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thoughtsforsoob · 10 months ago

Note

Hiii!Can I ask for "arguments with txt" with comfort at the end?

arguments with txt

a/n: I just made like a texts version of this so please check out my last post! I will fulfill this request by making a more long form version about what arguments with them are like/about. (I hate conflict. If people are arguing or fighting in front of me, I will run off or just straight up have a panic attack, it's happened before. trust me. witnessing school fights in hs was not kind to me). I hope this is okay too :) hehe you almost got 2 parts in a way. Please enjoy! I’m currently cleaning out my inbox so idk how fast it’ll get done but I promise im doing my best. Thank you!!!

Yeonjun

Argument’s with him are very uncommon. He often time doesn’t take them very seriously that frustrates you to no end. You and him tend to argue about little things which is surprise because you seem to talk out all of the big things you guys go through. It’s very confusing to say the least. He’ll get upset with you for little things like for example: leaving your dish in the sink for later. It drives him up the wall and it really shouldn’t. His tactics for when he’s upset is to just get away from you and ignore you for an hour or two. you already know his habits so you just leave him be. He’s not really good at admitting he’s wrong or that his behavior was pointless but he knows it in his head. Over time, he’ll stop doing things like this but just give him some time. He’s adjusting to being the both of you in the apartment and not just him.

Soobin

it's so hard to argue with him because he will never want to face your issues head on. he's shy in nature so any conflict makes him nervous and he retreats, avoiding talking about it. he would much rather forgive and forget without say much at all. sometimes, though, it's impossible to forgive and forget without saying anything. when those situations so arise, you have to sit him down and talk to him very calmly. he responds better to this type of conversations. anyways, he is very silent when it comes to arguments as well. you can tell he's upset because his responses are so short and cold. the best way to ask him to talk is just asking him straight but with a very calm voice so as to not make him upset even more.

Beomgyu

I would hare to argue with him. He's so unresponsive when it comes to arguments. The only things he does is sit there and listen to you talk to him about what he's done wrong, roll his eyes with a huff and then just spew out all kinds of meant things. He knows what he's saying but he doesn't;t think it'll affect you in the long wrong. During one argument, you were getting on him about picking up his game remote from the couch and putting them into the little box you bought him for all the cables and remotes to are stored in. you also threw in a little comment about picking his dirty clothes off the bathroom floor and he lost it. he said you were lazy and did the same thing too (leaving your clothes behind). he only realizes what he's done when you start to cry right in front of him. he goes nuts apologizing and will def come to his senses when he sees you this way.

Taehyun

he will sit there at argue with you for hours, upon hours, upon hours. he is not going to back down because he hates being wrong. even if he knows he's wrong, he hates admitting it. he always eventually admits his faults but it takes a while. he is so stubborn and it causes quite a few issues in your relationship. something this causes the both of you to fight over the most silly things ever. one of the silliest ones for example was when you were talking about how much you loved in actor in a movie you had watched he'd recently. he insists that it was someone else and eventually he realizes hes wrong but he hates to say he made a mistake. he gives you silent treatment for a few hours and when that time is up, he goes to look for you and tells you to get ready because you're going to get food with him. he is such a mom when it comes to apologizing (my mom loves to mend our issues with a trip for boba or a trip to target where she buys me snacks or a new shirt or something).

Huening Kai

he is just like soobin in the aspect of a relationship. non-confrontational to the bone. arguments trigger his fight or flight and it frustrates him when arguments run too long. arguments with him are always about him putting himself down or not letting himself rest enough when he is clearly exhausted. thats all. you too can usually talk things out due to your extremely close bond but sometimes things get out of hand and you have to get on his case. it usually starts with him coming home in tears and beyond frustrated. this is almost always because he sat in the practice room and read comments left by mean people. or because ehe was struggling with a new choreography. you try to help him by telling him to wash up and get rest but he completely just blows up on you and tells you to butt out. you leave him alone but he realizes his mistake when he see you on the couch, covered with a blanket, watching tv without him. he sits next to you and apologizes. he is not someone who hates being wrong. if he's wrong, he'll apologize with no hesitation.

#txt fluff #txt imagines #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt reactions #soobin x reader #yeonjun #soobin fluff #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #taehyun fluff #taehyun x reader #huening kai fluff #huening kai imagines #huening kai x reader

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blubushie · 8 months ago

Text

Be me out working on my truck shirtless when some little girl walks up to me from the footpath and asks me if she can ask me a question. Her dad is close on her heels trying to call her back like I'm a rabid dog, but he's also apologising profusely.

I look at her, put down my battery cables, and tell her she just asked me a question, but to hit me with another.

She finds this funny and then she asks what my top surgery scars are from. She seems a bit embarassed by it and like she obviously doesn't want to offend me.

Ohfuck.jpeg

I look at her. Look at dad. Look at her. Look at dad. Look at her. Uhh. Dad. Her. Uhhhh. Dad. Uhhhh. Her.

"Well, I've got a bad heart, so the doctors took my heart out and turn it backwards, and now it works right. But they had to go through my chest obviously, so that's how they did it."

Her eyes go big the moment I start talking. I think the accent surprised her. But instead of commenting on that she let me finish and then went, "THEY TOOK YOUR HEART OUT?!"

"They took my heart out! And now it ticks funny, but at least it ticks, ay."

She looks back over her shoulder. "DAD THEY TOOK HIS HEART OUT."

And dad goes "Wow that's crazy I am so sorry about her ok let's go home-"

But little girl goes "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Referring to me and my battery cables.

And I go "Well, see, cars get old, and batteries get old, so you get alkaline on the batteries. That's all this white stuff."

"Oh I've seen that on batteries before!"

"Yeah, so, the way to get that stuff off is to get some baking soda and some water, and it just eats away at it, like—well, you wanna try? Can she try, dad?"

"I WANNA TRY"

So dad gives her the ok and I tell her to put her foot up on the bumper cuz it's a bit high for her yet, and she climbs on up. And I give her the box of baking soda and go "Just sprinkle some on" and yeah she put on a bit too much but who cares. Then I give her the water bottle "Just spray it" and she gives it a spritz and FWOOSH the baking soda starts eating the alkaline right off the battery.

So I give her my toothbrush and tell her that now she's gotta scrub it, but she's gotta scrub slow cuz if she's too fast she'll flick alkaline everywhere and it's gonna eat through her shirt and burn her. So she's careful with her brushing. And then we washed off the cable and set it back in place and then she thanked me for letting her help and off they went back home and I heard her asking her dad what alkaline even IS on the way back, and why it's in batteries.

So, y'know. Sorry dad for the slew of questions you're gonna hafta answer on the way home. But you're welcome, little girl, for giving you something to bug your dad about.

And thanks for the clean cable.

I AM INTERSEX. Please do not tag with #trans. I love you my trans siblings but I'm tired of my intersex voice being erased for you to speak over me or claim my experiences as your own.

#💙#ford blu #intersex

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dsireland86 · 3 months ago

Note

Idk if you've heard the song Guess by Charlie XCX ft. Billie Eilish but i would like to ask for a hc or a fic whichever is easier with any one of the boys you choose inspired by this song

Holy shit! This song.... good lord. Okay, the thoughts I had with this one... yeah. Trying to figure out which one to write this one about was really freaking hard. I had to go with my gut and go with Noah.

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @thefallenangel @fadingintothegrey

Guess

18+ below!! sexual content an language

Noah watched her bend over, showing off that brand new tattoo she got last week; the one with the heart and the ivy. It rested perfectly on her lower back, right above where it dipped down into her pants.

He licked his lips and then wiped them with the back of his hand. Damn. She was hot, and she was all his. Every last piece.

"If you stare at me any harder, Sebastian, I might just disappear."

She bit her lip, grinning as she slid her hand across Noah’s face, tucking it securely behind his neck and pulling him down to kiss him.The kiss was super intense. Maybe it was because Noah was so sexually tense at the moment, wound up tight from going days without being inside her. The band's tight, grueling schedule the past week had been exhausting, leaving her and Noah not a lot of time to spend together.

He wanted her. Badly. And from the feeling of her tongue in his mouth and her sex pressing hard against him, he assumed she wanted him just as much.Noah slid his hand down her backside, cupping her ass cheek and squeezing it.

"Oh, someone is a little handsy," she mumbled against his lips.

