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verynormalazulashengrottoenjoyer · 3 months ago

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Pining Thoughts

Oh that poor, unfortunate soul. Azul just can't seem to get you out of his head, now can he? And trust, it's driving him absolutely insane.

Fluff! Gender neutral y/n. About 8kish words?

Canon story event context!!: this story builds off of and directly branches off from the visit to the Atlantica Memorial Museum at the end of Book 3, and the conversation the prefect and Azul have when Azul goes to return the photo. The lines that I use at the beginning are pulled directly from the entwst translated dialogue! Basically, he takes what you said to heart, a lil too much

~~~

“You’re amazing as it is, even without stealing anyone else’s powers.”

“What…?”

“Your incredible diligence is so rare, it left the headmage at a loss.”

“You…you think?”

“Heh…you needn’t try so hard to butter me up.”

~~~

It had been about a month since that trip down to the Atlantica Memorial Museum to return Azul’s childhood photo. About a month since that conversation had taken place between you and Azul, away from the rest of the group. You two had walked side by side, as Azul had poured his heart out to you.

“The Sea Witch never hid her past misdeeds. She worked hard to restore her reputation, and earned the people's respect that way. I kept saying I wanted to be like her… but in the end, I couldn’t accept my own past. I kept rejecting it.”

Azul hunches over his unfinished paperwork, remembering those vulnerable words that spilled from his mouth. He runs his hand through his already messy, light gray, wavy hair, letting out a deep, heavy sigh.

“…How stupid.” he mutters.

How could he have said all that to you? Seriously, what in his right mind compelled him to say something so…so…weak. To you.

But, in actuality, that part of the whole interaction consumed the least of his mind, what really had Azul in turmoil was your response.

Amazing..? Incredible…? My diligence…?

Those sweet compliments rang in his mind, day and night those two sentences replayed over and over in his mind, the way you looked at him with full sincerity in your eyes as you said it. Your voice contained no malice, no ulterior motives…only compassion.

That��s something he wasn’t used to.

And it was driving him insane.

You’d been so kind to him through it all. The overblot. God, he could’ve killed you. And yet here you were, still smiling at him, complimenting him, treating him like he was…normal. Like a friend.

Azul’s purple bow tie of his dorm uniform was undone, hanging over his neck loosely. The top button of his white dress shirt was unbuttoned. His black vest and coat were thrown messily over the back of his chair as he sits at his desk in the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge, and his black fedora was thrown on the floor next to him. Azul closes his eyes as he leans back in his chair, tilting his head back and stretching his legs out under his desk.

So what if you had given him a few compliments? It was just some words. People get compliments all the time. It didn’t mean anything.

And still, he could not get them out of his head. He could not get you out of his head.

Why??? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?? Azul let’s out another deep sigh as he opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, trying to push the thoughts away. But one thought manages to slip through:

… are they thinking about me too?

“Hah…” Azul let’s out a breathy laugh and softly shakes his head, “What a stupid thought. Of course they're not. This is me overthinking… that’s all.”

And with that final push away from his thoughts, Azul straightens up and looks back down at his work, picking up his pen as he continues his tasks. But as he writes, his hand gliding across the paper, he just can’t shake that underlying feeling…a tingling sensation in his chest…that always seems to linger when he thinks of you.

…

“AWWWWW YEAH. I AM STARVING!!!!”

Azul jumps upright in his seat, pulled from his thoughts. He knew that voice, it was the voice of Grim, that cat-like monster, or whatever the hell he is. He seemed to have just entered the Mostro Lounge.

That damn cat’s always so obnoxiously loud, Azul thought.

Suddenly, Azul’s heart drops, his face turning ghastly pale.

Wait… Grim. That must mean… the prefect is here as well.

Azul drops his pen to the floor, rushing over to the little window of the VIP lounge, moving the curtain just enough to see a sliver of the general dining area of the Mostro Lounge. Sure enough, there you were with Grim, along with the other first-years you were usually around, Ace and Deuce.

Azul pulls back from the curtain quickly, looking around for his vest and jacket. In a frenzy, he throws them on, as well as ties and straightens out his bow tie. He slips on his gloves. His heart pounds.

After somewhat composing himself, he opens the door of the VIP Lounge, making his way over to you and your group. On his way, he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the large fish tank wall of the lounge, noticing a small piece of hair sticking up. He quickly goes to brush it down with his hand. In the reflection, he can see his hand shaking. He sharply turns his head away from the reflection. Come on Azul. Pull yourself together.

Azul finally reaches the group of first-years, clearing his throat.

“Why, if it isn’t the most famous first-years of Night Raven College! Gracing us with your presence here at my humble Mostro Lounge today, are we?”

“Hi!” You say cheerfully to Azul, smiling and waving at him, stepping a foot closer.

Azul stops in his tracks, freezing as though someone held a remote to him and pressed the pause button.

“H-hello!” Azul’s voice cracks as he pushes out a greeting. “Y/N, I’m glad to see you’re- um- doing well!”

You nod slightly, “Mhm, yes. You too.”

Azul smiles, letting out an awkward, nervous chuckle, looking at you for a…slightly uncomfortable amount of time?

“...Um…think we could get seated? Please?”

“OH! Oh!! Yes!! Of course! Right this way, right this way” Azul jumps a bit, your request snapping him out of his trance. Finally, he moves from his place, waving frantically for you and your group to sit at a booth. “Ahem, might I get you some menus?”

“Please, thank you.” You respond politely. Azul quickly grabs four menus, placing them on the table. “I’ll have one of my employees come over to act as your waiter immediately” Azul says, still only looking at you. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t even glanced at the others. “E-enjoy!” He exclaims.

Oh, but he’s not done making a fool of himself yet.

Awkwardly, he continues to linger at the edge of your table. After a couple seconds, he tentatively asks “Um…I trust I’ll be seeing you in club this week, Y/N?”

“Uhh…yeah. Probably.” You nod.

Azul smiles and bows his head quickly, backing up a bit “E-excellent, see you then”. Suddenly, he stumbles as he walks back, nearly tripping over the ornamental rug on the floor. The stumble causes his already slipping glasses to fall to the floor.

I have GOT to move that rug.

“O-oh! Are you okay?” You lift up a hand as his glasses clatter on the ground.

“I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine! Worry not of me! Enjoy your meal!” Azul spits out, letting out a small, constrained laugh, reaching his hand down to pick up the glasses. He hastily places them on his nose, resulting in them resting in a crooked position on his face. Smiling awkwardly and taking one final, small bow to you, he scurries away back into the VIP Lounge.

…

Silence suffocates the table.

“…What the fuck was that?” Ace says, breaking the silence.

“He was…really nice?” Deuce, looking utterly confused.

“More like…really weird. Why was he being so awkward?? Isn’t his whole gimmick… like… being smooth?”

You look at Ace and Deuce, nodding in agreement, “Yeah…that was kinda odd I’m not gonna lie…” you shrug “I dunno”. It was kinda cute though, you think to yourself. Of course, you’d never say that out loud. Especially not to these three.

You definitely liked Azul. But he definitely does not like you back. All that man has feelings for are the scrolls in his desk. That’s the conclusion you had come to, anyways.

“I DON’T care. I just want food. Come on, come on! Figure out what you want so we can order already!!!” Grim says, pushing the menu into your face.

“OKAY, okay. Damn.” You snatch the menu from Grim.

~~~

Meanwhile, Azul’s sweating bullets in the VIP Lounge.

What the HELL was I doing out there???!!??!

Azul sits in the corner of the room, his head in his hands.

I was so…weird!! What if they dislike me now?? Oh god… how humiliating… they'll avoid me now! They're going to avoid me! No no no… maybe I could trick them into signing a contract that’ll make them not avoid me? Reverse restraining order? NO. Azul! What are you THINKING?

Azul buries his face in his clammy hands, which are now ungloved. His glasses are strewn on the floor next to him as he sits in a tight ball. If only he hadn’t left his octopot in his dorm room. He’d be curled up in there right now.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Azul’s head shoots up to see none other than Jade Leech standing at the doorway.

“How many times have I told you to KNOCK, Jade.” Azul says angrily. “Didn’t I take away your key???”

“Haha…of course…my apologies. And the key is irrelevant”. Jade puts on his sharp-toothed grin, indiciating he’s really anything but sorry. “I just couldn’t help but address that spectacle you put on out there. Quite the show, really.”

“QUIET! I-I..!” Azul tries to push out an explanation, but comes up empty handed, throwing his head back into the palms of his hands. He entangles his hands in his hair, staring down into his lap.

“Mmm…who would've thought. What used to be that chubby little octopus has a crush now! Why, they grow up too fast.”

Now this catches Azul’s attention. Not only does his head shoot up, his whole body lifts as he pulls himself to a standing pushing. “CRUSH? Nonsense! I don’t have a crush! What a…a…a childish idea Jade!”

“Well, it appeared that way to me.” Jade says, voice unwavering. Jade was so calm…almost condescending (average Jade demeanor).

Azul waves his hands frantically, damn near throwing a tantrum, “And WHAT in your right mind would make you think that? Huh? Because I was a bit clumsy?” Azul’s eyes are wide as his pale face turns red. From anger? Or embarrassment? Maybe both?

“Okay! I’ll admit it! I wasn’t as put together as I usually am out there. I just…was taken by surprise! But it has nothing to do with…any…romantic feelings…” Azul’s voice fades away as he turns his head away from Jade, his hands falling down to his sides. His face bright red, he looks incredibly conflicted, almost ashamed.

“Azul. I’ve known you for quite a long time. It truly is useless attempting to hide how you feel from me. You do understand this, yes?”

Azul maintains his gaze away from Jade for a few seconds. Then, he lets out a sigh, as he tentatively turns his head back to Jade.

And oh, and does that boy look defeated.

The best way to describe the look in Azul’s eyes is…longing. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly. The bags under his eyes are enough to tell Jade the toll this whole ordeal has taken on him.

Azul walks over to his desk, falling into the chair behind it. He puts his elbows on the table, once more placing his face in the palm of his hands as he leans forward.

“Ok. Alright. You’re right Jade. Yes? Does that satisfy you and your nosiness? I like them, Jade. You win.” Azul winces slightly at those last couple words. Hearing them come from his own mouth was painful.

Jade finally steps away from the doorway and takes a seat in front of Azul’s desk, opposite him.

“Huh. I’m surprised. I thought it would’ve taken more than that to get you to confess” Jade smirks as he sits upright in the chair. Looking smug, even.

With no energy left to combat Jade’s remarks, Azul waves his hand in defeat, the other hand remaining on his face to prop his head up as he looks down at the desk.

“And why? Why go so out of your way to put me through this…” Azul’s eyebrows furrow once more “this”. Azul’s chest feels heavy, and it’s difficult to breathe. Not giving Jade a chance to respond, Azul lifts his head, and in a frustrated tone, he begins a tangent.

“Huh? Well? Now what Jade? What do you propose I do with these… feelings?” That last word has a sharpness to it, a fond disliking. “This confession serves no purpose! They obviously doesn’t like me back, Jade. You understand what that would do to my reputation? To be rejected? By the prefect of all people? Shit, they've got more influence than me at this school. They could destroy me” Though I’d never admit that to their face “I… I can’t lose her.”

I know enough about risk. I’ve made my fair share of deals, I’ve signed my fair share of contracts. To put something so…precious…on the line for these stupid emotions. It’s simply not an option.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What do you mean, Jade?” Azul breaks away from his thoughts, looking up to meet Jade’s eyes, voice dripping in frustration. .

“I wouldn’t be so sure about they're feelings, Azul. Have you asked?”

“N-no! No! I couldn’t! …Jade, are you suggesting that they may…” Azul’s eyes are wide, waiting expectantly for an answer to leave Jade’s mouth.

“A moment, Azul” Jade lifts his hands, indicating the need to slow down, “All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t be so sure. I never said that they do. That’s something you’d need to figure out.”

At this, Azul drops his head once more, shaking his head, “Jade. I can’t.”

“...Fine, just let them get snatched up by some other man then” Jade states dismissively.

“…What?”

“What? You think they'll wait around forever for you?”

….

“It’s merely a suggestion Azul. Furthermore, I recommend you take action fast. They've got quite a few friends you know. On the good side of many. They're quite… compassionate” Azul flinches at this remark. Jade notices, and lets out a small chuckle “Though, I’m sure you know that quite well already. So, I do hope you are not taken by surprise when someone…how do they say… ‘beats you to the punch’.”

Azul’s face turns ghastly white.

“Anyways Azul” Jade lifts himself from the chair, straightening out his coat, “I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of…work… to do. I’d hate to get in the way. Good day”. He shows that sharp-toothed grin once more, looking quite pleased with himself as he turns to walk out the door.

Azul sits in silence, those previous words still ringing in his mind.

Beats me…to the punch? Another man?

Jade’s shoes click on the floor as he approaches the door. He opens it, but stops to leave Azul with some final words of suggestion…

“Might I suggest, a gift?”

“…a gift?” Azul squeaks out. He lifts his eyes, if only slightly, to look at Jade. His entire body feels heavy, as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. Because he really hadn’t.

Jade nods, “Precisely. A gift. A physical manifestation of your…’appreciation’”.

Azul blankly stares at Jade.

“Again, it’s merely a suggestion. Do what you will with it.”

With that, Jade closes the door, and with a click, it shuts.

And so, Azul is alone once more, left with his thoughts.

A gift huh… Azul pulls out his phone to glance at the time. A gift… I might just have enough time…yes…perhaps this…this could work…?

~~~

The setting sun shines through the windows onto the deck of cards in front of you. You and Idia, the fiery-haired third year, sit across from each other as you idly chat after school in the typical classroom of the weekly Board Game Club meeting. The room buzzes with chatter as other students converse among themselves in their respective groups. You always feel at ease in the comfortable and laid back environment of the club. But… it’s missing something today.

“Honestly dude…One Piece is just too long. I do NOT have time to watch all that.”

“It’s not even that long, what do you mean??”

“Girl isn’t it like over a thousand episodes??”

“Woah” Idia puts up his hand “First of all, I am NOT a girl. I’d consider myself more of a, heh, sigma male.”

“...No fucking way you just said that shit seriously bro”.

“You’re just mad you’re not a sigma male”.

“I don't want to be though???”

“Dude, just shut up and listen, One Piece is freakin’ awesome. Literally, it’s gotta be in my Top 3! I guess the pacing could use some work, but when you look at it from an overall picture…”

Idia’s voice seems to fade away as you glance at your phone. It’s ten minutes past the start of today’s club meeting.

I wonder where Azul is…he’s usually here by now. You shake your head slightly, brushing the fleeting thought from your mind. It shouldn’t matter to me anyways. He probably wouldn’t even notice if I wasn’t here. You remember the short interaction you had earlier that day at the Mostro Lounge. It almost seemed like…he wanted to get away from us…from me?

And still, you can’t shake that heavy feeling in your heart knowing you’d have to wait another week. What a childish feeling, to be upset over not not getting to spend a couple hours at your college club with a boy. But you couldn’t help it. You’d have to wait another week to sit and converse with the gray-haired housewarden. The way his blue eyes lock with your own as he rests his chin on the palm of his hand, studying your face as his pink lips curl into a subtle smile as you tell him about your day. The way his glasses slowly slip down the bridge of his nose as he lets out a small, soft laugh, and nods, acknowledging the words and emotions that spill from your mouth, the way-

“Dude, are you good?”

“...Huh?”

Idia still sits across from the table, staring at you, genuinely confused “Why’re you shaking your head? Are you really that against watching One Piece?

You stare at Idia for a moment, before you let out a chuckle and shake your head once more, looking down at the stack of cards, “No, no. Sorry Idia. Um, I just got distracted for a sec, I was thinking about something off topic”. Clearing your throat, you straighten your back as you reach for the cards.

“I’ll probably watch it one day man. Just not anytime soon”.

Just before your hands hit the cards, the door to the classroom swings open. At the door is none other than the boy that you had just managed to push out of your mind, Azul Ashengrotto.

Damn. Were his ears ringing or something?

Azul is clearly disheveled. The usually put together man has hair sticking up in some places, and hair sticking to his forehead due to sweat in other places. The coat to his school uniform is nowhere to be seen, only wearing the signature white shirt, black pants, and black and white striped tie of the Night Raven College Uniform. He holds his light purple vest in his hands, indicating his status as an Octavinelle dorm member. His glasses are crooked on his nose.

As soon as he bursts through the door, his eyes land on you. The eye contact you share is brief, as he immediately pulls his gaze away, attempting to brush his hair down and straighten out his clothes.

“Hey man. Took ya long enough” Idia remarks.

You clear your throat as you shoot Azul a smile. “Mhm. We saved you a seat”. You pat the seat next to you.

“O-oh!” Azul looks at your hand as it pats the area next to you. “That’s…quite considerate. Thank you prefect”. Azul places his vest behind the chair as he takes his seat next to you, continuing to avoid eye contact.

How the HELL am I going to do this…? God, I can’t even look at them.

You look at Azul one final time before you turn your attention back to Idia. “Alright, I’ll deal”.

After about half an hour of playing a variety of card games, you turn to Azul once more. He has yet to speak a word. “Azul? You wanna play?”

“No!” he exclaims immediately, “Ahem…” he clears his throat, regaining his composure, “N-no thank you. I’ve chosen to observe today. Yes. To observe. I’d like to study your techniques in order to improve mine. Success doesn’t happen on its own, you know.”

Nice save Azul, he thinks to himself. Truth is, he’s too scared to play in fear of you seeing how much his hands are shaking due to his nerves.

I don’t think I’d even be able to hold a card right now.

“...Chat is this real?” Idia asks.

“Yo chat is this real?” You add in.

“...what?” Azul asks blankly.

What the FUCK does “chat is this real?” mean?

“He fr doesn’t wanna play? Azul? The most competitive person in the club? The most competitive person in ALL OF NRC, basically?” Idia questions, sounding genuinely surprised.

Azul stutters in his response, “I’m-I’m studying your techniques. So that I may assure victory the next time we play! Do not judge my methods of success Shroud!”

“...Whatever floats your boat dude” Idia responds in a bored tone, letting the topic go.

You take this chance to jump into the conversation, as you turn your body to face Azul, “It’s okay, you and I can play next time. You could put your studied techniques to use then” you smile sweetly at him as you add in that last bit.

Azul nods, his face going red as he feels it burning up, “Yes…I’d very much like that”.

You and Azul look at each other, if not only for 1 or 2 seconds, but somehow, it feels as though you two are the only ones in the room. Saying nothing, your smiles remain on your faces, as you look into each other’s eyes.

Huh, his eyes really are pretty. They kinda look like…the ocean? Hah…quite fitting, I guess.

…

“Normie shit”

“Huh?” You break eye contact as you turn to look at Idia, pulled from your trance.

Idia rolls his eyes, and in an annoyed tone, states, “Ugh. Nothing. Can you just deal the cards already? You’ve been holdin’ em’, like, basically forever now”.

“Oh… yeah. Sure. Sorry.”

And with that, you set up another game. You two continue on with your card games, while you talk about fnaf or some shit idk this part isn’t really important to the story so just imagine you’re like arguing about fnaf lore, that’s something ya'll would prob do. Anyways, while you’re talking about nonsensical stuff…

Azul’s heart pounds through it all, his throat feeling dry. He watches the minutes go by on the clock, each click of the minute hand making his heart lurch. Just gotta ask them… You’ve got this.

