next few days and will return to South Korea where they will rest before starting the Asia leg of the BE THE SUN Tour.

Woozi’s soulmate will be joining on future travel and event plans due to the demand of the group and seriousness of Soul Withdrawal Symptoms.

No other member has found their soulmate at this time.

Thank you.

Your breath caught in your throat, reading over the notice one, twice. You zoned in on your phone screen, taking calming breaths to help process the fact that it was real. Your name was posted online beside Jihoon’s, telling the world that he was the first member – outside of Seungkwan and Vernon – to find their soulmate.

In that moment you felt like the world had stopped around you. All at once you went through any and every emotion that had wracked your brain earlier for this very moment: fear, anxiety, vulnerability, insecurity, overwhelmed, and so many more.

You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until the phone screen was ripped from your vision and soft hands were lacing your fingers together, grounding you to the current existence. A warmth from within attempted to calm the roaring storm inside your soul, it gave you just enough stability not to burst into tears. Refocusing now, you notice he was crouching on the floor in front of you, looking up at you with immense worry. Guilt began to creep up.

“ Take a breath for me, it’s okay.” His words came out strained, the discomfort from your emotions evident.

Between breaths, a labored sigh wheezed out of you. “I really…need to stop…getting so…emotional.”

One of his hands released yours and ever so hesitantly raised it to hold your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your skin gently.

“ I’ve seen more tears of out Soonyoungie. This is nothing.” He teased, voice barely over a whisper. “ It’s a lot for anyone to handle.”

“If you guys are going to flirt, get a room.” Seokmin stated dramatically, Mingyu joined in with a fake gag. Joshua and Wonwoo just snickered in the background.

Jihoon set his jaw and reached over with the hand once on your cheek and pinched Mingyu who yelped and smacked his hands away. Thankfully, you let just a small amount of your horrible feelings wash away, even bring yourself to laugh at the comment.

“ Do you guys have to be such brats?” Jihoon tsked, an unamused expression making its way onto his face..

Just as they did through a computer screen, the childish antics and simple humor brought you a piece of happiness. You were lucky. Being soulmates with someone from a group that brought you joy was something you wouldn’t take for granted.

You gave a firm squeeze to Jihoon’s hand, watching as your soulmate turned his attention back to you. His expression softened instantly, no harsh lines seen between his eyebrows.

“ Thank you.” Speaking softly, you placed your other hand atop his, shaking your head with a hint of a smile on your lips.

You swore you could feel him swoon.

“ Noona, do you have a favorite song by us?” Chan sat on the floor of your hotel room, a paper plate and an obnoxiously large slice of pizza placed on his criss-crossed lap.

Just as you promised, Jihoon, maknae line, and yourself were sitting in your hotel room in a little circle with the pizza box before you all. Out of generosity, you had ordered enough pizza for the members but the handful of you secluded in the quietness of your room.

You were mid-bite, covering your mouth with your hand as the question wracked your brain. That question wasn’t straight forward, your mood played heavily on what was your favorite, hell even the season could alter that.

“ Wah, Jihoon-hyung looks like he wants to know.” Vernon laughed through his eating.

Out of the corner of your eye, you take notice that Jihoon’s eye opened wide with curiosity, a faint pink color dusting over his cheeks. He stayed silent, trying to settle his expression to natural as he continued to eat his pizza, letting himself lean against your shoulder.

You moved your head back and forth, running through their discography in your head. “ When I’m sad, Hug or Fallin’ Flower, more to calm me than make me happy, you know? When I’m happy, Snap Shoot, Swimming Fool, and To You. If I’m vibing , Chili. Picking a favorite is hard, but I think Spotify would say it’s To You or Run to you.”

Chan was beaming at you, smiling between each bite and scrunching his nose as he grinned. “ Do you like my line in Snap Shoot, Noona? Wah, if we knew you were hyung’s soulmate I could have made Seungkwan-hyung go and make you dance or sing during it! Or Aju Nice!”

The thought had you shuttering, clear horror on your face. Quickly you shook your head. “ If you ever do that or even think about it, I will soon know exactly where you live.” Your eyes mainly landed on Seungkwan.

That only had Chan cackling, joined by Seungkwan and Vernon. Against your arm you felt Jihoon shake in a laugh.

“ I would probably freeze up and fail! The big screen is already intimidating when you see other people on it but putting yourself there?!” You rambled, exasperated at the very idea of it. “I couldn’t even get on the stage for a school play! ”

And Chan was now on his back, barely holding it together enough to palace his plate aside. You hear Jihoon laughing now, pure childlike joy. His eyes were closed, nose scrunched up and his mouth wide open in a smile. Vernon’s gummy smile was shown and the deep rumble of his laugh was heard alongside Seungkwan’s, the latter’s face lighting up in delight.

“Don’t laugh at me, I’m serious!” You whined in English, using a napkin to cover your face to hide the flush on your face, batting a hand at Jihoon’s arm. “ Just because everyone else in the room can perform without an issue, doesn’t mean everyone in the world can.”

Chan pleaded for you to stop though you weren’t particularly doing anything to stop him. He gasped for air, Vernon patting his leg to provide some comfort for the distress he was putting himself in.

From anyone else's point of view, this would look absurd, but to you it felt like an evening in your apartment with Jamie and Kazuki. It put your soul at ease that you would have people that you would still be able to rely on. You also hoped that they would grow comfortable enough to rely on you.

You felt like you talked for hours, well you did but that was besides the point. The pizza was long gone and none of you made a move to get off the floor. You found yourself leaning a majority of your weight against Jihoon, feeling the subtle buzzing electricity under your skin at the contact. Unwillingly, you were nodding off at something Seungkwan was talking about, shaking your head to try and stay awake. Gently, you felt a hand move your head. With your soulmate being the closest, you let him rest your head on his shoulder. You attempted to fight against the drowsiness but lost and drifted off.

Waking up in your bed tucked under the comforter was a little surprising. The room was bathed in majority darkness, the curtains drawn open letting in light from the moon and the city's skyline. Prepared to fall back asleep, you shifted over onto your side, tugging the blanket closer to you but something held it down. Lifting your head through the groggy haze, you laid eyes on not something but someone sitting up against the headboard, arms crossed, head back, and clearly asleep.

Letting your eyes focus, you sighed with fondness, seeing Jihoon knocked out. You propped yourself up on one arm, reaching out and shaking his shoulder to rouse him. Quietly you called his name but he barely stirred, leaning away from your touch, a pout slowly forming on his lips. Once more you tried to wake him but he slept right through it.

In defeat, you sat up fully, already knowing you had to change out of your jeans, however you couldn’t let him sleep like that. To the best of your ability you got him under the covers, hearing soft murmurs. He fought you, oh did he fight you, until his head hit the pillow and you pulled the comforter over him. You grabbed a pair of sweatpants from your bag and changed in the bathroom before getting back into bed, using an extra pillow to place between the two of you as a barrier.

As you settled in, you make sure he was tucked in enough to your standards.

“Goodnight, Jihoon.” You whispered and you fell asleep once more to the soft sounds of the other’s breathing and the mellow buzz of your soul bond.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #seventeen jihoon #woozi x reader #svt woozi #soulmate au #seventeen soulmate au #seventeen fic #svt x reader

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rain-dom · 5 months ago

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[MtF Transformation] The Best Night.

It was a chilly, dark night. Ian was bored, tired from a long day at work. Mulling over the myriad of people he had to deal with during his shift as a cashier at a supermarket at the superstore, Jargon. Exhausted parents, annoying children, entitled elderly people - all of them blurred together into a bland, colorless gray.

But, there was one woman that stuck out from the bland crowd.

A mysterious girl, with long black hair, wearing a black dress and a jacket, and small black boots - as goth as they come - came over to his check out line. At first, he wasn’t all that impressed - she was just another customer to him. But the way she talked to him, taunted him…awakened something in him he never felt before. She slid him her number on a black post it note, then walked away with a wink, virtually disappearing into the crowd. He had to know who she was, and why she was making him feel these feelings.

He texted her, saying he really wanted to meet up with her at his apartment at 9am. She agreed, adding that she might be a little early.

Ian put his phone down, eager to finally meet this girl that was taking up so much of his mind. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he opened the door. It was her.

“Oh, wow,” Ian said breathlessly, “I didn’t know you were going to be here this early.”

“Well, I did say I was going to be a little early.”

“Oh, so do you reside nearby?”

“Hmm, let’s just say…” she said as she got close to his left ear, “I like to go *fast* when I travel.”

Ian had never felt so weak at the knees. “Well, um. Would you like t-to come in?”

“Yes, please. And it’s Katelyn by the way, but you can just call me Cat.”

The two of them went to Ian’s room, painted green years ago, a blue bed and a brown desk next to it, a window that gave view to the parking lot. His room was also adorned with pictures of his favorite rock bands.

“Sorry if it’s a little bit of a mess,” Ian said, gesturing to the small pile of clothes next to his bed, and the bed itself, which wasn’t made.

“Hm, it does look like it needs a tidying up. I have a trick that’ll fix that right up,” Cat said with a smirk. “Wanna see?”

“Uh, sure I guess.”

Cat closed her eyes and put out her arms, which started glowing pink. Ian watched in awe as the clothes were folded, and his bed was made.

“I…h-how did you do that?”

“Just a little thing called magic. I’m a witch. And no, this isn’t a prank - this is very real.”

“Oh…oh, my god. That’s why you came here so quickly!” Ian said, as he took a step back. “Wh-what are you going to do to me?”

“Well, I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re asking.

“I, uh. This is…a lot to take in.” Ian said as he shook with anxiety “I know I should be scared, which I am, but I’m also very intrigued…what else can you do?” Ian asked curiously.

“Hm. I can manipulate physical matter. I can move stuff, make stuff, and rearrange existing matter to make them into something…new. Would you like another demonstration?”

Ian paused for a moment. “Fuck it, go ahead.”

Cat smirked again. She went through the same process again, but this time she shrank his clothes, turning one of his black shirts into a white, soft, off shoulder crop top and his gray sweatpants into a pink skirt.

“So…how do you like it?”

Ian walked over to his now cute, girly clothes. He picked up the white top, rubbing his fingers over the soft but firm linings. He felt his heart skip a beat, his face full with a red blush.

“I can switch them back if you don’t like them, by the way-“

“No! This is…this is really awesome, actually. As a matter of fact…” Ian turned around and looked at Cat. He paused for a moment his hands clasped together, his gray eyes looking down, then to the left. Finally he took a deep breath and looked up at Cat. Could you try, maybe…changing me? Into a woman?”

“Oh? That’s a surprise, albeit not a very uncommon request.”

Ian turned his head and looked away, embarrassed. “I-I just want to know what it’s like, y’know?! It’s always been at the back of my mind, and, since you’re a literal witch, I could maybe…try it with you?”

For a moment, Cat actually looked surprised. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows went up, then returned to her sultry, confident expression Ian was used too. “Well then. It’s your lucky day, because gender transformations are always the most exhilarating.”

Ian’s eyes lit up.

“With that said, while this transformation can be very physically, emotionally and sexually pleasurable, the feelings during the transformation will be quite intense. Are you up for that?”

“I can. I can handle that.”

“Good. And, if at whatever point you want me to stop the changes or to revert back to your original body, just say so, and I’ll make it happen.”

“O-oh! Okay.” Ian said, smiling shyly, holding his right arm.

Cat looked him up and down, noticing his body was the same as when she met him at Jargon - so tense and closed off, his shoulders forever tense as well.

“You seem tense. Would you like me to call off the transformation?”

“Ugh, no! I’m sorry I’m so anxious. This is actually my first time doing anything sexually with anyone.”

“Oh, there is nothing to be ashamed of. By the end of the changes, you will know nothing of the sort. Besides…” she said as she started to walk towards him, her hazelnut eyes meeting his, her sparkling dark red lipstick that gracefully danced on her signature smirk, her lips glistening in the moonlight. “I think you'd be so cute as a girl, especially with those beautiful gray eyes. I’ll make sure this will be the best night you’ve ever had.” Ian’s face felt hot, and his member started to make itself known through his casual gray shorts. He could not tell if it was just the fact this very attractive girl was so close to his face, or if he was so excited at the mere idea of being a woman.

Maybe, it was both.

“First,” said Cat as she walked behind him, “let’s start off with your face.”

Ian felt a tingly sensation, as if little, soft fingers were messaging his pale face, his hair, and even the inside of his skull, even though Cat wasn’t touching him at all. It felt so pleasant. His angular face started to soften at the edges, his face became smaller, and his brown hair became slightly longer. His neck shrunk in width as did his Adams apple.

“Mmm…ah…mnn…” Ian moaned softly and closed his eyes as the changes started to feminize his face and even more subtly, his voice.

“How does it feel? Good, right?” Cat asked behind him.

“Yes! Yes this feels- mmph wonderful!”

“Now…let’s move onto the next part.”

Cat put her hands on his chest, and started to rub around the area of his nipples in a slow, circular motion, making them grow.

“OhH!” Ian exclaimed in a pitch higher than he was used to, as he felt his pectorals - now more recognizable as small boobs- pushing outwards.

“They’re soo- nngh sensitive! So soft…”

As Cat continued to rub his chest, Ian’s broad shoulders - and more generally, his frame, - started to shrink as well, his arms and hands shrinking in tandem.

“Would you like me to rub your new girls a little faster?”

“OhH god, yes!” He said in between deep breaths.

As Cat rubbed his boobs faster, they grew in size, now actually noticeable through his white t-shirt, which was seemingly growing bigger by the second. They kept growing until they were C cups.

“Ah…oh! Ah!” Ian moaned as the last bit of breast tissue conformed to Cat’s will, with Cat massaging his new assets.

“Mm…ah! Hah! This…this is amazing!” Ian exclaimed in arousal, with sweat starting to beat down his face.

“It sure sounds like it. Now, let’s fill that empty butt of yours.”

“Mngh! Huff! Oh!” Ian felt his behind push out and his waist expand, with curves forming and becoming more and more pronounced. His gray shorts started to slide off his frame as his legs shrunk in length, and his thighs thickened.

Cat put her hands under Ian’s now plump asscheeks and groped them, and whispered into his ear, which was now slightly obstructed by his slowly growing hair, “Do you want me to smack your new fat, juicy ass?”

“Y-yes, please!” Ian begged.

“Then, get on the bed.” Cat commanded.

“Mm-hmn” Ian nodded and climbed onto his bed and set his head on the pillows, and let Cat slap his ass.

“Oh! Ah! Ohh! Yes!” Each slap allowed his right buttcheek to grow first, the continued expansion not as significant as the original, but pleasurable nonetheless. His left buttcheek to grow next, and finally, his hips and thighs, which had the least amount of growth.

Cat stopped after the twentieth smack to his ass.

“Hah…hah” Ian was now sweating profusely, and so, so turned on, as if a dam that was built to be impenetrable was about to burst, letting out everything it’s been holding back. He had never felt so good in his life.

“Whew,” Cat said as she wiped her brow, working up a sweat after all of this hard work. She was starting to feel turned on by Ian’s loud moans, which were becoming more and more feminine and high pitched with each change, no matter how big or small.

“Wow, Ian. You’re giving me quite the workout. Let’s take a quick break and take a look at your progress. Sit up and take off your clothes.”

Ian rolled over and got up, and practically ripped off his white t-shirt. As he brushed his now-middle-lengthed hair out of his eyes, they revealed to him his new body: his feminine shoulders and physique, his new boobs, his soft skin. He gazed at the new sight, in awe of the changes. His hands moved to touch his feminine face, his neck, whose Adams apple nearly completely disappeared, and his breasts, to which he groped and massaged.

“Mmnn…ohh,” he moaned, enjoying the feeling of his new, sensitive nipples, and soft breast tissue.

He loved his new high, soft voice, that ticked out of his soft, red lips. He loved his soft skin, his breasts, his decent ass, and his slender legs. He wanted to see more of his new body.

“Wow, look at you, enjoying yourself. You look so cute with your new face.”

“Oh, th-thank you!” Ian said, blushing and tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“Is it okay if I call you cute or cutie, by the way?”