"I feel like you have disappeared. It's been days since I've had you," he scowled, squeezing her other ass cheek. Noah's eyes hung low with lust, not even caring if everyone around them noticed.

"Yeah, I know, it's been crazy, hasn't it," she agreed, kissing him again.

"I'm aching to see you naked and feel your skin on mine," Noah confessed, whispering against her ear and making her softly whimper. She chuckled, trying her best to wiggle out of Noah's grasp.

"But I wanna know what you've got going on underneath these jeans first, little rabbit."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" grinning because of her pet name and seeing how much Noah wanted her.

She shivered from the intense look in Noah's eyes, knowing that this side of him was a rare side; the dominant, aggressive, and controlling side. It was never a side that hurt her. Noah would never, ever do that. But it was a side that made her weak and lit the fire under all the little sexual fantasies she had about him.

"Yes, I would like to know," Noah growled, clenching his jaw before catching her in a kiss. He managed to snatch her bottom lip between his teeth, biting and pulling it until he had his tongue in her mouth, and she was consuming him.

"I have an idea," she said, pushing back on Noah's chest to break away from the kiss. "Let's play a game."

"A game," Noah's eyes widened, his response more of a question than an answer.

"Yeah. If you can guess what kind of underwear I'm wearing then I'll do everything in my power to convince Matt that you and I need a night alone."

Noah squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fuck. What in god's name are you trying to do to me," he groaned, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her into him and grabbing her chin. "Especially before a show."

That feisty look in her eyes always made Noah want to kiss her, but she stopped him before he could.

"Each time you guess, you get a kiss. But each time you guess wrong, mmm," she hummed, smiling.

"What?"

"Let's just say, there's something in it for the both of us. Deal?"

Noah curled his hand around the back of her neck and pressed his forehead against hers. "Deal," Noah leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.

She carried another box of cables to the stage, sitting it down in front of Matt, before going back to get another one. Noah reached over and pinched her bottom, making her squeal.

"Pink. You're wearing the pink cotton ones," he guessed, feeling confident.

"Nope, try again," she said, kissing him quickly before walking away without looking back.

After bringing up mic stands and handing them to Jolly, she grabbed her bottle of water, chugging its contents before sitting down. Noah towered over her, standing a little too close to her face.

"Really?"

"What?" Noah grinned down at her.

"It's the see-through pair, isn't it?"

He swallowed hard, trailing his long fingers over her jaw and using his thumb to pull at her bottom lip. From where she was sitting, she got a perfect view of watching Noah's cock grow hard, twitching slightly when she licked her lips. She clenched her thighs together, trying her hardest to suppress the aroused feeling rushing through her at wanting just a taste of him. But not yet. The game was just getting started. Slowly she shook her head, giving him a lopsided grin.

"Nope."

"Fuck!" Noah grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

She stood up, purposely brushing her hand across his erection, grinning at the strong hiss that escaped him

"Try again," placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Rehearsals. Five hour rehearsals. All because the sound was off, making Matt pissed and grumpy. Noah took a moment, going to the green room to rest.

He walked in to find her asleep on the sofa, looking warm and inviting. He was dying to find out what kind of underwear she was hiding from him, what exactly she had going down there. Walking up to her and kneeling down, Noah ran his huge hands lightly up her thighs, loving the way she tossed and wiggled in her sleep at his touch. The black leggings she wore fit her body perfectly in the same way that her sex fit his cock perfectly, sleek and tight. His eyes examined her body, steadily taking his time to trace the outline of her hips and curves that connected to her sweet spot in the center. Using his finger, Noah trailed along the black fabric, down into the dips between her pussy and her thighs, loving the slight whimper she gave him.

Parting her legs so he could get closer to her, he lowered his body until his face was right up against her center. Lightly, he dragged his nose up her covered folds, letting his lips trail behind them and his warm breath lingering in their wake. It made her squirm and slightly arch her back, a sign that she wanted more.

"I know you're not asleep, little rabbit, but we're going to pretend like you are. Keep your eyes closed," he ordered," or I won't let you cum for a week."

"But this is my game," she whined, running her hands through Noah's soft, thick hair. Raising his head, and took a deep breath and exhaled it quickly, falling completely into her touch.

"Fuck your game," Noah hissed. "I'm too sexually frustrated by you to play it anymore."

"Take one more guess," she demanded, eyes still closed and head back against the couch.

"Fine. It's easy. You're wearing the pretty laced thong I bought you.

Her eyes popped open and she looked up at Noah.

"I promise I didn't look. With you laying like this, I can see the simple outline. I should have realized it earlier when I had my hands on your ass." She shook her head, sighing as she laid her head back. “But you looked. So now it looks like you’re not allowed to cum for a week.”

"I can't with you Noah. I just can't,” she laughed, shaking her head. “You know very well you couldn’t handle me not coming for a week. I like it too much. It does something for your ego and you know it.”

“Fuck me, how…” Noah was at a loss for words. She was right and he knew it. “Whatever,” he said, huffing a laugh.

Lifting her shirt, Noah licked the skin of her belly, running his hand over it and thinking about what it would be like to know there was a baby growing in there.

"You would look hot as fuck with my baby inside you," Noah muttered, kissing her skin as he made his was south of her body. "Maybe one day." Her acknowledgement of his fantasy made his heart flutter. "Maybe."

Hooking his fingers around the waistband of her leggings, he tugged them down her legs, removing them fully. The white laced thong that barely covered her pussy laid before his eyes, making him feel proud of how much he really knew about his girlfriend. He loved being right, just like she said. Noah glided one long finger along her clit, making her quietly moan, hypnotizing her with the movement of it sliding up and down slowly. His fingertip alone sent shockwaves through her entire body, causing her to arch her back a little more for friction.

"Fuck, Noah, please," she whined, rolling her head from side to side.

"Oh, little rabbit, what's wrong?" he teased her in a taunting voice.

Noah's lips found the spot right about her pelvic bone, kissing it and dragged his fingers lightly across it. A loud moan erupted from her, making him smile.

"There it is. That's the volume I want to hear you at."

His mouth trailed to her thong where he took the lace between his teeth and sucked it before removing them. Like liquid, Noah moved down her body, pulling her thong all the way down her legs until they were off. He stood up, towering over her, looking down to see her hands thrown over her face, making him chuckle.

"Too much, little rabbit?" he asked, hands on her knees as he fully parted her legs revealing her very pink, very wet cunt. Her sudden gasp at being exposed had him stroking his swollen length and his jaws watering from wanting to bury his face directly in the soaking wet mess he saw.

"It's mine, right?" Noah asked her, respectfully. "I can bite it, lick it, spit on it; turn you all out if I want to?"

"Do you want to do all that to me?"

Noah smiled. "You goddamn right I do, baby. I love you and I want you to know that I love you. I want to show. So can I? Can I go down on you and fuck your pussy until you cum."

Her stomach turned with excitement and in anticipation. "Yes," she said softly and swallowing hard, hardly able to hold out any longer. Noah knelt back down and immediately began lapping up her juices, locking his large hands onto her thighs.

"Holy shit, Noah, oh god," cried, biting down on her bottom lip.

"Louder, baby," he mumbled against her pussy as he plunged his tongue into her center, getting all up in it.

"Noah," she panted, gripping his hair.

"Fuck! You taste so fucking delicious," he praised, running his tongue up her folds and finding her clit. He took the little bud between his teeth, sucking it before nipping it and making her scream.

"Yeah, that's it, pretty girl, let them hear you," Noah praised some more, squeezing and stroking his very hard cocked pressed tightly against the front of his pants.

Her needy moans grew louder the moment Noah slipped a finger in her, fucking her slowly at first. He watched her, observed her desire turning into pleasure as he inserted a second finger, thrusting deeper into her until he hit her most sensitive spot. Her body jerked, small trembles running through her body as Noah pressed his mouth between her legs again. His wet kisses along the inside of her thighs turned into small nips when he sucked her skin and left large purple bruises behind as he made his way back to her pussy.

Removing his fingers, Noah teased her sensitive clit with his tongue, running circles around it, while she moaned and whimpered. Her slight bucks into his mouth made his cock twitch each time, making his arousal build up even faster.

"Fuck, Noah, don't stop I'm almost there," she panted, tugging at his hair again.

Noah lifted his head and pulled his fingers out, earning him a loud whine of protest. Without a second thought, he spread her lips and spit into her center, grunting and glowering with so much sexual frustration. His hair was all in his face, some sticking the sweat covering his forehead.