I’ve got this?

~~~

The clock hits 8:00pm, and people begin to shuffle out of the classroom, heading back to their dorms for the night.

You say your goodbyes to Idia. He says he’s gotta make it in time for the Final Fantasy dungeon before it closes or something, to be honest, you don’t know half of the stuff he talks to you about (smile and nod smile and nod), so Idia grabs his stuff and quickly heads back to his dorm.

Azul lingers as the rest of the students filter out, leaving just you and him alone in the room. Yeah, you two are alone. Perfect…right?

“You heading back to your dorm, Azul?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He nods. “…yes.”

You nod, grabbing your bag and your phone, “Well then…I’ll see you soon? Next week probably, right? For club?

“Um..yes. Of course” Azul shuffles in place. His responses make it sound as though he is also prepared to leave, but his actions seem to say otherwise.

Okayyyy…?

“Um. Well then…!” You leave him with one final smile before you head towards the door, your light footsteps echoing throughout the silent room.

Azul watches your back as you move towards the door. No. You were about to leave. He can’t waste this chance. It’s now or never. He can’t let you slip through his grasp. With conviction, Azul quickly takes a few steps forward, reaching out his hand.

“W-wait!” His fingers wrap around your upper arm. His hands are so…cold. Are they always like this?

You jump a bit at the feeling, immediately stopping in your tracks as you turn slightly to look at him, a look of surprise on your face.

“Why’d you…?” Your heart stops not only at his freezing touch, but at the look in his eyes. His eyes are wide and expectant, as though he’s pleading with you not to go.

“Y/N…could you…meet me at the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge? Around…10? I… I um…I have something to give you….if that's alright…”

“Something to give me?” You now turn to face him completely, your heart pounding. You can practically hear the beat of it in your ears. Can he hear it too? “What are you gonna give me?” He has yet to let go of your arm.

“You’ll see when I give it to you. It’s…it’s nothing much! It’s only due payment. For…for helping with my…overblot.” Azul looks away, shame falling over his face as he remembers that incident. “I can’t have me being in debt to you, you know” His eyes fall back onto you, and he notices that he’s still gripping your arm.

“O-oh!” He pulls his arm back quickly as it shrinks into his chest. “Sorry!” He clears his throat “… Um… so… will I be seeing you tonight?” That last phrase drips in desperation.

You feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach.

“Will I be seeing you tonight…?” That sounded oddly…no. No. Of course not. You already knew he didn’t think about you that way. Don’t get ahead of yourself Y/N.

You nod. “Sure…okay. Yeah...I’m gonna head back to my dorm to change, then I'll go over to the Lounge…is that okay?”

“Yes!!!” Azul says, a little too enthusiastically. Once more, he clears his throat. Man, how many times does a man need to clear his throat? “I mean- certainly. I’ll see you then”. Azul nods, before he turns on his heel and basically runs out the door.

…

Did that just happen? You stand in the exact same place Azul left you in. You lift your hand slowly to touch the place on your arm that Azul had wrapped his fingers around. You could still feel the chill that ran up your arm from his cold touch. Did he just…invite me to the dorm tonight? You touch your face, you feel light headed, your skin feels hot, your heart pounds.

Oh shit.

~~~

Now in casual clothes, you knock on the door of the VIP Lounge. Your hand shakes as you knock one, two, three times. Almost immediately after the third knock, the door swings open.

“Y/N!”

You almost fall back in surprise. “Oh my God!”, you stumble back a bit, as Azul suddenly stands inches away from your face.

“S-sorry!” Azul puts his hand up, about to grab you to stop you from falling, but stops just centimeters away from your skin. “Uh…” he puts his hand down quickly. “Sorry, I was just…close to the door. Ahem.” Azul steps aside, gesturing for you to enter the room. “Come in…please.”

That “please”... why did it sound a little like…he was begging? No. No no no. It was just your imagination. What is up with you and your imagination today?

As you walk into the room, Azul closes the door behind you. Studying his back, you take note of his attire. He remains in his black slacks and white button up dress shirt only, the top two buttons undone, revealing just a bit of his collarbone. He looks quite casual now. Definitely a change from his normal presentation. He really does have a nice figure. You think to yourself. Of course he does, he’s worked for it. Like everything else he has.

Azul quickly makes his way over to the other side of his desk after closing the door, walking straight past you, and he begins to rummage around in his drawer hastily. He has yet to say a word to you. Just as you’re about to say something, he presents you with something. Suddenly, he has pulled out…a bubble?

No. Not just a bubble. You take a step forward to get a closer look, “Azul, what is…” your eyes widen as you take a better look at the round item Azul has presented to you in the palms of his hands.

It was a clear, crystalized water bubble, and at the center of it lay the most beautiful conch shell you’d ever seen. This shell, glimmering in the crystallized water of the bubble, reflected the soft light of the VIP Lounge, making it seem as though it were glowing. Held in place by the crystallization of the water, the shell was on display perfectly in the center, as though it were on a pedestal. But, even more notable, was the color of this shell: It was an azure-blue, the same color as…something that seemed very, very familiar.

“This…is for you.”

“What?”

“It’s for you.”

“For…me?”

Azul’s hands shake as they begin to fall down towards the desk, taking the crystalized shell along with them. Rapidly, coming out in a string of words, Azul begins to speak, “If-if you don’t like it, you are under no obligation to accept it prefect! I will find some other way to repay you! What would you prefer? If you could provide me a list, I’d be more than happy to-”

“Azul. It’s…it’s, really, really pretty.”

His voice halts, and his face twitches. His eyes flicker up to meet yours,“…it is?”

Carefully, you pick up the bubble from his hands. As your hands slip under the bubble, you’re once again faced with the freezing sensation of Azul’s hands, as the back of your hands slide against the palms of his. Gently, you lift the bubble to your face, the light from the room causing the color of the conch in the water to reflect onto your face and eyes, creating a soft, blue tone.

Azul admires you as you study the conch. Oh, is he absolutely mesmerized by you being…well…mesmerized.

“H-how…? How did you get this?”

“...I made it.”

“You WHAT?” You say in disbelief, your eyes widening.

The surprise in your voice boosts Azul’s ego a bit, and he straightens up at this. “Hehe… quite. I made it. It’s actually a shell from the Atlantica Memorial Museum. I thought that it would be…appropriate…for the occasion…so I took a short trip down in the ocean for it. I thought that…it might have a little more worth if it was actually connected to a…shared experience of ours…” his voice trails off as the last little bit falls from his lips.

You look at him, genuinely confused. With your eyebrows furrowed, a string of questions leaves your mouth, “Huh? What do you mean? Occasion? Shared experience?”

“Well…” Azul takes a deep breath in, and a shaky breath out. “Those words… that you said to me…you told me I was amazing… that I had incredible diligence…during our walk outside the museum. Such kind words, for someone like me?” Azul's gaze falls to the ground, as his face begins to heat up once more in embarrassment. He awaits a response from you.

…

“Did I?”

Azul's jaw nearly drops in disbelief and his head shoots up to meet your eyes. “Y-you mean to say…you don’t remember?????”

“Honestly…no?”

At this, Azul nearly crumbles from the pressure and humiliation, “O-oh… I’m… um…apologies prefect…I just assumed you would remember. Oh dear, forget what I said, please-”

“No! …I mean. Whatever I said, I know I meant it. I might not remember saying it, but I’d never lie to you Azul. Your diligence is incredible. I see the way you work. You really are amazing. I admire you. Really.”

You set the conch down on his desk with a clink, and you run a finger over it, avoiding eye contact with Azul, gazing down at the bubble.

“I’m really, really happy you gave this to me Azul.” You look up at him, directly in the eyes. He’s frozen in place, taking in each and every one of your words.You stay silent for a couple seconds, before the next words fill the room’s stifling silence, “Did you notice… that the conch is the same color as your eyes?” You look back down at the bubble on the table, tenderly pulling it into the palms of your hands. You hold it up to Azul’s eye level. “Yes. Exactly the same” A small smile spreads across your lips. “Thank you, Azul”.

They…they like it?

Azul’s heart pounds. He feels as though he might just pass out. The knot in his chest feels so tight, he can’t breathe. God, he’s practically bursting at the seams. He can’t do it anymore. He can’t hold back. He needs to tell you. He needs to do this. Now. Right now.

Reaching his hands out, slowly, almost hesitantly, he softly grabs your wrists, one wrist in each hand. He lets go of one, grabbing the conch and gently setting it down on the table once more.

“Y/N.”

Your heart lurches as he says your name. Oh how you love the way he says your name.

You don’t say anything in response. You just stare at him. Your throat feels dry and itchy.

“I….”

Azul’s voice trails off…he contemplates.

Taking a deep breath in, Azul asks you a simple, but crucial question, “I need to be honest with you. Can…can I be honest with you? Please…?” Azul lets a hint of pleading, a hint of yearning, roll off of his tongue.

You can only nod in response. It’s a small, slow nod. You don’t break eye contact. Not once.

His voice chokes, “I…” and he softly shakes his head, pulling his hands away from your wrists as he places one hand to his chest, and the other falls limply to his side. He quietly gulps, parting his lips slightly to take a small breath before he speaks,

“I…I can’t stop ... .I can't stop thinking…about…” his fingers tightly grip his button-up shirt.

You look at him, his conflicted state plastered on his face, reflected in his eyes, as though he’s fighting some sort of inner battle.

“About you.”

You feel as though all the blood drains from your face. Lightheadedness hits you like a truck.

His hands visibly shake as they return to softly grip your wrists. Slowly, he runs his hands up and over the palms of your hands, tentatively intertwining his fingers with yours. His hands feel clammy and cold, and that familiar chill crashes over you, climbing into the depths of your nerves, as his hands tremble in your own. He holds on lightly, as though he’s scared you’re going to dissipate into the air, like you’re going to crumble with any pressure applied.

“I…feel…so…” his voice trails off…

…

“Confused.” His voice cracks with the last syllable.

And with that, his next words come out like crashing waves.

“I can’t concentrate, Y/N. My paperwork, my meetings, my studies, none of it. I simply can't. Every single day…I feel like… like…” He squeezes your hands ever so slightly, “…like I’m going insane…All I can think about is you. I’m losing sleep Y/N. I can’t sleep.” That last word contains a hint of pining, a whine, like a dog pleading with its owner.

“Y/N…” Azul releases your intertwined hands, now wrapping both of your hands in his own, cupping them into his and pulling them close to his chest.

“Tell me…what do I do?” His voice cracks, the last part of the sentence essentially a whimper. He’s searching hopelessly for an answer. And he wants you to give it to him.

You stand there, absolutely dumbfounded. You part your mouth, but no words come out.

Worry not, Azul’s not finished. He continues on.

I’ve made a fool of myself already. My reputation. Our relationship. I’ve risked it all. I’m not one to gamble…but I have nothing left to lose now.

“I’ve never….felt this way before. Y/N…would you… would you be willing…to take a chance with me?”

His hands tremble over yours as your eyes widen at this request.

“You know…I hate to ask for things. But…I’m willing to swallow my pride today. For this. For you. I’d like to propose a…a deal…”

He pauses, studying your eyes, hoping maybe, just maybe, he’d find an answer in them.

“Would you… give me your heart?…You…you wouldn’t leave this deal empty handed..! A mutual exchange…even and fair…you give me your heart…and I’ll give you mine.”

Still, you are unable to say anything. You feel dizzy, you can’t think straight. Your words are caught in your throat. Are you about to fall over? Is this real? You’re not dreaming right?

Azul takes a deep breath in, and boldly takes one more step: he pulls a single hand of yours to his face, both of his hands holding your single one in place on his left cheek. He holds on, softly, but unyielding, as though he’s scared you’ll disappear into thin air. The same as his hands, his face is freezing cold.

It must be his whole body that feels this way, you think to yourself.

“Y/N…how do you feel about me? Please…tell me…I can’t continue feeling this way. I feel as though I’m going to explode Y/N. My chest…it feels so heavy all the time. I can’t take it anymore. I’m at my wits’ end.”

…

“So tell me… what do you think of this deal…?”

You stare at him, and he stares at you. The look in his eyes, so desperate. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable before. The overblot looks like nothing in comparison to the look he has on his face right now. He looks as though he’s risking it all. That’s because, for him, he really is.

It’s your turn now. Softly, you run your hand slightly down over his face, slipping away from the grasp of his hands. You run your thumb softly over his beauty mark under his lower left lip, and your pointer finger follows its lead. It’s a gentle touch. The fingers run over it, bordering his lower lip, tracing even, ever so briefly, before you put your hand down to your side.

“….Okay.”

Azul stares blankly at you.

“…Okay?”

“I accept Azul. I accept your deal. Okay.” You nod subtly, your face feeling hot as you release these words from your throat. Your acceptance of his words. Acceptance of his feelings.

Azul lets out a sharp, shaky breath, as though he’d been holding it for years now. Then, he lets out a chuckle, breaking out into a cheesy smile, laughing, almost like a child.

He places his palm to his forehead in relief, sounding absolutely shocked, “R-really? You do???”

You let out a small laugh, seeing the way his tense demeanor fades away, and you see Azul for what he really, truly is in this moment: A guy that’s absolutely and utterly devoted…to you. “Yes. I accept your deal Azul. I feel the same way.”

Azul lets out an excited “Ha!!” As he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him. He doesn’t break eye contact, despite only being a few inches away from your face now, as he asks,

“You…you’re not joking right? You’re not toying with me??? You really mean it??”

You nod, a bit more vigorously this time, hoping it’ll really communicate your commitment. Laughing, even more, you respond, “Yes, yes, oh my god yes. Dude…I’ve never seen you this excited before! This is actually kind of insane bro…”

At this point, Azul couldn’t give two shits about your remark. All he cares about is your reciprocated feelings. It’s mutual. Your feelings are mutual.

I could die right now.

Holding you close, having pulled you in by one arm after your acceptance, he cups your face in his hands, only for a brief moment, and runs his fingers down your cheeks. “Th-this is wonderful! Splendid even!” He says excitedly. Breaking away from your face, he exclaims “Okay!”. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you roughly over to the other side of his desk, and begins rummaging around in the drawer.

You peek over his shoulder, trying to see what he’s looking so maniacally for.

Then he reveals it.

He pulls out a golden scroll, hastily splaying it out onto the table. He forcefully pushes a pen into your hand.

“J-just sign here!!” He grasps your hand with the pen, and guides it over to the characteristic “x” and line, indicating the need for a signature.

Awww hell nah bruh.

You immediately pull your hand away, nuzzling it into the safety of your chest. “Azul! What the fuck!”

“W-what???!” Azul asks, genuinely surprised and concerned. Oh… does he look like a puppy that was just scolded for the first time.

“Dude!! N-No! I thought the deal and contract thing was…like…a metaphor!!!”

“W-why would it be a metaphor??” Azul cries out. “This, this is a…” Azul thinks back to his conversation with Jade, his words flashing in his mind, “A physical manifestation of my appreciation!”

Thanks for that Jade..

You look at him, mouth wide open in shock. “Because it’s fucking insane to have the person you confess to sign a contract ensuring they like you back???”

“W-well..! I need to be sure!”

“…” You let out a scoff of disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest as you shake your head.

But then, your face softens, and you let out a chuckle

“...Ha…alright. You know what? Fine.”

You put your hand down to the “x” on the paper, the pen hovering over the line, “but on one condition”, you add in.

Azul freezes. “W-what?”

They want to make a bargain? With me? Who do they think they are? No one proposes contracts to Azul Ashengrotto. I do the proposing.

Huh. Guess some things really do never change.

“I eat at the Mostro Lounge. For free.”

Azul’s face, previously draped in shock, melts into a soft, almost mocking smile.

“Well…as my partner…wouldn’t that be a given? What an ignorant question.”

“...Ignorant question?” You raise an eyebrow. “Hm. Somehow, the scroll looks…unappealing suddenly. Wouldn’t you agree?” You look up at him, smirking as you pull your hand away from the paper.

“SMART! SMART QUESTION. SMART QUESTION. INCREDIBLY INTELLIGENT, YOU ARE MY DEAR!”

Azul puts his hands up, waving them frantically towards the paper, indicating for you to sign. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! S-sign the scroll! Please!”

You laugh at Azul, and finally, your pen glides across the paper, and you effortlessly lift your hand from the sheet as the scroll dissipates into the air, leaving gold specks of light in its wake.

I cannot believe I just signed that fucking scroll. Did I just sell my soul?

Azul watches the light as it fades, gold specks reflected in his glasses. He turns to look at you, smiling as though he’d just scored the business deal of a lifetime. Because to him, he had.

“This…this is wonderful! Haha!” He breaks out into giddy laughter, but… is cut off?

He feels…something warm…? On his face…?

Oh.

Ohhh.

You had leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Azul stands there. In utter shock. His body tense, he feels as though the wind could knock him over if it felt so inclined.

You back up. One step. two steps. You smile at him as you grab his hand and wrap it around the pen.

“Where’d your voice go? Sea witch got your voice?” You say in a teasing tone.

“Y….you…”

You giggle, “You know. Your hands are incredibly cold. So is your face. They say your lips are most sensitive to temperature. I guess I just wanted to see if that was true. I can now confirm that to, in fact, be the truth!”

You let out a quick laugh, smiling at him as you watch him basically self-destruct before your eyes. You release his hand which now holds the pen, and you turn to that glass bubble on the table that kickstarted this night between you too.

“Thank you again, Azul!” You say, in almost a playful manner, knowing the drastic change in the mood is going to give him emotional whiplash. Not to worry, that was the point. “For the wonderful gift, both uh…physical and verbal?” You say, furrowing your eyebrows and lifting the conch in your hand “I dunno….Anyways!”

Azul remains standing in place, watching you. The rest of his body still frozen, he breaks into an awkward smile, nodding slightly, not once taking his eyes off of you.

You head for the door, shell in hand, pulling the knob and opening it. Before you exit, you add in. “I’ll see you tomorrow then? I’ll head back over here after class. That sound okay to you?”

One last time, Azul nods, this time vigorously, his frozen body now coming back to life as he takes a step towards your figure, his hand slightly extended out to you, as though he doesn’t want you to go, “Y-yes! Yes! That sounds wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow…Y/N.”

And with that, you leave him with a final smile before you walk out of the room, and you shut the door behind you.

Click

And once again, Azul is left to his own devices.

The tension and stress hitting him like a slap in the face, Azul’s legs give out from underneath him. He collapses to the ground in a heap. How he managed to not do that way earlier, he doesn’t know. He opens his hand and looks down to reveal the pen. The very pen you’d used to sign off your love. To him.

“I suppose I could give Jade…a bonus…or something. For the help.” Azul mutters to himself, not caring about his monetary loss one bit.

The pen feels warm in his cold hands, remnants of you lying in his palm.

Your heart for mine. Not a bad trade.