“Yes, absolutely! I love being called cute!”

“Heh heh…you know…you're really turning me on, all hot and bothered.” She striped off her jacket, dress, boots and underwear, revealing her B cup size breasts and pale, naked body.

“Oh…wow. You look beautiful!”

And with that, Cat started to blush as well.

“Th-Thank you. Ahem. Now…do you want to take care of the rest?”

“I look, I feel…so good! Yes! I…I want to care of the rest.”

“Then I think you know what’s up next.” Cat said as she gestured to Ian’s crotch.

His soft hands and fingers moved down to his waist, noticing his hair on his stomach having long since disappeared. He noticed the throbbing bulge, one that hadn’t shrunk that much, between his now slender legs, being held down only by his shorts and underwear. He pushed his shorts down to his thighs, then his feet, which were no longer able to fill his size 11 men’s black and white shoes, and let his shorts fall off his feet. Last to go were his underwear, his red trunks. As he pushed them off, they slid over his dick, freeing it from its former prisoner. It immediately went from laying on its side to jolting up, revealing a very hard, still very much functioning, very excited cock, with pre-cum already leaking out.

He needed relief. And it could not be the same old quick fap-and-cum, one-and-done he was used to.

He wanted, no, needed more.

“Hm. Looks like someone needs a helping hand,” Cat teased. “Want me to take care of it for you?”

“Yes! Yes! Please, push this thing inside!” Yelled Ian, practically salivating at just the idea of his penis and balls becoming a tight, moist, wet vagina.

Cat started by pushing down on Ian’s dick with her palm.

“Oh! Ohhhh, god!” Ian’s body quivered, and shook with how intense the shock of pleasure went through his body.

Although Cat had been pushing down with her two hands, Ian’s dick wasn’t budging.

“Huff! Nngh! Damn, this thing is stubborn.” Cat huffed. “Ian, it’s not pushing in! Could you help me with it?”

Ian nodded. He put his hands on top of Cat’s, and began pushing in.

“Hnnngh! Hnnnnngph!” Ian struggled. “Come on, stupid thing, go away already!” He yelled.

Finally, it had lost strength, and began to shrink.

“Hnnng! Oh! Ah! Yes!!” Ian moaned in pleasure. It was like a million tiny bombs of lightning were exploding in his dick and balls, as they slowly shrunk into him.

“Nngh! Yes! Keep going!” Yelled Cat.

His cock shrunk faster and faster. They were really making progress now.

“Huff, huff! How does that feel so far?”

“Oh! Ah! Mmph! Yes! I-it feels wonderful!” Ian moaned in ecstasy.

Suddenly, however, his dick and balls stopped shrinking, still flexing and moving, as if they were the last gasps of Ian’s masculinity were fighting back against the feminizing process.

“Ian, this last push is going to be real intense, so brace yourself!” exclaimed Cat.

Ian nodded.

As they both pushed Ian’s dick inside, he felt an overwhelming flood of pleasure from that part of his body. He couldn’t contain himself anymore.

His head threw itself back. “Ohhh! Ohhhh! Hah! Oh gaawwwd!!”

As he lifted his head up, he could see his dick finally collapsing into itself his balls folding inward.

His have then met Cat’s. His eyes looked so lovingly at Cat, his lips turned upwards. For Cat, this spoke louder than words.

As their hands pushed gus dick inwards, Ian let out one last, loud, unapologetic series of moans.

“Ohhh, ahhh, yes!! Ohhh! Ohhhh!! Oh, god- *Ah! Ah! Ahh! Oh! OH! AAHHHH!!!” He moaned as he threw his head back, his lower back arching upwards, as he came one last time with his dick, and cum squirted all over the bedsheets.

“Hah…hah…hah.” Ian felt out of his mind. He had never felt more at peace, more whole, in his life.

“So…huff, huff…” Cat was out of breath herself, long, straight black hair a mess. “How…how did that feel?”

“That, that was…fantastic! Amazing!! I-I can’t even put it into…words!!” Ian exclaimed, her newly minted smile shining boldly for Cat to see.

Cat fell next to Ian. They let each other collect themselves for a few minutes before they said anything else.

“Thank you for your help, especially with that dick of yours. That thing was, well, a dick.”

Ian laughed. She actually felt so happy, so warm inside. And not just because of the amazing, mind bending sex and transformation that had just occurred.

“I…never thought something like this could ever happen, but now…” Ian started to caress her body again. You’ve made my dream come true! Thank you…” Ian turned to Cat, the two of them looking at each other with more than just lust in their eyes.

“I am more than happy that I could help, girl. I mean if you’re okay with me calling you that-

“Yes! Please, do call me a girl! I feel so happy when you call me that. And, cutie. That too.” Ian smiled and chuckled.

“Oh, well-“ Cat blushed, “should I call you by a new name as well?”

“Mm…you know what? Yeah! You can call me…Ianna.”

Cat snickered. “Ianna? Really? How original.”

“Less original than Katelyn? Also, your nickname is literally an animal.” Ian, now Ianna, laughed.

“Well, it…makes me more mysterious.” Cat said as she folded her arms.

“Oooh, so edgy!” Ianna said as she got top of Cat.

“Your laugh is so cute now.”

“Yeah…I actually feel like I don’t have to on guard as much anymore, y’know? Less..afraid.”

For a moment, they stared at each others eyes, breaking only for their lips, then kissed.

“Maybe I should teach you some magic.” Cat suggested. “Would you be interested in becoming a witch?”

“You know, maybe I will. I would love change people and make them feel as good as you’ve made me feel tonight.

“Mmm…so. Are you ready for round two?”

Ian perked up. Wait, there’s a round two??” She asked.

Cat giggled. “Only if you’re up for it - it would be your first ride using these new upgrades. I’m going to show you just how good it feels to be a girl.”

“I am sooo up for it! And maybe this time…”

Ianna moves to her ear, and whispers:

“You’ll have the best night.”

Cat’s face went beat red.

#m2f #m2f transformation #tg story #tf story #gendertransformation #maletofemale #tgcaptions #transformation #tftg #mtf transformation #feminization kink

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maxverstappensflatbrim · 1 year ago

Text

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [1]

chapter one, act one: antichrist

~first chapter of my Matty Healy x bandmate!OC, more coming soon

January 3rd 2010

"No."

"Please?"

Tommie groans twirling around on her cousin's bed so she's lying on her stomach instead of her back and looks over to where he's sitting at his desk chair.

"No, Adam, I don't want to."

"No," He says, in his usual 'I know better than you' tone, tilting his head in a way that reminds her exactly of her aunt, "You're afraid."

She gives him an unimpressed look and goes back to looking over the back of the old Radiohead vinyl she'd pinched from his little shelf of records that's tucked away in one corner of his bedroom.

"I don't wanna be in your stupid X-Factor wannabe band with your junkie friends."

"Please," A sarcastic voice comes from the bedroom door as it's pushed open, the self-made 'please knock' sign obviously meaning nothing to the intruder. The vinyl is snatched from her hands and the single bed dips with the newly added weight, "We're at least BGT worthy."

She rolls her eyes sitting up as he moves the record out of her reach, "Don't mess with me today, Healy."

"Aw," He pouts looking over at her, lashes fluttering in mock flattery, "But it's my favourite thing to do."

"Why do you always have to piss me off on my first day here?" She questions, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

He flashes his smile, wild curly hair falling in his eyes, "Because it's my favourite pastime."

Adam snatches the record back, putting it onto his pile on the floor as he raises a brow, "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Day off to welcome Miss Thomas."

"Day wasted." She mutters from behind him.

Matty mimics her in a high-pitched voice and she rolls her eyes. He grabs one of her ankles and pulls it down to his lap, tickling at her socked foot causing her to squeal and grip one of Adam's plain white pillows as her defence.

Matty flinches as the pillow is brought down upon his head, he dramatically grips his shirt and flops onto his back to look up as he gives his dramatic act of a death scene.

"Tommie!"

She sighs and goes to the door, "Yeah?"

"Your mother's on the phone, she's been calling you. Come down here."

She inwardly groans but forces herself down the stairs. Matty turns to Adam as soon as she's gone. Listening to the footsteps pause at the bottom of the stairs, a faint 'hello?' coming a few seconds later.

"Did she agree?"

"No."

He groans, flopping back on the bed again, curly hair creating a large painting upon the plain sheets. "Why?"

"Said she wants to do A Levels, go to university and- I quote, 'have a chance of making a name for herself'."

"That's what we're doing, making a name for ourselves."

"In a band about driving?"

Matty sighs, "I have a vision."

Adam sighs, muttering under his breath as he twists his chair around to look at the wall behind his desk. Focusing on a picture of him and Tommie when they were kids, back when he still lived in Wales before his dad got the job in Manchester.

"And the vision," Matty continues, lifting his hands in the air in front of him, "Has me upfront, some super hot models on each arm," Adam laughs at that part, and Matty lets out what can be described as a giggle, "Then you on guitar, George drumming away, Ross with his bass... and Tommie, right there with us, strumming her guitar and singing our songs."

"She's not into that stuff, you know that. She's too shy."

"She is not shy."

"Matty, it took her six years to speak to any of you."

He shrugs, "She was younger then."

"The stage isn't the place she should be, she's not comfortable with it, don't force her."

He sighs, "Do you think she'll help us on the album? If this thing goes through and we get the deal, do you think she'll help?"

"Of course she will, she's been with us since the start-"

The door reopens and she walks in quickly, grabbing the hoodie she had left on side before leaving again. Matty and Adam share a look before following after her as she charges down the stairs and out the front door.

"Hey, Tommie, wait."

Adam runs out barefoot as Matty shoves on Mrs Hann's heels, stumbling after them, "Tommie, wait."

Adam catches her arm, brow-raising, "Where are you going? What's wrong?"

She sighs, taking in a deep stuttering breath to try and regain her own thoughts. Everything is a jumbled mess and she shakes her head quickly to focus her eyes.

"My father-"

"What happened?" Matty asks from behind them.

Tommie's voice catches in her throat when she sees him standing there and Adam turns around to him, "Go back inside, Matty."

"What's happened?"

"Just- go inside, Matty."

Adam turns back to Tommie, gripping her hand a little tighter, "What's he done?"

"He's threatening court," She shakes her head and scoffs, "He's not wanted nothing to do with me for fifteen years, Adam, why does he want me now? It seems like when I've stopped trying to have a dad is when he's wanted to be one."

She pulls away to step back, "I'm uh, going down the shop."

"Tommie, come back inside, we'll chuck a film on-"

"No, no, I want some sweets, be back in a bit."

"Tom..."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"Hey."

She sighs slowly looking away from him as she hears his boots crunch on the gravel, "Go away, Healy."

He drops himself down beside her, looking out over the rugby pitch in front of them, the fence restricting the view of the local Wilmslow team trains.

They sit in silence, he doesn't say a thing after his initial greeting, just rests his elbows on his knees and keeps his gaze forward.

She taps her foot impatiently, kicking up dust and rocks as she plays with the strings of her hoodie.

"My dad, he never really stuck around," Tommie says suddenly, "He was there you know, picked me up every Wednesday, dropped me with my grandparents then went out, took me to football games on Sundays. But, it was more like a chore than him doing parent stuff."

"I uh, didn't know."

"I never realised he was a bad dad to me until my little sister turned three, two years ago. I was sitting in their living room. He came in from work, kissed his wife on the head, kissed my sister on the cheek, then sat at the table with my step-brother to help him with his homework before making dinner."

Matty doesn't open his mouth to say anything, which she's shocked by, he just listens, "I just sat there watching, and the entire time all I could think was that I wasn't worth the effort. He does everything for those kids, and I feel so bad because he's an absolutely amazing father to them. But then it makes me wonder, why couldn't he be that for me? Why couldn't he be there? Pick me up, make me dinner, help with my homework?"

She rubs at her nose with her sleeve and then shakes her head as she chuckles through the rising tears, "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," He says quietly, his hand lifts and he hesitates to pat her back but settles on brushing some hair back from her face, "You have a right to feel that way."

She buries her head into her folded arms and grips her elbows as she breathes in deeply, breathing in the scent of the grass and dirt, focusing on the yells of the rugby players in the distance.

"Tommie, look at me please."

She sighs and lifts her head slowly, "I didn't know that. You don't," He pauses, not sure if he should say what he's thinking, not wanting to make the situation worse but he does anyway, "You don't talk about your family much. Just Adam and your grandparents."

She sighs, "You wanna know?"

"I-" He does, he really does. He wants to know everything.

"My single working mother and I live with my grandparents because we can't afford our own place. I'm the oldest sibling, by six years, of four, two brothers, one half, one step, and a half-sister. Don't talk to my dad much anymore, only once a month when he argues with his wife and remembers I exist, my youngest brother, JJ, he has a different mother too, dad speaks to him more than me but not much. He's the only sibling I speak to."

"Why don't you just move up here? For good?"

She sighs, "This is my last holiday up here, Healy."

"What?"

"I've got a job now, retail, it's awful but it's money, and I'm about to do my A levels-"

"You can still come up for the summer."

"And have a whole six weeks off work? I can't do that, I could barely have this week off to come up."

He sighs, "But, you were supposed to come up for your birthday this year. First birthday in Manchester."

She shrugs, tracing over the rips in her jeans, "Don't like my birthday anyway."

He gasps dramatically, hitting her shoulder, "Why? I love my birthday, getting presents and lots of attention, it's great."

"Not when you're the oldest sibling with broke parents." He tilts his head and she sighs, turning away from his gaze, "My mother's at work, most of the time my grandparents are too, and my dad hasn't remembered a birthday since I was five, that was only when my nannie was alive back then. He had her to keep her on track all the time. When she died, that's when it all went downhill."

"It is now my life's purpose to make you like your birthday."

She scoffs, "I'm not like you, Healy. Don't like big things and loads of attention, not made for it."

He shrugs, "It doesn't always need to be like that, it can be quiet, small things."

She shrugs again, then he goes back to the issue of her not coming up for the summer, "Why don't you just quit? Get a job up here for the summer then go back."

"It's not that easy, we need the money. And if I leave and they don't take me back, what then? And I can't risk worrying about that when I need to be focusing on school. If I don't focus on my results, I won't get into a good university, if I don't get into a good uni I can't get a good job. If I don't get a good job with a decent salary then- then I'll never get out. I'll never leave the stupid village and escape the past. I need to leave, Matty."

She runs her hands through her hair, burning her head into her knees. He moves his hand to rub at her back, careful not to startle her. He knows how she feels about touch and boundaries. But when she doesn't flinch and leans back into his touch, he lets his palm lay flat drawing circles into her hoodie.

"You're taking on too much."

She scoffs, "We don't all have rich parents."

He looks over at her now, watching her run both hands through her hair to tuck the stands behind her ears, "Is that what this is about, money? I can help-"

"No," She says quickly, regretting her little dig, "No, I don't want your help. You work hard for your money, in that shitty hippie cafe-"

"Shitty? It's many... questionable things, but it's not... that shitty."

She laughs a little and looks away, "What about the album?"

She sighs slowly, "Healy-"

"We're gonna get one, we are, I can feel it, one more gig, that guy, said he could get us signed up with a label if we record some EP's."

"I'm not in the band, that's your guys' things."

"You're a part of the band, Tommie."

"No, I'm not. I just sit in on your practices with you."

"Okay," He nods, "Answer me this," She hums, "Do you help us by playing guitar?"

"Well, sometimes."

"Yes or no questions."

"Yes."

He nods, "Do you come to every gig with us?- When you're here?"

"Yes."

"Every practice?"

"Yes."

"Did you let me steal some of your work for our songs?"

"Yes- what?"

He chuckles as she turns to look at him quickly, "What songs? What work?"

"My new songs," He says leaning away from her hand that reaches out to hit him, "And your poetry."

"You read my notebook?"

He catches her hand this time when she tries to hit him, "It was open."

"Open?"

"On the kitchen table, I just glanced... for a single second."

"I hate you so much."

She pushes him down, using his head to stand and starts walking away, he scrambles to his feet following after her, "It's really good, and I only borrowed one line."