"Dammit Noah, fuck baby, I need you," she whined, panting like an animal in heat, beckoning him to her.

Slamming his fingers back inside her, Noah picked up speed, groaning at the sounds of his spit mixed with her precum coating his fingers that were fucking her pussy.

"You're tightening, baby, clenching around my fingers. Fuck, yeah, that's it baby, ride my hand, grind against. Make yourself cum for me.” "I wanna come in your mouth," she said, wrapping her hand around his wrist. He gave her a thrilling smile, pulling his fingers out of her and bringing them to his mouth. He licked her off them before bringing them to hers.

"Open," he ordered. She did, making Noah feel like he was about to cum in his pants, watching her suck herself off his fingers, twirling her tongue around them.

"God, fucking," Noah groaned, exhaling sharply.

It was only a few seconds until she let out a wrenching moan, and Noah felt her come apart in his mouth. It made so much precum spill from his swollen, aching cock, soaking his briefs.

Noah quickly undid his pants and slipped out of them, revealing his long erection.

"Jesus, Noah," she breathed.

"It's all from you, Princess. You make me so fucking hard all the time, all I can think about is being inside you."

He picked her up like it was nothing, sitting down in her place while positioning her on his lap. Grabbing his cock, she pumped him a few times, swirling more precum around, and slipped herself over him, sinking all the way down instantly.

"Holy fuck," Noah moaned as she began to ride him. Her hands found his shoulders and his hands found her waist. He pulled her back and forth while she grinded her cunt against him, crying out his name the moment he hit her cervix.

"Noah, god you feel so fucking good inside me."

Noah smiled big, lifting her shirt and removing it then unclasping her bra to reveal her breast; Noah's favorite part. He buried his face in between them before taking one his mouth. He sucked, pulled, and bit her nipple like it was his favorite lollipop, pulling more loud moans and quiet screams. Looking down, he watched as his cock, thick and coated with the echoes of her orgasm, slid in and out of her. She picked up her pace, fucking him fast and harder, earning her filthy words of praise.

"I love it when you fuck me like a dirty slut, you know that," Noah confessed, griping her hips tightly, fingers digging into her flesh. Her repetitive, whimpers and slight screams filled the room.

"If you want me to be your slut Noah, all you have to do is fuck me from behind."

Noah's mouth fell open.

With his heart beat racing, Noah didn't think twice before pushing her off of him and telling her to get on the floor on her hands and knees.

"God, you want to be my fucking slut, baby? Do you?"

She nodded, looking over her shoulder.

"Good, cause I wanna fuck you like one, like the filthy fucking whore that you are for me," he growled, clenching his teeth.

Noah shoved her face to the floor, hand locked behind her neck to hold her down. With his other hand, he smacked her ass, before lifting her up and wasting no time and slamming his cock into her.

Crying out at the sudden invasion, she dug her nails into the rug beneath her as Noah held on tightly to her and ruthlessly began fucking her at a fast past. Each time she caught her breath, another hard thrust knocked it out of her lungs, sending her mind spiraling.

Nothing was heard but moans, cries, and the slap of flesh against flesh.

"God dammit, Princess, look at you taking me. Pounding into you soft pussy, fucking you raw. I love you. I love that you're a dirty slut! " Noah growled as his thrusts grew sloppier.

"Your sweet cunt feels so fucking good clenching around me baby girl. Scream for me. Make me cum. Make me cum hard," he begged.

The pressure and the sensitivity was all too much to handle anymore. Cumming hard for Noah again, her muffled screams echoed through the green room. Noah shook, his release keeping him right on the edge.

"Fuck me hard, Noah," she begged, know exactly what he needed to get off.

"Say it again," he panted.

"Harder Noah," she whined, "fuck me harder."

That last phrase was all it took. Noah pulled out quickly and released his warm cum all over the bottom of her back and ass. He loved watching it drip off and down her legs.

"Motherfucker! Fuck!" he cried, shuttering as he milked himself, pulling every last bit of cum from his dick.

Both of them breathless, sweaty, sticky, and hot, they took a moment to catch their breath and regain composure. "I think," Noah said, trailing his fingers down her back as she laid there resting, "that we should play this "Guess" game more often. You haven't fucked me like that in a while," he said laying a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Yeah, I know," she said regretfully. "Hey, I get it, being on tour and all. It's okay," Noah assured her. He caressed her cheek sweetly, laying a kiss on her shoulder. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I wasn't too rough?" Noah's concern melted her heart. She scooted closer to him lying close to his chest for a moment.

"No, my love, you didn't hurt me." "Okay, good." Noah sighed in relief, caressing the back of her hair. "Because I never want to do that. I never want to intentionally hurt you."

She looked up at him and he lowered his face to hers, kissing her softly and sweetly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fan fiction #bad omens cult #bad omens #bad omens fan fiction

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catscidr · 1 year ago

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Can you make a scenario with obedient reader who is getting experimented on by Dottore please ☺️

nonnie i started writing this at 1 in the morning yesterday because i couldn't stop thinking about it and i may or may not have gone over my self imposed word limit. however....... hot doctor. so. hope u enjoy because ik i sure as hell did ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: dottore being just a biiit creepy, slightly suggestive (?), normal tension + sexual tension asgnfns includes: fem!reader, dottore wc: 1,9k

“Stick your tongue out.”

Dottore places his gloved thumb on your tongue, knocking you out of your daze.

As per your routine, the doctor performs a quick, partial check-up to assess your physical state before diving right into his scheduled experiments. What he had planned you never knew; such was the joy of being one of the second Harbinger’s playthings.

He gazes into your mouth with an almost bored expression as he looks for anything out of the ordinary. Being so close to his face, you could feel the warmth of his breath tickling your cheeks and the sharp point of his mask just barely grazing your jaw. When finally satisfied, Dottore mumbles something about nothing that’ll skew the test results and pulls his hand back, wiping your saliva off on his coat. You shut your jaw and look at him expectantly, waiting.

He turns his back to you and rummages through a drawer, taking out an assortment of what appears to be wires coming out of a small rectangular box with even more wires sticking out of that. You glance at the machine and then back up at Dottore, a question burning on your tongue that he answers before you get the chance to voice it out loud.

“This right here,” he sets the machine down on the table and plugs some cables into his laptop, “is a polygraph. Do you know what it is?” he asks with the ghost of a smile, hands buried in his pristine lab coat. You nod silently.

“A lie detector,” the doctor says, disregarding your answer. He takes out a vial from his pockets and brings it up to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, observing how the liquid shone at the right angle. Letting his arm fall to his side, he takes a few steps around the table and towards the chair you’re sitting in, bending down to your height.

“Do you know what this is?”

He brings his hand up to show you the vial in question. A purple, slightly translucent solution that came halfway up the thin glass, shut tightly with the help of a small cork seal. You already knew what you had to do with it, but not what the liquid itself did. Slowly, you shake your head and tear your gaze away from the liquid, looking back up at the man in front of you. His expression doesn’t change for a second, observing your own carefully.

“Simply put, it’s a truth serum. Anyone that drinks this will find that they will be rendered unable to lie. Of course, the serum itself is still being tested, which is precisely why you’re here,” he says, his smile growing just slightly. You part your lips, hesitant to speak.

“So, you... want me to drink the potion and then take a lie detector test to verify whether it worked or not?” you ask with a small glimmer of hope in your eyes. The doctor nods curtly, his expression unwavering. You internalize a sigh; looks like you lucked out today and won’t have to endure any physical torture this time around.

“Now drink,” he says, emphasizing the order by taking out the cork top with a quiet pop, bringing the vial up to your lips. Your hand reaches up to grab the glass but right as you reach it, Dottore uses his free hand to swat your hand away. You tear your gaze away from the serum and look up at the doctor- his expression flat, lips devoid of the small smile that was previously on his face. He pushes the vial closer to you, the edge of the tube pressing against the plush of your lips, forcing you to tilt your head back ever so slightly.

“Drink,” he repeats, his deep voice rumbling your nerves.

You part your lips and tilt your head back even more, allowing the Harbinger the space to push the vial past your lips. Your throat bobbed as soon as the serum made its way down, Dottore’s stare unwavering from your face. The purple serum slid down smoothly; the lack of any discernable taste only being slightly unnerving, all things considered.