…

Perhaps I should begin drafting up a marriage contract?

~~~

THE END 😝😝

I love you Azul Ashengrotto I’ve been hyperfixated on you for three yearsl they could never make me hate you bbg gets on all fours and starts meowing rubs my face against your leg like an overly affectionate cat searching for your attention id do anything for you azul.

fyi this fic is basically a self-insert of myself and azul i literally just pulled a find and replace all at the end to generalize it i love azul sm i love him.

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #idia shroud #fluff #fanfic #self insert #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #riddle rosehearts #vil schoenheit #jamil viper #malleus draconia #twst oc

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zepskies · 4 months ago

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August Fic Recs

Hey, friends!

I got inspired by the awesome monthly rec posts that @winchestergirl2 and @deanwinchesterswitch put together, and decided to try this out. I might not do this every month, but we'll see! lol I now realize how much time and effort this takes, so to you guys who do this on the regular, I salute you! 🫡 😂

Note: If the author provided a summary, I'll include it. If not, and if it's untitled, I'll include the first line of the story. If it's a series and the author provided a series masterlist link in the chapter post, I'll also include it. MINORS BEWARE: a lot of this is 18+ content!

Supernatural

Dean Winchester x Reader:

@mxltifxnd0m -

Cute Glasses

Boyfriend Headcanons

@dewwinchester -

Stitches Summary: Dean texts you for help, and you drop everything for him.

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior -

Things Learned and Unlearned | Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15 Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Every Fucking Time Summary: You want to help Dean, but he knows you can't.

@talltalesandbedtimestories -

Just a Little Spice Summary: Dean likes to spice things up, but it would be nice if he didn’t have to put his life in danger in the process.

@luci-in-trenchcoats -

Oh, Baby Summary: When Dean is cursed on a hunt and turned into a baby, the reader has to take care of him along with Sam. Dean however, is a bit more adult than they might realize…

A Shirtless Winchester

Imagine...Breaking Dean Out of Jail

@zeppelinlvr -

"Better?" "Much" Summary: waking up next to Dean and getting ready with him.

@ohsc -

Help You

@rizlowwritessortof -

Sweet Escape - Part 1, Part 2 Summary: What happens when a friend jokingly does a spell at your birthday party to bring your cardboard standup of Dean Winchester to life?

@deans-queen -

Stolen Moments Summary: Y/N finds herself unable to resist capturing a rare, peaceful moment of Dean Winchester sleeping in a motel room. But when Dean wakes up and catches her in the act, what starts as an innocent photo op quickly turns into an intimate encounter.

Sweet Distractions Summary: Reader (Y/N) is at the bunker, working on an essay for her Child Development class. When Dean comes to check on her, his bad-boy charm quickly becomes a distraction she can’t resist, no matter how hard she tries.

@tofics -

Let There Be Light Summary: You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, despite having been raised entirely different from the two. Where you were brought up with love and care, John raised Sam and Dean with rules and obedience. Seeing what Dean does for the world, you decide it's time that he gets his own share of love...

@jackles010378 -

A Sweet Treat Summary: Dean gets a little excited when Y/N makes his favourite treat.

Dean Winchester x OC:

@rizlowwritessortof -

Remember Me - Part 4

@spnbabe67 -

Girls, Girls, Girls Summary: While on a witch hunt Dean gets hit with a spell. Later at the hotel, Dean feels the effects of the spell and Tori has to help him through it.

It Takes Two Summary: Dean and Tori get roped into doing a pregnancy yoga session and he reminisces on how he found out she was pregnant. (Dean's POV)

Comfortember Day 7: Sick As A Dog Summary: When Dean wakes up sick, it's up to Tori to make him feel better again.

Comfortember 2023 Master List

The Broken Heart Trilogy Master List

Sam Winchester x Reader:

@ohsc -

Delicate

Untitled Drabble - "She wouldn't stop giggling."

The Boys

Soldier Boy x Reader:

@kaleldobrev -

Yes Ma'am (Soldier Boy x Plus-size!Reader) Summary: Macho Man Ben never thought he’d ever take orders from a woman; but now he does so with a smile (aka Ben is whipped and he doesn’t care).

After Everything Summary: You and Ben have a heart-to-heart.

@artyandink -

The Art of Heresy - Prequel, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Summary: Modern day, 2022, and you have no clue what’s going on. You knew what you went through. You knew it was real, but why were there people trying to convince you that everything that happened to you wasn’t real. Hell, you called bullshit. But you get your chance to fight back when you get a call at your door.

Billy Butcher x Reader:

@lady-z-writes -

Untitled Drabble - "Butcher stumbles in the office. Haggard, nothing new."

Tracker

Russell Shaw x Reader:

@impala-dreamer -

Don't Mention It

@luci-in-trenchcoats -

M.I.A. Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…

Jacklesverse

Various characters portrayed by Jensen Ackles and/or crossovers:

@deanbrainrotwritings -

Jacklesverse Bingo 2023 Masterlist

@justagirlinafandomworld -

Stranded - SPN/The Boys crossover: Soldier Boy & Reader, with a mention of Dean.

@lamentationsofalonelypotato -

It's Not a Big Deal - SPN/The Boys crossover: Soldier Boy x Reader, with a side helping of Dean. Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

@artyandink -

Nature's Beauty Summary: You have stretch marks. How would the boys react to that?

Chicago Med

Will Halstead x Reader:

@deanstead -

5 Times You Held Back + 1 Time You Didn't Have To Summary: Five times you held back, and the one time you didn’t have to.

Wow, I read a lot this month! 😂 I hope you enjoy these lovely writers and their stories as much as I did. 💜

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yall-batman-fanfic · 10 days ago

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Blurred Photos | Batfam x Reader!Magician x Batsis

Synopsis: Gotham press is going nuts with the birth of Bruce Wayne’s daughter and is trying to get a scoop, but it wasn’t just the press that wanted a photo of Gotham’s princess.

Bruce and Vivian Wayne were protective with their new born daughter. They didn’t let the press get a glimpse of the girl for months. For some reason, every stolen photo of the family whenever they roam the city would have the infant girl blurred or the photo itself would be blurred. When a photographer thought it was just some plot by their costume criminals that has something against digital photographs, they turned to film, but even their shots with the film were compromised. Or their cameras would have some problem before taking the shot.

Strange.

It infuriated many photographers as their bosses wanted to be the first to publish an article about the most awaited birth in Gotham. When Vivian and Bruce revealed their pregnancy many months ago, people were trying to get a scoop from them – what’s the gender? What’s going to be the name of their child? How do the couple feel about having a baby at this late stage in their life? And for Vivian, how does it feel being pregnant at such an old age? The last part nearly had the chasing paparazzi punched by Bruce if it weren’t for Dick stopping him… and for Jason doing it himself.

“Alright, what did you do, Viv. You gotta tell us how you did it,” Tim said as he looked at the magazine that had their photo in the mall but with Valerie’s face blurred out.

It was one of the rare times he and his brothers got to babysit their sister and bring her to the mall, and during their time there, there were so many who wanted to get a photo of Valerie. While Jason and Damian did a good job to get them far from their sister and stop any photos to be taken, there were still those who got a photo of them sitting in a cafe with the stroller.

Or Jason wearing the baby carrier with their sister happily sitting there and pointing for her bigger and older brother to go near the cat that was in the fountain.

Or when Damian was carrying her while he let her drink her milk from the bottle.

It was an adorable sight to see her sons with their sister and would want to have those shots but she knew how the press worked and she needed to protect her daughter so she placed a little glamor to do it.

“A little spell I learned,” Vivian answered as she fed Valerie some mushed food. “It’s a really old spell that witches used to protect their charge and secrets from unwanted people by blurring out the senses of those listening when that charge mentions that secret. What I did is a little tweaking with the spell that would blur out the photos from untrusted people. That’s why you guys get to take photos of little Val.” She then took a scoop of the food to eat. “Smart, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” said Tim.

“Mumma! Mumma!” Val giggled when she ate her mushed food and asked for more.

Tim chuckled. “Viv, that’s for Val, not for you.”

“I know, but it’s really good. Here, have a taste,” she shoved the spoon into Tim’s mouth to taste before he could protest.

“Yeah, not bad,” Tim said and went to get another spoon for Val. He made sure to tickle the girl as he passed her.

“‘Immy!” Val made grabbing motions to him.

“Okay, I’ll stay here with you,” Tim said and sat beside her and fed his sister while Vivian finally had her breakfast. He then took out his phone and took a selfie of him and Valerie holding his finger, then sent it to their group chat.

It instantly had replies from everyone in the chat.

Barbara replied: Cutie!

Duke said: Adorable! — I can get some more baby food before heading back after patrol, Mrs. P.

Steph said: I wanna squish those cheeks! So adorable… oh, Tim there too.

Cass sent a ton of emojis that were filled with hearts and kisses.

Damian replied: You’re hogging her now, Drake, but when I get home I’ll bring Valerie on mine and Titus’ walks.

Then Jason said: Goodluck with that. I’m on my way home. I’m taking her with me.

Dick replied with a photo of some baby clothes he found in Bludhaven with a caption saying: They got Nightwing onesies!

Damian replied with: Unfair. How come they don’t have Robin merchandise?

Vivian laughed at their chats and turned her phone on silent for now, as it kept sending notifications. She then fed her daughter another scoop and said: “You are a troublemaker, you know that? And you’re not even doing it.”

Valerie squealed and happily ate her mushed food, and as Alfred entered the kitchen with a warm towel to clean up the girl’s cheeks and hands. “Gampa!”

Alfred smiled at the girl and asked, “Here you go, Ms. Valerie. Time to clean up.”

Valerie pouted her lips, thinking it would help her grandfather and let him wipe the mess on her face, and then she let go of Tim to clean her hands.

“There, all clean,” said Alfred.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Vivian said and picked up the girl from her high chair and told Tim she was just going to give Valerie a bath. “Then, we could head to the garden and play with Grandpa Alfred.”

~*~

Bruce rarely has visitors from his family in the office. Vivian didn’t want to disturb him at work as much as she could, but with Valerie now here he welcomes the visits and their lunches together. So, when his secretary mentioned that Vivian and Valerie were on their way up, he immediately packed up so he could meet them halfway in the building and they could head for lunch.

He made sure to leave his blazer and opt for a simple jacket, having learned that lunch with his daughter could mean there is a possibility of a mess.

As he walked through the corridor, he followed the sound of some of the employees that were making a commotion with the whispers of “Valerie Wayne’s here”, because at the very center of it was Vivian holding their daughter who was shy with the sight of the people around them. Lucius Fox was with them and he was more than able to shield the child from the adoring fans who kept calling the child’s attention.

“Dada!” Valerie whimpered and reached for him.

“I’m here, Val,” Bruce picked up his daughter and kissed Vivian in greeting. “Val, is everything alright?”

Valerie hid her face at the crook of her father’s neck and held onto him like her life depended on it.”

“Dada,” Valerie muttered.

“Lucius, we’ll just head out for lunch.”

“Of course, Mr. Wayne. Do enjoy your lunch. It was nice to see you again, Professor Pryor, and a delight to see little Valerie Pryor-Wayne.”

Vivian thanked Lucius for the help and joined Bruce to their walk out of the building and to their favorite cafe that wasn’t far. They took their table inside by the window that showed Wayne Tower, Valerie liked looking up to see the gargoyles there.

“How was your day?” Vivian asked him.

“Meetings. I might take a trip to Argentina to see our division there. There’s some issues that need addressing. I was thinking of bringing you both along. Dick can look over everyone.”

“Val’s first trip out of the country,” Vivian fed their daughter with mashed food. “Wanna see Dada work?”

Valerie, as if she understood, nodded and reached to get more from her spoon.

“Good thing she already has a passport. Just tell me when and I’ll prepare our things. Man, the others will riot when they find out that we’re taking Val for a couple of days out of the country.”

“How about you two, how was your day?”

“Usual. Val and I dropped Damian off at school. Then we headed home where we played with Alfred in the garden. She almost ate mud but we caught her before she could take a bite of her mud pie.”

As they had their lunch, conversing about their day, a man outside the window passed by and took a photo of Valerie before they could even notice. The flash startled Valerie that the girl started crying. Bruce was quick to his feet and started running out of the cafe and chased the man who took the shot. Vivian, while holding their daughter, looked out of the window and saw the man about to cross. With a wave of her hand, she had him blocked by a runaway shopping cart.

Bruce approached the man and held out his hand to him. “The camera,” Bruce glared at him. He knew that the photo would be compromised, thanks to Vivian’s spell, but he wasn’t going to let anyone get away with something like this. Especially when it wasn’t a public event nor has he given the press any permission to post photos of his daughter on their papers. Not that they could anyway.

“Come on, Wayne,” the man chuckled. “It’s not like it hurt anyone.”

Bruce grabbed the man by his arm, pulled him up and pointed in the direction of the cafe window where Vivian was trying to calm Valerie’s cries. “No harm? My daughter is barely one, and you’re already circling her like vultures. I should report you for taking my daughter’s photo without our consent.”

“It’s just the job – come on!”

Bruce wouldn’t have it, he took the SD card from his camera and pocketed it. “I’ll give this back to your boss,” he said then walked back to the cafe where Valerie reached for him.

Bruce took his daughter and her cries calmed instantly in her father’s arms. “You’re okay,” Bruce whispered to her. “You’re okay.” Sitting back down, Vivian pulled down the blinds of the window, and sat next to Bruce as she checked on her daughter. “Thanks for the shopping cart, if you hadn’t I bet that chase would have gone for a block.”

“I’m sure you would have found some way to catch him,” Vivian wiped her daughter’s tears. “I guess lunch is ruined, huh?”

“We can get these to go and eat at my office.”

“Val would make a mess.”

“It’ll be fine… I think we should have just had lunch there in the first place, but she does like to look at the gargoyles.”

“Another Wayne trait she got,” Vivian chuckled. She then asked one of the staff to pack their food to go and to bring the bill.

After packing up, the couple went back to Wayne Tower where they continued their lunch at Bruce’s office. They settled on sitting on the ground where Valerie could crawl on her outdoor blanket and see out the window. She didn’t have her gargoyles there but she did have the city and she was close to the sky.

“Mumma!” Valerie pointed out to the horizon.

“You want to fly?” Vivian asked as she ate her lunch.

“Mumma!” Valerie raised her arms up.

Bruce pulled his daughter to sit on his lap and fed her more of her food. “Soon, we’ll fly around Gotham. I’ll take you flying.”

“Or we could ask Clark or Jon or Conner to help out,” Vivian teased him.

“No,” he said with a deadpan face.

“Dada!” Valerie kissed his cheek.

Vivian could easily just take Valerie flying with her using her magic but she knew how important it was for Bruce to give that experience to their daughter so she kept the offer to herself.

“Also, when we went to the store earlier, Val was pretty insistent on this, and I just can’t say no,” Vivian pulled out a toy from their bag. When Valerie saw the plush, she reached out for it and hugged it as soon as she got hold.

“Ba-man!” Valerie pointed at the toy, telling her father who it was.

Bruce chuckled. “Who is that?”

‘Ba-man!”

They had an agreement, the entire family, that for the safety of their secret identities and for Valerie too, they won’t disclose to her about the whole Bat-vigilante gig they had going on. They would come to see her in their costumes, since she would be too young to remember any of it, and it seems the silhouette of the Dark Knight imprinted on her mind that she can easily identify Batman whenever she sees them.

“Maybe we shouldn’t bring her to the Batcave so often now,” said Bruce.

“She’s still young, Bruce. She won’t remember much. What she will remember is that Batman and the Robins are there to protect her,” Vivian kissed his cheek. “Also, the boys are jealous when I showed them the photo of her hugging Bat-plush, so they started looking for their plush merch.”

“Are there any?” Bruce raised a brow.

“I’m sure Bludhaven has a Nightwing one, can’t say for Robin and Red Hood or Batgirl… I think Jason and Barbara are planning on making their own.”

~*~

“I got the baby bag,” said Tim.

“You forgot her snacks,” Jason shoved the small Tupperwares into the bag.

“What about Bat-plush? You think she’ll want it?” Damian asked.

“Bring it anyway,” Dick replied.

It was one of the rare days when they get to babysit Valerie. Bruce and Vivian were called to a meeting for the Wayne Foundation about a charity event they were going to host and with Alfred helping to set up the caterers, they didn’t have anyone to look after their daughter, which meant she’ll be left with her brothers and sisters.

It was only Damian at the manor that time and he swore that he can look after his baby sister on his own, while Bruce and Valerie had complete faith in him to protect Valerie, they were not so sure about handling the diaper changes or the feeding or what are allowed for babies to do and have. So, they called for the only son they knew who had good experience after looking after all of them all.

Dick.

But for reassurance, Bruce also called Tim.

Then Jason also arrived, out of the blue, to see Valerie. So, now there were four. Then Duke arrived after finishing his patrol and was about to head out to visit his parents who were still at the hospital (for further observation after Vivian cured them of Joker gas) but decided to do so after the four were settled with Valerie’s things.

Now there were five of them.

Five brothers.

Five Robins.

What could go wrong, right?

Duke only watched as Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian fussed about what to put in the bag and how to use the stroller while he held Valerie on the counter. The girl was more than content to be in his arms while she munched on a soft biscuit.

“Duke!” Valerie handed him a biscuit from her plate.

“Thanks, Val,” Duke chuckled and ate the biscuit. “They’re taking a while, aren’t they?”

Valerie sighed and tugged on his hoodie. “Lena,” she said, pointing out the kitchen window to the garden.

“Wanna visit Helena?” Duke asked.

Valerie nodded.

“Okay, let’s wait for them there,” Duke picked up the baby from the counter and took the Batman plush from the seat before they went out to the garden and wait for the others to finish their discussion on the list of things that’s needed in the bag. Completely forgetting about the list that Vivian placed on the refrigerator for their guide.

Sitting on the grass, Duke set Valerie to stand on the ground and held her hands.

“Mumma?” Valerie asked.

“Mrs. P is in a meeting today so it’s just us, Val.”

“Dada?”

“Also in a meeting.”

Valerie pouted.

“I know, Val. But we’re gonna have loads of fun today, if Tim gets to finish packing.”

Valerie sighed again and sat on the ground with her Bat-plush, she started playing with the toy, moving its stubby arms and legs around, until a shadow loomed over her. Looking up, Valerie grinned, showing her two front teeth, and reached out to the person.

“Cassie!” Valerie got up to hug her sister.

“Hi, Val,” Cassandra sat on the ground and hugged the girl. “Miss you.”

Valerie didn’t reply, she only hugged her tight and settled on Cassandra’s lap.

“Hey, Cass. Didn’t hear you come in,” said Duke. “I thought you were following on a lead.”

“Finished. Now babysit.”

“Vivian told you, didn’t she?”

Cassandra nodded. “Missed Val,” she hugged the girl and kissed her cheek. Val giggled and returned the gesture. “Taking long?”

“Yeah, Tim and the others can’t figure out how to use the stroller and what to put in the bag.”

“Let’s help. Then we went out,” Cassandra handed Valerie to Duke again and the three of them went inside. Upon entering, they were greeted by the sight of Dick and the others having a hard time to figure out how to fit all the things they prepared into the bag and how to fix the stroller.

Sighing, Cassandra took the note from the fridge and showed to them what needs to be brought along. What made Duke laugh was the first line on the note in Vivian’s penmanship: Congratulations, you finally found this! Or Cassandra and Duke found it and showed it to you four. What to bring for Val’s baby bag…

Then for the stroller, Cassandra took the thing from Jason and with one push of a button she had the thing standing from its folded state, then back to being folded so they could put it in the car.

“Easy,” she said to them and carried the thing out. They’ll be bringing Dick’s car since it had more space. Next challenge was putting the car seat, luckily Duke was familiar with how to do it, as he watched Batman set one in the Batmobile once, not sure why but he did help Bruce when they bought one for the car. With the car seat in Dick’s car, not everyone would fit in the vehicle. Jason gave in to taking his bike and meeting them in the park with Cassandra.

Once at their destination, with Valerie riding her stroller that Jason was pushing, they were met by Barbara and Stephanie, and Kate, who wanted to see the youngest member of their family.

“There she is! My little cousin – once, twice, thrice, I don’t give a fuck, removed,” Kate picked up the girl, who happily pulled on her red hair as it reminded her of her mother’s red hair. “Yeah, ow, ow… Someone get the baby now.”

“Alright, Val, let’s go!” Barbara took her but got the same treatment too so Jason took her from them.

“What are you guys doing here?” Damian asked.

“Dick messaged me that you guys were taking Val to the park,” said Barbara.

“I was really just going to do errands, but when Dick said to the group chat that you were heading here, I thought why not see the little princess first. Cass, wanna come with?” Steph replied.

Cassandra nodded, after saying goodbye to Valerie with a kiss on the cheek and went with Stephanie.

Kate shrugged and said: “Would you believe me that I genuinely wanted to see the kid?”