"Which one?"

"Not telling."

She rolls her eyes, walking on and he has to jog to keep up with her long strides despite having a good few inches on her.

"Vogue."

"What?"

"Vanity Fair."

Then it dawned on her, "That was my best line, Healy!"

He giggles and runs off but she chases after him, shouting down the street, "I'm still not joining your shitty band."

He rolls his eyes, grabbing her arm to drag her towards the old shop in town, "Where are we going?"

"Shops, to cheer you up."

"Ooh," She rubs her hands together with a grin, "You gonna be my sugar daddy now, Healy?"

He swings an arm around her shoulder, smiling down at her, "Of course sugar baby, what do you want, a Ferrari?"

"More of a red bull girl. There's just something about Sebastian Vettel in that race suit." She makes a noise close to a moan and watches the redness spread up his cheeks.

"Well, I can't get you a Vettel, but I can get you something very close."

He moves the hand hanging loosely over her shoulder to push her glasses up her face and then cup over her eyes and a smile spreads across her face as she blindly walks along the path in front of them. "Jenson?"

"Nope."

He stops them, turning her with his hands still covering her eyes. He drops his hand and she looks up, raising a brow.

"Mr. Bolas."

"Even better."

They head into the old charity shop, glancing around the new boxes, Bolas looks up from his desk, peering over the top of his reading glasses.

"New box out the back, Healy."

"Thanks, Mr. Bolas."

Tommie waves at him and he sends a sweet smile before she's dragged by Matty down the old creaking stairs and into the storage room.

He lets go of her to sit crisscrossed in front of the box, taking out the old records one by one, "Ooh, you'll like this one."

She moves the old box of books to sit beside him, taking the old minted edition Black Sabbath record from his hands, "Holy shit, this is cool."

"Swapsies?"

She passes over the box of books she's yet to look in so she can look through the records as he looks through the books, picking out an old battered Tennesse Williams one.

"Hey, I'm doing that for A level this year."

"Have it."

She takes it from him flicking through, smiling at the little annotations someone has put in the play.

"I have his poetry book."

She looks at the Jack Kerouac book in his hand, "I think I've read some of that, it's good."

"Yeah?"

He flicks it open, looking through the book a little, "Woah, that's stupid."

He starts laughing and she nudges his arm so she can look, '1st June the 1975'.

"I've never seen anyone say 'the' before they write the year."

"That's weird, suppose we say it like that half the time though."

He hums in agreement, finger tracing over the words of the page, "1975, Jesus, this book is old."

"You getting it?"

He shrugs then shakes his head, "Nah."

"Fine, then I will."

She adds it atop her Streetcar Named Desire book pushing them aside as she goes back through the records, picking out a few more for herself and some old sixties ones for Adam.

"The 1975." He says again.

She rolls her eyes, "You're not going to shut up about that are you?"

"Nope."

He hears the chime of his phone and digs it out of his back pocket, flicking it open to see the text from the guy he used to go to school with.

"Ah, great." He grins down at the device, typing out a reply.

"What?"

He drags her to her feet, carrying her things for her, "This guy I used to go to school with is training to become a tattoo artist, he's the one that's done all ours. He has a free spot this afternoon."

"Are you getting another one?"

"Yeah, wanna come with?"

"Can I get one?"

"Can you forge your mother's signature?"

She nods without a second thought, "How'd you think I went on that skiing trip? Mam never would've let me go if she knew I needed permission."

He chuckles, putting the things on the counter to get scanned, and leans his side against the table, "What will you get?"

She shrugs, "I don't know, like a circle or something?"

"Why?"

She answers with another lift of her shoulders, "Or a box, like a little frame."

"Why?" He asks again.

"Well, I have like twenty minutes to decide on one. The shape is simple, easy. No pressure, and I can fill it later on, or cover it when I decide."

"What are you having?" She asks as they smile at Mr Bolas before taking the little paper brown bag full of their new stuff.

"Finishing off my we are king's tattoo."

She nods, "We should get a matching one."

"Like what?" She turns to him as he holds the door open for them to walk outside.

He looks up in thought, "1975."

She shakes her head, "That's really stuck with you, huh?"

He nods, "It's just so-" He trails off, "Weird."

He looks back down at her when he finishes and she shrugs, "Sure."

"Sure?"

"Why not?"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"Look."

Tommie looks up from where she's waiting, tearing her eyes away from the George Orwell book in her hands to see Matty's freshly wrapped tattooed skin. Showing not one, but two new tattoos. '1975' then a large rectangle box, much like the one she'd decided to have.

"Are you joking?"

"What?"

She moves her arm to show her 'the 1975' tattoo on her wrist. "You said the."

"Well," He shrugs, sitting beside her, "It looked a bit silly."

She moves her untatted arm to punch at his one and he gasps when she hits the freshly inked skin. "Ow."

"Good," She turns away, "Now I look like an idiot. I don't even know anyone born in 1975."

"It's cool." He tries to reassure and he glances at him in the corner of her eye, "Cool?"

"Yeah... cool. Edgy. Modern."

He nods, more to reassure himself than her and turns away, "I'm sorry, it's still matching."

"Let's go before I kill you."

"You could never."

"I could," She shrugs, "And with the amount of criminal minds I watch, I could get away with it."

He nods in thought, "You know what else you could get away with?"

"Hmm?"

"Being in a really cool band."

She rolls her eyes, "Matthew..."

He sighs, "Come on, Tommie, why not? What's stopping you?"

"A lot actually, money, job, school, mam-"

He rolls his eyes, "You can still go to school, I mean, you've basically finished your GCSE's anyway."

"I'm not skipping out on my A levels, I have dreams, Matty."

"Dreams?"

She nods, "I want to be a writer, and do good things. My English teacher, she entered me in a poetry competition, if I win I get to publish my own book."

He watches the light rise in her eyes, her cheeks tint pink as she hides herself behind her hair, keeping her gaze low on the floor and tilting her head down so he can't see over the baseball cap.

"That's great, but what then?"

She looks up at him raising a brow, "You release a poetry book, it's good, yeah, but what happens to it? You die, grow old, then years later they study it in schools making kids hate it and not actually understand it, so what?"

"So what?"

"Turn it into songs, put it out there for people to study now, to enjoy, make music, let people feel what you feel-"

"They can do that with poetry too, you know."

"You love music, you're the biggest music geek I know despite your lack of any knowledge of anything outside of Arctic Monkeys-"

"Hey, I like the Cure too."

He ignores her comment and continues on, "You're the second best guitar player I know- after me of course- you can sing really good, don't deny it, I was at Mrs H's birthday I heard you-"

"I was drunk-"

"Still good."

She sighs and looks away from him, it's a sharp sigh, in and out quickly. Her hand grips the tote bag on her shoulder, the plastic wraps around her tattoos scrunching up and making an awkward uncomfortable sound.

"What if it goes wrong?" She asks, he closes his mouth at that watching her ginger eyebrow raise in question, "What if we spend years hopelessly putting out music for no one to like it, for nothing to happen, what if we're stuck living in a dingy van in the middle of a field because none of us have a single qualification between us to get a solid job?"

"That's a lot of what ifs," He says, then he grabs her hand, squeezing it, "But what if we made it?"

"Matty, I-" She sighs pausing in their walking to look up at him, "I'd love it if we made it, if we got to share your music with everyone, but, it's not me."

"But it can be."

"Matty."

She turns slowly, but he catches her arm, walking around her to stop her from going on, "No, listen please."

"I have only ever dreamed of one thing in my entire life," He says desperately, "One thing. This band, me, Hann, George, Ross and you, the five of us. Just like those summers in the shed."

She turns her whole head away and he moves to be in her line of sight, "Please, Tommie."

"I-" She sighs again, "I'll help. But, I'm not being in the band, but I'll help. I'll help Adam with guitar riffs and look over your lyrics if you want. I'll even let you borrow, with credit, some lines from my notebook."

"Great, welcome to the band."

"Not in the band."

"Tommie," He says sternly, "You've always been a part of the band."

~thank you for reading! part two is being published later on today with the next parts coming next week! Sorry that the first few chapters and slow and jumpy, just trying to get to the good parts

#matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy x oc #matty healy imagine #matty healy x reader #adam hann imagine #adam hann x reader #show me yours matty healy #thanks for reading!

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preciadosbass · 3 months ago

Text

13/8/24 [5x DIYS today + one package!! // key + significant photos at end.]

woke up at 10 and immediately went outside to see boris. [before taking ages to get out of bed, that is.] he was really excited to see me this morning and layed down on my shoes. i stayed outside with him for at least 30 minutes before i started getting paranoid my prevision would show up. once i got inside i got dressed into my silent hill shirt, dark cargo jorts, and various bracelets consisting of a spiked cuff, my chemical romance/sleeping with sirens/pierce the veil/panic! at the disco band bracelets, and a wooden beaded bracelet. all of which being in the colour scheme of black, white, and dark green. i love matching my outfits.

once i was done getting ready, i made a ‘key’ for my journals and added it to my intro, and started writing this. at 11:10 my dad came into my room and told me that my prevision isn’t even coming round so that’s sort of a relief. with that, i went back outside with boris for about 10 minutes until my eyesight started going weird and i could only see yellow because of how sunny it was on the driveway. upon getting inside, i had a cup of tea and asked my dad to help me out with the start of my can tab bracelet as i’m useless at following youtube tutorials.

he did the first bit of pattern until i caught up onto it and then started doing it myself. like i’ve mentioned before, i know i dont have enough tabs so it ended up being a little off the length around my wrist. which is annoying because i’m so close to it fitting but i sent my aunt a picture of my progress so she remembers to keep on collecting can tabs for me lmaoo 😭 anyway, im glad i’ve finally gotten around to doing something with tabs apart from making smaller jewellery/making diy pins as i’ve been thinking about making a bracelet for years now. i always end up collecting my own and then losing the stash. however that trinket box i made has been helping me keep track without them going anywhere and everywhere. [photos at end.]

i did what i could with the bracelet and finished at 12:20. after writing about it, i decided on starting to add the key to the end of every one of my journals. hopefully it’ll make it easier for people to understand what on earth i speak about. i went upstairs to my sisters room at 1:25 and watched her play fnaf security beach again. she got stuck with what the task was pretty quickly, so i decided to just listen while looking up every now and then and make a collage in my journal. i made one out of the leaflets from the premier inn we stayed in + the car park recipts. after finishing, i decided to make another with various other receipts from the weekend [like the receipt from my green day cd]. [photos at end] my sister got up to the part of the game where you need to find a head and use a party pass or something.

i don’t really like the second collage i made, or either of them actually, but its whatever. i stayed watching her game until 2:30 when i went outside with boris. at some point, someone pulled up on our driveway. usually when people do that, they’re looking for an assisted living home just down the road — for some reason the addresses always get messed up. but, he handed me a package. i’m just glad i wasn’t in my pyjamas. on his way back to the car, boris came up to him and he stroked him which was sweet. i called my mum to ask if the package was hers or mine and she told me to open it anyways.

it sort of felt like some kind of plushie though the packaging, but when i opened it up it was just something wrapped up very thoroughly. i ripped open the bubble wrap and saw my black parade gerard way funko pop!!! i was getting worried because technically only one of my packages from depop had come so i was relieved to receive him. i took a picture of him and then set him up beside my concert tickets because that’s where i put all of my important things. i will display him on my desk’s shelf at one point but it’s too messy at the moment and i don’t want him to get scratched or anyting along those lines.

i went back up to my sister after fussing boris outside at 2:40. i thought i was going upstairs to watch her play more five nights at freddy’s but she started showing me horror-ish game trailers. she made me pick out one for her to buy so i can watch her play it. she knows i already really want to watch her play fnaf4 so that was sort of out of the question. i couldn’t choose between this low graphic game with barely any plays or bendy and the ink machine. after somewhat picking, i went downstairs as my parents came back from an appointment/the town centre. i showed them my gerard figurine and they were shocked by the size of him loll

my dad reused the packaging from my gerard funko pop to package a few cds he was selling so me, him and my mum walked down to the post office through the woods. i only really wanted to go to get my steps up but i quickly regretting it concidered today was the day after the hottest day of the year. we snuck round the back garden door just incase boris followed us from the driveway. upon getting there, i picked out some low cal treats for myself and got my sister some sweets. on the way back home, i decided to walk back by myself the road way because i was sure it’d be quicker and less exhausting as the woods is all up and down. me and my parents split up and i got home 6 minutes before them.

once i got back i gave my sister her sweets and sat outside with boris. my vision started going weird again so i had something to drink and sat in my room for a while until my sister came down to call me up to watch her play bendy and the ink machine. i went up and watched while playing mcr + the used cover of under pressure, two songs off mcr live in valencia [nanana and vampire money] before she told me to turn it off as she doesn’t like mcr. because she’s stinky. her favourite song out of the music i listen to right now is all my life by falling in reverse so i played that and we both sang along to it. she’s starting to learn it off by heart now.

i went back down into my room at 6:30 and wrote more of this journal. i continued doing so up until 7:30 when i copied all of the journals i’ve written so far into my notes app just incase i get logged out of this or something. afterwards i posted asking whoever’s reading this right now to let me know who does/does not want to be tagged when i post [PLEASE LIKE/COMMENT EITHER ON THAT POST OR HERE SO I KNOW!!] and went outside with boris for just a minute to say hi. i didn’t plan on going in immediately but it was really cold and he opened the door himself and went inside. i fed him and then went to living room as my dad had made me a cup of tea. i sorted through a few kandi/bead inspiration photos.

then my mum and sister came back from my sister’s karate lesson. i started asking my mum about what i did yesterday as i hadn’t written anything about it until tonight. she didn’t know much as she was out for the first half of the day so i went outside in the garden to my dads shed and asked him about my day instead. i took notes and then went through them with my mum. after everything was somewhat confirmed i went into my room, put on my green day cd and wrote about yesterday.

at 9:23 i decided to make this star out of bendy wire and tiny beads. i made it in the colours of the gay flag, because that’s my flag, but mainly because i love that colour scheme. i unironically put it everywhere/generally make everything in those colours. i finished at 9:45. afterwards i got out a bottlecap and a few beads i cut off thrifted jewellery from my shed outside. i couldn’t make a hole through it so i went out to my dads hut and asked if he could. he said that he can tomorrow with his drill and also do my shells for the windcharm i’ve been planning to make. i went to check on boris and then i made a gecko out of kandi at 10. i was supposed to make his eyes black but the only black beads i have didn’t fit through the elastic i use. i’m not ecstatic over how he came out, but i don’t hate it as much as my first animal kandi attempt. [photos of diy’s at end, warning their both very funky looking.]

my cd ended at around 10:50. i’ve listened to the album before but i’ve never tracked what my favourite song off it is. id say based off listening to it today, ‘jesus of suburbia’ is my #1. i went upstairs to my parents at 11, wrote a bit of this journal, checked if boris wanted to come back inside, and actually finished asking my questions at 12. i let boris in and my mum and sister got into a huge argument afterwards so i went into the kitchen with him and shut the door to drain some of the noise out. i spoke to him for a while until he started scratching on the dishwasher which means he wants to go outside. i let him out at around 12:20 and kept on going to check if he wanted to come back inside. i checked again at 12:50 and got jumpscared by my dad trying to toast a bagel.

i continued checking while sorting through giphy to find more interest related gifs in advance for future journals up until 1 when boris came back inside. he had something to eat, came into my room, and i said goodnight to him at around the same time he came in, and finished at 2. while talking to him i showed him all of the crafts i’ve done today + my gerard funko pop. i like updating him on what i do throughout the day when i’m not with him. i went to sleep at 2:50 after figuring out the first/last name for my killjoy oc [i haven’t decided whether it’s going to be first or last name because i don’t have two yet.]

🗝️ — boris/my cat, prevision/keyworker i have to see instead of being taken back into mainstream education

have a good day/night O_o

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punsmaster69 · 1 year ago

Text

26/OCT/20XX

"Papyrus, sit still! I'm gonna accidentally poke your eye out! ..Wait."