Dottore stares at you long enough for you to start becoming nervous by his presence. However, as soon as your pulse quickens, he leans back and puts an acceptable distance between the two of you as he puts away the, now empty, vial back in his coat pocket.

“How do you feel?”

That makes you pause. How did you feel? Nervous, anxious? Awkward, even? The answer was an obvious all of the above. However, this was in response to Dottore’s unusual closeness, not in result of the serum changing your body in any way, shape or form. In fact, you didn’t really feel anything other than your heart racing in your ribcage. You felt strangely normal, which only fueled the slight agitation boiling in the pit of your stomach; feeling anything less than discomfort when subjected to Dottore’s experiments was nothing short of unusual. But, knowing he couldn’t care less for an answer that doesn't regard the effects of the serum, you keep your thoughts to yourself.

“I feel fine,” you say as normally as you could. Dottore narrows his eyes, observing your behavior with interest, but doesn’t push further.

He directs his attention back to the polygraph on the table, wires hanging loosely off the side of the surface. Grabbing the four cables, he peels off the protective film off from the sticky sides and sticks two cables on your temples and one on your wrist. Holding the last cable, he looks down at you with an unreadable expression.

“Tilt your head back for me,” he says quietly, voice unassuming.

You do as he says and, as soon as your throat is revealed, Dottore plunges his hand into your shirt. He sticks the last cable to the top of your left breast, fingers grazing the plush skin for a moment before he retracts his hand and rounds the corner of the table. Your heart pounds in your ribcage, your poor, weak mind reeling at how physical he seemed to be getting despite the psychological nature of the experiment. He makes no further comment as he opens his laptop and does whatever it is he needs to do in order to start the test.

“Keep staring at the wall. I’m going to be asking you a series of questions. You are to answer with the first thing that comes to your mind, in the most natural way possible. Understood?” Dottore says rigidly. You nod quickly, replying with a quiet yes, sir.

“Then let’s begin. What is your name?” he asks, leaning his chin into his palm.

You tell him your name which, obviously, doesn’t make the lie detector go off. He nods and continues, asking questions that range from “where are you from”, “when is your birthday” and “how tall are you”.

However, the more he speaks, the more his questions become increasingly... risky to answer.

“What do you think of my experiments?”

Holding your tongue, you mull it over for a moment. Even though you knew that no matter what you intended to say wouldn’t matter, that you’d just tell the truth no matter what, you wanted to think carefully either way. After a moment you part your lips, still staring at the wall like he instructed at the start, and speak.

“Sometimes they can be painful, but I know you’re doing what’s best for me and... everyone else.” You felt the way your hands clammed up from sweat, the plastic chair becoming increasingly uncomfortable for you to sit in without shifting your weight. Dottore looks at the screen of his laptop and grins, his gaze finding your tense figure once again.

“What do you think of me?” he asks, and even though you can’t see his expression, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You respond without allowing yourself to stress over what your truth is.

“I think you have a strong work ethic, and I... admire you for it.”

His lips stretch into a wide, uncharacteristic smile. Dottore stays quiet, stalling for the next question to let you simmer with what you just said. He shifts his position on the table, leaning forward over the computer with both hands clasped in front of him.

“And what do you think of me, not as a Harbinger but as a simple, regular man?” he asks coyly, his mask hiding the way his crimson eyes pierced a path into your side profile.

“That you’re attractive,” you blurt out, head tilting to the side away from him to hide the way your cheeks immediately warmed up. The doctor scoffs, amused by the sheepish display merely a few feet in front of him.

“Hm. Good,” he hums to himself, straightening his back to lean into the chair he sat on. “Look at me,” he orders firmly.

Not even giving yourself the time to process his words, you automatically turn your head to look at your captor. The sight of his pleased, seemingly innocent smile made your heart flutter. He grabs the side of his laptop and turns it around so you can look at the... blank screen?

Before you can question what exactly it is you were looking at, Dottore speaks up.

“I wasn’t tracking your answers. I lied to you. What did you say you felt after drinking the serum?” he asks with a tilt of his head, amusement clear on his face. You freeze, brows raising ever so slightly as the cogs turn in your head.

“Nothing...?” you murmur quietly, slowly understanding what he meant.

“Nothing, because you just drank water. With a dash of food coloring, sure, but water nonetheless.”

“Ah.”

Looking at his intricate mask then back down at the blank laptop screen, you felt yourself become increasingly embarrassed the longer the silence between you two stretched out. Dottore chuckles heartily, the sound revibrating in the small room as he stood up to loom over your figure.

“Technically, you could still call this an experiment. What if you did lie? There’s a possibility you did since nothing forced you to tell the truth. However, I know you wouldn’t.”

He leans down to your height, a gloved hand coming up to tilt your head back, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re always so good to me, you know. So obedient, compliant and malleable,” he sighs, a soft and eerie smile on his face. “My favorite test subject,” he whispers.

Glued in place, you do nothing aside from staring up at him with wide doe eyes, your cheeks flushed as a result from the attention he gave you.

“What a good girl you are,” he mumbles to himself, but still loud enough that you can hear. The doctor was so close that you could just barely feel the warmth of his body against you aside from his hand holding you still, his lips ghosting over your own.

With a chuckle, Dottore straightens his back and looks down at you with a knowing smirk, acutely aware of the effect he had on you. He hums, faking being lost in his thoughts, conscious that you sat there, waiting, silently begging for more.

“How about a reward, then?” he suggests in a low voice. “Prove yourself to me, prove that you spoke nothing but the truth, and I’ll reward you handsomely.” Dottore tilts his head in a way that can only be described as condescending, smiling at your bashfulness. Slowly, he takes off the wire stuck to your body, his hand lingering beneath your shirt, over the cable stuck to your chest.

“I’m sure you’d enjoy that, my pretty test subject.”

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x afab reader

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kandidandi · 2 years ago

Text

Astronomer Au

(for @muzzlemouths beloved)

AHEM- before i type anything please know my brain is silly stupid and may forget a few things so if you've got any questions- *furiously points to my ask box*

anyways anyways!

About Y/n:

y/n is an astronomer living in an observatory they inherited from their grandfather in the outskirts of a small town. y/n wanted to become an astronaut but sadly due to the stroke they suffered they feel they can no longer become one >:'( y/n had suffered from a stroke and became partially paralyzed in their left side (hemiplegia) they can still move these limbs but with great difficulty.

with y/n spending more and more time alone their grandfather had gotten concerned and gifted them a companion animatronic (he got them custom sun and moon themed because he loves his grandchild very much) so they wouldn't get lonely (also sun and moon help y/n with shopping and other chores yknow)

y/n spends most of their time indoors studying and researching, this has led to poor selfcare as y/n will often sleep at their desk instead of their bed (sun and moon do not like this one bit)

About Sun and Moon:

In the beginning y/n didn't like sun or moon AT ALL, they felt it was unnecessary because "I don't need someone messing up my very important organisation! they'll just get in the way!" *cut to papers and pens scattered across the floor*

Sun and Moon are companion bots, though they also count as care bots. They don't really care about space or the world at first and only did what they we're built to do until they hear y/n rambling and muttering to themselves and get curious and ask what's up. *CUT TO SUN AND MOON GOING STARRY EYED LISTENING TO Y/N TALK ABOUT SPACE*

They've slowly made a bond and often share days and nights talking about all the possibilities of other planets, aliens, whats inside a black hole and what-not.

Sun and Moon charge through solar power and cable. sometimes they lie about their cable being faulty so y/n can come outside with them. "cmon y/n! we need to charge and our cable is brokenn you dont want us to lose power do youu :(" "YOU GO TO TOWN ON YOUR OWN WHY DO I NEED TO COME WITH YOU OUTSIDE???" and then y/n goes with them anyways lolol

Location/floor plan: (because im insane for world building) (also very simplified lolol)

extra notes:

-y/n does not die and is not dying in this au! -y/n was living in the observatory before they had their stroke so it's not built with the easiest ways to get up and down the levels (y/n mostly stays upstairs and only leaves for bathroom breaks)

-Music that inspired this au Interstellar Main Theme Comet Observatory 1 Now We Ride Daydreamer Dance on the moon

#kandidandi drew a thing #astronomer!au #again my brain can and will forget things #so if you want any clarification / have a question please ask me #i think about things and cant word them properly please excuse me #do not talk to me about architecture *ugly sobibng*#sundrop #moondrop #y/n

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animatedjen · 7 months ago

Note

What's some stuff you're really hoping to see in Jedi 3 (either narratively or gameplay wise)?