“A little hard to do,” Jason snickered.

“Honestly, I did want to see Val but I also need to head out.”

“Listen, I gotta bounce too,” Duke said. “I’m gonna visit my parents at the hospital.”

“Okay,” Jason tossed him his bike. “Not a scratch.”

“You got it. Thanks, Jay,” Duke then tickled Valerie’s tummy. “I’ll see you later, Val.”

“Duke!” Valerie grabbed his face and placed a smooch on his forehead. “Play!”

“I gotta go, kiddo, but I promise we’ll play when I get back.”

Duke bid his goodbye to her and left with Jason’s bike to see his parents.

Alone in the park, the four brothers set the baby on her stroller to walk around. The entire time, Valerie was pointing at things and saying what they were and calling for either of them to pick her up. When they came to the playground, Damian had Valerie on his lap as they rode the swing. Dick was sure to keep watch just in case she falls off.

“You sending a pic to Vivian?” Tim asked Jason.

“Yeah, Ma asked me to send her one once we’re at the park,” Jason said and hit send. “I never really liked playgrounds.”

“Any reason?”

“It’s where perverts hang around.”

Tim frowned. “Oh.”

Jason leaned back and looked around the area, taking in every individual he spotted and reading their actions like a hawk. After hearing what he said, Tim too was on high alert and not just for his little sister but for the other kids in the playground too. All of them were there to protect these people, not just Valerie.

“Jay!” Valerie got down from the swing, and while holding Damian’s hand they were walking towards the bench where they sat.

Jason smiled and got up to meet her halfway. “You hungry, little bird?”

Valerie nodded.

“Okay, let’s get you some snacks.”

Sitting on the bench, Jay placed her on her stroller and had Tim prepare her food and Dick cleaning her hands.

It was when it happened, they saw the paparazzi trying to hide behind some bushes and take shots of Valerie with their cameras. They knew about Vivian’s spell but as Bruce said, if they let it happen it would have the press suspicious of them that they were the ones responsible for the blurred photos or see the Waynes as weak and take advantage of it.

Dick and Tim were the one who acted on it and went to approach the guys who were taking the photos, the two chased the photographers and blocked their path. As they discussed with them about the photos, and Tim videoing it live while saying they were taking photos of kids at the playground without the consent of the parents, Jason decided to get some food himself as the situation was taken care of.

And it was there he saw it. The odd one in the playground. The one person that wasn’t supposed to be there. It was a man wearing a plain looking jumper and shirt, with his slacks and leather shoes. He wore glasses that were slightly tinted – probably transitional — And he had his phone pointed at Valerie’s direction as she crawled on her blanket towards Damian and the Bat-plush.

Fucker!

Jason ditched the hotdog stand and jumped on the guy, grabbing him by the arm and twisting it to his back.

“What the fuck!” The man exclaimed. “You’re going to break my arm, man!”

“I should, but my little sister’s here so I’m not going to break your fucking arm for taking photos of her, perv.”

“Todd!” Damian had Valerie in his arms and was about to approach him but Jason said to him and to everyone in the park: “DON’T COME ANY CLOSE, KID! THIS ONE’S BEEN TAKING PHOTOS OF KIDS IN THE PARK!”

Damian instantly hid Valerie from the man’s direction and placed her in the stroller.

“I’M NOT!” The man called out.

“Really? Show us your phone.”

“You’re not the police!”

Tim and Dick came to the commotion and the former took the phone from the man’s pocket. He opened it by using facial recognition and went to the photos. Normally he wouldn’t pull something like this, but the moment he saw the photos, he held the phone and punched the man across the face.

“You’re fucking, sick! She’s a baby!” Tim grabbed him by the shirt.

“I already called GCPD,” said Dick. “I’ll take it from here, Jay.” He was a police officer and he could talk to the GCPD about this since he was out of his jurisdiction.

Jason released the man and handed him to Dick. “I’ll take Val home.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Tim, go on ahead too.”

“Alright,” Tim handed the phone to Dick and whispered to his ear, “Val’s photos are blurred out. But there’s photos of other kids there.”

“Got it, thanks.”

After cleaning their hands at the park faucet, Tim and Jason packed up and took their sister away from the park. Valerie didn’t want to go just yet and nearly cried as she was having fun and because she sensed the tense mood with her brothers.

“Dick?” Valerie asked them.

“Dick will be home later,” said Tim.

“You should have broken his arm,” Damian muttered.

“And traumatize those kids and Val?” Jason glanced at Damian at the rearview mirror. “Let Dick handle it. He’s got everything he needs to have GCPD to put him away.”

When they got home, they immediately called Bruce and Vivian to discuss what happened. The couple were at the door minutes later and went to see their daughter who was mindlessly playing on the bed in the nursery with Damian and Tim. Not long, Dick also arrived and informed them that the man was arrested – he’s been arrested for similar charges and selling photos of children online. Didn’t matter to who.

Vivian held her daughter in a protective embrace, it made her feel so sick to know that someone would do that to Valerie and to those children in the park. It disgusted her. Bruce was silent for a while before telling Dick and the others that they needed to find a way to find how this man got his network. Batman’s villains are not just the costumed criminals in Gotham but all those who do crime, especially those like the man they encountered. He’ll make sure to mention this with Jim tonight during Patrol.

Sensing the down feeling in her family, Valerie started to tear up and hiccuping, she hid her face in her mother’s embrace and cried silently.

“Oh, Val,” Vivian rubbed her back. “It’s okay.”

Valerie cried.

“Maybe we should go somewhere to lighten the mood,” she told them. “Maybe we can settle at Helena’s garden for a while just to ease the tension. I think she could sense it.”

“Good idea,” Bruce brushed his daughter’s hair. “Come on, love,” he reached for his daughter and let her cry on his shoulder. Before they left the room, he placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder and said, “you did good. All of you did.”

“I’ll head out and start hunting the perv’s network,” said Jason.

“Jason,” Vivian called for him. “Stay for a while.”

“I’ll be back once this is done, Ma.”

“Jay,” Valerie whimpered.

Jason smiled sadly and patted her head. “I’ll be back, I promise. I just have to do this first.” Turning to Vivian, Jason wrapped her in an embrace and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “This is what I do, Ma. I gotta go while the trail is hot, I’m sure his network is now packing up. I’ll have Roy to make the chase fast.”

“Okay,” Vivian sighed and squeezed her son’s hand. “Come home, okay? Val misses you.”

“I will.”

With that, Jason left and went on his hunt, and the Red Hood and Arsenal’s work was fruitful. In less than twenty-four hours they found one of the man’s networks, and from there they traced everything to a pimp that ran the forum and was based in Gotham. After informing Batman of their find, Batman informed Jim Gordon. With the Batfamily and the GCPD, they shut down the whole operation.

Along with the arrest of the whole operation, Vivian insisted that the Wayne Foundation aggressively supporting to organizations that were fighting against such syndicates to put to stop such disgusting acts. Many were

~*~

“Why don’t we just hire a photographer?” Stephanie asked as they took their place at the mantle with Tim trying to arrange them all to fit the shot.

“Because it’s safer if we just take the family photo than hiring someone else,” said Time.

Standing before the mantle, the entire Batfamily gathered with Vivian sitting on the leather seat with Valerie on her lap. Bruce stood at her right side, a hand on her shoulder, and his other hand on Damian’s shoulder. Cassandra sat on the armrest of Vivian’s seat and beside her was Stephanie and Duke. Alfred stood just behind Damian, and the rest were gathered around to fit the photo.

“Until when is the ban on posting photos of Val online?” Stephanie asked.

“Until she’s old enough to attend galas,” Vivian answered.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, Jason, move over so I can just —” Tim hit the button and ran to his spot with time to spare.

“Master Timothy, how long is the timer?” Alfred asked.

“Yeah, Tim, my eyes are drying out,” said Stephanie.

“Tim, Val doesn’t have a long attention span yet,” Vivian said through her smile.

“It’s just ten seconds,” said Tim.

“You sure?” Dick asked.

“Yes!”

Click!

The photo was taken and it had Tim yelling out startling everyone, and Valerie laughing at him.

#batman #batman x reader #dc fanfic #fanfic #bruce wayne #batman fanfiction #dc universe #dc batman #batfam #batfam x batsis #batsis oc #batmom #bruce wayne x reader #batfamily

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animepopheart · 3 months ago

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Look what I dug up!

I used to be obsessed with Newtype USA, though I rarely bought the magazines because of the cost. At $9.95, they would be a steal nowadays.

This issue had Fooly Cooly postcards! The coolest character designs but I could never make it through the OVAs—a little too manic for me. :/

The cover story: .Hack stuff! Another series I never finished (.hack//Sign—I don't think I've watched or played anything else). The OP, art design, and whole "trapped-in-a-game" story (before SAO) were cool, though!

L: I'm pretty good with recognizing anime but this one is not in my memory bank at all. Anyone watch this series? Was it good?

R: Oh boy, look at all the dead companies here: Central Park Media, Suncoast, Fry's, and—my prediction—Best Buy eventually, too. That Ebert quote got a TON of play back in the day, too. I'm pretty sure I used it in more than one article.

More FLCL. Any fans out there?

And yet ANOTHER show I never finished. The colors and designs in Witch Hunter Robin were A+, but I got bored and dropped the series around maybe episode 15...

If y'all like these, I'll post some more photos another time. I only made it about 10% of the way through this Newtype USA issue!

#newtype #2000s #witch hunter robin #flcl #.hack//sign

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 months ago

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Musician Age Gap AU Pt 18

The next afternoon Kara waits anxiously alongside Esme at the front window, searching for the standard SUV that Lena typically uses. To her surprise, the vehicle that eventually turns into the driveway isn't an Escalade, but rather a small sedan with only one occupant.

Kara watches the driver's silhouette lift her hood up and adjust her sunglasses, before Lena steps out. Unaware of being watched, Kara spots a flash of apprehension wash over the woman's features, but she reaches into the back for her overnight bag nonetheless.

Motioning for Esme to stay put, Kara crosses to the front door and swings it open. Lena's features brighten under her sunglasses, sending a shiver of desire down her spine. She can't remember if any of her prior partners had ever been so outwardly glad to see her. Kara decides she likes being the thing to make someone's day better.

"Hey," Lena greets softly as soon as she's in range.

"Hey," Kara returns. She stands aside so Lena can step inside. They don't embrace, let alone kiss, so once the door is closed they stand in a sort of awkward, delighted, tentative silence.

"Hi," Esme chirps, nervous herself for an entirely different reason. When Kara had emerged from the guest room following her call with Lena the day before, Esme had been ready to disavow her idol completely-- but her relief in finding out Lena remains in Kara's good standing had been palpable.

Halfway through removing her sunglasses, Lena freezes for half a heartbeat. Then her eyes zip to Esme, and Lena's face splits into a huge smile. Kara wonders if Esme can tell that this smile is different from the ones she'd gotten after the concert. Oh, Lena had been just as genuine then, but this time... this time Lena's smile is deeper, warmer.

"Hi Esme," Lena returns brightly. "How are you?"

"Great! I mean--" Esme rocks back on her heels, doing her best to temper her eagerness. "Fine."

Lena's gaze flicks bemusedly to Kara, who meets it with a knowing smile. Green eyes return to Esme, her smiling taking on a shy look. "Can I have a hug?"

Esme's face explodes into glee. "Yes!"

She bounds to Lena and throws her arms around her as Lena laughs and hugs just as tight.

"Thank you for letting me stay the night," Lena tells her.

"Are you kidding?? This is so cool! My friends would die if they knew--!" Esme halts her chatter, stricken. "They don't! I swear, I haven't told *anyone*."

Kara, Alex, and Kelly had stressed the importance of discretion for the next few days, and Esme had quickly gotten on board. As teenaged as she is, with all the frivolity that entails, Esme is sensitive enough to know that being loose with Lena's plans would hurt Kara, and ultimately hurt her whole family.

"I know," Lena assures her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Esme squeaks.

"Hey," Lena says, "do you like that new witch show? The one with--"

"The one with Samantha Arias?" Esme gasps. "Yes!! Omg I love it!!"

"It airs tonight, right? I rarely get to watch it live, so if you don't mind the company...?"

"You watch it too?!? Yes, yes, yes! Oh my god... we can make popcorn, and drink cider, and you can use my skull mug--"

Eyes flying wide, Esme detaches from Lena with a jerk. "I think we ran out last week! Hold on, I gotta go check--" She dashes towards the kitchen, where Alex and Kelly were graciously giving them space.

"Mom!! Do we have cider?! Lena wants to use my skull!"

Lena watches Esme go, and when she turns back to Kara her lips are pressed tight against the laughter about to bubble out.

"She's been really excited to see you again," Kara says quietly. She sidles over, hands in her pockets. "I think the photos hit her harder than they did me."

Lena's cheeks flush. "Kara, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve... any of that. If I'd known they'd be released I would have told you from the start."

Kara nods. "I know. And thank you." She pauses. "How are you doing? I'm not the one who was actually in the photos this time."

A huff of frustration answers her. But Lena simply shrugs. "It comes with the territory. Still sucks though."

"I'm sorry."

"The worst part is that I can't even really do anything about it," Lena continues softly. "No bridge is ever truly burned in this industry, so... I don't know."

Kara takes her by the hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Well, you don't have to think about it today, or tomorrow."

Lena smiles, chasing the shadows from her features. "Very true."

"You ready to meet the rest of my family?"

"You bet." Lena's confidence lasts for a millisecond, before it wanes to a grimace. "But in all honesty... how much does your sister hate me?"

Kara snorts. "She doesn't *hate* you..."

"But she doesn't like me."

"She hasn't even met you," Kara reminds her, but relents a moment later. "But let's just say she's more Team Kara than Team Luvers"

Lena blinks. "Team Luvers?"

"Our portmanteau, according to Esme. Popped up after the photos did... Though I'm not sure who the other team is supposed to be."

"Oh my god--" Lena says, covering her mouth even as she smiles. "I had no idea--"

Kara believes her. With the tour schedule the way it is, and how quickly Lena had flown out after last nights show, she likely wouldn't have had time to check the comments, if she'd even had a mind to read them.

"Well, if Esme says it's true, it's gotta be. She's got her finger on the pulse of your fanbase, let me tell you."

She moves to pull Lena towards the kitchen, but pauses when Lena resists.

"I'm glad," Lena says softly. "That your sister is Team Kara. That you have your family as a support system."

Kara flushes, warmed by the sentiment. "Not so different from you, huh. What with your mom--"

Lena steps forward, pressing one finger to Kara's lips. Kara is too enthralled by Lena's closeness to mind the unexpected shush.

"Your family and my mother are not the same." Lena's finger lifts, only to be replaced by a soft kiss. "And be glad for that."

Then Lena steps away, and Kara teeters for a moment before regaining her balance and her senses.

"Right," she coughs. "Got it. So-- time to meet the in laws?"

Lena chuckles. "Let the gauntlet begin."

#supercorp #musician age gap au #meeting the family!

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sheepheadfred · 2 months ago

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Ectoberhaunt Day 16: Bloom

Summary: Jack and Maddie Fenton have been growing a special flower in secret for months, finally its buds are ready to bloom! But why is Danny becoming more avoidant than usual?

Ao3 link

At long last!

This rare flower, thought to be extinct, is finally blooming after all their hard work gardening. Well, mainly her hard work. Maddie took care of the more delicate and meticulous side of things. Jack tries but they both know he's not good at that sort of stuff. She can be hyper focused on the minute details but Jack gets bored easily if its not something he can freely do and has little patience for botany despite his best efforts.

A flower long thought to be gone for good grown right here in the lab. Sure they had to make a special enclosure for it but they didn't want ghosts or the kids with their rebellious, 'pro ghosts' phase, to mess with it before it could be ready to flower.

Heck, they were unaware it existed until one day when they were going through old Fenton Family Photos- the way Jack says it implies it is all capitalized- where they found notes by a witch hunting ancestors buried at the bottom mentioning how they were used to trap spirits and keep them from helping their witch masters.

It is said they are a great danger to the supernatural but completely safe, even delicious, for human consumption.

If enough bloom, they can use it in more anti ghost defenses if the stories prove true. Might even make a new weapon to capture a specimen if they get that far. The possibilities are endless!

While the kids were at school, they put it to the test. All throughout the house the blossomed flowers were arranged in every room. Red blooms decorate the walls and windowsills and other various surfaces connected by their black stems twisting around each other. Unassuming to those not in the know. Just a beautiful decoration to most.

And who else would even know about them? Not many for sure.

No ghost can leave the zone from their portal when the house has these flowers! If they come, they'll be trapped in the lab!

She's making a snack for her and Jack for the taste test, too!

Well, that and that she has been at this all day and does need a snack. You can't study and fight ghosts on an empty stomach after all!

Jack is in the basement lab working on a new weapon incorporating these plants.

The kids will never be safer here at home!

There haven't been any ghost attacks all day.

None of the ghost alerts they had set up around town have acted up. Sure, those only register ghosts above a certain threshold to compensate for the ectoplasmic background radiation the town is soaked in and that no good Phantom can seemingly hide in plain sight, but this has to mean it works on some level!

Anything coming through their portal will be trapped in the lab even when they're not home!

Oh, this is fantastic!

The kids will be happy that those spooks wont get in the way anymore. They should be, anyway. She can never really read them anymore, especially Danny. A shame, they used to be so close, too.

Speaking of the kids, it's about time for them to come home about now. Or it used to be before they both got so busy. Well, Jazz at least tries to be around them and return her bags before going back out or locking herself in her room to study.

Danny, though, keeps skipping school and ignoring curfew. When he doesn't skip, he has detention! That boy and his poor priorities. Why can't he be more like his sister? At least this way he will have more time to devote to his studies for once with his school getting attacked less!

"Mom! I'm home!" her eldest announces once she walks into the door. Dutiful and making sure they know shes home. What a good daughter!

Maddie, who was working on the Fenton Finder again, as its glitches keep detecting Danny, makes her way out of the kitchen to greet her oldest child.

"Hey, sweetie! How was school today? It's quite late, did you get some studying done or was it tutoring?" She couldn't help but gush.

Maddie is sure Jack would be asking the same, albeit with more arm pulling and back breaking hugs. She loves that man but he really doesn't know his own strength most of the time. Or keep it in check. There is a time and a place for it, after all.

"Things went fine, mom. What's with all the flowers, though? Didn't take you one for home decor."

There she goes, always questioning stuff. Such a strong, scientific mind.

Not that Danny doesn't but he tends to not want to use it. From what she has simply observed and all.

If something was truly wrong, then he would tell them. Right?

"Oh, just trying something new. Do you like it?"

"Um, yeah. I guess? But, why so many? And... you put these in every room?"

"Can never have too many flowers! These are a rare breed after all. They have special cleansing properties to ward off ghosts!" Maddie is excited to share this good news! They don't have to worry about one of those nasty ghosties waking them up anymore!, "And don't you worry about your rooms! Jack and I still remember your lectures on 'privacy' and 'personal space'. I just left a vase full in both yours and your brother's room, nothing too obstructive, on your windowsills."

"Uh huh. How did you find out about these flowers? What are they called, anyway?"

"Blood blossoms! We found an old journal from one of Jack's ancestors, Jack Fenton-Nightingale that held fascinating records we couldn't wait to see if they worked. I'm so glad you asked! You're welcome to join us if you want, sweetie."

Jazz looked more unnerved than enthused, but she's always busy with her own passions rather than wanting to focus on theirs, much to their chagrin.

"That's great, mom!," Jazz's enthusiasm sounds strained, "I'll let Danny know about the new floral arrangements before he gets home. I need to go study, they gave us a lot of homework today and I spent all afternoon torturing. Call me when it's time for dinner." And she is rushing out, clearly done with this conversation.

For some reason, it stings Maddie's heart at how flighty and avoidant her kids are. She knows they are at that age but it hurts her to feel them drifting.

"Wait," Maddie stops her daughter before she could leave, "before you hole yourself up. Where is Danny? Do you know? He usually tells you nowadays. I just... really do hope this helps him."

"He's with his friends like usual, mom. They have a project coming up and he might be staying over with them tonight. How do you think these flowers will help him?"

Jazz is fishing for information but Maddie can't bring herself to care. She desperately needs to share this worry with someone else. She has Jack, but sometimes he doesn't get it in a way that she needs and her social circle is depressingly small. A sacrifice she was willing to make for her studies and passion even if it's lonely.