"I WOULD NOT FEEL IT IF YOU POKED MY EYE SOCKET."

"Yeah, I guess that's not a worry with you."

"...."

"But, really, stop moving! I'm gonna mess it up!"

paps has never been the kind of person who's able to be still for very long, and getting his face painted hasn't been any exception.

he really only sits still when focused on something, so i glanced around for anything i could hand him to keep his hands busy.

'a book?

maybe a-'

that train of thought was interrupted by an

"Oops."

followed by a paint sponge dropping into my eye socket.

"...Sans. I dropped the sponge in your eye."

"yeah. i can t-"

frisk started to jam their hand inside, trying to get it out.

"kid-"

"stop-"

"Got it."

"....."

"You good?"

"don't-"

"don't do that ever again."

"Sorry. Did it hurt?"

"kinda just intrusive."

"you gotta ask next time before you start shovin' your hands in someone's skull, ok?"

"Sorry."

"..what're you painting so close to my eye, anyway?"

"You'll see."

they resumed painting with a concentrated look on their face.

"Papyrus."

"YES?"

"If you don't stop moving,"

undyne slapped her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to buckle you in place."

"hey, no buckling my brother to chairs."

"besides, there's a better solution than that."

"hold on a moment, kiddo. i'll be right back."

yep, right where they always are.

a neat arrangement of solved puzzle cubes in different colors and patterns sits proudly displayed on papyrus' desk.

i picked one and headed back downstairs.

"What did you get?"

"YES, WH-"

"HEY??"

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MY BEAUTIFUL DISPLAY, GREATLY PRESENTING MY OWN PUZZLING APTITUDE?!"

papyrus took the scrambled cube from me, and began flipping the sides immediately.

seemed to work, because i didn't hear undyne tell him off even once after that.

——

"Aaaaaannndddd... done!"

"Wait, close your eyes again."

"ok."

frisk added a little more above my eye.

"NOW done."

"cool. what is it?"

frisk flipped a little makeup mirror to face me.

"whoa."

"Whoa?"

they'd painted blue butterfly wings around my eye sockets. frisk's concentrated face while painting made a lot more sense now.

"honestly?"

"i fully expected to be a clown."

"I thought about it, but that's too obvious."

"Plus, I wanted to actually try painting something good."

"Whoa. That's cool."

frisk looked proud of their handiwork.

"done with papyrus' yet?"

"Yeah. Awesome, right?!"

undyne took the mirror from frisk and aimed it at paps.

"OOH!"

"...(WHAT IS IT?)"

"(Fire.)"

"COOL!!"

frisk made a face.

"Do you guys not know any adjectives other than 'cool'?"

"OF COURSE I DO!! I ALSO KNOW 'SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS'!!!"

with a confused look, undyne turned to me.

"Is that even a real word??"

"yep."

"OF COURSE IT IS. HE TAUGHT IT TO ME, AND SANS KNOWS LOTS OF BIG WORDS!!"

"What does that mean, anyway?"

"IT'S USED TO DESCRIBE SOMETHING THAT IS VERY COOL!!"

"All those letters just to say 'cool' again????"

"NO, IT-

"...WAIT, YOU'RE RIGHT. THAT IS JUST 'COOL' AGAIN BUT WITH THIRTY EXTRA LETTERS."

"We GOTTA learn some new ways to describe things."

"Sans! What's another word for 'cool'?"

"magnificent?"

"No."

"stupendous?"

"No!"

"extraordinary?"

"No."

"splendiferous?"

"Why are they all so long?!"

frisk held up their phone.

"Hold on, Toriel wants to see the face paint. Pose!"

paps and undyne put up matching peace signs automatically.

"CAN WE SEE THE PICTURE?"

"Yeah, here."

"......"

"cool."

frisk slapped their palm to their forehead.

——

he was at it for the rest of the night, but papyrus did re-solve his puzzle cube.

i think i'll get him another one soon.

#journal #undertale #sans #papyrus #undyne #frisk #sans and papyrus #sans and frisk #frisk and sans #papyrus and sans #papyrus and frisk #papyrus and undyne

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intriq · 1 year ago

Text

Midnight

warnings: mentions blood, death, little bit of fighting, depression, mentions of guns/getting shot, etc etc NO USE OF Y/N

Part 2 of Little Moon

Part 1, part 2, part 3

Word Count: 5.7k words

Authors discussion n shizzle:

Hi y’all sorry this took so long to do. But it’s here and I’m happy and it’s long as FUCK.

Like it’s twice as long as part 1, and it’s so bad everyone voted I break this up into a 3rd part so like, yea

I’m publishing this while the 2 yr old I’m babysitting is down fr his nap so like woooo

I’d like to thank my beta readers n co owners of Little Moon for reading this shit (I’m sorry if u cried): my bestie aka @deaths-favorite-star , terra, Apollo (Taylor swift and bat brat versions), bri, and lilac

mostly cus without them this wouldn’t even be possible/done lol

let’s get on w this shall we? Hope you all enjoy <3

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

Months have passed since your death.

In those months the children of Bruce Wayne, whether adopted or biological, grieve. All of them mourned you.

There are seldom times your grave is without fresh flowers or some sort of visitor, who either sits in silence or just talks to the headstone in a conversation that they know they’ll never get your input on again.

Your bedroom is in the same state of familiarity, too.

On some days, Alfred has to force Bruce to get out of bed or to even come home.

No one looks at Alfred quite the same anymore, but no one looks at Alfred with the same disgust as Alfred’s own reflection.

✧✿✧

Since the funeral, family dinners went from being twice a week, to just once.

And then they went to once a month, with Alfred having to just watch as the number of people who attended them dwindled, before eventually they came to a total stop.

✧✿✧

Today is another day of distant and silent mourning, as Alfred stands in his room, looking through pictures of you and Bruce as children.

Down the hallway as Alfred looks at a picture of you on your seventh (7th) birthday, he hears Cassandra softly crying down the hall in your bedroom.

During your birthday that year, when you’d turned seven (7) years old, Alfred remembers how the only thing you’d asked for was a cake. Specifically, you requested that he let you help him bake your birthday cake.

Alfred can’t help but smile, even just slightly, as he remembers how big of a mess you’d made when you had attempted to dump the entire bag of flour into the mixing bowl.

He also can’t help but remember that after a long day of celebrating your birthday, it was the first night since you’d come to live with him and Bruce that you hadn’t woken up once because of a nightmare.

✧✿✧

Alfred had been in Bruce’s study when the news came.

A tray of food in hand, he’d been begging Bruce to eat something. Anything, even if it was just a piece of toast that he hadn’t prepared himself.

“Master Bruce, you haven’t eaten in the past few days. Please, take at least one bite.”

Bruce only raises his head, dark circles under his eyes as he just blankly stares at him. An almost soulless look, one that gives a hollow feeling of emptiness.

Across the desk in Bruce’s study are papers, books, various gadgets in states of disrepair or in the middle of being made, as well as schematics for them that have the occasional ring-shaped coffee stain on them.

“Not now, Alfred. I have things to do,” Is Bruce’s only reply, a hoarse and exhausted sounding tone held within his words.

Alfred’s coming words of protest are silenced by the sounds of an alarm going off. Not too loud but neither too quiet, but just enough to make Alfred go silent.

NEW HUNTER DETECTED

That’s what the screen on Bruce’s computer read.

Various screens pop up on Bruce’s computer, each showing feed from different CCTV cameras of a person moving through Gotham and killing vampires in their wake.

The videos in question had been saved from numerous different days in the past few weeks, all adding up together once there was enough saved to trigger the algorithm that Tim had made. Specifically, it was designed to use the cameras around Gotham to track and keep note of Vampire Hunters and vampire attacks. Made solely to help prevent someone else from suffering the same fate you did.

All to prevent them from having to lose someone else.

Bruce and Alfred watch as the videos play, watching as the new hunter the algorithm had detected took out various vampires across the city of Gotham. But what made Bruce rub the drowsiness from his eyes as he leans forward, peering closer at the numerous video feeds was not because of how they looked.

No, it was because of how they moved.

The way they moved was eerily familiar. The way they moved with such precision that only got better and better with each new video feed that grew to be more recent was what had Bruce holding his breath.

While they had kept you from knowing the world of Vampire Hunting most of your life, they hadn’t let you be completely defenseless.

Which was why it was so eerie to see that the way this person was moving, was by using moves he’d only ever taught you. It was unmistakable, really. Bruce had grown up with you, knew most of the little habits you had. He knew you better than he knew himself sometimes.

Bruce is unsure if he wants to let himself grow delusional about whether or not it was who he thought it was. Should he? Could he? Was it even worth the pain it’d bring by opening up old wounds, to bring back the choking hold of grief?

Bruce can feel Alfred staring at him, because he gets that same feeling of familiarity. But it should be impossible. It couldn’t be possible.

But was it? Could it be?

Alfred sets the tray of food down on Bruce’s desk, taking the opportunity to clean up some of its disorganized mess. But it’s only because he doesn’t want to let his mind wander like Bruce’s is. He already lets it wander far enough when he looks through photo albums and when he sees his face reflected off the tea he drinks in the morning, in the mirror, off the windows, and on the screen of Bruce’s computer.

Bruce doesn’t even acknowledge the tray of food Alfred leaves on his desk, only getting up after receiving a notification on the screen that the new hunter was spotted again. Bruce already felt the idea of who it could be creeping into his mind and clinging there, leaving him wondering. Wanting to know. Needing to know, to get his question answered.

“I’ll be out for a while.”

“Will I expect you back for dinner today, Master Bruce?”

Alfred is only met with silence as Bruce grabs what he needs and heads out the door. Which gives him his answer.

“At least come back unscathed, Master Bruce. I don’t think they want you to join them just yet.”

“Don’t act like you know what they would’ve wanted, Alfred.”

Alfred goes quiet again. He understands, after all. He knows Bruce is still hurting, just like the others are. Alfred was the last person to see you alive, and was the only one there when you drew your last breath. They resent him for that.

But they also can’t look at him the same after knowing that it was because of him that you drew in that last gasp of air, held in his arms in that cold, dirty alley whilst the sun rose in the distance.

What makes it worse was just how often you used to like watching the sun rise. It was often when the others finally returned from their patrols, having spent all night hunting down vampires to make Gotham even just a little safer.

And every time, you’d be there, waiting for them. You’d welcome them home, tend to their injuries, and if they had a particularly rough night you’d even make them something, though it was usually some sort of baked dessert, like cake or cookies. And even though Bruce had a disdain for anything overly sweet, he’d still eat whatever cake you’d baked for him, even if it was so sweet it made him feel nauseous.

But no matter how much of a disdain Bruce had for sweet foods in general, he never could quite turn them down when you made them. You always had a smile with comforting words to follow, all to mask just how truly worried about him you were. Bruce knew that you always wanted, deep down, for him to stop being a vampire hunter. But you knew he couldn’t nor wouldn’t stop, so you always kept quiet about it.

If you weren’t so worried, if Bruce did anything to ease your worries, would you have let him know that you wanted to be walked home that night? He’d seen the unsent text message. Tim showed it to him. It’d been easy for Tim to find, with how unprotected your phone was from hackers and the like. You had deleted the message, and Bruce knew why.

It was because you felt guilty about even thinking of asking for his help. You knew how busy he was saving Gotham from vampires, which meant you could never work up the courage to ask him. He’d already helped you so many times before, and you barely could do anything to help him. Would things be different, Bruce thinks, if he’d texted you to make sure you got home safe instead of focusing on his patrol? Would you still be here, alive and well? Would you be here, saying goodbye to him as he heads out, telling him to stay safe?

Bruce forces the thoughts to shake free from his head as he swiftly departs, not allowing himself to turn around, knowing only that his heart would ache when he doesn’t see you there waiting for him. It’s always hurt, because the first few days he’d always mistakenly hear you calling out for him, sometimes even thinks he’d see you in the corner of his eye.

But whenever he’d turn and look, you weren’t there, and Bruce remembers.

✧✿✧

It takes a few minutes for Bruce to track down the new vampire hunter who’d somehow been able to avoid making Tim’s detection system go off, as it should have alerted Bruce to their presence months ago. The night is cold since autumn is right around the corner, and it reminds Bruce of just how cold that night was when you’d been brought to Wayne manor.

Bruce reminds himself to focus as he follows the new vampire hunter, who moves through Gotham as if they know the place by heart. Which almost seems odd to know every part of Gotham, when they’d only been detected less than six months ago. It’s odd, because the system has only had a record of their existence from that time frame. The program couldn’t even pick up data from normal Gotham citizens from before that to link it back to them.

It was odd.

So, so incredibly odd. Almost an off-putting, eerie kind. The type you get when you walk down the street at night and suddenly don’t feel alone, like you shouldn’t be there.

Bruce has this odd, eerie feeling for almost fifteen minutes before he realizes. The world’s greatest detective, they say, and it took him fifteen minutes of following this new vampire hunter to realize they were leading him in a circle. That they knew they were being followed.

When Bruce realizes he’s been following the new vampire hunter blindly for fifteen minutes in that same circle, the vampire hunter seems to know, too.

“Took you long enough to notice, Batman. You're getting awfully slow.”

Why does that voice sound so familiar?

Why does Bruce feel like he’s heard it somewhere before? And why is the familiarity hurting him?

Bruce leaps down from the rooftop he rests upon, landing on the street beside them. That feeling that screams in Bruce’s head that he knows who this vampire hunter is, who they are underneath the mask, is hideously strong. Almost sickeningly so.

But who is it?

Bruce narrowly avoids the punch the vampire hunter has swinging his way when he snaps out of his thoughts. Getting distracted and in a daze when confronting someone isn’t smart, he knows that. He taught Dick and Jason never to lose focus in a fight.

But yet here he is, losing focus.

Jason would probably find it ironic if he were here right now.

“Focus, Batman. Isn’t that what you taught those boys of yours?”

Behind Bruce’s mask, his face is scrunched up in confusion. Contorted as he continues to try and avoid getting hit, because he hates just how easy it is for him to lose focus because of just one thought.

But yet, even despite how familiar these moves are- which are the only reasons he’s able to avoid them even at the last possible moment- there’s something that bothers him, something that he realizes. The vampire hunter who is fighting him, attacking him, isn’t doing it with the purpose most others would.

It’s almost like it’s some sort of warning, as they change the trajectory of their moves to only hit the most non-vital points. Areas where it won’t do anything but leave a nasty bruise.

Which is odd, considering Bruce now realizes after a particular glint in the fluorescent lighting of the street lights that line the roads of Gotham, when the mask of the vampire hunter before him slips just enough when Bruce finally strikes back is that there are fangs.

Fangs.

The vampire hunter right in front of Bruce, the one that has managed to evade program that Tim spent weeks coding, the same vampire hunter that is refusing to strike Bruce anywhere vital as if some sign of guilt, is a vampire.

A vampire, hunting down and killing other vampires. Killing them. In a most brutal fashion, too, based on what Bruce and Alfred saw in the collected video files.

Why is a vampire, a creature that exists to attack and feed off of humans, trying to avoid hurting him?

Why?

Bruce can’t make sense of it. He can’t. There is virtually no reason for any vampire in Gotham, in the entirety of this world, that they would be trying to not hurt him.

Most vampires attempt to kill him on sight. So why isn’t this one? Why is it acting so… odd?

Bruce twists around the outstretched, reaching arm of the vampire hunter as they move in a pattern that Bruce is quickly learning. They never differ or change the pattern, no matter how often Bruce is able to evade their attacks. And with that open window of opportunity, he takes the chance to collect a sample of their DNA.

Some blood, to be specific.

The vampire… hunter lets out some sort of noise of pain. Not quite a shriek, nor a yelp, but just a noise. And just as soon as they started attacking Bruce, they are trying to flee.

And before Bruce can attempt to stop them, they are gone.

But that’s fine, because Bruce has what he came for. A blood sample.

Enough for Bruce to test, to compare to others in the database to see who they are.

Because that is the question lingering on his mind. Who is it? Just who is this new vampire hunter that has been able to leave a growing pile of bodies in their wake in just mere months?