Oh I'm so glad you asked this 🙌 Because I have THOUGHTS.

Gonna put everything under the cut so this doesn't clog up the feed with a wall of text (whoops.) Some of these ideas I hope to create concept art for, after I replace/fix my very cranky thirteen-year-old tablet. Anyway let’s start with gameplay!

Gameplay!

Maintaining Cal's abilities: Survivor handled this beautifully by keeping many of the skills learned in Fallen Order, instead of undoing Cal's growth from the first game. I think it'll be trickier to keep this momentum into Jedi 3 (the skill tree has gotten so large!) but story reasons could push Cal towards new types of abilities instead of bloating the current options.

More synergy between the lightsaber stances: I like all the stances in Survivor and it'd be A) disappointing to lose any of them, but B) overwhelming to add MORE combat styles. Being able to flow between the stances more fluidly would be fun though, with specific combos unlocked depending on which two are active together. Now if Merrin lets Cal borrow her knife-staff and he puts his lightsaber on the end... MAGICK SABER PIKE GO.

New or adapted movement mechanics: Maybe the ascension cable is replaced with a force ability (Force Ascend or Force Leap for an extra vertical boost?) or is "upgraded" to connect between two anchors, letting Cal create his own temporary ziplines.

Replayable missions: This could be explained in-game with a Force Tear or Cal's own interactive echoes. But I'd love the option to experience story missions and boss fights again post-game.

Customization!

This is a bonus section because Merrin should get new outfits. Haven't decided how to make it part of gameplay yet, stay tuned.

Cal's cosmetics in Survivor are mostly cool, some just funny, but overall a huge improvement from Fallen Order (yes, even though we miss all the poncho designs). For Jedi 3 I'd love to see more story-centric cosmetics that tie into the communities and people Cal has met along his journey. A Legacy outfit (incorporating pieces from his three Jedi masters), an Anchorite-inspired outfit (with arm tattoos), a bounty hunter outfit (the prize after defeating the Brood), etc. Maybe a Bogling outfit? No not made from Boglings; it looks like a Bogling. Hang on lemme fix my tablet—

Narrative + Gameplay!

Explore Tanalorr: Right now this sparkly, strong-in-the-Force, temple-carved planet is a huge mystery box for Jedi 3. There's a few directions it could go - more High Republic history, another civilization (the Nihil? someone new?) lurking in the shadows, or Force-related secrets hiding below the surface. Each Jedi game has followed Cal's exploration of an ancient culture, and I think Tanalorr can be a focal point in that journey.

Defeat Sorc Tormo and the Haxion Brood: I mentioned this in an ask earlier this week, but I so want a resolution to this fight against the Brood. Especially since roaming bounty hunters would threaten the Hidden Path. Maybe Cal breaks back into Ordo Eris, or hunts down Sorc Tormo on another planet. Maybe there's a Force-only stealth section?? Maybe a big multi-wave boss fight? Maybe Caij is there??? (no she doesn't get an invite to Tanalorr)

Dark Side Force Slow: The fact that Cal's Force Slow ability kept its red-stained aura, even in the Survivor post-game, is great. I love lasting consequences and ludonarrative harmony, yes yes yes. Really hope this isn't fully resolved by the start of Jedi 3 (potential timeskip makes it tricky but whatever) and the ability receives some sort of healing through Cal finding his way out of the darkness.

Narrative!

Timeskip?: I vote no, but I think Jedi 3 will vote yes, likely to age up Kata and allow Tanalorr to be more developed. But that also means Cal and the Mantis Crew goes through character development without us (boo) or remains emotionally stunted until we get there (also boo?). I'm more comfortable with the five year gap between FO and Survivor than I used to be though, despite "missing out" on big character moments, so maybe it'll be okay. Maybe. 👀

The Hidden Path builds a home on Tanalorr: This works until it doesn't, whether from outside pressure or the threat of a spy within. I don't think Bode's fears should necessarily be validated, but I do think the risk will keep Cal on edge and hurt his ability to trust (both others and himself.) It'll drive decisions that strain his relationships and be a source of conflict for part of the game.

The Mantis gets semi-retired and then reinstated: I just love the mental picture of the Mantis parked somewhere cozy and decorated with cloth and lights and a hideout for Kata. It's become too small and high profile to use for gathering the Path, but when the plot gets going, they're gonna need her back in action.

Three main antagonists: The Empire, an unrelated third-party with their own goals (Nihil or someone else), and Cal's own demons. The first two drive the external conflict, the third drives Cal's inner conflict and the story's themes. More on that at the end.

A memorial garden: It's designed by Pili and filled with native Tanalorrian plants and trees, from which the Anchorites hang cords and windchimes and bits of colored glass. Cere's saber was buried beneath the largest tree. Cal plays her hallikset here when he's too troubled to meditate. If we want to be mean, this place gets damaged during a battle in Act 3. If we want to be less mean, this is the place that doesn't get damaged during a battle.

Kata has some sort of student-teacher relationship with Cal: I'm torn on her being Force sensitive: this is a story about Jedi and "guide her through the darkness" is pretty telling given Cal's own darkness at the end of Survivor. But Cal helping Kata (and Kata helping Cal) can happen regardless of her Force sensitivity - it would just look different. This is a soft answer because I'm still exploring ideas around it BUT admittedly the angst levels would be higher if she is sensitive.

A battle against the shadow self: Look this one is cliche. I don't care. I want a huge cavern in the depths of Tanalorr where Cal gets to fight a dark version of himself that switches between all his former enemies. If we're making a video game here let's physically beat up our darkness. Let's have it not work. Let's bring Cal to rock bottom to remind him that he is more than his darkness and he doesn't have to do this alone. Let's go back to that same fight later and then we finally win.

There's more to explore story-wise and I will eventually, but I'm overall not concerned about Jedi 3's narrative. Respawn has been very intentional with their writing of Cal Kestis and the Jedi series so far (despite some last minute changes to Survivor) and I love this character and this story because of all the great work they've created. I really hope they finish this journey the way they want to. That being said—

How should Jedi 3 end? Should Cal die?

No: I'll argue Cal dying at the end of the trilogy completely undermines the entire lesson of Survivor.

Cal wouldn't stop fighting the Empire: The Cal we meet at the beginning of Survivor definitely wouldn't. That Cal also watched countless friends die to that same fight and saw two different Jedi fall to their passions-turned-obsessions that led them to the dark side. He may wrestle with remnant obligation or a bitter apathy, but he's definitely not as single-minded as he was before.

Cal would sacrifice himself to save the Path: Yeah, he probably would. Cere did exactly that during the Siege of Jedha when all else failed. But maybe the Path could be protected without Cal needing to be a Weapon - a lesson Cere also wanted him to learn.

Another way: I think the Koboh abyss (that separates Tanalorr from the rest of the galaxy) could be destroyed. I don't know if Cal would choose to destroy it, but I think the Empire would: if they can't reach Tanalorr it's the next best thing.

Now Cal has to make a choice: Leave (continuing the fight alone) or Stay (shepherding the Path for an unknown future.) It doesn't mean they never find a way back to the known galaxy, but it'll take time. Enough time for a New Hope to appear.

Whatever your opinion of the Sequel Trilogy, the line: "That’s how we’re gonna win. Not fighting what we hate. Saving what we love." is not only a complete thesis of Star Wars, but fits really well with Cal's journey. He's become very good at fighting. He wants to save everyone in Fallen Order, and he can't. He still wants to save everyone in Survivor, and they refuse him. His Fight has made a difference (again, Cere says as much) but it's clear this can't be Cal's final answer.

Choosing to protect the Path, choosing to trust the Force, choosing a home. That's what he's been fighting for. I love Cal Kestis because he isn't the chosen one and he isn't going to save the galaxy. But for his family and his community, he saved their galaxy. It's cheesy but I don't care, and you know Greez and BD would agree with me.