"Your brother," Maddie begins, hoping the explanation will be able to let her oldest know her worries for her baby boy, "is always so frightened and runs away whenever ghosts attack. He can't even handle a conversation about them. I'm hoping that these ghost warding flowers will give him some peace of mind. Make it easier to sleep and study and catch up on school stuff. Where his priorities need to be if he wants to do well for himself. I know he has done well when given the chance. A mother worries, after all."

Jazz gave her a thoughtful, pensive look, like shes warring with herself, before settling on a sad, small smile.

"I get it. I'll make sure to let him know about the Blood Blossoms so he won't be caught off guard at the sudden change."

"Thank you for understanding, dear."

"Who knows, maybe Sam might think it's cool. She does have an interest in nature and preserving rare species."

It's obvious that she's trying to change the subject delicately and Maddie appreciates her thoughtfulness and more than willing to change it herself.

"That is a wonderful idea! I will have to bring that up next time I see her."

Maddie's joy at such a suggestion made her almost miss her daughters face fall, when she thought her mom wasn't looking. Such a sad, fragile smile as she made her way to her room.

I can feel the gap between us widening, but I'm unsure why or how to fix it.

It's been days and Danny still hasn't come home, not even to say 'Hi.'. Always at a friend's place for one reason or another. Maddie has grown increasingly worried. Sure, sometimes he skips curfew and sometimes he's not in his room at night, but outright avoidance is unlike him!

And she knows he didn't just up and leave. He still goes to school and is seen around town. Just never comes around here anymore.

What did they do to make him outright shun them? Shun her?

It wasn't until he did finally come home and stay the night that she saw something.

He's always been a bit withdrawn, more so since the portal activated, but this was a whole new level.

He was pale and shaking for at least an hour of him being home and out of his room. He avoided any food with the black stemmed rose-like buds, claiming to not be hungry when he hasn't left his room all day. He just smiled shakily that night, pretending nothing was wrong and claiming to just be tired. But his head drooped when he thought Jack and Maddie weren't looking. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced and he seemed to get worse the longer the night dragged.

Danny seemed nervous and on edge like something would come out to attack him. Which is silly, with our new defenses no ghost has left through our portal since they made these changes.

But, for some reason, he's more hesitant and distant from us. Like he expects us to hurt him.

Ridiculous.

I miss my baby boy. We used to be so close. I thought this would help him but it seems to have driven him further from me. I don't know what I did wrong.

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt #ectoberhaunt24 #day 16 #eh past #bloom #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #danny fenton #fanfic #my fic #my art

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theradicalscrivener · 2 months ago

Text

The Book of Morgan: Arbiter of Thicc

Just in time for Spoopy Month, I bring you a new character and a new series. I have at least 1 more fic in this series to share this month, and maybe another depending on time. Each of these stories focuses around a theme I haven't experimented with as much in the past. It's a bit of an excuse to have a little bit of fun with the unusual.

Ian and Sean can't seem to agree on what "thicc" is. Maybe it's time someone helped put their debate to rest...

[Next Chapter]

“Ok. Ok. Check this dude out. Now this is thicc!” Ian said. He leaned across the cafeteria table and held out his phone so his friends could look.

Sean didn’t even need to look to know what Ian’s type was, but he humored his friend anyway. Sure enough, the dude in the pic was dangerously close to malnourished.

“Cindy, this is bones,” Sean said flatly.

“What!? No way! Check out that vicious V!” Ian protested.

“That’s not a V! Those are his hips bones!” Sean countered.

Morgan chuckled at the two’s antics, but didn’t chime in to the conversation. The two guys barely even noticed he was there most of the time, but then again, they didn’t notice most things…

“Why ya gotta be so down on my dudes!” Ian whined.

“I don’t mind your dudes. I just wish you’d stop trying to pretend they have any meat on their bones!” Sean protested.

“And you’re the arbiter of all things thicc,” Ian said sarcastically. He even dramatically rolled his eyes for extra emphasis.

“More than you, anyway! You wouldn’t know thicc if it slapped you in the ass!” Sean countered.

“Huh…” Morgan said to himself. Their banter gave him a fun idea…

“What!?” the two embattled bros said in unison. Their eyes now focused intently on their quiet friend.

“Oh. It’s nothing. I just had an interesting thought… but I think it’s best I leave you to your fun,” Morgan replied.

With that, Morgan got up from his seat and strode towards the exit. Sean and Ian could only sit there and watch him leave with a mix of confusion and amusement. Morgan tended to be a bit cryptic. He would enter and leave a conversation whenever he wanted, but he was definitely the kind of guy that Sean and Ian loved to watch leave. Morgan was almost as skinny as the guys Ian was ogling in his photos, but Morgan had some curves to him, and his cute bubbly butt was framed nicely by his tight little shorts. As he strode off towards parts unknown, the two guys sat back and marveled at Morgan’s cute backside.

“I don’t know what you said, but you are so getting hexed,” Ian joked.

“Oh, please. He’s not actually a witch. That’s just a silly rumor,” Sean replied.

“Well, he certainly doesn’t try to beat the allegations,” Ian said. He pantomimed touching a wide brim of a hat in refence to the conical hat that Morgan typically wore.

“He’s committed to the bit,” Sean replied with a shrug.

Morgan was a bit of an odd one. He was quiet but friendly. Sean and Ian couldn’t even recall how they had first met the guy. Morgan had just started hanging around them. He was like a stray cat that decided to adopt a pair of humans, and on the subject of cats, there seemed to be a small army of feral felines that followed Morgan around. He always seemed to have a cat either on his lap or at his heels, and it was rarely the same one. The critters just seemed to gravitate towards him which didn’t help him beat the witch allegations.

There was a moment of silence as the two friends tried to get their minds back on track. Morgan’s abrupt exit had derailed their debate, but now that the heat had dissipated, neither one was particularly interested in picking up where they left off. Eventually, Ian broke the silence.

“Fuuuuck… I don’t want to go to class,” Ian grumbled.

“Then don’t,” Sean said dismissively.

“You know I can’t do that! I’ve missed so many that if I miss any more, I’m gonna get docked a letter grade!” Ian protested.

“Sucks to suck,” Sean replied. He scooped the few bits of trash onto his tray and got up to throw his stuff away.

“I’ll show show you sucking!” Ian countered a bit louder than he meant to. His outburst got a few people from nearby tables to glance their way. Ian hunched down in his seat and made himself as small as possible to try and avoid their gazes. Fortunately, most people didn’t care enough about his outburst to focus on him. Their attentions quickly went back to their own conversations.

As Ian sat there in silence, he glanced over at his friend who was now walking across the cafeteria. Something looked off, but Ian couldn’t put his finger on it. Sean looked about the same as he always did. He wore a basic t-shirt and some shorts, but his shorts seemed to grip his thighs more than Ian expected. It must be a new pair or something. Either that, or Ian had never bothered to look as closely before. Whatever the case, it was a good look on him. Sean’s shorts now gripped his thighs making Sean’s typically average build look a bit curvier than Ian was used to.

Sean dumped his trash in the can and then glanced back at his friend who was still sitting at the table. “You gonna come to class, or are you just gonna sit there staring at my ass?” Sean teased.

“I wasn’t looking at your ass!” Ian protested. Once again, his outburst was louder than intended causing a few nearby parties to glance his way. Once more, Ian hunched down and tried to hide from their gazes.

Once the peanut gallery had once more lost interest, Ian scooped up his trash and got up to follow Sean, but as he did so, he realized something strange – his shorts felt tight.

Ian scratched his head. He wore these often, didn’t he? If anything, these were typically loose on him. The soft fabric was designed to stretch, but he had never needed them to. Today, however, they seemed to grip his ass and thighs. They even seemed to accentuate the bulge of his cock and balls making those seem bigger than he recalled.

Ian dumped his trash and hurried after his friend. By this point, Sean had a commanding lead on him. Ian jogged to catch up, and as he did so, he was keenly aware of the jiggling in his pants. His cheeks seemed to bob with each step, and his heavy bait and tackle swayed with each step.

Ian’s body felt weird, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It felt heavier somehow… He didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, though. A familiar chime rang out through the courtyard. That was the bell! He only had five minutes to jog across campus! How much time had he wasted during lunch!

Sean perked up upon hearing the chime and looked back over his shoulder. Ian had almost caught up to him… almost.

“Race you to class!” Sean called back over his shoulder.

“You-! Fucker!” Ian sputtered as he watched his pal break into a sprint. Sean had a head start! There’s no way that was fair!

Ian followed suit and broke into a sprint as well. His eyes were transfixed on his friend as he struggled to gain ground, but even as Ian forced himself to run, his eyes kept drifting towards Sean’s lower body. Sean’s ass wiggled with each step. Had his butt always been so big? So round? So supple? Ian couldn’t recall, but as his eyes lingered on his buddy’s jiggling caboose, his own cock began to stir to life in his over-stuffed shorts.

“Shit… I can’t pop wood here…” Ian muttered under his breath. He glanced down at himself and checked out his bulge. His semi was painfully obvious. His huge, chubbed up cock was almost as thick as his wrist and his two massive, plum-sized stones were looking positively obscene in his shorts. His shorts were stretched so taut that they were basically a second skin. The outline of his huge cock and fat nuts were so clear that he may as well not be wearing anything at all!

Ian felt a little light-headed for a second. Since when was he that hung!? Like, he had a solid foot of fat cock when fully hard. He knew this, and yet, it didn’t seem true! It hadn’t been that big this morning… had it? But it had always been that huge.

Ian could hear his shorts begin to strain. The stitching around his thick thighs were stretched to their breaking point. Why did he think these shorts would be a good idea! Sure, they accentuated his figure, but they were too small! His friends always teased him about his fat ass and huge cock. He should be wearing something more modest, not drawing more attention to it! It’s almost like he wanted to cause a scene!

Ian shook the notion from his mind and focused his energy on catching up to Sean. During his moment of introspection, Sean had managed to gain even more ground. Ian was already sprinting, but he needed to push himself even harder to catch up. He needed to full on haul ass! And he had A Lot of ass to haul! He could feel his cheeks jiggling with each step.

Ian was gasping for breath as he rounded the corner and made his way up the stairs towards the building that his class was in. His muscles ached, but he refused to show it. He needed to keep pushing. Even though sweat was pouring down his body which just made his clothes feel even tighter on his frame.

The stairs leading to the building was the easy part. There were even more stairs once he got inside! He had to get to the third floor, and he just knew he didn’t have time to take the elevator. It didn’t help that Sean still had a commanding lead.

Ian couldn’t help it. His gaze kept drifting towards Sean’s body. Sean looked so hot. How had he never noticed it before? Sean was definitely his type. A cute, slender build with an impressively fat ass. His lower half looked almost twice as wide as his torso! Sean’s shorts weren’t doing him any favors though… if only he would just hurry up and lose them… the stitches on Sean’s shorts were struggling even harder than Ian’s own. Ian’s shorts were soft and stretchy. They were designed to not only house but to flaunt his curves! Sean’s shorts were stiff khaki. The oversized pockets detracted from the shape of his curvy thighs!

Still… that was a debate for another day. Ian had almost caught up to his pal. The two of them staggered up the last set of stairs and stumbled before hunching over to catch their breath.

“I… totally beat you…” Sean gasped between breaths.

“You… cheated…” Ian countered.

The two spent a moment to catch their breath. They had made it across campus so fast that they went from being in danger of being late to having a few minutes to spare! They needed it, though. They were both winded and soaked with sweat.

“I’m drenched…” Sean grumbled.

“This was your idea…” Ian replied.

They took another beat to catch their breath a bit more before their bitching resumed.

“This shirt is going to feel gross for the entire class,” Ian grumbled.

“Then take it off,” Sean replied.

“Wh- …” Ian began. What? Why? The questions swirled in his head. There wouldn’t be any problem with taking off their shirts. Even bare, their upper bodies were far less lewd than their lower halves. Their shorts did not leave anything to the imagination. They both had huge, shapely assed and thick thighs, but their hips and booties were just the tip of the iceberg. Their cocks and balls were massive!

Ian’s shorts strained across his huge cock and balls. Each of his orbs were now closing in on the size of soccer balls. His cock was as thick as his neck. When not contained in his shorts, the beast dangled down to his shins. His cock and balls were so huge and so heavy that they weighed down his shorts to the point that the waistband now rode low on his hips leaving half his ass and the base of his fat cock exposed for all to see, and Sean was in an even worse state.

Sean’s shorts had burst down the sides during their sprint. It was only thanks to his belt that they stayed on at all. His shorts now looked like a khaki-colored loin cloth. His huge, thick cock now lolled out his left pant leg, and his heavy nuts hung out the other.

“Fuck it. These hurt too much,” Sean grumbled. He quickly undid his belt and ripped the tattered remnants of his shorts from his body leaving him bare-assed naked from ankles to navel.

Ian took a moment to soak in Sean’s mostly nude form. His thick, shapely thighs highlighted his fat cock and enormous nuts. Either enormous orb was almost as huge as one of his big, bubbly butt cheeks. His sack was every bit as large and as round as his peach of a posterior.

Sean chuckled upon seeing his friend’s expression. “Come on. It’s not like this is the first time you’re seeing it,” he teased as he pulled his shirt off, leaving him clad in nothing but his keds.

“Right… Yeah…” Ian murmured as he soaked in his friend’s nude form some more. Was Sean always this cute? Ian couldn’t recall. It felt new, but his memories were always of Sean looking this good. His lean, toned chest and flat tummy atop a set of wide hips and a huge ass with a monster dong to boot!

Ian awkwardly peeled his shirt off as he watched his pal stride nude into class. Ian grumbled under his breath. Why did he even bother wearing shorts? No one batted an eye when Sean strode around nude, and Ian was even bigger below the belt than Sean was! It sounded like arbitrary rules to him… Still, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hang brain just yet…

The stitching on the thighs of Ian’s shorts popped even further. There were now large swathes of skin showing on the sides of his legs where the two halves of his shorts had pulled apart. It was a miracle that it held together at all! And yet, it didn’t seem long for this world.

“About time. We were waiting for you,” the professor said as Ian stepped into class. He didn’t seem to mind that indecent state that Ian was in. If anything, he was a little annoyed that Ian had stood in the doorway for so long before coming in.

The professor nodded towards one of the students and gestured for them to come forward. “Sean. Up here” he said.

Ian began to make his way towards his seat, but before he could make it more than two steps the professor gestured for him to stay. “You stay up here, too,” the professor said.

Ian balked. He gave the professor an incredulous look, but didn’t feel like arguing. He followed instructions and took his position beside Sean at the front of the class.

Ian suddenly felt very exposed. His clothes were hanging on by literal threads. His colossal cock and balls were starting to spill out of his shorts. His dick was so massive that only the head of it was still in the shorts. The rest of it snaked out above his waistband and folded back in on itself like a shrink-wrapped pack of kielbasa.

As Ian stood there and stared out among his classmates, he caught sight of one figure in the back row that made him do a double take. Morgan looked up from his large, leather-bound tome and gave a playful wave. Was he always in this class with them? Ian couldn’t recall, but he felt like he shouldn’t be surprised to see Morgan there.

Morgan flashed a playful smirk and gave a quick flick of his wrist. Ian instantly felt a surge through his body. The waistband of his shorts finally gave up the ghost and his huge, fat cock and balls spilled forth. His nuts hit the ground with a heavy thud. It almost hurt! It was a good thing that his nuts were so huge, otherwise hitting the floor like that may have made his gut cramp up.

Ian felt light-headed. What was with that thought? Was he surprised that his balls were so big? They had been this large for ages. His cock, which now draped over his nuts so far that this tip rested on the floor at his feet, was also something he had had to deal with for ages. His cock and ass were so massive, that he had given up clothes ages ago. Everyone just sort of accepted it as normal. Some part of him realized that that was bizarre, but no one in class even batted an eye.

“Ok, students. We have a special lecture today,” the professor began.

Ian glanced over his shoulder and noticed the name of the class. Human Biology 202 – H. When he had signed up, he had thought that the H at the end was silly. Human Biology – Human? How redundant. How had he gotten it wrong? He was one of the hypers that this class focused on!

“How did you talk me into this!” Ian hissed to his pal.

Sean shrugged and smirked. “You know how Carlos took Spanish for a free A? It’s the same thing,” he explained.

Ian was about to think up a retort, but before he could, the professor began his lecture. “Before us, stands two specimens of hypertrophia. An uncommon, but not unheard of medical condition. Many scientists have studied people like these to determine what it is that makes them susceptible to transformations such as this post-puberty,” the professor droned. Leave it up to an academic to make something like this sound boring.

Ian tried to search his memories. He couldn’t remember when he had gone through his growth spurt. He had been like this at least as long as he had been in college, but that was the best he could figure.

“I shouldn’t have to reintroduce your classmates this late in the semester, but just in case, let me do so now. To my left is Sean. You may notice that, while he is much smaller than our other subject, Ian, Sean’s penis is much too large for use in traditional intercourse,” the professor droned on.

There were some murmurs from the class. Ian could make out bits and pieces.

“I wish mine was that big…”

“How can he even use it…”

“Wouldn’t he pass out when it gets hard?”

After the murmurs died down, the professor spoke up again. “Fortunately, nature always finds a way,” he said and gestured towards Ian.

Sean’s cock was huge. It dangled down to his ankles, but it was maybe half the size of Ian’s own. Ian’s cock was almost as long as he was tall, and it wasn’t even hard… yet.

“As we have discussed in previous sections, men who experience these changes tend to have much wider hips than average. This adaptation is not just for show. In fact, they can stretch even wider to take handle insertions much wider than they are. Ian here has a penis that is much too large for use. Men like him are designated the “bottom” in colloquial terms,” the professor explained.

Ian balked at this. Was that true? It had to be. The professor was saying it, and Ian knew for a fact this lecture was all scientifically sound. Still, it sounded unreal that he could handle a cock as large as Sean’s… even if he wanted it, and he really, Really wanted it!

Ian’s massive cock stirred to life at the mere thought of getting reamed. His head felt fuzzy. His nuts felt heavy. His ass practically begged to be bred.

Ian snapped to attention as he felt a hand slap against his massive, jiggly ass cheek. He looked over to see Sean standing beside him with a lecherous grin on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll treat you right,” Sean teased.

“Very well. It looks like both participants are ready for today’s demonstration,” the professor said.

Ian had forgotten! How had he forgotten!? It was so rare to find a matched pair like them that the dean had approached them to do a demonstration! Sean was right. This was an easy A, but more than that. Ian had wanted to feel Sean’s cock inside him for ages, and this was the perfect excuse.

Sean sidled up behind Ian and pressed his huge, fat cockhead against Ian’s quivering hole. As the huge rod slid into him, Ian stared down in awe at his own gut as it bulged outwards. Ian rubbed his hands across his bulging belly. It was hard to believe that his friend’s cock was so deep into him, and yet, his body had adjusted to accept it. This didn’t seem possible, but it felt right! Ian was so turned on that he nearly came right then and there, his massive, battering ram of a cock was rock hard in record time and shuddering in anticipation. Pre oozed from the tip of his dick, and with each expectant lurch, a spray of clear, viscous liquid was sent arcing through the air.

Ian watched as the bulge receded. There was a split second where he felt empty inside, but before he could protest, Sean’s thick cock rammed back into him. This time, Sean thrusted deeper, causing his thick thighs to slap against Ian’s huge, pillowy but cheeks and his huge, heavy nuts to slap against Ian’s calves.

Sean thrusted again and again. Each thrust resulted in a reverberate slap as his thighs slapped against Ian’s jiggling butt cheeks. Ian had to brace himself atop his own nuts to keep from falling over.

Had his nuts always been so huge? He couldn’t remember, but he was glad that they were. It seemed right. They served to give him something to brace against as Sean jackhammered his ass with his own huge cock.

Ian literally had a body built for taking cock. Not only could his gut and hole stretch to take something as huge as Sean’s impressive piece, but it felt fantastic to boot! It was as if every inch of him, body and soul, existed for the soul purpose of being bred.

Ian couldn’t focus. His doubts and his questions faded. His eyes rolled back, and he surrendered himself to bliss. He moaned in ecstasy as his gut bulged out with each thrust of his friend’s huge cock. Ian’s own massive meat bucked and lurched in time with Sean’s thrusts, further spraying the room with pre.