✧✿✧

Bruce doesn’t waste a moment, ignoring Alfred’s pleas to let him look over and treat his injuries, as minor as they are. Just a few bruises that will heal.

He doesn’t waste a moment in immediately getting to work on finding out who that vampire is. Who the vampire hunting down and killing other vampires is, who they are underneath that mask.

After loading the sample into the batcomputer, he waits. Sitting there with so much impatience, so eager to find out who it is. It’s almost suffocating just how badly he wants it to just finish already, to just show him the results.

Alfred takes the opportunity, though, to place another tray full of food in front of Bruce. Because it’s now been a few days since Bruce last ate, and the only thing he’s done is keep himself hydrated.

Bruce attempts to protest, but he relents at the painful gnawing in his stomach. No longer able to keep himself sufficiently distracted to not notice just how hungry he is. But all he does is take small, slow bites, watching the progress the batcomputer is making on the sample.

He eats so slowly that by the time the sample is eighty [80] percent analyzed, the food has grown cold. So cold that it makes Bruce not want to eat anymore, even if he’s barely even touched any of the food. But Alfred is happy anyway, because he’s happy that Bruce has something in his stomach.

Even if it’s not a whole lot.

✧✿✧

When Bruce saw the results, his mouth went dry. His chest felt like an unrelenting void, filled with a crashing tidal wave. The creeping feeling that fills him is just as terrifying.

Alfred had to practically pry Bruce away from the batcomputer, as he mumbles nothing but words about how the results had to be wrong.

How there was no possible way that the blood sample belonged to and came from just who the batcomputer said it did.

So now here everyone was, called here by Alfred. Stated to be an absolute and utter emergency, and that excuses would not be tolerated. It was absolutely mandatory, and emergencies were to be ignored because this was the emergency.

Jason didn’t want to be here. Dick didn’t want to be here.

None of them wanted to be here. Not in the same home they’d ‘grown up’ in, that now held nothing but bitter reminders of a certain death. The death of someone they viewed as a child, a sibling, a parent. A role model.

You. Your death.

But yet here they are. Unable to avoid it, because it was an order. An order that it was an emergency, and no one could turn away when someone raises the alarm about something being an emergency.

When everyone arrives, Bruce is already seated in his office. He almost seems emotionless, like there isn’t even an ounce of life behind his eyes as he simply stares ahead, blankly.

He doesn’t even react when they all close the door behind themselves, his eyes only moving up once Dick stands in front of him.

“Why were we called here, Bruce?”

Dick’s voice sounds tired. But that’s because he is tired. He’s so, so tired of grieving. Of mourning you. Of feeling like that total and utter failure that he knows he is because he got lazy on one stupid patrol.

He’s tired of feeling like this. Feeling like he’s stuck in a deep pit of sadness and guilt, sadness because you died. Guilt because you died when he wasn’t looking hard enough. But yet, there’s also anger.

Anger at himself.

But Bruce doesn’t have the energy to answer Dick’s question, so Alfred does the talking. He shows the videos, also shows Bruce’s encounter with the vampire hunter. Everyone doesn’t quite understand just why there was an emergency meeting being called over a vampire hunter. Sure, it was alarming they were a vampire but that wasn’t cause for an emergency.

That is, until Alfred shows the results from the batcomputer. Results of who the DNA belongs to.

And while some seem surprised, some in a state of utter shock, others just feel.. Numb. Like there was nothing they could feel besides the ever consuming pit of nothingness in their chest.

But everyone is in disbelief, just as Bruce was. Is, more like.

The results showed a one-hundred [100] percent match for the last person they expected. The last person they even wanted to believe it could be.

You.

You, who was supposed to be dead. Buried six [6] feet under the ground in the cemetery on the grounds of the Wayne manor.

Dick wants to feel sick. Jason, too. Damian feels his stomach lurching as well, but he doesn’t let it show. He refuses to.

They all don’t want to believe the results are true, just as Bruce did. Because it should be simply impossible, right? They all made sure you were dead before burying you.

“But that’s impossible. We made sure. Alfred-... He…” The words choke and die in Tim’s throat. But everyone knows what he means. How could they not?

Alfred made sure, because he was the one who dealt the killing blow.

Those are the words that go unspoken. The truth, as disgusting and heavy as it is.

But is it the truth? Did Alfred actually deal the killing blow?

And the truth is, they hadn’t double checked. So lost in their grief over your bloody body that Alfred brought back to the manor they hadn’t even bothered to check and make sure that Alfred had actually shot you in the heart.

They had just assumed he had.

“Alfred… You.. You checked, right?”

Dick’s voice is shaky, as ragged and rushed as his breathing. He feels like he already knows the answer, but god does he want to be wrong.

But the way Alfred clenches his jaw and his eyes focus on that abandoned tray of food from much earlier, food long since grown cold, gives Dick his answer.

“Bruce? You checked, right?”

Tim is the one to ask this time. Because surely, there is no way that Bruce didn’t check and confirm for himself. He’s thorough, he always is. There isn’t any realm of possibility that Bruce didn’t check… Right?

Right?

When Bruce doesn’t answer, there’s a look of disbelief on just about everyone's faces. Bruce Wayne, the ever thorough and the world’s ‘greatest detective’, renowned vampire hunter Batman, didn’t double check that you were dead?

“You checked, right?”

“No. I didn’t.”

And now everyone is left with the horrifying, dawning realization of just one thing. A simple thought that is horrifying to picture, to imagine. To even now be known as a reality.

They’d practically buried you alive.

Everyone quickly dispersed after that. No one could stand to be in the same room as each other, because even though they know they rightfully have no right to blame one another, even though they could blame themselves, it’s all they think about.

You were alive. Alive.

All this time you’d been alive while they mourned you. While Dick blamed himself, while Damian blamed Dick for the reason you were no longer present.

Damian feels sick to his stomach at just how angry he was at Dick in the past. Of the things he’d said to him, blaming him for your death. When you weren’t even dead.

Jason can feel nauseating guilt creeping in his chest, too. Ripping open a swallowing, fathomless pit. He’d screamed at Alfred. Been angry with him, caused him so much pain. Alfred hadn’t even killed you, and he’d been so angry at Alfred.

But the sudden appearance of the vampire hunter is making sense. It coincides with your death, somewhat. With the recovery period a vampire would need to recover from a wound like the one you’d taken.

But it makes so, so much sense.

✧✿✧

Six months ago is when Cass was out tracking a vampire. Well, more-so a large nest of them. One that held connections in various cities, dangerous and leaving an endless, bloody wake of victims.

Perhaps it was because of the grief clouding her mind, that thought of how this group could be the ones responsible. The one responsible for your death.

So she got sloppy. Just a little bit. Enough to make a small error that she normally wouldn’t make.

Cass hadn’t taken the time she usually did to make sure she was sure of just how many vampires actually lived in that nest before she charged into it to take out the vampires that resided there. The information hadn’t been totally accurate, it’d missed a few vampires. So she’d been quickly overrun, out of supplies with not even enough bullets to last her.

But just as Cass thinks she’s going to die for her margin of error, as she decides to resign to her fate because hey, it means she’ll get to see you again, the vampires that are about to kill her are dead.

And there’s a figure standing over their bloody remains that seems oddly familiar to Cass. But she can’t quite place it. At least, she couldn’t then.

“I thought you were taught better than this. This is a stupid mistake, even for you.”

Before Cass can ask the obvious question that’s scratching at the back of her mind, the figure is gone just as quick as they appeared. Leaving nothing evident of their presence, besides the dead vampires.

✧✿✧

They’d all been in some sort of predicament caused by their overwhelming grief that meant they’d needed someone to save their ass. And you had. You’d been there to rescue them from their mistakes every single time.

You’d saved Cass from death, been there to save Jason during the few times he’d been distracted [even if all he’d glimpsed of you was your retreating silhouette], and so much more.

But why had you never shown yourself to them? Why had you let them wallow in their own self pity and grief over your death, when you hadn’t even died?

Perhaps there was an answer to this question they didn’t yet have.

But it was no matter. They had time to get the answer they so desperately wanted. They had a means to find you the next time you appeared, all they had to do was wait.

✧✿✧

And wait they did.

It took almost a week before you appeared again, presumably to lay low for a while after that encounter with Bruce. As if it would stop them from figuring out the truth.

They’d even checked your grave. And god, were they horrified to find that it was empty, just as they’d feared.

But yes, when you’d appeared again after lying low for a week, Jason was the one sent to go talk to you. You’d always had a soft spot for him, after all.

So in his Red Hood gear, he approaches you. He wasn’t even sure if he should be surprised that you seemed to know he was there the moment he’d landed on that same rooftop as you.

But maybe he should, since he knows neither Bruce nor Alfred gave you any training to be a vampire hunter. They wanted you to stay as far away as possible from it, after all.

But perhaps that distance is why you’d never stood a chance the night you’d been attacked. Maybe it was the lack of making sure you were prepared to face the threats that lie in the very shadows they hunted in.

Jason sees your moments from fleeing from the way you visibly tense up and flinch when he steps closer to you, so he stops. He entirely freezes, because the last thing he wants is for you to disappear again.

“We know it’s you,” Is all Jason calls out, paired with your name instead of the nickname he’d always refer to you by. A parental nickname, something similar to the way children call their parents Mom or Dad, but entirely different and unique to you.

Jason watches the way you seem to think, still frozen in a stance that says you're seconds from fleeing, that him making the wrong choice is all it takes for you to disappear. But this time it’d be Jason’s fault that you're gone, not Dick’s.

“We aren’t mad, I promise.”

Bad thing to start off with, Jason. Now you’ll think they all were mad.

“What I meant to say is… We all miss you. When you died- thought you died, we didn’t know what to do.”

Jason is practically grasping at straws. He can see his words aren’t reaching you in the way he is hoping, wanting them to. He’s never been good at the comforting stuff, never been good at talking someone down. Not like Alfred is, not like Dick is. Not like Barbara, too.

What would they even say to you?

Jason feels lost, because just why did they send him to talk to you, instead of anyone else?

Well, not sending Alfred is understandable. He’d been the one to shoot you, and Jason knows that he wouldn’t want to see the Joker again, to be the one to talk to him. But what about Dick and Barbara? What would they do?

Jason doesn’t even know if attempting to continue to comfort you is worth it, especially not when it doesn’t even seem to be working.

“Why?”

Those words slip past Jason before he can even get a chance to stop himself. But it’s a question he really, really wants an answer to. Well, not just want. He needs to know. He needs to know why you’ve let them all sit and rot inside their grief and despair, even as understandable as it may be for Alfred because even he understands that seeing the person who killed you is not easy.

Well, not that Alfred even killed you. Almost killed you, which Jason understands. The Joker had almost killed him then, too. Instead he’d lived because some weird ‘miracle’ left him being some freak of nature, a half human but not entirely vampiric person.

Like some curse.

“I was supposed to be dead.”

“I get that.”

“Plus.. I’m a vampire, Jason. I’m a danger to you guys. What if.. What if I lose control? Like I did that night?”

He knows what you're talking about. The night you’d attacked Bruce before… Alfred shot you. Jason remembers hearing about it from a very heartbroken Bruce, although the heartbreak wasn’t easy to see on the surface. But Jason had known. So had everyone else.

After all, they’d all been pretty much trained and raised by Bruce. They knew what he was feeling- most of the time. Though they couldn’t see it as easy as Alfred did.

“We could’ve found ways around it that didn’t mean you totally avoided us,” Jason says those last words with more bitterness than he should’ve. He knows he has no right to be angry, doesn’t even deserve to be. But he can’t help it, not with how he can only rethink on just how he’d treated Alfred because of it.

“Because of that we treated Alfred-” He cuts himself off, not wanting to spew those words out. Doesn’t even want them to fall past his lips. But it’s far too late, judging by the way your eyes narrow and your head practically snaps toward him.

“What did you all do?”

The venom in your voice when you hear those words is unmistakable. Sure, you wouldn’t be able to look at Alfred the same because he’d been the one to shoot you, but you still understood why he had.

You were a vampire. Something dangerous, and he was doing what needed to be done.

Before Jason can even try to backpedal he’s already spewing to you how everyone’s treated Alfred since you’d ‘died’. Everything. Including how he’d screamed at Alfred after hearing what your last words were from him, down to him destroying his room, Bruce’s new attitude, everything.

“Why would you all do that?” You’d hissed almost immediately after he’d finished telling that tale. Disbelief is just about the only thing you feel, along with those other bitter emotions you were currently feeling.

“He killed- we thought he’d killed you, and we just.. We were angry! Because he took you away from us!”

When had you even marched over to him? Was it while he was speaking those venomous words about how Alfred had killed you, taken you from them? Or was it sooner?

Was he blinded by his own emotions to even notice?

Nevertheless, you're pretty much right in his face, and while Jason is expecting you to scream at him, maybe even yell, raise your voice somewhat, you don’t. Perhaps it’s worse that you sound calm.

“Alfred did what he needed to, what he had to.”

“But you were our family!”

“I do not deserve special treatment because I helped raise you all. Not because I was the person Bruce viewed as a little sibling, and the person Alfred viewed as his own child.”

“But-”

You silence him by raising a hand up, your eyes squeezed shut in the way it does when you’d had headaches in the past, pinching the bridge of your nose between your index finger and thumb.

“Tell me, Jason, would any of you have been able to do it then, hmm? Do you know how hard it was for Alfred to even point the gun at me without his hands shaking? Without crying? Would either of you have been able to pull the trigger instead of Alfred?”

Jason stays silent, and when you open your eyes to glare at him, demanding an answer like those times you’d interrogated him after he’d been stupid and nearly gotten himself killed on those patrols back when he was younger, back when he was just Robin and training under Bruce’s watch.

And he only shakes his head.

“But I promise I’ll be back.. Someday, I don’t know when. Don’t know if it’ll be soon, or if it’s not for years ahead. But I can promise that, okay?”

You really didn’t know just what else to say, honestly. You already had plans for what your coming moves were, for your motives. You knew Jason was wondering that just by glancing at him, even if you couldn’t see his face behind his helmet.

“And if you want, you can try to help me, if it’ll make you.. I don’t freaking know, feel better, I guess?”

“How?”

“You’ll see. It’ll be an answer to my motives and why I’ve been so secretive I guess. I’ll tell you how you can help me later.”

Jason wants to say something, but he doesn’t know if he should even be surprised you already know what it is he wants to say. “Oh, and don’t tell anyone I’m letting you help me. That part stays a secret, got it?”

Jason only nods in reply, and with that, you’ve disappeared from Jason’s sight, leaving him alone on that rooftop to think through his thoughts. And of your words, of course. To muddle them over, to debate whether or not he even accepts the notion of helping you.

With keeping it secret being the price he pays.

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

25 notes · View notes

smolcinnamonchipmunk · 2 years ago

Note

86). "If you do that, you'll be small forever!"

(Not the Belphie one, lol. This one was difficult to go through. I think I’m in a writing slump right now, whereas I feel like I can draw things?? If that makes sense. I’ve also been kind of struggling at my computer this week anyways, so I think I just need to get out of the house more, haha. Anyways, hope you enjoy!)

Count: 2662

“If you do that, you’ll be small forever,” Levi didn’t even look up from whatever new MMO had just dropped with a title a page long that I’d forgotten.

“No, I won’t,” I set my drawing stuff aside and stood up from the beanbag I’d dragged into his room for me to sit on. The floor was only so comfortable, after all. Stretching and feeling some joints pop, I walked up to his door and added, “He’s gonna be gone for the rest of the evening, and I just want to take a quick picture so I can send it to my laptop.”

Levi gave me the barest of glances from his spot, quickly turning his attention back to beating up a high level slime. “Alright, but when Lucifer finds out you stole your phone back for a second, don’t blame me when he eats you.”

“Wasn’t going to,” I replied, opening the door. Stepping out into the hall, I added mockingly, “See you in five, kisses!”

My reward was an embarrassed noise from the demon as I closed the door and shoved my hands in my pockets, making me chuckle in amusement. Levi was the only one of the brothers I could really fluster reliably, something I occasionally took advantage of given that the others managed to embarrass me constantly. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not.