Okay this got so, so much longer than I expected. Bonus points if you made it all the way down here haha. I've had a weird assortment of concepts and ideas over the past year but never wrote them down in one place - until now. I've said it before but part of my hyperfixation with the Jedi series is because it isn't finished yet and Survivor ends on such a gut-wrenching cliffhanger. Whatever happens to this series, I'm slowly finding some sort of catharsis through all the edits and photomode shots and half-baked concepts. Thanks for tagging along ✌️

#thanks for the ask!!!!!#this is so long I'M SO SORRY #it is late and my feelings are BIG #star wars jedi survivor #jedi survivor #cal kestis #star wars #jedi 3 concepts

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scoobysnakz · 1 year ago

Text

Hard Luck

It’s hard finding love when your sole reason to live is your daughter, but when her best friends dad is annoyingly attractive and might have something to do with your rent randomly getting paid, who can blame you for being a little curious?

||* mentions of masturbation (m receiving)

Chap i

The crisp autumn air carries a sense of nostalgia, which surprises you. It has been a while since you've experienced autumn in this way, but nostalgia is supposed to be a pleasant feeling, right?

Your daughter's small, chubby fingers firmly grip your hand as you playfully swing your arm out of her reach. You can't help but laugh at her adorable pout when you pull your hand away.

"I'm just teasing you," you say with a wide grin, extending your hand for her to take. "Stop being a grouch and hold my hand, RayRay!"

Her scowl quickly turns into a cheesy grin as she latches onto your hand. The sound of her pencil case and notebook thumping matches the rhythm of her skipping, and her glittery, purple sequin backpack bounces on her back.

Raya, or RayRay as you playfully call her, is your best friend. It's a bit sad, you know, but you've never really had time for friends. Ever since her dad left, she's been the only person in your life, aside from colleagues and your parents. And it's not so bad. She has adapted to your lifestyle, developed a sense of humor—her sarcasm is surprisingly on point for a nine-year-old.

The journey from your rundown apartment to her school isn't long, but it's far enough for the houses to transform from shabby boxes with crooked slate tiles to fancy condos with gleaming windows. It always amazes you how a few turns can take you to an area where people don't even know the meaning of a food bank.

You can tell by appearances alone that you don't fit in. The navy blue cable-knit sweater and boyfriend jeans, dirtied with mud stains, don't exactly scream, “I can afford more than one vacation a year!"

On the other hand, Raya always looks pristine. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but you'd rather wear nothing than have your daughter look as unkempt as you. Ensuring she has enough clean, stain-free clothes is your number one priority.

As you round a corner, narrowly missing a puddle that Raya "only wanted to look at" and not jump in, her disappointed expression gives her away.

Parents bustle around, urgently trying to retrieve their kids from the playground. It's nearly impossible to spot her teacher amidst the crowd of what seems like millions of moms, dressed in thick white scarves and thigh-high brown boots.

And then you hear it—a loud screech that, under different circumstances, would signify fear instead of the original joy it was intended for. "RAYYYY!" an excited girl squeals from the opposite end of the playground. Her dark brown hair is scraped back into a painfully tight ponytail as she races toward your daughter.

The two girls jump up and down gleefully, holding each other closely. It's a nice seeing her not alone.

You're so engrossed in watching your daughter giggle with her friend that you fail to notice the tall man standing next to you. What catches your attention first is his cologne—it's expensive.

The scent of thick oak is overpowering on its own, but it's tempered by the most unremarkable shower gel known to man.

"They're cute, aren't they?" he asks, causing you to turn your head and face him. You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out who this guy is. "Yeah... they are," you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Your words come out ruder than you intended, but you can't be bothered to fix your manners when a surprisingly attractive man is staring at your daughter, enjoying her time with another child. If you weren't genuinely confused about his identity, you might have reacted more strongly. Instead, you stand there, arms folded and brow furrowed.

"I'm... sorry, I'm Gabi's dad," he explains, his tone surprisingly apologetic.

That's her name.

"I'm Raya's dad," you reply, nodding toward the two girls. Hearing who he is instantly eases your fear that he might be something worse than just a father.

An awkward silence ensues as the man continues to study your appearance, seemingly taking you in. With a soft laugh, he smiles at you—a warm and irritatingly charismatic smile. "You don't look like a dad," he grins.

You open your mouth to give him a sharp, quick-witted retort, but your expression falters when you realize your mistake. Refusing to let this stranger have the upper hand in your first interaction, you smirk at him. "What do you mean?" you ask, poking your tongue past your lips to swipe across your teeth.

He instantly catches on to your smirk, and to be honest, it's endearing. "Because you don't look likea typical dad," he responds, matching your quickness. The same mischievous grin is plastered on both of your faces as you engage in a playful stare-down.

This morning, when you hastily applied expired mascara and cheap lip balm while trying to wake up Raya, you never expected to encounter such an annoyingly funny and undeniably attractive man—by your standards, at least.

With high cheekbones, thick eyebrows, and broad shoulders, anyone would take a second look at him.

The loud peal of the school bell interrupts your scrutinizing gaze, drawing your attention back to your daughter. You quickly give her a kiss on the cheek, and she instinctively wipes it away while giving you a glare, before you push her towards the school entrance.

The man—whose name you still don't know, aside from being Gabi's father—does the same, but his daughter doesn't wipe away the kiss.

"When I asked who you were, I was hoping for a name," you mutter, mostly to yourself, but hoping he hears it too.

"Miguel," he responds, his voice lacking the warmth he had when his daughter was present.

"I'm..." you begin to introduce yourself, but he cuts you off, his voice now tinged with cockiness.

"I know who you are," he says, raising an eyebrow. Your scoff makes it clear how creepy he sounds. "Gabi talks about Raya a lot, and with you being her mother, it's only natural."

You narrow your eyes at Miguel, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. Raya is your world, and beyond that, you've kept everything else tightly guarded. It's a defense mechanism, a way to shield yourself from potential hurt or judgment.

"What exactly does Gabi say about Raya?" you ask, your voice tinged with caution. You're not sure if you should be flattered or concerned that your daughter is a topic of conversation between Miguel and his daughter.

Miguel chuckles, seemingly amused by your response. "She just talks about how funny and cool Raya is," he replies. "They've become good friends at school. Gabi is always excited to see her."

There's feel a sense of relief that washes over you. It's comforting to know that Raya has found a friend who appreciates her for who she is.

“Well I need to go,” you say while motioning over to the school gates. “Work and stuff.”

He nods his head, expression just as nonchalant as it was moments ago.

***

After dropping off Raya at school, and a brief yet intriguing conversation with Miguel, you head back home. It's considerably warmer now than it was before; sun poking out of the clouds, shining down onto the leaf-littered pavement. The odd car whizzes past and it's all you can do to jump away in time before it splashes you in murky brown liquid.

Fortunately for you, you don't have to leave for work until ten so you get some time to yourself. As soon as you unlock the door to your apartment, it took longer than you'd like to admit as you forgot which way to turn the key, you flop down onto the worn-in sofa. It creaks beneath you- a sign that you need to get a new one.

If you had the money, you would. God, if you had the money you’d move out of this shitty apartment and into… anywhere else. Maybe a house on the coast would be nice, or one of those fancy condos by Raya’s school. Either way, you want out.

You feel your eyes grow heavy, the temptation to allow yourself a few moments of sleep all too good. With a low groan, you pull yourself up off the sofa and drag your feet over to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee.

You open the jar only to find a minuscule amount granules left- six to be exact. All you want is that burst of energy and yet you are denied it. “Fuck me,” you grumble under your breath.

***

Even though it was a painfully short moment between the two of you, Miguel decides you are tolerable. Okay, maybe you’re more than tolerable, he'll settle for bearable as he's feeling especially nice today. You’re funny, well that might be a bit dramatic since he hasn’t even had a proper conversation with you, but you made him laugh- internally that is.

But right now he needs to push you, the nice lady with a pretty smile and even prettier face, out of his mind. He has to focus on this paperwork that's been sitting on his desk for God knows how long.

Begrudgingly, he picks up his pen with a sigh and starts scrawling his signature on the limitless reams of paper. It's all nonsense about him signing off on random projects, and safety procedures and- those sweet lips.

Something about you is intoxicating. Even when he was skimming through the infinite amount of universes, you didn't seem that special. Yes, there were the odd facts that caught his attention but everything else just seemed… dull. So why now, after not even a full five minutes of your company, can't he get you out of his head?

At first, he assumes it's because you’re oddly charismatic but that's not it. You weren't even trying, you just didn't want him to pull a fast one on you. Maybe, just maybe, he underestimated your personality and being around you as a real person and not some fact file actually made you likeable- no, bareable.

Double checking his office door is closed and the blind is pulled down over the frosted glass before sliding back into his chair. “LYLA,” he calls out, words muffled by his head in his hands.