Ian’s gut began to swell. At first, he thought it was just Sean plunging his cock in, but it quickly became apparent that something else was at play. His gut didn’t fully deflate as Sean pulled back. If anything, Ian’s tummy seemed to be filling with fluid.

Had Sean cum!? No. Clearly not. Had he done so, there would be so much more. This had to just be pre!

Ian hugged his swelling belly. It felt so warm and so firm, like a water balloon full of hot milk. He wanted more. He needed more. Without even meaning to, Ian cried out, “More!”

Sean smirked and chuckled. He redoubled his effort, he continued to pound his friend’s incredibly huge ass with his own prodigious rod. With each thrust, more pre flooded into Ian’s gut, but soon Sean was reaching his limit.

“I’m gonna…” Sean moaned.

“Don’t stop!” Ian cried.

“I wasn’t… gonna…” Sean moaned between thrusts.

Sean dug his heals in and rammed his cock in deep for one last plunge. He let out of a cry of bliss which was echoed by Ian as the two came in unison. Massive, thick, spurts of cum arced from Ian’s enormous cock. The spray hit the windows on the far side of the room and splattered down on the audience, coating the onlookers with spunk… all except for one, anyway.

As the duo continued to cum and cum again, Ian’s gut grew bigger and bigger. Soon, his belly was the size of a yoga ball, and still it kept growing. Soon, his gut was even larger than his massive set of stones that he was currently propped up on! His belly was soon so large that Ian could no longer wrap his arms around it. He could no longer hug it. All he could do was lie face down atop it and nuzzle his face into the swelling mass. It felt so good! Why did it feel so good? How did it feel so good!? This shouldn’t be physically possible, and yet…

Sean let out a sigh and staggered backwards. His steadily deflating rod pulled out of Ian’s stretched out ass with an audible plop. Jizz seeped out of Ian’s wrecked hole, and yet, despite the leakage, Ian’s gut didn’t seem to be deflating.

“You better not of gotten me pregnant…” Ian murmured playfully.

It was meant to be a joke, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth, than he felt a strange feeling in his head. Was it possible? He didn’t know anymore, but he was in no position to ask. Fortunately, Sean was.

“Is that possible?” Sean asked the professor, but the professor couldn’t answer.

As Ian lay atop his own massive nuts and swollen gut, his gaze fell upon Morgan. The guy didn’t have a drop of jizz on him despite being in the back of the room where the majority of the splash had rained down. As Ian locked eyes with Morgan, he heard Sean ask the question once more.

“Is it possible?” Sean asked.

Morgan shrugged and gave an iffy hand wiggle.

There was a voice in the back of Ian’s mind. Was it Morgan? It didn’t quite sound like him. It sounded more like that inner voice that Ian had. The voice he read books in. The voice that was his but not. Maybe Morgan had done something. Maybe Morgan had gotten the ball rolling, but everything since entering the classroom had been Ian’s own doing.

How was that possible? Had Ian changed reality? That shouldn’t be possible, but he also shouldn’t be able to take a cock the size of a punching bag, and yet here he was.

Ian couldn’t think that hard. He could barely focus on anything other than how good he felt. The afterglow was overpowering. He just wanted to lie there and bask in the blissful feelings in his gut and ass and cock and balls. As he hovered between consciousness and a blissed-out haze, he was vaguely aware of Morgan striding up to him.

Morgan tipped his hat back so that Ian could see the huge, playful grin on his face. “Wow. You’ve really got a knack for this. I never would have thought you’d have such a dirty mind,” he said before turning and making his way towards the exit. Morgan hugged his huge, heavy tome to his chest and hummed a happy tune as his boots splashed down in the standing pool of spunk with each skip.

[Next Chapter]

#hyper #hyper cock #cock growth #ass growth #hyper ass #hyper (search tag)#cock growth (search tag)#cumflation (search tag)

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rotworld · 1 month ago

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A Bird in the Hand

you've been "partnered" with the nightbound who betrayed you for weeks now and neither of you are happy with how things are going.

->virgilio/reader. explicit; contains hypnosis, blood drinking, mild gore, power imbalance, aphrodisiacs, food control, mentions of conditioning.

Every day, there’s a notebook open on the kitchen counter. You can’t miss it because it sits right next to an enormous breakfast feast, already made, plated and waiting by the time you drag yourself out in hungry desperation. Everything is artfully arranged like it came right out of an upscale restaurant’s kitchen from lightly sprinkled garnish to elegant, swirling sauce patterns. Even the fucking cereal looks like a mouthwatering food blog photo, a row of sliced fruit ringing one side of the bowl.

There’s a pen tucked into the notebook’s spiral binding. At the top of the page, a single question is scrawled in neat cursive: What is your favorite movie?

It’s late. The sun shields are open and you can see the city skyline glittering through the windows. The only light in the room comes from a lamp perched on the counter, the thick dome shade softening the light to sunset orange. You uncap the pen, watching clouds drift across the moon.

Fuck you, you write.

Some nights are spent at Cassowary Tattoo.

It’s that or stew in your own misery for long, silent hours, because you’re not allowed to leave the house on your own yet. You claim your spot in the waiting area, stretched out on the sofa by the front windows with a stack of books on the coffee table beside you. It’s so cozy it makes you suspicious, the comforting and non-confrontational vibe almost smothering—lots of plants and pottery on the wooden wall shelves and muted rugs to soften the hardwood floor, some slow-tempo jazz playing over the speakers. Was it already like this or did they do some hasty redecorating? It feels more like a coffee shop than a tattoo parlor.

Your name is called with slow reluctance. “Hey, uh…” It’s the guy working the desk—nightbound. You saw him sipping from a blood pouch earlier. He knows what you are, too. That’s why he watches you like a hawk. He looks young but that doesn’t mean anything. What does is how nervous he is around you, anxiously vigilant whenever you shift around to get comfortable or exhale just a little sharply. Not like he’s scared of you, but scared of potentially having to handle you, like he’s watching a priceless vase wobble precariously on its stand. A lot of fledglings are like that because the older nightbound teach them that witches are some kind of endangered species, rare and skittish, necessitating firm but gentle handling.

He’ll chase you if you try to run. He doesn’t want to. He’s afraid he might hurt you by accident and then Virgilio will be mad at him, and he would sooner chop off his own hand than risk one of his superiors, his elders, being mad at him.

“Yeah?” you say.

He flinches whether you soften your tone or not. “Are you, uh. Are you hungry? Sergeant—uh, Virgilio wants to know.”

“I’m fine.” You pretend to be interested in the books you brought along, propped up on your side with one of the musty tomes open in front of you. It’s all dry, boring shit, leatherbound antiques on loan from the Dusk Council’s extensive library. Nightbound biology, nightbound psychology, nightbound history—there’s a lot here that you don’t know despite how they’ve been breathing down your neck your whole life.

“Oh. Okay.” He fidgets nervously with his phone. “Well, uh. I think he ordered you something anyway.”

He did, of course, and it shows up just a few minutes later in the hands of a delivery driver. Virgilio appears at the same moment, pushing through the curtain dividing the shop. There’s no doorbell or chime or anything. Every nightbound in the shop can hear it when somebody parks on the street right outside, or when the front door opens with a wheezy creak. Virgilio exchanges pleasantries and leaves a nice tip. He places the takeout bag on the coffee table right next to your books and then he pulls up one of the armchairs. His hair’s up in a ponytail. He’s wearing a black tank top so his tattoo sleeves are on full display—a moon and clouds, raven wings, a skull hidden among full-bloom flowers and half-melted candles.

His smile makes your stomach twist up in angry, sickened knots. “Hey. Got you something.”

You don’t answer and you don’t meet his gaze. Undeterred, he pulls a container out of the bag and opens it for you, steam and a garlicky scent wafting out. It’s some kind of spinach dish, sauteed leafy greens topped with crunchy garnish.

“Smells pretty good,” he says, stirring it with a plastic fork. “Let me know if you like it and I’ll make it at home sometime. Just need some garlic and olive oil. Maybe a little amaretto if you want it fancy.” He slides the bowl across the table, closer to you. “Come on. You must be hungry. You barely touched breakfast.” You still don’t take it and his smile wanes, all that cheerful enthusiasm souring into weary resignation. “I don’t want to put you under but I will if I have to. It’s for your own good.”

“Stop saying that.” The threat of hypnosis makes you sit up, but you still don’t reach for the bowl. You don’t want it. You don’t want any of this. “‘For my own good?’ This is all for you, so you can feed as much as you want.”

“It’s for you,” Virgilio insists. “So you don’t end up anemic or worse.”

The wounded look on his face makes your blood boil, soft eyes and furrowed brows like he thought this would go any other way. He wants to talk? Fine. You can talk. “I wouldn’t need to worry about that if you fed from anyone or anything else sometimes. But I’m here, so you might as well take as much as you want, right? Why bother with a donor who actually likes getting fed on? Is that not as fun? You can’t get off if your blood bag is having a good time, too?”

Virgilio catches your chin between his fingers and jerks your gaze up to meet his eyes. He’s got your mind in a vice-grip before you can even blink and for a blissful moment, there are no thoughts in your head. No anger. No fear. Nothing. Just fuzzy warmth and gentle drifting. His eyes are glittering gold and you’re sinking, all the tension leaking out of your body, all your worries evaporating—and then he lets go, slowly, like a fist loosening. He maintains just enough control that you can’t muster the energy to yell at him or tear yourself away.

“Eat the fucking food,” he says, his voice low and ragged. You can only think clearly when he stops touching you, and even then, you find yourself picking up the bowl and spearing spinach on your fork. Virgilio leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you mutter between bites. “I didn’t choose to be what I am.”

Virgilio takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Yeah. Me, neither.”

Every three days, your breakfast comes with roseblood. Virgilio brews it himself on the stove and the delicate garden-fresh aroma fills the whole house by the time you wake up. He pours the first dose into a black mug with a golden bird silhouette stamped on the side, and then he drops in a few colorful crystals that gently fizzle, making little prismatic bubbles at the surface. That’s nectar, condensed and edible magic. The sweet scent makes your mouth water. He sprinkles a couple leftover rosebuds on top and slides the mug over to join the rest of the trays, plates and bowls he painstakingly prepared.

“Buon appetito,” he says with a grin. He usually makes himself scarce when you show up for food but today he’s decided to stick around. He stays on the other side of the counter, at least, a newspaper unfolded in front of him so he can pretend he isn’t watching you intently. You eat begrudgingly. Virgilio is such a talented chef that it makes you angry. His plating is immaculate and his dishes are perfect whether he’s baking, boiling or braising something—a sharp contrast to the single small plate at his elbow with nothing but a piece of toast smeared with marmalade.

You watch him. He watches you. Neither of you speak to each other and the only sounds are the clink of your silverware and the whisper of turning paper, the occasional muted crunch when Virgilio nibbles on his toast. The roseblood is delicious, sweet like honey. You catch him smiling when you hold up the mug, enjoying the soft floral scent and the warmth against your palms, but he quickly averts his eyes back down to the newspaper.

You think about those videos of animal shelters and people who sit with nervous dogs until they stop shaking. That’s how he sees this, you think. A selfless act. Doing you a favor. Coaxing you to him with food and gentle words, like he doesn’t already have the leash around your neck.

Today, the notebook asks, What do you like to do in your spare time?

Virgilio’s gaze is drawn by the scratch of the pen across the paper. You scribble quickly and furiously, then shove it aside. He doesn’t have to look to know you’ve written the same words you always do. He gathers up his newspaper and toast and finally gives you some privacy.

Some nights are spent in Dr. Griffiths’ office. The two of you look like a couple on the verge of divorce. Virgilio hunches like a man in a confessional booth and you’re scrunched up against the armrest of the big Victorian sofa, keeping one full cushion between the two of you. Your gaze travels across the room in careful avoidance of Virgilio, wandering from the bookshelves to the hanging paintings to the swinging pendulum of a grandfather clock. Candles flicker atop ornate brass stands. It smells like leather, parchment and incense.

“I just don’t know what else to do,” Virgilio says. “It’s not like I don’t get it. I do. But you have to understand that the second you became active…look, you weren’t leaving that dinner party without the rug getting pulled out from under you, okay? That’s just how it is. If I didn’t do it, someone else would’ve. And I know you hate me for it, you feel like I took advantage—”

“Let’s not assume,” Dr. Griffiths says gently. “It would benefit you both to ask each other how you feel, rather than jumping to conclusions. Even in situations where you’re certain you already know, is it not better to ask? To have the opportunity to voice those thoughts and feelings?” He’s nightbound, of course, because why would the Council send you to any other kind of therapist? His eyes glint like an animal’s and he has the uncanny, fluid grace of an elder. He dresses somewhat eccentrically for his profession, stylish and formal in a black blouse with translucent sleeves and fitted slacks, his high heels glossy like obsidian. He looks the way people expect nightbound to look, sickly pale and ghostly as though carved from marble.

Virgilio glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “They don’t talk to me if they can help it.”

Dr. Griffiths tilts his head, regarding you with a pensive frown. “You’re still not speaking to your partner?”

“No,” you mutter.

“Why not?”

“You can’t guess?”

He smiles and pushes away from the desk. You watch him warily as he comes to stand beside you, resting his palm on the armrest of the sofa. He looks down at you, tilting his head in that odd, bird-like motion the nightbound all share, like an owl tracking a scurrying mouse. “No assumptions, remember?” he asks.

“It’s really not that hard to figure out,” you insist. He hums, urging you to continue. You don’t look at Virgilio but you can feel the weight of his stare. “My life doesn’t belong to me. I’m like his pet or something.”

“That’s not true—” Virgilio starts to say. Dr. Griffiths cuts him off with a sharp glance.

“Go on,” he says patiently.

There’s a lump in your throat, the burning sensation of tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You swallow hard. “And my time, that’s not mine anymore. I’m basically nocturnal now because I have to be. Even if I get up early, I can’t see the sun because of the stupid shields on the windows. It’s so dark everywhere, all the time. And my bedroom isn’t mine, it’s just the guestroom in his house. Some of my stuff’s there but it doesn’t matter. He can come in whenever he wants.”

“I would never—”

“Virgilio,” Dr. Griffiths says, firm but gentle.

“And,” your voice cracks, “and the food, too. He picks that. And I know why, I know about roseblood and the risks and all that stuff, I know that. But it just reminds me that I don’t have anything anymore. I don’t even have myself. And…and…” Your words unravel into sobs. The sofa creaks under Virgilio’s shifting weight and you see him in your periphery looking sick with guilt.

His hand trespasses onto the cushion between you. You hear him come closer. You know what he’s going to do and it makes you feel even worse, but you don’t try to stop him from touching your shoulder and turning you towards him. You don’t fight the gentle pressure of his fingers on your chin. You don’t squeeze your eyes shut or try to look away. Your eyes meet and Virgilio’s calming presence fills your mind, quieting your sobs to sniffles and numbing the ache in your chest.

Everything is okay for a while. Everything is light and airy, soft and sweet. You’re freed from thought and fear and worry, left with nothing but peace. When you surface, it happens slowly. You feel an arm wrapped around you, a gentle hand stroking your head. You smell chewing gum on his breath. Virgilio holds you against his chest, idly stroking your back and pressing kisses to your tear-dampened cheeks.

Dr. Griffiths is back by his desk, frowning thoughtfully. “You have a problem with control, Virgilio,” he says. “Understandably, you crave it. You exert it however and whenever you can. Losing it makes you lash out and act impulsively. I would hope, then, that you might have some sympathy for someone who has none.”

Virgilio wraps around you like you’re the only thing keeping him from falling to pieces. He knows this will end badly once you get home; more tears, more distance, days of agonizing silence and refusing to meet his eye. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, you’re right.” He holds on tight while he still can.

There are indents in the notebook paper, like someone scribbled furiously on the page before it. You turn back and find line after line written and then hastily crossed out. A handful are still legible:

What is your favorite breakfast food? What is your favorite food? What foods do you like? What would you like me to make you? I will make you anything you want if you ask for it. I didn’t know it upset you so much. I thought maybe it upset you, but I didn’t know what to do. I’m trying to make the best of a difficult situation. I know it’s not fair. I’m not good at this. I can’t let you go but I will do anything else, just name it and I will do it. I’m going to put a better lock on your door. Do you want a better lock on your door? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m really sorry.

On the next page, Virgilio’s handwriting reverts to its usual neatness. It simply says, List some foods that you like.

Some nights are spent at home. Virgilio’s coworkers say he’s allergic to time off, which is news to you. It feels like he’s around more than he isn’t. Usually you stay in the guest room and only venture out for food but tonight, you reluctantly join him on the living room sectional. Virgilio is hunched over and doodling in a sketchbook, so shocked by your sudden appearance that you hear his pencil lead snap. You flick on the lamp and unceremoniously drop your entire stack of books on the coffee table, picking one from the pile at random to start with.

You peek over the edge of the book. Virgilio is frozen for a moment like he thinks the slightest twitch might scare you off. You don’t think he’s even breathing. He watches you carefully, assessing you with cold focus like he’s sizing up a threat. The intensity in his stare frightens you. You don’t know what gives you away—quickening pulse? Hitched breath? Some subtle scent? He blinks and his gaze softens. He sets his sketchbook down and turns to give you his full attention. His casual lean, the way he drapes his arm over the backrest, reminds you of the night you met.

“How about a truce?” he offers.

You stare at him suspiciously. “What kind of truce?”

“Less mesmerism.”

“How about no mesmerism?”

“Less,” he stresses with finality. The way your expression crumples with disappointment makes him sigh and rub the back of his neck. “What else do you want? Within reason.”

You almost scoff at that but Virgilio’s anxious stare makes you reconsider. He’s trying, at least. It’s the smallest of consolations, but he’s giving it to you. “Could you talk to me the way you used to?”

“The way I used to?”

“Like at the party. Before…” Before he ruined your life. Betrayed your trust. Claimed you in front of the whole Council. Your heart is in your throat. “Like before,” you say quietly.

The hoarseness of your voice makes him restless. He drums his fingers along the back of the couch and his gaze wanders. “I tried that,” he says. “When you first came here—”

“When I was brought here,” you correct him. He clenches his jaw. “I didn’t choose to come here. You know that.”

“The point is I tried that already. I acted like nothing was different. You still wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Because I was angry. I still am,” you tell him. “I know I didn’t have much of a choice. I know somebody else would’ve done it if you didn’t. But it hurt. I’m allowed to be hurt. You can’t just snap your fingers and make me forgive you—”

“I could,” Virgilio says. He turns towards the kitchen windows where the moon is just a curled sliver. “I could make you. Probably not in one session. I’d need to reinforce it a few times. But I could.” He says it so plainly. Soft and contemplative, like something he’s spent long nights turning over in his mind. “Hm. That sounds extra fucked up when I say it out loud.” You flinch when he gives you a sidelong glance. “I really am sorry. About the way I did it, anyway. If we’d been anywhere else, I would’ve taken you home and talked it over first. I would’ve made you comfortable first. Been gentler about the claiming mark.”

The reminder makes you pick at the turtleneck collar of your shirt. The scars on your neck are crescents of bumpy, gnarled tissue like the prints left by a vicious mauling. Virgilio follows the movement of your fingers intently, hoping you might peel the fabric down and show him the proof of his claim, but you won’t. You keep it covered as much as possible. The way he looks at it even through your clothing, the voyeuristic hunger in his eyes, unsettles you.

“And yeah,” he says wryly, “I know you would’ve agreed to it. I would’ve laid out your options, and you would’ve picked me. That’s not a brag. The bar is real low and I know that. I’m perfectly happy being the lesser evil.”

He’s lying. You can’t usually tell. Before he started covering everything up with cloying, overindulgent sweetness, he hid all of his feelings behind a veneer of deadpan sarcasm. But that last part, you’re certain, was a lie. He doesn’t look at you when he says it. His voice gets small and timid, almost ashamed. You set your book down on the table slowly and take a steadying breath.

“Do you want to feed on me?” you ask him.

Virgilio blinks a couple times, like he’s trying to wake himself up. “Are you fucking with me?”

You were really hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal out of this. “Remember what I said at the therapist’s? About how I’m basically your dog?”

He frowns. “You’re not—”