Given that Asmo and Mammon went shopping, Satan went on a Black Friday book store sale (Though, Black Friday down here just meant for Black Magic), Beel dragged Belphie to some new restaurant to share the experience with his twin, and Lucifer was at a supposedly super important meeting with Diavolo, I was able to stroll to Lucifer’s office without any interruption. As long as Levi wasn’t a little snitch, Lucifer would have no reason to even suspect that I stole my phone for a couple minutes to take a picture of a sketch.

Entering Lucifer’s office, the pristine and organized interior was always pleasant to look at with the magic fires in the fireplace and lanterns giving it its warm glow. The only mess was the papers and books on Lucifer’s desk, but that was normal.

“Alright,” I glanced around the room, taking stock of potential hiding spots. “Where would he hide my phone?”

I started with the bookshelves on the balconies in the room, checking the top shelves to see if he thought the height would discourage me given that he was about a foot taller. However, I was a gremlin not above carefully climbing up in my search. But, it wasn’t on any of the bookshelves. And, continuing my search on the main office floor, it wasn’t on the mantle of the fireplace or top shelves of Lucifer’s alcohol walls.

“He wouldn’t keep it on himself, would he,” I murmured to myself, hopping down to the floor from standing on a shelf and wiped it down with a sleeve. My gaze fell onto his desk, the only place in the room I hadn’t checked yet. Unless Lucifer did have my phone on him, it was the only place I could think of it being. Other than his room, I guess, but I wasn’t exactly the type to break into people's bedrooms despite Mammon’s ‘encouragements’.

Walking over to the desk, I opened the drawers one by one, but each one just had office supplies and papers. Until I came across a locked one on the bottom right side.

“Oh? Hello,” I said absentmindedly, crouching in front of the closed drawer. There was a lock etched into the solid wood, mostly hidden, but I saw the keyhole and looked over the lock. I pulled out my keychain from my pocket and unclipped the small lockpick set Mammon had gotten me a while ago for ‘emergencies’. A touching sentiment if his actual reason wasn’t trying to get me to break into one of Diavolo’s safes once.

Before I started lockpicking though, I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to be cursed to Hell (figuratively) and back, waving a hand over the lock and whispering a detection spell. No curses or hexes were on the lock from what I could tell.

“Perfect,” I smiled in pleasant surprise to myself, starting to try and lockpick the drawer. But, there must have been something on the lock because one minute ticked into two with no progress, making me furrow my brow in confusion and focus. This was getting frustrating very quickly.

“Looking for this?”

I jolted in surprise, hitting my head on the edge of the desk. Yelping in pained panic, I popped up from behind the desk, rubbing the top of my head and quickly exclaiming, “L-Lucifer! I was, uh, uh, just looking for you!”

Smooth.

“From under the desk?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. He was leaned on the desk with his elbows, my phone held up in one of his hands.

“Yeah, realized how weak it sounded as I said it,” I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. Trying to hopefully distract him from what I was doing in his office, I asked, “I-I thought you were supposed to be at Diavolo’s until later tonight.”

“Yes, well, Diavolo lied about the meeting to try and convince me to relax more with a cup of tea and some conversation,” the demon rolled his eyes and straightened up. “Said I ‘deserved a break now and again’.”

“Did it help?”

“If you mean, ‘Am I going to let you get away with trying to steal your phone back and lockpicking my desk?’, the answer is no,” Lucifer gave me a wry smile, flicking my phone into the air for a moment before snapping and causing it to dematerialize in a burst of red and black flame.

“Wha-?!” doing a remarkable impression of an angry shocked Pikachu, I stared at the spot in shock and exclaimed, “What’d you do to my phone?!”

“I just sent it to my room,” the Avatar of Pride replied casually, walking around the desk and immediately making me feel nervous. He definitely seemed amused when I took an instinctive step back. “Ah, ah, ah, Kat. I’m sure you knew the risks when you decided to try and get your phone back.”

“I mean, yeah, but I was just going to use it to take a picture of a sketch,” I said, the space behind Lucifer’s desk not offering much space for me to try and slip past the demon, but I did try to keep the desk between us which led to a sort of Merry-Go-Round around it with Lucifer and I. “Can’t we just, like, let it slide? Also, can’t I just not have my phone taken? I’m not a child.”

“You might not be a child, but you’re technically the youngest in this household. Given how little I dole out punishment for you, if I turn a blind eye at you attempting to get your phone back, the others will think that unfair. You know how Mammon is. Besides, I’m sure Levi knows about you coming in here since you were hanging out.”

“Well, yeah, but-.”

“The more you draw this out, the more I’ll draw out your punishment,” Lucifer said, stopping behind the desk and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m sure one night is preferable to, say, a week shrunk around the manor? I’m sure Asmo would love to hold another miniature fashion show with you.”

“That’s fucking blackmail,” I stuck my tongue out in distaste at the thought of a mini fashion show, a bit of dread creeping in at the thought of a whole week at a tiny size. “I never thought you’d stoop so low.”

“Well, it’s either that or I try to chase you down, and I’m hoping this is the more effective of the two,” he gave me a small smile.

After a few seconds struggling with my spite and stubbornness, I sighed and reluctantly walked around the desk with crossed arms. I had many thoughts going through my head that I mostly kept inside, but at his triumphant look I grumbled and growled out, “Yeah, yeah, you’ve won, you pompous fucking dickhead…”

“For someone adamant on establishing themself as not a child, you sure are pouting like one,” Lucifer snorted a little, holding a gloved hand out. My insults did nothing, but he knew it was just me blowing off steam and not meant to actually get under his skin.

“Don’t act like you and the rest of your brothers are above being petty and grumpy,” I retorted, taking his hand. “Or do I have to remind you that I have to occasionally yank on the pact I have with y’all like a leash to keep you from tearing places apart while arguing sometimes?”

“Point taken,” he said, pulling me a bit closer. “Now, let’s start your punishment, hmm?”

“Man, you sure know how to say some comforting words,” I mumbled sarcastically as Lucifer began to whisper the shrinking spell beneath his breath. It took only a second before I felt the spell's effects make me dizzy, slowly shrinking over the span of several seconds until I was about three inches tall on the patterned floor. While I shook off the disorientation from changing size, I was scooped up by Lucifer and lifted upwards carefully. My heartrate picked up a bit at the vertigo and my situation.

"Now, should we play a bit of a game before I eat you," Lucifer asked, holding me in one hand as he shifted his desk chair to be closer to the desk and sat down. Placing me on the top of the desk, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the surface, propping his head up with his other hand.

"I'd say no, but I'm pretty sure you're going to make me play a game anyways," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. As demons, all of the brothers had a bit of a sadistic side that relished in living prey, but it was most noticeable with Belphie, Satan, and Lucifer.

The demon in question tonight though just hummed in thought for a second before saying, “Lucky for you, I’m feeling charitable tonight. We’ll just get down to it.”

“Mmm, I see Diavolo’s tea break worked won-ders!” I yelped the last part of my snarky comment as Lucifer shifted off the desk and leaned back against the leather of his chair. My hands instinctively held onto the fabric of his gloves from the curled fingers around me, looking down with renewed nervousness when I was lifted more towards his eye level. No matter how many times I was picked up, the way my stomach dropped at the shift of altitude was always jarring.

“You enjoy testing your boundaries, don’t you,” Lucifer asked in amusement, a small smile curled at his lips.

“What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment,” I sighed sarcastically, eyes wandering to his other hand as it reached up and tugged the knot of his tie to loosen it slightly.

“Mm, I think that description fits Mammon more given that he never seems to learn. You on the other hand just struggle with a filter,” the demon chuckled, lowering his free hand back down and jolting my attention to his mouth as he lifted me up slightly higher, tilting his head back a little. I felt my heart skip a beat as he licked his lips in anticipation, adding, “However, that just opens plenty of opportunities for light punishment.”

“Ooooh, goodie.”

My huff was ignored as Lucifer began to murmur the protection spell beneath his breath, an extra precaution despite my protection charm bracelet, before parting his lips once more. His tongue extended slightly over his bottom teeth as he started to lower me down past his fangs.

I instinctively tucked my legs beneath me a bit despite no longer feeling actual fear about being eaten, it was just an automatic reaction. I felt his breath against my legs and soon my shoes were on the surface of his tongue. Almost immediately, the tongue shifted minutely under my weight and I yelped as the fingers around me released. His tongue curled behind my back as I fell the couple inches into his jaws, pressing me to the roof of his mouth as his teeth clicked together behind me and left me engulfed in darkness.

Already, I could hear and feel Lucifer purr, a sound that only intensified as I went from being pinned to the roof of his mouth to the tongue moving beneath me as he tasted me for several seconds. Both to soak my clothes with saliva to make it easier for me to be swallowed, and just to savor me.

I wriggled a bit instinctively as I was tasted, pressing against the tongue with my hands as I tried to push it away a bit. It didn’t work, but thankfully Lucifer didn’t really feel like tormenting me like a hard candy tonight and I felt everything shift as he tilted his head back.

“Oof, here we go,” I mumbled to myself, bracing for the tight confines of the demons throat. Being swallowed probably felt like the worst thing about being eaten, finding it the most claustrophobic part of the entire experience. And, as I slipped to the back of his mouth and felt the tongue press against me in a rippling motion as he swallowed, I found it about as constricting as usual.

Wincing as the esophagus pressed against me on all sides, I heard Lucifer let out a pleased sigh over his purring, the demon teasing, “Nothing like tea and snacks at the end of a long day.”

“Oh, fuck off, you prick,” I exclaimed, elbowing the throat around me even as I slipped down past his heart and lungs. It wasn’t long before I found myself spilling into his stomach, which had a puddle at the bottom and the scent of… Earl Grey? I think. I wasn’t one for drinking anything other than peppermint or sweet iced tea, so my knowledge of leafy beverages was limited. Beyond that, it was too dark to see anything, but I knew if I summoned a light wisp that I’d be greeted with the sight of undulating crimson walls around me. A far more natural color compared to Mammons gold or Levi’s blue, but it was also a rather intimidating color given the instinctive connection to blood.

“Mmm, you know my brothers and I always love your spicy attitude, even if it contrasts your sweet flavor,” Lucifer hummed. There was a rhythmic thumping from the front of the stomach that I could only assume was him drumming his fingers against his chest in contentment.

“Yeah, yeah. Still don’t know how a person can be sweet, but whatever,” I leaned back against the stomach wall and crossed my arms, rolling my eyes at the weird compliment. Giving the wall in front of me a gentle kick, I asked, “Are you going to bed?”

“No. Unfortunately, despite Diavolo’s assurances that I need a break every now and then, paperwork needs to be filled. A night of signing reports may have led to a rather selfish bias in determining your punishment.”

“Got it.” So, he was using me to tide himself through the night without needing to get up and eat. Not the first time this has happened but it was usually a deal and not a punishment. Still, I relaxed further against the stomach wall, yawning for a moment and adding, “Well, I’m gonna try to catch some Z’s then. Can’t really do much and I guess my drawings will have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Yes, unfortunately they will. But, enjoy your sleep, Kat.”

I felt Lucifer straighten up in his seat and lean forward, hearing the faint shuffling of papers. Stretching a bit, the action elicited a few more purrs as I settled and began to doze.

#cinnanswers #cinnwrites #shall we vore #g/t vore #soft vore #safe vore

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arctic-shard · 1 year ago

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Outer Child, chapter 8

( You can't stop 049 from being 049, even at half-size. )

Outer Child, chapter 8

Warnings: Horror crafts :D

Words: 550~

-----

"If they were ordinary children, this would be messed up."

It had been a few days since an unknown anomalous object had transformed Amica and the Doctor into the physical and mental equivalent of three-year-olds. It had also affected the MTF soldiers and the Serpent's Hand agents who were fighting over it, but they weren't Victoria's problem.

In that time, Drs Combs and Usher had managed to scrounge up some toys for the affected entities, and Research Assistant Forrester had provided a selection of child-friendly musicals, since Amica and the Doctor had turned up their masked noses to more standard kiddie shows.

Amica and the Doctor were currently distracted from stacking blocks with a plate of apple slices - Combs had learned quickly that the two entities were like cats who had once been given a treat. If he didn't bring an offering, Amica would try to use mind-control on him to go get one. The Doctor was more polite, but had no interest in stopping Amica if it ended in snacks.

Combs sat at the small desk in Victoria's containment, flipping through a stack of pictures that the Doctor had drawn. There were a few of cottages and lavender, of Amica and Victoria and himself, but most were anatomical drawings. The Doctor also liked adding blood. The red marker had quickly run dry from the Doctor's art. The black one also needed to replaced with how much Amica used it, but Combs wasn't Amica's researcher.

Victoria nodded. "Their basic identities have remained intact. 049 is the Doctor. He's fascinated by biology and wants to heal people. He splinted my fingers very well for someone without proper supplies or an adult's manual dexterity. He still has his medical knowledge. I don't know if he can consciously access it, but it's there."

"Yes, and given his preferred procedures, the higher-ups aren't going to be happy about that," Combs agreed glumly.

Victoria's mouth drew into a thin line. The Doctor had never been able to explain the Pestilence, but now, with a toddler's thought processes, he was even harder to communicate with. He sensed something bad. People were sick. "There's more."

She retrieved a box from a low shelf that used to hold books but now held children's activities. She set it on the desk. "Oh," said Combs.

"Usher brought in a couple dolls," said Victoria. "She had intended them for 035, since it likes imaginative play. But it doesn't care for dolls - it wants to be the main character, not live vicariously through a toy. It lost interest, so the Doctor took them."

The two cloth dolls had been, to an untrained eye, mutilated. Victoria and Combs recognised surgery. They'd seen this sort of work on enough SCP-049-2 instances. It must have taken some very focused, painstaking effort to take apart the dolls with child-safe tools, but the Doctor had managed it, opening them up, removing limbs, then sticking them back together with more raven-printed band-aids. "His patients," said Victoria. "He takes them out to work on every so often. He added plasticine organs to them as well." Not very well-made, but enough that Victoria had understood what the Doctor was doing.

Combs inspected the dolls without touching them. "Worst-case scenario and they can't be restored to adults, 049 could be raised and trained on modern medical techniques."

"I don't think it would make any difference."

#scp-049 #scp oc #dr victoria west #scpfic: outer child

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theacedragon0w0 · 8 months ago

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Love poison Part 2

Sage x Velvette-ish fic

TW: Self drugging

Sage just clocked in for their late shift, as soon as they finished buttoning their shirt their coworker Hazel tapped their shoulder,

"The boss needs to chat with you"

Sage felt a bit of a grimace, Hazel is usually the one that gives Sage a heads up with whatever menial task Velvette would want Sage to do besides actually being a guard. What already got Sage on edge is that Hazel seemed to be just as clueless to what the boss wanted from Sage as they were.

"Is she waiting for me at her office?"

"Yes Bluebell, and it looks pretty important, haven't seen the boss with a more serious face than the time she was choosing the color of hearts for the dress she was stitching."

With a heavy sigh, Sage followed Hazel inside the large room. Velvette was sitting at her desk, eyeballing two fancy bottles, one a golden yellow while the other was a deep magenta.

"You needed to talk with me ma'am?"

Velvette, still staring at the swirling liquids, motioned her hand for Sage to step closer.

"You said you are able to taste if a drink or plate were to be spiked by my love potion,"

Sage, feeling like they were understanding what was going to be asked of them, replied, "I did say that, is that the reason why you needed to have a word with me?"

Velvette, for once looked hesitant on what she wanted to say, "I had a very important chat with my Hazel Wazel here, and she made a good point on how my potion makes things one-sided."

Sage couldn't hold the scoffed that they were burying in their throat, "So let me guess, you had the moral realization that mass producing a date drug was a bad thing, or that you are telling me that the potion should be both scentless AND tasteles?"

"No, you're right"

It took Sage a minute to process what her boss just said, "wait what?"

"I said you are right, ok I know it's messed up that it took me getting nearly drugged by my own shit to get the picture. And look business-wise I can make a pretty penny for giving those a chance to deal with the assholes with no game who try to take the easy way to someone's pants."