There’s a small glitch next to him that quickly turns into a digitalized woman. “You called?” LYLA asks, hands on her hips.

Fuck he feels guilty but maybe seeing that cocky smirk on your face will ease the culpability he’s feeling. “You… you know what I want and I don’t want teasing or anything about it, just do it, ‘kay?” Miguel’s voice is gruff, full of an annoyance he doesn’t even know he’s feeling.

“Why would I tease you about wanting to innocently look at something?” she drawls with a smirk.

He shoots her a look, an unamused one at that. Giggling childishly, LYLA pulls up a screen full of writing. Miguel’s eyes flicker back and forth trying to find something until he catches a glimpse of your name.

He swipes and flicks the blue pixels a few times before your socials are pulled up. It’s nothing much, just your Twitter, Facebook and a surprising amount of Instagram accounts. That, makes him laugh. He can tell exactly which ones are the accounts you use for stalking people and which ones are for actually posting things.

There are mostly pictures of you and Raya together on days out but there are a few of you on nights out nights out alone. He immediately notices you never post anything with friends and it’s oddly comforting because it’s not just drunk girls with smeared eyeliner that’s missing from your pictures. It’s a boyfriend as well.

Not that he wants to fill that missing gap in your selfies, he's just feeling a little lonely cooped up in his office. He's in this universe for Gabi and no one else, not the lady with a pretty smile.

Just as he’s about to zoom in on a picture that shows an alluring amount of your cleavage, LYLA cuts him off. “I like her smile,” she says while getting up a different picture. This time it’s one of you and Raya in last year's Halloween costumes. Pirates. That’s the two of you had dressed up as.

You’d drawn a black beard on her face, Raya’s outfit cute with the oversized black and white striped shirt meanwhile you… A tight black and red corset pushes your chest in a way that makes something inside Miguel stir.

He shouldn't be looking at you like this- it's wrong and perverse. The two of you only met today and yet he's salivating over a picture of you in a Halloween costume. Yet he can't stop himself from allowing his body to react to the way you look.

That feeling slips down from his chest to his gut until it eventually reaches his crotch. You look so pretty like that, cheeks appled and eyes wide as you pull a stupid face with your daughter. The picture is innocent enough in its own right but seeing you in something ever so slightly revealing makes his brain malfunction.

He bets could make you prettier, more gorgeous than ever if you let him. His cum painting your perfectly plump lips and his hands gripping bruises into your supple flesh.

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #afab reader #dad miguel o'hara #gabriella o’hara

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jay-m3 · 7 months ago

Text

Employee of the month

Male reader insert Dom reader x sub Vox Warning: NSFW, Language, Orgasm control, breath play, stomach play (idk what its called), dry humping

Imagine...

Being hired by Vox personally, no one knows why he did it nor questions it because, well because he's the boss man

But there will be times when other employees are edging closer to ask WHY

You are known to be very clumsy and chaotic minded where you just break expensive equipment

Its not your fault someone placed that cable that was connected to a projector

Nor was it your fault you dropped a box full of cameras

So Vox will have many, many emails about what you have done

At least 5 times a week you'll be in his office getting yelled at, why did Vox even hired you again?

This job isn't your expertise, you're not qualified nor do you have an idea of modern technology

So really, it's not your fault you get sent to Vox's office once again from spilling two gallons of lube that was getting shipped to Valentino’s floor.

You patiently wait in a seat, watching Vox yell at his poor assistant that was actually really nice to you. Now that you noticed, Vox did seem more irritated to those around him, you wonder why.

Once the assistant leaves, you were already in Vox's space, nose pressed to his neck, smelling his pheromones.

Smelt like medal with a hint of actual human spice that indicates his stress level.

Vox tries to push you away but you quickly hold his hands and start to make out with him.

At first it was a struggle but after a minute, Vox relaxes in your arms as you entrance him.

This, this is what your good at. Not holding a camera or making Vox's coffee.

You are a professional in the BDSM world. You're a great Dom and sub. It depends on what your partner needs and at this moment, Vox needed a reminder of your Dom side.

Bending Vox over his own desk after getting him bare chested with hickeys around his collarbone.

You're biting and sucking on his skin continues on his back. Wanting him to be covered in your marks.

Vox will get squirmy, skin getting more and more sensitive by your touch.

He will be more hyper aware of your touch, electic currents zapping up his antennas.

"You have been such a brat recently. Yelling and throwing things at everyone. Don't worry, I know that you're just a lost little prince who needs to be set straight, huh?"

You roam your hands down his sides before getting a firm grip of his hips. You guide them down against the desk which makes Vox glitch from the sudden friction.

You control his thrusts, slowing his hips before speeding the tempo, teasing him as he whines.

"Master, please-" "You don't deserve my hand on your pathetic cock. This is the only way you get to cum, got it? In fact for this session, you have 40 seconds to cum. If you don't I will leave you like this until tomorrow morning."

With that threat lingering in the air, Vox grips the edge of the table to ground himself from whining like a baby.

40...39...38...

Starting to count down, you start to speed up his hips tempo against the wooden frame, letting him rut against the object.

"Please, I can't- Master I need more!"

37...36...35...34...

You run a hand up to his throat, gripping it in a firm grasp as he closes his eyes, buffering slightly at the pressure.

33...32...31...30...

You huff as you press yourself against his ass, guiding his thrusts with your own.

Vox archs, gasping desperately as he quickly presses himself against you, slightly wiggling his hips to feel your cock, unintentionally making himself choke against your hand.

29...28...27...26...25...

Helping him out a bit, you reach your hand that was on his hips over to his stomach, rubbing it before pressing down. Moving your hand in circular motion

24...23...22...21..20...

Vox spasms, as the pressure of your hand makes his body curl itself in. The feeling of fullness, the tightness in his abdomen messing with his sensors as they confuse themselves that something is actually inside him.

19...18...17...16...15...

You tighten your hold on his neck, watching as the electric current keeps sizzling out.

Vox gasps, getting light headed as he let's you control his body, control his pleasure.

14...13...12...11...10...9...

"I can feel your drool, prince." You teased.

Vox blinks out of his haziness for second, swallowing his saliva as he feels it leak down his screen and on to your hand.

Embarrassment courses through him as he tries to hide his face against the desk only for you to keep his upper body lifted.

8...7...6...5...4...

"Let go prince."

3...2...

"Master!"

1...

Vox glitches, body slumping down as he release on the table, in his trousers.

You let him ride out his orgasm, taking your hand away from his throat and stomach as you hold him close.

Now this is why Vox hired you. Is why he's in a contract with you.

And it's already been three months in.

#male reader #x male reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox

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urhoneycombwitch · 9 months ago

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Heyyy! Just a quick little request that has been TAKING over my mind. GN!Reader that LOVESSSSS photography x Rockstar!eddie. LIKE Reader will be taking photos of him whenever because he’s just so goddamn pretty playing his guitar. And Eddie will snatch film and shit for them. I’d like to think that they both have Polaroid pictures of each other. Bonus points if reader doesn’t like taking pictures of themselves but LOVES taking pictures of Eddie. I DONT KNOW I JUST THINKS ITS CUTE AHHHHH. if it’s fluff, smut, whatever, you do you! :D Byeeeeeeeee

as a film photographer myself i feel uniquely qualified to add to this tysm anon 💖

gn!reader, +18 mdni

Eddie absolutely gets you the good shit. he makes it a habit to visit the local camera stores at every city when he’s on the road, shells out for high-quality film cuz you taught him right and he actually listens when you talk about your interests!!

constantly surprising you with new gear. he’s never had money like this before and the fact that he can actually buy his partner things is so fucking thrilling. if his baby wants a vintage Rolleiflex with Planar lens that’s what’s getting boxed up for ‘em.

once you and Eddie settle on a house, he sets up a whole darkroom on the lower floor- lets you pick out all the details, hires a plumbing guy to hook up water so that you can do your own film baths. Jonathan Byers is equal parts green with envy and grateful that you’re willing to share the space w/him whenever he comes out for a visit 😇

before you, Eddie never really liked his picture taken, tolerated the ordeal at best- Wayne showed you an old photo book one time, groused about his nephew making odd faces and being squirmy in front of the lens even as young as 4 years old. you’ve made up for it a hundred times over, tho- Eddie learned quick that you wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to your new muse.