“Not looking to argue,” you cut him off tiredly. “Sometimes it feels like you’re trying to train me. Rewarding me for good behavior, punishing me for bad, all that stuff. Well, we’re trying to make things fair with a truce, right? So now I’m going to train you, too.” You lean back against the couch cushions and hook your fingers into the turtleneck, rolling down the collar until your throat is exposed. Virgilio’s pupils dilate. “If you’re good, you get extra.”

He drags his gaze up from your neck to your face and your heart races. You don’t see him like this very often. Virgilio is old enough to control his appetite, normally unfazed by the sight or scent of bare human skin. The temptation of your blood when he didn’t expect it seems to have caught him off guard. He looks at you like a starving wolf looks at a lone deer, how the same wolf looks at a mate in heat, lust and hunger a single entity. Virgilio prowls closer on all fours, crawling towards you on the couch. You both know he’s the one in control here. He can take what he wants, when he wants.

But he stops just short of you, one hand landing on the cushion beside your feet, and looks at you with that animalistic tilt of the head. “Have I been good?” he asks, his voice low and eager.

Heat rushes through your body. “Yes,” you say. “You’ve been very good.”

There’s something ritualistic about the way Virgilio feeds. You don’t know if all nightbound are like this or if it’s unique to him, but he goes slow. There’s foreplay before the bite. The approach is a dance, graceful and gradual. He caresses your leg as he shifts closer and he presses kisses everywhere, even over your clothes. To your ankle. To your knee. To your hip. They’re chaste but they linger and they feel reverential. He slides into place beside you and pulls you into his lap, hand wandering. He rubs your shoulders and strokes your sides. You see desire in his eyes but also sadness and solemn determination. This is about more than blood.

His fingers slip beneath the hem of your turtleneck but he doesn’t take it off right away. He feels you first, his palms sliding up and down your chest. It feels good—not just the stroke of his fingers against your hardening nipples but also the undivided attention, the focus on your body and your pleasure, the weight and wanting of his stare. To Virgilio, nothing exists but you right now, you and your warmth and your pulse thudding beneath his fingertips. His lips move hungrily against yours, coaxing you to tangle your tongue with his. He makes small sounds, contented sighs and soft moans.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he murmurs, nipping at your lower lip. Your heart flutters at the teasing prick of his fangs, his venom fizzling pleasantly on your skin. “I swear I will. Someday I’ll be worthy of this partnership.” He pulls your turtleneck off and buries his face against the side of your neck, inhaling deeply with a shudder. His hips move involuntarily, short, needy thrusts that grind his clothed, hardening cock against your ass. He presses his lips against your neck, teasing you. He knows exactly where you’re most sensitive. The marks from the last time he fed still haven’t faded. But he likes to feign ignorance, enjoying your quiet moans until he reaches the spot that really makes you squirm.

For all his protests about you not being a pet, he really does have you trained. You don’t flinch anymore when he prepares, stroking the back of his fangs with his tongue until his mouth is full of venom. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses leave tingling numbness in their wake. Testing nips make you shiver in pleasure rather than pain. You wrap your arms around him and hold on tight, not out of fear but in anticipation. Virgilio savors you, dragging his tongue over your pulse. His hand cradles the back of your head as you turn and bare your neck to him.

“Two and a half centuries in this shitty world,” he whispers, “and nothing has ever been as precious to me as you are.”

Virgilio’s bite is ecstasy. The moment his venom floods your veins, your toes curl, your back arches, and you cum. If he didn’t hold onto you so tightly and keep your head still, you would thrash and flail wildly. You know he feels just as good, maybe even better, because his hips buck like he’s fucking you, rolling, languid thrusts that lightly bounce you in his lap. You’re aware, dimly and distantly, that the bite is shallow. He’s keeping it light and controlled, sucking the blood that beads to the surface rather than widening the wound, and in a state of pure instinctual want, it infuriates you. You want more, deeper, harder, everything he has filling you. He keeps a firm, steady grip on the back of your head to make sure you don’t try and impale yourself on him further. You whine when his fangs retract and he laps at the punctures left behind.

“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs against your skin, trying to soothe you. The praise goes straight to your sex, heat and arousal making you move your hips against him. “Mm, yes, you are. So sweet and delicious.” His hand dips between your legs. He doesn’t undress you but he loosens the clothes on your lower half enough to get his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, and then he’s mercilessly working your sex with his fingers. “Cum one more time.” He’s growling, so deep in his own primal need that his voice is low and rumbling. He’s not asking. It’s an order, and it makes you whimper. “One more. Come on. Sweet thing, letting me have a taste of you. Let go for me.”

Already raw and right on the edge, you cum with a sob. Virgilio doesn’t let up, still mouthing at your neck and whispering filth. He coos about the mess you made on his fingers while your hips helplessly chase his hand. He doesn’t stop until you sag against him, worn out and oversensitive. The blistering pleasure phase has run its course but his venom will keep you in an extended post-orgasmic bliss for a while longer. He lays down and keeps you tucked against his chest, gently rubbing your back.

It’s nice, you think deliriously. Every feeding is nice, but usually you shake him off and demand to be left alone once it’s over. It was a mistake to stay. Now that you know what it feels like to be in his arms, you’re not sure you’ll be able to leave.

“You can take a nap, if you want. I’m not going anywhere,” he says softly. Warmly. He sounds happy, you think. Because you fed him without prompting? Because he’s in control again? You don't know if tonight was a step forward or back, but you aren’t going to worry about it right now. Not when the lights are low and Virgilio’s touch is so tender, and everything almost feels alright.

The next night, you're up and moving a little earlier than usual. Viriglio is still cooking. You sit at the counter to watch. He looks back over his shoulder at you briefly, almost shyly, like he doesn't want to scare you into leaving. He nods in greeting. You nod back. He looks a little disappointed but he smiles anyway and returns his attention to the stove.

You tell him your favorite movie.

#rotpeach writes #meanvamps #meant to have a setting intro piece ready first but this possessed me so it skipped the line #garrett and his unfortunate reader are conspicuously absent without explanation here #virgilio probably left them with someone else for a little while because he cant handle them and this reader at the same time lmao

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witchybimbocow · 18 days ago

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Let me bleed for you

#about the witch #rare photos of the witch #i feel like sharing #tw knife #cnc knife play #also this photo is old #i have a tattoo there now

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samcrosfaith · 3 months ago

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WITCHCRAFT 🔮

Jax Teller x random fem!oc because I suck at writing character x reader.

warning ⚠️; 18+, a little bit of smut towards the end, paranormal stuff like witchcraft and blood.

a/n; please feel free to leave requests in my ask box for Halloween and Christmas One Shots. Happy and Jax only please because I'm not good at writing the other characters lol. If you have a specific wish/look/backstory for your OC, please let me know— otherwise I'll come up with something. 🦇🎃🕸️

If you want to get tagged in future Halloween and Christmas One Shots just let me know in the comments and I'll add you to the tag list! 🤎🍂

this was requested by one of my lovely Wattpad followers!

tag list; @ravennaortiz

word count; about 2.5k

Nola lifted her head as the front door slammed shut and Jax stormed into the kitchen, knowing from the smell of herbs that he would find his Old Lady there. No one but him knew what she was, how special she really wasᅳ and that was a good thing, for her own protection.

He knew that his club would be able to deal with it after they declared him crazy first, and maybe Jax would tell his brothers about Nola's abilities at some pointᅳ but only when his Old Lady was ready. Until then, she continued to secretly help lead the club on the right path, mainly by helping Jax talk to his dead fatherᅳ rarely, after all, it was no longer white magic once you summoned the dead.

But sometimes Jax needed the guidance that only John could give him, as much as he hated using his Old Lady for thatᅳ but Nola was happy to help, in any situation. When someone in the club was injured, she worked in the background to make sure that the healing happened much faster or that something worse could be prevented.

But that wasn't all. Thanks to Nola, Jax had learned to love again, to let warmth back into his cold heart after Tara had run off again two years ago and tried to take his sons away from him. In the end, Tara had agreed to leave the boys with him as long as she could see them both regularly, and finally moved to Oregon to take on her new job.

And when Nola came into his life about six months later, it hit him like a truck. Something about this woman had drawn him in immediately, the shimmer in her greenish eyes so strong that it felt like she could see into his soul, as if she knew exactly what he neededᅳ and shortly afterwards he had found out why.

The fact that she was a witch was a shock at first, but it made no difference. It was her person he loved, for whom he would go over dead bodies. And she would do the same for him, as he'd soon find out.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was sharp, different than usual, as if she knew something bad had happened. "What happened, Jax?"

She took a step closer, tentatively reaching for his wrists as he ran his hands down his face in despair, anger flashing in his glassy eyes. "Tara took the boys. She's gone, Nola, just gone."

He watched as Nola stumbled back, her face twisted in shock as she let the news sink in. One hand flew to her chest, the other used to brace herself against the doorframe, just as broken as he was.

Nola loved the boys as if they were her own and Jax had mentioned often enough that she was more of a mother than Tara ever had. But the doctor still had a right to see the kids because Thomas was her biological son and Jax was stupid enough to sign half of the rights to Abel over to her years ago.

"She took my babies?", she asked through a sob before blind rage overcame her. Her gaze turned cold, her eyes shining dangerously. "Do you have anything from her? It doesn't matter what, even a photo is enough."

"Can such a spell harm the baby?" Jax asked, gently grabbing her hand before casting a worried glance at her not-yet-visible baby bump. "If so, we'll find another way, babe."

"No, it can't. She'll pay for this. She can't just keep coming into our lives and ruining it by taking our babies", Nola seethed, tears of anger at Tara and fear for her children welling up in her eyes. "She'll feel the consequences."

"As much as I want that", Jax began seriously, pulling her flush against him before placing a hand against her cheek. "I don't want you to put yourself and our daughter in danger."

"You don't even know if it's a girl", she murmured quietly, seeking refuge in his arms, her head resting on his chest. "I've been a witch my whole life, Jax. I know what I'm doing, let me help."

"I just have a feeling", he mumbled against her long, raven-black hair before he placed a kiss on the top of her head, gently pushing her away by her arms. "Are you sure about this, darlin'?"

"Yes, absolutely sure", she assured him eagerly. The young woman could never do anything that could harm her own flesh and blood. "And now bring me something from Tara so I can find the bitch."

ᅳ

An hour later, Nola was sitting at the large dining table in the small but perfect house in which Jax and the kids now lived with her, the room dark due to the drawn curtains. Only the light of a few candles illuminated the dining room with soft light.

The words Nola spoke were barely understandable, but Jax still tried to figure out what exactly his Old Lady was saying; to no avail. However, concern rose in him when some blood dripped from her nose and her voice vibrated more strongly. But before he could say anything, his hand already resting on her shoulder, her eyes shot open.

"Done", she purred softly and pointed to the candles in front of her, which was placed right above an old picture of Tara, the only one Jax had found in a box in the garage. Next to it was another candle with a picture of Thomas and Abel. "The candles have to burn until they burn outᅳ don't blow them out. Give me a piece of paper, I'll write down the address of the motel."

"Why, if you've already found her?" Jax asked, standing up and coming back with a piece of paper, a pen and a tissue. "Why is your nose bleeding, Nola? I told youᅳ"

"I'm fine, baby", Nola hummed, placing a hand against his arm before taking the things with a soft 'thank you'. Only when the address was written on paper did she wipe the blood from her nose. "I want to come with you, and before you say noᅳ"

This time Jax interrupted her with a gentle kiss, caressing her cheek as he slid the note into his pocket. "We'll do this together, babe, you and me."

Nola smiled gratefully. "Then let's go, I wanna look her in the eyes again before it's too late."

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" Jax' chair slid across the floor with a squeak as he stood up after Nola, who was covering the candles with special glasses so nothing could happen. "What did you do?"

"I told you she would feel it", she shrugged nonchalantly, grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. "Come on, I want my babies back."

"Maybe I should stop asking questions", Jax muttered under his breath before they hurried to her SUV so as not to waste any more time.

ᅳ

While Jax and Nola were on their way to the motel just a few miles outside of Charming, Tara was thinking of a plan to hide with the kids until she suddenly felt a scratchy pain in her throat that was getting stronger by the second.

On her way to the bathroom to get a glass of water, she was overcome by a coughing fit. Everything in her chest tightened, taking away her ability to breathe. Panic rose in her as she was unable to stop the coughing. She brought a hand to her mouth as she gasped for air, her eyes growing as she noticed the blood in her palm.

"What theᅳ", she couldn't say more, the words just a broken croak.

A sharp pain shot through her chest, sending her to the floor in panic. Trying to sit on her knees, her upper body arched in pain. The doctor began to gag until blood gushed out of her mouth like a waterfall.

The liquid seeped into the floor, staining the beige carpet a crimson red. Her panicked gaze fell on the boys, who had both fallen asleep at the same time about twenty minutes ago, and nothing seemed to wake them upᅳ and Tara wasn't exactly quiet.

It was weird, but the boys' chests were rising and falling at regular intervals, so they had to be okay.

Tara crawled across the floor to get to her bag, and again she threw up blood, this time it even gushed out of her nose, causing her to roll onto her back and clutch her throat hastily, out of pure reflex.

With each long cough, blood spurted upwards, covering her face. This was her end, she could feel it. If she didn't get to the hospital within a few minutes, she would dieᅳ that much was certain.

Tara jerked her head to the side as the door swung open, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as Nola and Jax stormed into the room, the latter closing the door behind him.

"You bitch!" It was Nola who approached Tara first, kicking the doctor in the ribs, not surprised at the sightᅳ after all, she was responsible for it. "Did you really think you could take my kids?", the woman let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she slowly crouched down and brushed a few strands of Tara's short hair out of her face, smiling as the woman twitched and whimpered under her touch. "How are you feeling? You made quite a mess here."

"Babe, what is this?" Jax looked at the two women, not quite sure what he was staring at exactly.

He didn't care about Tara, but he didn't want Nola to have to take such steps just because his life was pure chaos. "I don't want you to kill anyone for me."

"Baby, I really love you", Nola began with a deep sigh, looking up at her fiancé. "But it's not always all about you. The bitch took our kids and kept trying to ruin our livesᅳ I've had enough."

Lifting an eyebrow, Jax was at a loss for words, not sure what to say, but his chest still filled with pure pride. His Old Lady could be a bitch, a protective one, and that was hot as hell.

"Alright, do what makes you happy, darlin'", he said, lifting his hands before he stopped behind her and crossed his arms over his chest. "But what about the boys? I don't want them to see this."

"Don't worry, they'll sleep until we blow out the candles", she reassured him, frowning. "Do you really think I would've risked our kids seeing that? You should know me better, handsome."

Jax rubbed his neck sheepishly, giving her an apologetic smile. "Sorry babe, that's not what I meant."

When Tara reached for help and grabbed Nola's wrist, Nola pulled her arm back in disgust, her eyes darkening. "I could make this stop", she said with a sweet smile, making Tara nod frantically. "On one condition.."

Nola closed her eyes, hummed a few words to herself and tapped Tara's forehead with the tip of her index finger for a few seconds, making Tara's coughing fit stop immediately.

Tara rolled onto her stomach as panicked sobs left her throat, tears streaming down her pale face. Only when she realized what had just happened did she sit down on her butt and slid as far away from Nola as possible, her features twisted in shock.

"Oh, so now you're scared?" Jax sneered angrily, his steps heavy as he slowly walked towards Tara and crouched down in front of her, Nola right next to him. "What do we learn from this?"

"Iᅳ I'm sorry", Tara choked out, bursting into tears as she pulled her legs against her trembling body. "Please..please don't hurt me!"

"Aww, she's even begging!" Nola snorted a laugh, her face only inches away from Tara's. "Here's what's going to happen. You go back to Oregon, never set foot in Charming again, and never think or talk of us again. If you try anyway, well..",

Nola sighed theatrically, almost as if she was enjoying the idea of hurting the doctor again. "Then next time I'll let you choke miserably on your own bloodᅳ and I'll watch with a smile on my face."

Tara's bitter sobs bounced off the walls, both of her hands covering her mouth to muffle the volume. "Wᅳ what are you?"

"None of your damn business", Jax snarled, his gaze murderously intense as his blue lenses dug into Tara's skull. "Did you hear what Nola said? Are you goin' to listen to her?"

"Yes, yes for God's sake! But please, please let me go", she pleaded, the sight almost heartbreaking if only someone would care about her.

Nola smiled contentedly, pushing herself to her feet. "Okay, then we're done here! Have a nice life, bitch."

While Nola turned around and threw her black hair over her shoulders so she could pick one of their sleeping sons up, Jax glared at Tara again, his gaze nothing but a threat.

"Don't say a word to anyone or you'll wish you never messed with us, Tara", Jax said, more serious than ever before, his voice was dangerously calm, before he spat at Tara's feet and then picked up Abel before he left the motel room with his family.

ᅳ

Moaning Jax's name, Nola threw her head back, her hands placed on his chest as she moved her hips in circles, his cock buried all the way inside her slick folds.

They had both needed a break after that day, and after spending the evening with their children, they had retreated to the bedroom and wasted no time in ripping off their clothes.

"That's it, darlin', keep goin'", Jax urged with a groan slipping from his lips, slapping her ass as he pushed his hips up, helping her out a little.

He felt his climax building, so he brought a hand to Nola's full breasts, kneading one in his palm as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, knowing that Nola never lasted long when her breasts got touchedᅳ this was one way to make her come, always.

"Fuck Jax", the woman on top of him gasped, locking eyes with him, returning Jax' grin, savouring every second as she rode him. "I'm close, baby", she drawled sultry, another moan falling from her plump, dark-red lips.

"Good, let go for me", he demanded encouragingly, licking his lips as his own breathing quickened and his cock twitched inside her. "Wanna feel you cum on my cock, sweetheart."

And that was it. Something in Nola's lower abdomen snapped and a moment later she climaxed, moaning his name loudly as she squirted all over him after Jax rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers again, a gush of fluids now covering his pubes, her long nails leaving bloody welts on his chest.

"Fuck babe", he panted, his voice deep and hoarse as he slid his hand to the back of Nola's neck to pull her head down, his lips brushing hers.

"I love it when you do that", Jax croaked against her lips, an excited whimper falling from them before he pulled her into a sloppy kiss, chasing his own climax.

Nola moaned into the kiss as thick ropes of cum filled her, the warm, thick liquid warming her walls even more. She was already pregnant, so what else could happen?

As she collapsed onto his chest, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps, she closed her eyes and sighed softly as Jax ran his long fingers through her raven-black strands.

"I love you, Nola, I hope you know that", he murmured, the weariness slowly becoming audible in his tone as the day took its toll. "Thank you for todayᅳ for getting out boys back."

"I know, don't worryᅳ and I love you, too, more than you know", she hummed, not doubting his words. The advantage of being a witch was that she could tell when someone was being honest or not.

Nola slowly lifted her head, leaving a kiss on his lips. "I think there's nothing I wouldn't do for you and our childrenᅳ and I mean that."

Jax smiled weakly, rubbing his thumb against her cheekbone after she rolled off him, laying down next to him. "Good, because I'd do anything for you too, darlin'."

"I know, handsome", Nola smiled again as she laid her head back on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing.

When Jax placed his hand on her bump, like he did every night since they had found out that she was pregnant, their eyelids fluttered shut, both falling into a deep sleep after a few minutes after the eventful day.

#samcrosfaith writes #jax teller x oc #jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy #violence #romance #writer #original character #smut #writers on tumblr #soa fanfiction #soa #jax teller #halloween #one shot

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i-have-no-idea-for-name · 4 months ago

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Ok, so I finished Amy's bestie 💖 meet Sunny ☀️ (come on, tell me her name IS NOT Sunny XDDDD)

pov: your child is best friends witch both your and your husband's school crush's child lol

(and sorry for the poor lighting in the photo, it's 10 p.m. here and I couldn't wait until the morning XD :') )