Sage wasn't happy with how Velvette put it, but they became adjusted to how she sees hell. "So what exactly are you asking me to do ma'am?"

It was then Hazel pulled out a glass and poured a small amount of whiskey, to which Velvette opened both of the colorful bottles and adding two drops from each into the whiskey.

"I wanna know if my antidote actually worked, and don't worry I had Hazel here help me when I was testing it on myself."

Sage was processing the fact that her boss was using the potions herself rather than force Hazel to be her guinea pig when Hazel place her paw on Sage's shoulder, "Bluebell you don't have to do it if you don't want to, we can do a different worker, Hell I can down the glass."

Sage thought about it; for one that Velvette was actually showing them that she was putting the stuff in the glass rather than sneaking it in Sage's water, and two that Hazel was willing to take the shot for Sage.

"No I think I want to test it out, besides if it doesn't work I wouldn't mind being in your hands," downing the concoction before they were able to think what they just told the other two, who both jaws dropped.

At first Sage was expecting to taste the lime salt of the love poison but was greeted to a melon sweet undertone, it would pair good with certain drinks Sage thought. Hazel had her arms out in case Sage were to topple over at any second, constantly asking Sage, "How are you feeling Bluebell?" With Velvette eyeing every movement that Sage made.

To everyone's shock, Sage was still coherent, as she kept reassuring Hazel, "I'm ok, it's not hitting yet."

Velvette wasn't convinced however, "the effects should come in a few more minutes doll,"

Sage couldn't help but sneer at their boss, "oh? Are you just waiting for me to be putty in your hands?"

After 5 minutes, 20 minutes, and even in an hour Sage was still responsive to Hazel's questions and was still able to move their body.

"So it's a success then," Velvette concluded, "We can start the production line for the antidote, and Sage you can clock off early tonight, Hazel can take care of me for the rest of the night."

Well yeah she's with you 24/7 Sage thought, as they were grabbing their stuff to leave, and when they approached the door a thought came to them.

Huh, why do I feel like I want to stay longer?

Hazel belongs to the fabulous pookie @puffymucher

#hazbin hotel oc #oc x canon #hazbin hotel velvette #oc x oc #oh boy sage lore will be upon us

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reigningqueenofwords · 4 months ago

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Alfred is a Gift

Pairing: Bruce x Reader, Martha x Thomas, reader’s parents Word count: 3,465

Read on AO3

Part 19 of Without Me

Bruce glared. “I’ll prove to you that I’m a great husband and father.”

Your father smiled. “There’s nothing I want more than for you to prove me wrong. And that hasn’t happened.” He turned and went back inside. He slammed the door behind him, making people look over.

Bruce looked down. He felt he was doing his best. But apparently not. Hearing the door, he glanced over to see you. "Babe?" You wrapped your arms around him.

“Hi.” He said softly, kissing your forehead. “Have I ruined your life?” He asked bluntly.

"What? No!" You told him. "I love my life."

He swallowed. “But your job…” He breathed.

"Is being a mom. I can go to work when they're older. They won't be little forever. Raising our kids is everything to me. Just because I'm scared doesn't mean I don't want her." You told him. “Beckett is the best little boy, and you were a huge part in that.” You kissed his chin. "He has the best daddy in the whole world!"

“I hope so. I hope you don’t wish you were with someone different.” He pouted. "Just...I'm sorry." He sighed, holding you close. "That I've apparently taken your dreams away.”

You hugged him tight. “No. At all. We’re still young! I have time to do desk jobs.” You promised him. "And dreams can change. Right now my dreams are our kids being happy and healthy!"

“But I forced that on to you.” He said sadly.

"I stopped taking my birth control for Beckett." You reminded him.

“Right, but would you have if I didn’t want kids so badly?” He asked.

You kissed him softly. "After seeing you with Noah, I did." You rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re the best.” You smiled. "So, please, ignore him. I'll send Noah out here to keep you company while I go tell my father to stop being a dick to my husband."

“You don’t have to.” He pouted more. “What if I deserve it?”

"You. Don't." You told him firmly. "Now stop beating yourself up because he has this image of me that I've broken. It's sad he'd rather have me be alone, behind a desk, then loved and happy with my family."

“And I do love you. So much. You’re the best mom and I love coming home to you and Beckett and now our princess.” Bruce said. "Can we talk names later? I have a couple I like."

“We can.” You nodded quickly. "I can't wait to hear them." You pecked his cheek before heading inside. "Noah, Bruce wants to know if you wanna play catch?"

“I do!” Noah smiled and ran outside quickly.

You chuckled, but then went to your father, clearly unhappy. "You have some nerve insulting my husband."

“I’m looking out for you.” He said easily.

"You're making an ass of yourself!" You countered. "He's an amazing husband and father. He has given you nothing to show that he’s not.” You glared at him. "Those family pictures you love? He surprised me with those. He surprises us with family days all the time. He gets up with Beckett so I can sleep in." You explained. “He loves his son so much and I know he’ll love our daughter with just as much of his heart. He buys me flowers, he writes me notes, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You didn't care that people were staring at you. "Why is it my life you try to mess with when Nicole sleeps with other people's boyfriends? Can't keep a job? Is living with you?!" You shouted.

Beckett waddled to you and hugged your leg, pouting. “Mama.” He sniffled.

You scooped him up. "I'm sorry, baby." You kissed his cheek. "Wanna go see Daddy?"

“Mhmm.” He nodded, eyes watery.

Shooting your father one last look, you brought Beckett out. "Someone wants his daddy." You told Bruce. "I think I upset him yelling at my dad.”

“That’s okay, buddy.” Bruce took him.

Beckett nuzzled him, adding to your point that Bruce was a wonderful father. “Why’d you yell at dad?” Noah asked.

You sighed. “He’s being a butt.” You shrugged. “Being mean to Bruce.”

Noah looked up at Bruce. “But you’re nice.” He looked confused. “Adults are weird.”

“Very weird. Don’t grow up.” Bruce ruffled his hair and Beckett reached down to copy him. He chuckled, looking at the small boy. “Wanna play with Uncle Noah?”

Beckett nodded and looked at Noah excitedly. As soon as his feet were on the ground, he was off to play with the dogs and Noah.

Bruce pulled you close. “As long as our little family is happy, we can get through anything.” He promised you. “And lots of dads hate their son in laws, right?”

“I guess but it shouldn’t be that way. I love you! That should be enough for him.” You sighed. “I asked why he’s messing with my life when Nicole is how she is.”

“It’s a good question.” Bruce nodded. “I honestly hadn’t even thought of that part.” He frowned. “He just has hated me from the start.” He sighed. “It’ll be twenty years down the line and it’ll be the same shit.” He shrugged. “So I might as well get over it now.”

You kissed his shoulder and rubbed over his back. “I’ll always defend you.” You promised.

Your parents left before dinner, your mother hugging you lovingly. She assured you she was thrilled to be getting another grand baby. And that she would speak to your father about how he behaved. Maryanne left, as well, wanting it to be more of a family dinner. Bruce was thankful she was supportive and would be sending her flowers that week. His parents stayed, and Thomas was currently watching a movie with Beckett on his lap.

You and Martha were designing Maryanne’s baby shower while Bruce made dinner. The house smelled amazing, and your stomach was all but growling when he said it was done.

Bruce served you first and everyone gathered around the table happily. He was glad his parents seemed to approve of your marriage. At least you had their support as well. Beckett munched on his food happily, making Bruce smile. “Like it, bud?”

Beckett giggled and nodded. "Yum!" He licked his hand.

You laughed and kissed his head. “Very yum.” You agreed. "Daddy's a good cook."

“Better than Thomas.” Martha giggled. "I think it skipped him."

"Alfred taught me." He said proudly.

“Alfred is a gift.” You giggled. “I should make him more cookies. He liked the last batch. Maybe I’ll have Beckett ‘help’.”

“Yay!” Beckett cheered. Everyone chuckled, thankful he was such a happy toddler. He made everything better. You knew he’d be an amazing big brother. Maybe you could do new maternity pictures.

His parents left right before you started getting Beckett ready for bed. You smiled as he let you put him in his pjs. “Did you have fun today?” You asked as he yawned.

He nodded and giggled tiredly. “Yeah!” He leaned against your chest once he was dressed.

“Want Daddy to read to you tonight?” You asked, leaving it up to the small boy who read to him at night.

“Mm.” He kicked while he thought. “Mama and Daddy?” He asked, wanting to cuddle you both. “Pease?”

You melted and kissed his head. “Sounds great to me.” You hugged him close and called for Bruce down the hall. He came to peek his head in Beckett’s room, smiling. “Someone wants us both to do bedtime.”

“Right on.” Bruce beamed and came to lay down so your son was cuddled between you both. Beckett helped and held the book open, eyes already droopy. “He’s not gonna last.” He chuckled.

You kissed his forehead before you began reading. It didn’t take him long before he was leaning against Bruce, sleeping. You smiled widely and looked at Bruce lovingly. “He looks so much more like you in his sleep.”

“Poor kid.” Bruce smiled back. “I hope she looks like you.” He nodded. “She’ll be beautiful.” He breathed. “I still can’t get over how lucky I am.” He reached over and squeezed your hand. “So, how about we go watch a show, and then get some sleep?”

“And maybe a foot rub?” You said hopeful.

He chuckled, nodding. “Deal.” He got up and went around to lift you bridal style. You wrapped your arms around his neck and giggled, kissing his cheek. “Love you.” He said happily.

“I love you.” You said contently, letting him set you on the couch. “And thank you for this dress. I don’t think I said that.”

“Anything for my wife.” He smiled. “And, not gonna lie, I knew your ass would look great. I was right.” He squeezed it before sitting next to you.

You blushed, shaking your head. “Enjoy it now. I think I’ll lose more with each kid.”

“Lose more?” He moved you onto his lap.

“More ass.” You chuckled. “I think they absorb it to make those cute cheeks.”

He kissed your shoulder. “I’ll love your ass no matter what.” He promised. “Even when we’re old and have grandkids, I’m gonna be loving it.” He smiled against you.

“How sweet.” You nuzzled him. “I look forward to growing old with you, honestly.”

“Me too, baby. Husband and wife for life.” He rubbed your bump. “Parents, eventually grandparents.”

You teared up happily. “You’re my best friend. I love you so much.” You ran your hand through his dark hair.

“I love you, too.” He kissed you lovingly.

“Oh, I hate you.” You groaned as another contraction hit.

“I know, baby.” Bruce let you squeeze his hand. “She’s taking a while.” He mumbled to the nurse. “Beckett was impatient to get here.”

“Every pregnancy is different.” The nurse assured. You groaned, shaking your head.

“I can’t anymore.” You told Bruce. “My back is breaking!” You cried. “Ow!”

Bruce felt for you and continued wiping your forehead and now your tears. “You’re almost there. You can do this.” He was trying to be your biggest cheerleader, but hated seeing you in pain. “Can we do anything more?” He asked the nurse.

“She’s almost able to get the epidural. Just another centimeter.” She rubbed your leg. “Almost, dear.” She said gently.

You whined and clutched to Bruce. “No more for a few years.” You told him, although this one hadn’t been even close to planned. “I’m getting the implant or the ring, or anything!” You screamed as another one hit.

Bruce teared, kissing your forehead. “I’m so sorry, babe.” He wished he could take the pain away. “Once we’re done wanting kids, I’ll get snipped. Okay?”

You nodded and wiped your eyes. “Okay.” That you could agree to. “Thank you.” You told him. “One more?”

He stroked your cheek and smiled. “Whatever you say.” He would have been happy with just the two you were about to have.

You kissed his hand and almost sobbed in relief when they finally came in for the epidural. You felt so much better after that. “I would say an hour more.” The doctor said after they checked. “You’ll have your daughter soon.”

“Thank you.” You sighed in relief. You missed your son, and you wanted this to be over with.

Bruce didn’t mind that his hand was nearly broken, his eyes focused on the baby girl on your chest. “You did it.” He said proudly. “You’re amazing.”

“I’m so sweaty.” You giggled, overjoyed she was in the world now. “Hey, our little Charlotte.” You kissed her head as she stretched slightly. “I can’t wait to introduce Beckett, and your parents.”

“Beckett’s going to be so excited.” Bruce nodded. “Plus Alfred. He’s excited to have a little girl around.” He chuckled. “Pretty sure he’s gonna start buying stuff for her 1st birthday soon.” He joked.

“If he hasn’t already.” You smiled. “Wanna hold her, daddy?” You looked over at him. “I’m sure she would love that.”

“I would love to.” He sat and carefully took her. “She’s so precious.” He was over the moon. “I’m home for three weeks, and I plan to suck that time up.” He reminded you. “Then dad said I can take a week off a month for a year.” He went on. “I didn’t want to tell you until she was here.”

You sighed in relief. “Oh, that’s going to be so nice.” You squeezed his leg. “Thank you.” You smiled. “I know our kids will love that, too.”

He smiled down at you. “I’ll call every chance I can.” He promised.

“I know you will.” You beamed at him. "And I'll send a lot of pictures."

“I can’t wait.” He smiled, kissing Charlotte’s nose. "I love you, and your mommy, and your brother so much!" He gushed.

You watched him lovingly, and didn’t even realize you were tired until you were out. It felt like moments passed before he was asking you up to nurse her. Her little cries were soft but squeaky, making you melt. “I’m here, baby.” You sat up. "Mommy's here." You got yourself set up. "Have your parents brought Beckett?"

“Yeah, and food. Want me to go bring them in?” He smiled. When you nodded, he all but jumped up to get them. Soon Thomas was helping Beckett onto the bed.

“Be careful with mommy.” He told the toddler. "She's feeding your baby sister."

“Sissy.” Beckett whispered and crawled over to you carefully.

Thomas and Martha came over, smiling. "So precious." She said gently. "How are you feeling?"

“Tired and sore, but so happy.” You beamed. "Both my babies are here."

She smiled. “Congratulations.” She kissed your head. "She's beautiful. Alfred is excited to meet her, too."

You grinned. “He’s so sweet.”

Beckett peered at his sister. “Small.” He stared in awe. He carefully touched her hand and pulled back instantly, afraid to hurt her. "Daddy?" He made grabby hands at Bruce.

Bruce scooped him up. “Hey, it’s okay.” He kissed his head. “You’ll get used to her, buddy.” He promised.

Beckett hid in his neck but watched Charlotte as you burped her. “After you wanna cuddle mommy, and Daddy can cuddle your sister?” He asked, and Beckett nodded.

“So, are you going to finally tell us her name?” Thomas teased.

Bruce beamed. “Oh, right.”

“This is Charlotte.” You told them. “Charlotte Marie Wayne.” You smiled.

“How cute! It’s beautiful.” Martha gushed. “Beckett and Charlotte. Such perfect names.”

Thomas nodded. “Wonderful!” He put his arm around Martha, watching the four of you.

Beckett cuddled to you once Bruce took Charlotte. You kissed the top of his head, closing your eyes to rest. Bruce rocked Charlotte, looking at her lovingly.

“Would you like us to watch Beckett for a couple days?" Martha asked.

You hummed and looked at Bruce who nodded. “That’d be nice. Thanks, mom.” He told her. "Just so we get her settled."

“Of course.” Martha beamed. “Beckett loves his room there anyway.” She had made sure he had everything he needed there.

“And he loves his grandparents.” You smiled. "So much."

Beckett giggled. “Gama!” " He pointed to her. "Gampa!" He pointed to Thomas.

They always melted when he did that. "Want us to get the boys, too?" He asked, referring to Happy and Lucky.

“If you’d like.” You smiled. "Happy sleeps with Beckett, so he would probably love that."

“And dad loves our dogs.” Bruce laughed. "Which is ironic when he wouldn't let me get one when I was a kid."

“You were enough for us.” Thomas chuckled. "Why do you think you're an only child?" He teased

Bruce gasped, then shook his head. “I get it actually. I’m a handful.” He grinned. "Which is why I'm surprised she isn't sending me off to get snipped at the moment."

“Very close.” You teased. "But, I think one more in a few years would be nice."