SO! I don't know if I should call her a hybrid because we still don't know what exactly Goldie is, but she's probably also a hybrid, sooo.... I like the idea that because they are hybrids they can be bullied in school :'< but Sunny a little less or rather very rarely 'couse she's not a child of an anti-fairy.

Poor Amy is constantly bullied because her existence almost caused the end of the worldor they tell her that Sunny is only friends with her because she's also a hybrid and she feels sorry for her :'< WICH IS NOT TRUE >:< THIS IS A TRUE BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

And they have the dinamic like these 2

(also they have matching hair bands 💖💖💖💖)

and please don't ship them

#the fairly oddparents #the fairy oddparents a new wish #fairly oddparents #fop fanchild #fop peri #fop irep #peri x irep #perirep

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whoopsyeahokay · 5 months ago

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October Sun

summary: you hadn't been sure what to feel after demanding Ajay bring the others. bring everyone. it'd been reckless, stupid. Wally you had figured had been fine, perhaps even Ajay too, but everyone? it had either been the dumbest thing you'd ever done or the smartest. thankfully, you'd learned enough about the others to know what topics to avoid and which to use to your advantage...

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.22

You sat in the dining room, the French doors closed for privacy. Your family was in various positions around you as they helped you study the pile of file folders your mother had exhumed from the enormous wooden chest in the basement.

The dining room itself was large yet cozy, eclectic, lived in; it was where your mother brought her clients for readings and spiritual counsel. A round table took up the middle of the room; a tea tray and plates of finger foods were placed in the center where a hokey crystal ball normally sat. Shelves along the back wall were stuffed with books from the Barnes & Noble witchcraft section, boasting titles like, "A Witch's Guide to Garden Magick," and, "Spells & Incantations for a Better Life."

The plum-colored ceiling was decorated in constellations that Andrew had painted the week before your mother began marketing herself, and the wood floor was covered in a layer of Persian rugs thrown here and there that had absorbed the heavy musk of the incense your mother burned during sessions.

It was a beautiful room, to be sure, and you hated every inch of it. All the frivolous bits and bobs that encouraged people to believe a lie mocking you from their perches. Portraits of people who meant nothing to your family; taxidermized crows and owls and foxes. A mounted stag's head, because why not? It added to the rustic, sorcerous atmosphere.

"What about Rhonda Botezatu?" Ginny inquired around the stem of her cigarette holder. She was done up in a silk kimono, purple hair peeking out from beneath a bronze turban. An homage to Old Hollywood starlets who'd aged into roles they'd rather die than assume. Her thin fingers and wrists were bedazzled with chunky costume jewelry, but her neck remained bare. Apart, of course, from the delicate silver pendant she rarely removed.

You couldn't help smiling at her. She was absolutely marvelous.

"Rhonda..." You began, trying not to peer down at the notes. "Died April 1964. Murdered by Alfons Manfredo, the guidance counselor. She was really into Beatnik Culture and was going to study Engineering at UC Berkeley." You wilted, looking down at the yearbook photo paperclipped to Rhonda Botezatu's dossier. Rhonda stared up at you, the hint of a smile on her lips, clever eyes bright beneath layers of eyeliner and mascara. Your heart lurched.

"I used to watch her and her younger sister, Daria, when she was a child. Her parents were neighbors." Ginny divulged, using her cigarette holder to point out the window as if to indicate the exact house. "Her older sister, Yetta, was a pain. Refused to babysit; too busy husband-hunting, but Rhonda was a hoot. Questioned everything." Ginny chuckled, rolling her eyes, "Pecked at me all day, asking this and that. Couldn't shut her up unless I put on a record and let her dance out all that energy." Her eyes went distant, a fond expression settling into her features. "Precocious. Would've changed the world if she'd been given the chance."

Your mother huffed, hovering over you as she rifled through the mound of documentation. "You skipped Janet Hamilton."

"Ooh, that idiot," Ginny slumped forward dramatically, an impression of being utterly disgusted by something. Your mother cleared her throat with intention, eyes narrowed in distaste. Ginny sighed and rolled her hand regally in your direction, "Alright, chicken, tell us what you know about her."

You stifled a giggle into the back of your hand, sharing a fond look with Andrew at Ginny's antics. "Okay, Janet. She died in 1960, but...I didn't see how...did I miss that?" You asked, scanning the sheet of paper you'd pulled from the dossier.

"No, sweetheart," Nanna assured, "There's no record of it that I ever found. Of course, by the time I started gathering information, a lot of time had passed." You could tell she was trying very hard to search her memory. Unfortunately, however, it seemed she kept finding only blank spaces.

"It was an accident of some sort," Ginny piped up. "Broke her neck somehow. Falling down the stairs, I think."

Nanna frowned, shaking her head at herself, "I vaguely recall some mention of it...honestly, you'd think I'd remember." The laugh that bubbled out of her was strained, tinged with disbelief. "She was my math tutor." A glance at Ginny to confirm, "I could've sworn it happened right before I started middle school."

"Don't look at me," Ginny scoffed, "Maybe you should scribble it down before you forget to again." She looked at Andrew, roping him into the joke, "You need to get your mother checked out, Drew, before she starts forgetting your birthday."

Positioning her reading glasses just above the tip of her nose, Nanna plucked the paper from your hand, adding, in beautiful cursive, a note about Janet's death. "You did forget his birthday last year..."

Ginny took a quick sip of her sherry, rushing to defend, "Oh pish, I did not. I told you, the gift was delayed." And then, as a side note, "Poor Reggie really is losing his mind," though she didn't sound worried about her old friend cum antique dealer. Rather, it was a pitying statement of fact, said in the manner most elderly people use when discussing each other's senility. She put her sifter down and whipped a taunting stare at Nanna, "You know, Babbigail, had either of you listened when I suggested you try the Sudoku, you wouldn't be losing your marbles quite so early."

"Oh, baldercrap," Nanna retaliated, "I'm just as sharp as I've always been!" She narrowed her eyes, mock-accusing, and presented to the room, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were cheating."

"Cheating?"

"I wouldn't put it past you to use spells all willy-nilly for your benefit."

Nanna winked at you when Ginny scoffed, outraged, straightening her spine and puffing out her chest, "Oh, how very dare you! My own sister!? Implying I would ever turn my back on the Circle!" She lifted the back of her bejeweled wrist to her brow, "Judas!"

You and Andrew dissolved into fits of laughter at the theatrics. Ginny and Nanna bickered often, always making a show of it for everyone's entertainment. It was one of many reasons that you were glad you were all under the same roof, even when it got crowded sometimes.

Behind you, your mother wasn't as amused by the performance, scoffing as she patted your head, reminding you to, "Focus, sweetheart, you only have two days to memorize all of this." She flashed an annoyed look between Nanna and Ginny, "If you two are finished, maybe we could get back to it?"

Ginny sagged sideways against the back of the chaise longue, waving dismissively with her cigarette holder, "No need to get worked up, Alice. The girl has plenty of time to sort all this out." Still, she gestured for you to move on to the next student.

Bernadette King, died in 1969 after tragically falling from a height in the old gymnasium. Then Dawn Burton, died in 1972 by accidental electrocution. Next was Yuri Vyarheychyk, a transplanted Belarussian boy who'd somehow fallen head-first into a kiln during a pottery lesson in 1978, succumbing to severe burns before the ambulance had arrived.

"Are you guys sure I should go there?" You asked, face twisted in concern as you absorbed the seemingly endless pile of information on the table, evidence that too many awful things had transpired at Split River High before now. "It sounds kinda dangerous."

"You'll be just fine," Ginny said, "You're too important. The Awen won't let anything happen to you." It sounded like something a great-aunt was obligated to say, those reassurances that you were the 'most specialist of special children.' In a world where you'd witnessed something profoundly horrific take someone you'd considered more special than yourself, your great-aunt's statement was of little comfort.

Nanna reached across the table and petted your hand affectionately, tacking on, "You have nothing to worry about. We've all attended and we're just fine. Your sister actually really enjoyed herself."

You gave her a tight smile, "If you say so," then accepted the next dossier Andrew pulled out of the pile.

"We're getting into the 80s, now." He informed, eyes twinkling as he stared over your head at your mother. "Starting with the totally hunky football star—"

"Don't start," Your mother warned. You could feel the look on her face, something eye-twitchy and vexed.

Andrew snickered, rising to the challenge, and tapped his finger on the photo clipped to the front of the folder. It drew your attention down to a face that—your breath caught, an unusual warmth blossoming within you as you took in the young man grinning up at you from the photo. The print in the top right corner said his name was 'Walker Clark'. He was...hot. Like center-of-the-sun hot. Soulful, brown eyes, kissable lips, hair swept back in a perfect 80s poof.

Andrew whistled, long and punctuating, forcing a blush to rise on the arches of your cheeks. "I think girly's got a crush," He ruffled your hair obnoxiously, "Aurora had the same reaction when we put her through the paces. 'He's so hot, oh my god,'" He mimicked in a high falsetto, "'If I could see ghosts, I'd literally ask him out, I don't care.'"

"Rory had to do this too?" You wondered, eyes never wavering from Wally's handsome face.

"Of course she did, chicken. Everyone has to. Even your grandmother had to and she can't see ghosts." Ginny explained.

"But why? If Nanna and Rory can't see ghosts, what does it matter?"

Nanna smiled sweetly at you, "Understand, dear, abilities don't always manifest fully at an early age like yours did. Before Aurora entered high school, her empathy was very subtle. Then, in her junior year, out of the blue, she could identify each ghost without batting an eye. If the Ciorcal of the Craft allowed it, I bet she would've had whole conversations with them without needing to see or hear them."

You knew Aurora's empathy was acute, how she could wield it like a weapon or a gift depending on her mood. You'd never tell her, but you found it pretty remarkable. Almost envied her for it. Your life would be much easier if you couldn't see the dead.

"That's why we do this, chicken. It's a contingency, just in case our powers manifest late or they mature faster than we have time to do something about it." Ginny elaborated and it made sense. Similar to Aurora and Nana, Andrew hadn't had any indication that he would develop Connectedness until much later, but now he gleaned incredible things from objects on command.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at Wally's photo the whole time, not once looking up to acknowledge those around you, until Nanna leaned over and voiced, "He was very handsome, wasn't he," obviously having been observing your predicament, "And so respectful. His mother and I were in a book club together with some of the other moms from the school." Suddenly, her tone shifted, turning solemn, "Bea was hard on him, though. Drove him to be the best." She sighed, "I really felt for him."

You listened with half an ear, more interested in pondering what Wally had felt about the pressure his mother supposedly put on him. Had he been equally as motivated? Or had he buckled under the weight of expectation? A tiny sliver of your soul yearned to have the chance to ask him, ignoring for the moment the Rule that your whole family lived by.

"Come on, sweetheart," Your mother's voice interrupted your thoughts, "we have a lot to go through and 2004 is going to be tricky." She flipped open Wally's folder, thus forcefully removing his face from your line of sight, doing for you what you hadn't been able to do for yourself. You exhaled a shivery breath, swallowing thickly as you accepted the first of three typewriter-typed pages. Your mother pointed to the third line of the second paragraph, "Alright, let's start here..."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Ajay had smuggled you into the school and up to the roof, managing to keep you from being caught. There had been one close call when Barry had treaded around a corner, flashlight up, demanding to know if anyone was there when your sneaker had squeaked against the linoleum. You'd watched in fascination as Ajay had manipulated his ghostliness to his advantage. He'd marched right up to Barry who, as a living person, had been unconsciously driven to avoid the invisible obstacle, his brain having fed him some rationalization or excuse that had sent him on his way. Piece of cake.

Presently, you stood near the roof's edge, fidgeting nervously as Ajay helped two people over the raised side of the portal, one after the other. You gulped, your heart beating faster and your palms clammy as you took in who they were. Rhonda Botezatu and Charley Morino. Fuck...shit... Instantly, you regretted telling Ajay to bring everyone. God, could you get more stupid!? This was such a bad idea, your mother's voice reverberating inside your skull threats of squalls and storms and ill-fated summonings. Despite the desire to stand your ground and do this for Simon, your soul trembled in despair, unable to shake the feeling of failure after years and years of being told not to let them know you can see.

You squirmed under Rhonda and Charley's attention, your eyes flicking up to their faces and then back down to your shoes as your nerves began to fray. God, Simon, you fretted, I hope it's worth it. 'It' being all the possible repercussions you could face should anyone discover what you'd done. And the more who knew what you could do, the more it was likely that someone would find out.

As you contemplated your friend, a shadow flickered over Rhonda's shoulder. A there-and-gone impression of movement that had wobbled like hot air rising from a desert road. You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again, seeing nothing to indicate what you'd witnessed had ever occurred.

"Isn't that the chick Wally was hung up on a couple of years ago?" You heard Rhonda ask Charley as they approached. Strangely, they moved as if they intended to make room for someone else between them, but, as you checked on Ajay's progress at the portal, you didn't see anyone else emerge.

"I'm not sure..." Charley answered her, openly studying you through slitted eyes; suspicious, cautious, clearly unsure what he thought about you. Still, he emanated a warmer, more welcoming aura than Rhonda who was all attitude and cool eyes. "If it is, we owe him a massive apology."

Rhonda didn't seem to agree, "She'd better make it up to him. Took him forever to stop sulking."

You were both pleased that Wally's friends had his back and cowed at the reminder that you'd basically gaslighted him in sophomore year, and Rhonda seemed keen to hold that against you. Surreptitiously, you kept peeking behind Rhonda and Charley, willing the universe to be kind and deliver Wally's fortifying presence to you. With him beside you, you felt you could handle Rhonda's cutting remarks and Charley's weighted stare.

As if on cue, the connection began to rumble and roll inside you, rising with more interest as you felt Wally get closer, and your heart started to pound for an entirely different reason.

"So," Rhonda started as she stopped two feet in front of you, arms crossed and expression tightly controlled, "You can see us."

You didn't know what else to say apart from, "Yep," wincing as it fell out of your mouth.

Rhonda's glare turned lethal, "And you didn't think that maybe you should try and help us?"

"I—"

"Oh, no, wait, that's right, you decided to help Ajay and leave the rest of us to rot, is that it?"

Charley reached out and touched her arm, sending her an expression of warning before returning his attention to you. "I am curious about why you decided now was a good time for a big reveal?" He asked in a roundabout way, tone sprinkled lightly with denigration.

That, at least, was a simple answer. "Simon's in trouble and I want to help get him out of it."

"Right," Charley looked at Rhonda, briefly seeming to cast behind her, then looked back at you, "The o t h e r living person who can see ghosts. Are you guys part of the same coven or...?"

As sarcastic as he sounded, you sensed his genuine interest and decided to expand on—wait, "Simon can what?"

Ajay's words from earlier flew out of the ether and into your head: "Everyone just got over Charley keeping Simon a secret." Well, fuck me sideways. At the time, you'd been too distracted by the fact that Ajay knew about you and Wally. Then that, of course, had been eclipsed by Ajay's purported friendship with Aurora that she'd never bothered to disclose. With all those thoughts vying for attention, your brain had swiftly filled in the blanks about Charley and Simon with something that made enough sense to keep you from poking at it. Charley, you'd guessed, had kept Simon a secret like most teenagers keep their crush a secret from their friend group. To avoid getting teased.

Thinking about it now, you realized that was the second-most idiotic thing you'd ever come up with after encouraging Ajay to give you an audience with a bunch of ghosts you were supposed to avoid like the plague.

"Are. you. fucking. k i d d i n g. me!?" You dropped into a crouch, top half folded over your knees as you dug your fingers into the back of your head, wholly and utterly defeated by the endless siege of fuckery that had been unleashed since last Friday.

"We'll take that as a 'no'," Rhonda remarked, sounding as though she was checking her cuticles. "So, what are you? A necromancer or something?"

"No," You said miserably into your knees. You rose, rubbing your temples as you tried to process everything while simultaneously explaining, "And I'm not a witch, either, so you can forget about that coven bullshit."

You were getting riled up, angry, confused; Simon could see ghosts, too? Seriously? That could have made the conversation you and he had had on the swings a helluva lot easier, dammit. But, nooo, he'd kept that to himself. And, honestly, fuck Aurora, too, because you'd spent the last three years of your life on edge and constantly alert when you could've, maybe, given fewer shits?!

Another odd, shadowy flicker distorted the air almost directly in front of you but you ignored it, your frustration gaining momentum because, fine, yeah, you hadn't said anything to Simon either, but what the fuck anyway—!

Just as you were about to scream into the void, a warm, calming sensation swept over you, the familiar scent of Wally's cologne and the pomade he used in his hair curling under your nose like a cartoon wafteron. You tilted your head up, eyes immediately locking on his, and the tension seeped out of your muscles. Wally's steps were measured, his jaw tight, shoulders squared as if he was fighting to control himself from jumping on you.

Right. Ajay had insisted that you and Wally act as if you'd never interacted. Earlier, it'd been easy to agree, the connection subtle and at ease; now, you weren't so sure. The syrupy-slick sensation lulled you into a dreamlike fog, transfixed by Wally's closeness. You watched Wally's throat bob when he swallowed, eyes drifting to his lips before slowly tracking back up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze.

"Hi..." You said, voice catching as Wally neared.

The others observed with assorted expressions of confusion and intrigue, Rhonda asking, "Whaaat the hell is happening?" to which Charley replied, "I have no idea..."

Ajay explained on your behalf, tone entirely put-upon, "It's the cRaZiEsT tHiNg. I noticed it before. Like they have some kind of mYsTeRiOuS cOnNeCtiOn drawing them together..." Glimpsing at him, you saw Ajay's features had flattened, his demeanor projecting exactly how done with everything he was, yet you couldn't find it within yourself to care. Wally was right there, gazing at you with soft eyes and a lopsided smile.

The flicker appeared again, though, unlike before, an almost physical energy came with it, arcing outward from its source into your front, forcing you back a step. A look of alarm spooked Wally's face. He lurched forward a step, simultaneously bringing his hand up as if to place it on something.

What happened next happened so quickly that you almost didn't catch it. As soon as Wally's hand made contact, a featureless silhouette popped into existence. You couldn't make out who they were, could hardly register anything as you stumbled backward another step in surprise, the back of your leg hitting the low ledge that lined the roof. From there, gravity took over, pulling you down as you teetered precariously over the wrong side of the ledge. Everyone reacted at once, Rhonda and Charley reaching out, Ajay yelling and grabbing the silhouette, and Wally—

"No!" Wally shouted as he leapt forward, grabbed you by the front of your sweater, and hauled you tightly against him before you plummeted several meters down onto the concrete below. He whirled around, planting himself between you and the ledge, his nose in your hair, heart hammering under your palm, panting from the adrenaline rush. His embrace was viselike, keeping you together as a jolt of fear shot through you.

"Are you okay?" He asked, eyes the size of saucers as he cradled your face in his big hands.

You peeked helplessly up at him, a lump in your throat and pressure behind your eyes, Jesus Christ, you'd almost joined them in the afterlife...but that wasn't the thought that blared in your head like an air raid siren.

"Do it again." You commanded, breathless, gripping Wally's arms and encouraging him to turn around. "Touch whatever you just touched again."

He blinked at you, dumbfounded, obviously not understanding what the hell you were on about.

"Whatever you just did," You instructed, "do it again," placing your hand on his shoulder to show him what you meant. Although he continued to stare at you like you'd grown a second head, he released you and moved back. You marveled as he stepped forward a few feet, picked his hand up, and then placed it down seemingly in midair. Except it wasn't midair. It was a shoulder that became visible under the weight of Wally's hand.

He shot you a peculiar expression, eyebrows drawn in doubt, "Uh...like this?" And then he stepped aside.

You gasped, going very, very still as your mouth fell open and your eyes bulged, a single, quivering utterance tumbling out of you. "Holy shit."

Everyone, including Wally, watched you in wonder, completely oblivious to the miracle that had just occurred. Everyone including—

"Maddie!?"

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-ONE - PART TWENTY-THREE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies #October Sun

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