Martha and Thomas beamed, loving the expansion of your family. They honestly had stopped hoping Bruce would ever settle down, until you. Now they had beautiful grandchildren. "Are you hungry, dear?" She asked you.

You opened your mouth and your stomach grumbled, making Beckett burst into giggles. "Very." You said shyly

Thomas went to get your food, making you your plate. "Here you are."

“You’re the best.” You took it happily. "Her labor and delivery was longer and harder than Beckett's." You shook your head.

“Hopefully the recovery is quick, then.” Martha said softly. “You’re very strong.” She sat on the side of your bed.

“Thank you.” You smiled at her.

Beckett crawled over to hug her. “Gama.” He smiled.

“Hi, baby.” She lifted him onto her lap. “Are you happy your sister is here?” She brushed his dark hair back.

He nodded. “So small.” He breathed.

Bruce chuckled at that. “You were that small.” He told him, playing gently with her small foot. “We’ll show you pictures, okay?”

“Okay!” He said excitedly.

Sitting on your couch, you sighed contently. “Home.” You smiled.

Bruce kissed your cheek. “I’m so happy we made it here.” He sat with you, Charlotte in her seat in front of his feet.

“Ready for lots of naps?” You giggled. “Because we now have a toddler and a newborn.”

“As long as it’s with my family I’m happy.” He beamed. “I have three weeks home with the people I love most.”

“We’ll make it count.” You promised. “All the family time.” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

Bruce held your hand and took a deep breath, content. “How about when you’re up to it, we bring Beckett to the park?”

“Fresh air sounds nice.” You nodded. “And to watch you two play together.”

“He tires me out so much.” Bruce laughed. “He’s gonna make me invest in a home gym.” He cuddled with you. “I don’t have a dad bod right?” He joked.

You pretended to think. “Nah, but even if you did...you’re hot.” You kissed his cheek. “And all mine.” You said proudly. “Forever.”

“Poor you.” He teased and hugged you close. “I’m the lucky one.” He chuckled as you giggled as he kissed all over your face. When you squealed, he sucked a mark on your neck. “There. Mine.” He announced.

“You mean the ring wasn’t proof enough?” You teased.

“Men won’t look at the ring first.” He grinned.

You laughed. “What men am I ever around?” You looked at him. “Honestly?”

He tilted his head. “Never know. Some creepy mailman or something!” He said so sincerely it was cute.

You giggled. “Well, you’ve made your mark just in case, then.” You smirked. “Does that mean I can leave mine?" As if on cue, Charlotte started to fuss.

He pouted. “Eventually.” He stood up to get her into his arms and transfer her over to you. "I'll get us some water and snacks, okay?"

“Grapes, please.” You told him before getting ready to feed her. "You made mommy really love grapes." You chuckled. “And all things that helped with dehydration.” You grinned and kissed her forehead. She eagerly nursed as you hummed softly to her.

Bruce came back and watched you lovingly. “Best mom ever.” He beamed.

“I’ll remember this moment during our next argument.” You teased. "Put on a movie?"

“Cartoons?” He asked, used to Beckett.

You smiled. "How about something above rated G."

“Right.” He went through the list and picked an old favorite of yours. "There we go."

You smiled wide and watched excitedly. "Just need our boy, and this would be perfect." You mused.

“He would make us a bit more tired, though.” He smiled. "He'll be home tomorrow." He kissed your temple. "With our boys."

Beckett's tiny bottom lip was sticking out when he woke up to Bruce at work. It was his first day back, and you already missed him. You brought your toddler and newborn to your room, wanting cuddles constantly. “Daddy.” Beckett pouted.

“I know, baby. I miss him, too.” You told him. “How about we go visit Alfred?” You suggested. It would be the first time you brought the kids out solo, but you knew going there would be the best first bet.

“Okay.” Beckett nodded.

You got Charlotte and followed him to his room to help him get ready. "Want to wear that jacket Alfred got for you for your birthday?"

“Yeah.” You could tell he was a bit sad as he didn’t have as much enthusiasm as usual.

Once you were all ready, you grabbed the diaper bag and got Charlotte into her car seat. “Alright, lets go.” You smiled. "Maybe after we can visit Daddy?"

He gasped. “Pease!” He clapped, making you chuckle.

“We’ll try.” You promised and put the eager boy in the car. “I know how much you love your daddy.” You kissed his forehead.

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capn-lyssa · 2 years ago

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Well, I had to feed my Gundam addiction again this week. Went to my local Gunpla shop, and picked up two rival suits that I'm sure find their way into every collection eventually. The ones that started it all. The RX-78-2 Gundam, and Char's Zaku II.

I got both of them as High Grade 1/144 kits, as well as a gray Gundam marker for panel lining.

The first one I built is known by many names. The Grandpa, RX-78-2, or simply Gundam. Being my first kit working with panel lining, it was a lot of trial and error figuring out techniques, but I like the added detail it gives, and how most of it turned out. I was a little disappointed about the range of motion with the shield, but it is just a high grade, so I can't expect perfection. I got a couple of cool poses with it, including an iconic one from the original series.

Next up was the legendary Red Comet. This was a build I was looking forward to for a while, but had been holding off until Gundam markers came back in stock, as I knew how much of a difference it can make on Zeon designs.

I only took a single photo during the build process. I usually am too absorbed in the process to think about pictures, but the boi looked like he was playing a sick air guitar solo and I had to share.

After finishing both builds. I knew I wasn't done until I had staged the two of them in battle. I decided to have a little fun with these pics too. I usually don't mess with my zoom levels too much when photographing models, but I think it really makes a big difference in the amount of depth you can get out of a phone camera. I also tried to get away with as low of an ISO setting as I could, to reduce the film grain. I even took the time to adjust highlights and shadows for a more dynamic look.

Lighting these scenes was also an experience. In some of these pictures, I'm literally holding up a desk lamp to get the light at just the right angle, as well as to not have to deal with any lens flare.

#Gundam #universal century #gunpla #photography #Char kinda cute tho... 🥺👉👈

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regenderate-fic · 2 years ago

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Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler Rating: General Series: Stay With Me. Hold My Hand. Word Count: 1,994 Other Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Cuddling, Developing Relationship, Canon Divergence, Rose Stays, Nightmares, Angst, Literal Sleeping Together

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Summary: After their separation (and subsequent very bad days), the Doctor and Rose spend the night together.

NOTES: uhhh this is part of a series and probably best read with the first fic to be honest but if you just want context-free angsty cuddling this is also a great fic for you. i didn't want to fall asleep at a reasonable time before my gre tomorrow so i wrote this instead. everyone wish me a very get into grad school (note from future felix. the gre sucked they didn't let me have my water :( )

Rose stumbled into the console room, the Doctor leaning heavily on her.

“C’mon,” she muttered. She ushered him through the console room, stepping around the total mess of papers still scattered across the floor. He came with her easily— a little too easily, as far as Rose was concerned, considering how obstinate he could be when he was at full force. He should’ve been putting up a fight, insisting that he was fine, he didn’t need Rose’s help. The fact that he wasn’t doing any of that betrayed how much he did need her right now.

They stepped into the corridors. The TARDIS was still in the back of Rose’s mind, guiding her— it had moved things around, put the door to Rose’s room closer to the console room, so she and the Doctor only had to stumble around a couple corners before Rose kicked open the door.

Her room was a mess. It was always a bit messy, but she’d turned it inside out looking for everything she’d wanted to take to her mum’s: laundry, bazoolium, pictures from some of the places she and the Doctor had been. Now, the floor was covered with clothes, Rose’s chair on its side halfway across the room from her desk, her dresser drawers hanging half-open.

Under normal circumstances, she would’ve been embarrassed to have the Doctor in here, especially when she noticed one of her plainest bras hanging off one of the bedposts— but right now, she was too tired to care, and she was fairly certain the Doctor would be too. She pushed magazines and knicknacks off the side of her bed, sending them crashing to the floor, and then she moved back to the Doctor and led him by the hand, guiding him to a sitting position. She sat down next to him, the full weight of the last couple days hitting her full force.

“Right,” she said vaguely. “What all do you remember?” After Rose had pulled him out of the void, he had asked, repeatedly, what had happened, so she was figuring at least some memory loss had occurred.

“I—” The Doctor stared at her. “We were trying to get rid of the Cybermen. And the Daleks.”

Rose nodded. She met his eyes, doing her best to look encouraging.

“And— I was holding the Magnaclamp,” he added. “Did— did the lever break?”

Rose nodded again.

“And I—” He cut off. Rose could see the scared confusion in his eyes, the same scared confusion he’d had ever since he tumbled with her out of the void and onto the concrete basement floor.

“You were in the void,” Rose said. “I—” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t think I’d ever get you back.”

“It was—” The Doctor shook his head. “How long was I gone?”

“Just a day, for me,” Rose said. “But—” She swallowed. “I was trying to figure out how to pilot the TARDIS. Was trying to jump forward, just by a day. But I would up jumping six months. All the way to Christmas.”

“TARDIS doesn’t do well with short trips,” the Doctor said.

Rose snorted. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I don’t think there was time, in the void,” he added. “Not— not the way you or I would think of it. It felt—” He shook his head. “I can’t explain it.”

“It’s all right.” Rose took his hand in hers again, threading their fingers together. “I was in there, remember? I went in to get you back.”

The Doctor nodded. “How did you—”

“I’m not sure,” Rose admitted. “That spider thing—”

“The Racnoss,” the Doctor supplied.

“The Racnoss,” Rose amended. “She said she was trying to bring her people back from the void. She wanted me to go in and get them. She said I was the key— honestly, I didn’t understand most of it. But—” She swallowed. “Something happened, before that. After I tried to move the TARDIS. I came out at my mum’s place, and when I was on the stairs this woman just… appeared. Like, teleported.” She glanced down. “I mean, you met Donna. But it was like— when I went back into the TARDIS, it was like I could feel it. Like I could feel time.” She looked back up. “Gave me an awful headache.”

The Doctor almost smiled.

“And then when I saw the void open like that—” Rose closed her eyes. “It was like— there was all this gold light.” She blew out a long breath. “Anyway. The— Racnoss— you saw the rope she gave me. I used it to go into the void, and then once I was there it was like I was running on instinct to pull you out.”

He nodded. “So—”

Rose sighed. “So I think I’d rather not think about whatever happened to me until I’ve had a chance to get some sleep. I’ve been doing a lot of running with a lot of headache.”

The Doctor nodded again. “D’you want me to—”

“No,” Rose said, shutting him down. “I brought you here for a reason. You clearly need rest.”

“I can rest anywhere,” the Doctor protested, but still without his usual bite.

Rose shook her head. “You’re going to rest here, where I can keep an eye on you.” She raised her eyebrows. “Thought I might’ve lost you forever, you know.” She tried to say it casually, like it was nothing, but of course a wobble snuck into her voice. “I was worried—” She couldn’t help herself. She dissolved into tears. For a moment, the Doctor froze, hovering in the space next to her— but then his arms were around her, and she was sobbing into his tattered suit jacket, and he was running his hand along her back, her side, her arm.

“Rose,” he whispered. “I was so lonely, in the void. There was no one—”

“I’m here now,” Rose replied, her tears slowing. She sat up, wiping at her eyes. “Sorry. Long day.” She met the Doctor’s eyes with her best attempt at a smile, letting one hand run through his hair and down to his neck. “C’mon.” She kicked off her shoes and unzipped her jacket, shrugging it off so she was down to the black top she had on underneath, and she moved to the head of the bed, not bothering to change out of her jeans before tucking her legs under the covers.

The Doctor did the same, shrugging off his suit jacket and stretching out on top of the blankets in his rumpled shirtsleeves. Rose knocked the back of her hand against his arm.

“C’mon, Doctor, at least get under the covers.”

He gave her a halfhearted eye roll, but he obliged, lifting the covers and slipping underneath.

“There you go.” Rose adjusted until she was lying on her side, facing him. Once again, she couldn’t stop herself from running her hand through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Right,” she murmured, her eyes scanning his expression. “How are you?”

“Confused, mostly,” the Doctor replied. “What are we doing here again?”

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Are you telling me you don’t need the longest nap of your life right now?”

He frowned. “Well—”

“And I told you.” She knocked her foot against his calf. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.” She hesitated. “Metaphorically speaking, anyway. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out at the first sign of quiet.”

“Right.” The Doctor shifted: Rose could feel the tension in his body.

“It’s all right, Doctor,” she said, keeping her voice soothing and soft. “You’re all right. Back in the TARDIS, remember?”

The Doctor nodded. “And you’re— you’re here.”

“I’m here,” Rose repeated. “And not going anywhere, if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

The Doctor nodded again. He held still for another moment, and then he reached out, slowly, to wipe the lingering tear tracks from Rose’s face. His touch was gentle, soft, and Rose closed her eyes against it. She opened them when she felt him pull away: he’d fallen to land on his back, holding up his far arm; with the near arm, he grabbed at the fabric of Rose’s shirt, tugging her closer, and she rolled into him, curling against his chest as his hand landed in her hair. She felt a smile forming on her face. She moved her fingertips across his chest, feeling first one heartbeat, then the other.

“Still kicking,” she murmured.

The Doctor grunted.

“Maybe we ought to take it easy for a few days,” Rose added.

“Yeah,” the Doctor said. “Easy.”

For a long moment, they were both silent. Rose shifted a little closer to the Doctor, adjusting to make herself comfortable, and the Doctor tightened his hold on her. She felt so secure, lying here with him: she’d been hanging on by a wisp of a thread for the last couple days, and now, knowing that he was here, with her, that she was in the TARDIS, floating in the vortex, she felt like she’d managed to pull herself up onto firm ground, her feet planted.

Rose kept tracing her fingers along the Doctor’s chest. She could feel his sternum, his ribs, just as solid as always. Slowly, his breaths evened out in sleep, and Rose let her own eyes drift shut.

She could get used to this, maybe. Having the Doctor in her room. Hopefully under nicer circumstances, but— it was nice.

She woke up to a jerking movement underneath her. The lights were dim: the TARDIS adjusted them automatically, most of the time. Dim meant they hadn’t been asleep a full night. She lifted her head.

“Doctor?” she whispered.

He stilled. “Rose?”

“You all right?” She could barely see him in the darkness, his face a vague outline.

He didn’t answer. He just pulled her closer with an urgency bordering on violence, his hand tangling in her hair, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. His other hand was on her back, clutching at her shirt. For a moment, Rose froze, startled— and then some instinct kicked in, and she returned the hug just as fiercely, wrapping a leg around him, hooking her arm around his shoulder. He shook beneath her, and she realized a moment later that he was crying. His sobs shook her too, and she propped herself up on an elbow, brushing her hand through his hair in soothing strokes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I—” He choked on the words. Rose kept brushing through his hair.

“It’s all right,” she said softly.

“Might take longer than a few days,” he finally managed.

Rose stilled. “What?”

“Of taking it easy,” he clarified, and Rose moved her hand again, her fingers grazing his scalp.

“That’s all right,” she murmured. She hesitated. “D’you want to talk about what happened?”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Not tonight.”

“Okay.” Rose lowered her head to his shoulder again. His hold on her had slackened to allow her to move, but now that she was once again at rest, his hold tightened. “You know you can always talk to me,” she said into his shirt. Her words were blurring together a bit: she’d been woken from a deep sleep, and she seemed to be returning to it. But it was important that he knew. “If you want to, I mean.”

“Of course.” His hand drifted through her hair, and she fell asleep once more.

She woke up a second time to brighter lights. For half a second, the fear and exhaustion of the preceding days spiked through her— but it softened almost immediately in the warm glow of the Doctor’s arms, still around her, and her head, still resting against his chest as it rose and fell.

She smiled. She definitely wouldn’t mind more than a few days of taking it easy. Not if the Doctor was there, and especially not if he was this close to her.

Her eyes slipped shut once more.

#fanfiction #my fic #doctor who #tenrose #ten x rose #doctorrose #doctor x rose #stay with me. hold my hand.#short #hurt/comfort #fluff #developing relationship #canon divergence #angst #literal sleeping together

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