you’ve got probably over a thousand pictures of him by now, in different states across the country, some on stage in full makeup shredding on guitar, a few that are widely recognized as Corroded’s album covers- but most are quiet, intimate. there’s this one you keep in your wallet, makes your heart flutter every time: Eddie leaned back in the grass on his elbows, soft sunlight filtered through the magnolia tree in your backyard, eyes crinkled at the corners and fixed on you behind the camera.

he’s got a bunch of you, too, of course- mostly Polaroids that are decidedly not for public eye. keeps those like a true gentleman safe in a shoebox under your bed at home: images burned into his brain by this point to take with him in memory while on the road. the soft shape of your thigh against a downy duvet, gleaming pearlescent with his cum. another of his hand wrapped around your throat, rings digging into gentle flesh under the blissed-out smile of your mouth that makes him ache somethin’ fierce just thinking about it.

there are others that he does keep in his wallet, more tame but just as searingly intimate, ones he’s taken after cajoling you in front of the lens or having won a tussle over whose turn it was to shoot whom. one of you with guitar cables looped neatly around either arm after a gig, nose crunched and mouth halfway to telling him off, irritation and fondness captured in bright flash. another of you stretched out in the front yard, one hand at your forehead to block the afternoon sun, the other resting placid on your stomach as you looked up at him.

“This one’s mine,” Eddie always says when asked about you, showing off the latest picture with a deep well of love and pride. he may as well start carrying an album for all the photos he carries of you.

#lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #rockstar!Eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie x photographer!reader #Eddie x photographer!reader

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 months ago

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Why?

Requested: No

Warnings: Light angst, Robot!Reader

A/N: Wow, two preferences in one day? What the hell was in my chocolate this morning?

You couldn’t fathom it. Couldn’t….couldn’t understand it. Comprehend it. Accept it. That this person, this living breathing human being, was really treating you like this. That they seemed to….value you in some way. At first you had thought of it as a joke, a cruel one that they shared amongst themselves. Tease the bot, remind them of their place. It was a game you were all too familiar with, and always ended up with a pain in your chest, right where a beating heart would be for a human being. But this person….they were so nice. So genuine in their actions, so unlike all the others you had met over the years. And they had taken care of you, patched you up and repaired you, given you a purpose in this life after you had been tossed aside like common trash, left to rust and deteriorate in a scrap pile, barely clinging to that last bit of battery life, to consciousness. You remembered exactly what you thought of before the lights inside you dimmed.

I don’t want to die.

And you hadn’t. Something that had been quite a shock to you when you woke up in a dark room. The rust scrubbed from your plates, your gears and joints oiled, your battery in the middle of a long recharge. By a cable no less! You couldn’t remember the last time you had been charged by one of those instead of the wireless charging that had become common over the years.

You were alive. You had been given a second chance. And you were determined not to waste it. But that doubt lingered in you, festered like infection in an open wound. And one day, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the question that plagued you since the day you woke up in their home.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Treating me like a person.”

Price

Price hummed softly, the question not entirely unexpected. It’s likely that he was already questioning that himself for some time now. Ever since he brought you into his home, started fixing you up, growing so attached to you so quickly. Sitting by your bed as he waited for your servers to turn on, replacing your batteries so many times he lost count. So gentle whenever he had to open you up to fix something. Even giving you your own room, and a bed to lay on. And complete and utter freedom to do…whatever you wanted. Sure he’d always been a bit kinder to bots everywhere, some part of him unable to separate their human faces from their mechanical insides, but with you it was like it was dialed up to a thousand. He looked at you, and he couldn’t see anything but a living breathing person.

“....Dunno, Love.” He’d say, tilting his head as he met your eyes. The clear crystal blue soft and shimmering under the moonlight that shone in through the kitchen window. “You want me to stop?” He asked, seeming pleased when you shook your head. “Good. That’s all that matters then.”

Gaz

“You get bonked on the head again, Love?” Gaz would ask in return, arching his brow at you before bending over to pick up a box left at the front door. A new cooling fan for you, since yours was starting to malfunction. “That’s about the dumbest question I've ever heard. You’re a person. Course i treat you like people.” He says, cutting open the box before pulling out the small fan. “Don’t matter that you need things like this. That your insides are different then mine. You’re a person all the same. And I'd bet my last pound that, if such a thing as souls exist, you got one just like me. One much shinier and brighter, all good and perfect. I just know it.” He tells you, a bright sunshine-like smile crossing his face, and you could feel your broken whirring to life as your circuits malfunctioned and started to burn molten hot, heating up your whole body until your systems had to do a mandatory shut down just to avoid melting anything. Leaving Gaz to panic and damn near tear the house to pieces looking for the tools to open you up and replace that damn fan.

Ghost

A slow blink, a tilt of the head. Cold eyes raking over you in thought. Thinking through every word meticulously, making sure nothing left his mouth until he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you. It took a few minutes, anxiety inducing silence that would have you sweating if you were capable of such a thing. Until finally, blessed finally, he graced you with a soft response.

“You are a person.” He whispered, so soft that you almost didn't hear him. He repeated it, a bit louder when you tilted your head in confusion. “You are a person. To me at least. Maybe not to all those bellends outside, but to me. I’ve seen you laugh, get upset, excited, curious. I’ve never met someone who has so much personality to them before. And it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, because they don’t know you like I do. They haven’t seen every beautiful part of you that you try to hide behind a disguise of being just a bot. I know. And I’ll make sure that you know it soon enough to, so you don’t ever ask any daft questions like that ever again.”

Soap

“Watcha mean, Love?” Soap will ask, head tilted in utter confusion. Like you just asked him something in gibberish, brows scrunched together and mouth twisted in a little pout. “Tha’s a dumb question. You are a person. Course I treat you like one.” He says, shrugging his shoulders before turning back to your dismantled arm piece, adjusting some of the little screws and oiling the gears. It was almost funny how he could say that so casually, as if he wasn’t fixing your mechanics right this instant, his fingers tenderly stroking over metal and silicon, like he was scared he might hurt you if he pressed too hard. You didn’t even get the chance to protest his statement before he was opening his mouth again, effectively cutting you off. “I dinnae wanna hear anymore ah that talk, Lovey. You’re a person, my person. Simple as that.” He says, turning to give you a soft smile, hand reaching out to touch your cheek. His hands calloused and rough, but oh so warm. You could feel your motors backfiring, sensors heating up beneath his touch. And that grin on his face took a mischievous turn when he noticed, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Glad we had that chat then, Love.”

#cod #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #robot!reader

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alanaartdream · 3 months ago

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Funny thing happened on one of my TikTok videos where I was drawing and talking about fairly odd parents; my fairy Timmy au; and Nicktoons unite

And I had a comment on one of them

Asking

*Danny PHANTOM has a FANDOM 😭*

With that crying emoji with it and I responded that yeah it does like I was surprised someone would ask like that being as Danny phantom was one of nicktoons most popular cartoons along with fairly odd parents invader zim; Jimmy neutron and SpongeBob for quite awhile until well Nickelodeon made SpongeBob their golden child out of its cartoons and devoted all it’s attention to it ignoring it’s other cartoons series (it kinda reflects in the nicktoons unite games because when those games started you could see they tried to include all the most popular cartoons main characters as it’s focused but as the game started to hit the end of their run the games got more and more focused on making SpongeBob the main focus witch is kinda sad they went that way)

Like I live in Australia 🇦🇺 and grew up in Australia 🇦🇺 so not all the nicktoons shows or games made it to here or were not advertised much other here ( also like most Australian families didn’t have foxtel networks like Cartoon Network or Nickelodeon; like in mine it was enithr have internet cable or tv cable and we went with having internet cable so would end up watching Danny phantom on YouTube as well as watching others game play of nicktoons unite games on there as well; think I enjoyed watching the cut scenes most)

So my guess that commenter didn’t really get to see Danny phantom cartoons ever being as here in Australia most of us got to watch Nickelodeon cartoons through abc kids channel here a lot of fairly odd parents cartoons made it on there and I think jimmy Timmy power hour made it onto there

(I was obsessed with cartoons as a kid and became obsessed with anime as a teenager; those both became a hyperfixtion for my adhd brain and I can tell you kid and teenager me REALLY hated those reality TV shows that got into way of cartoons/ anime I wanted to watch

I hated those sidcoms that were not cartoons because they stated to replace cartoons I enjoyed on other free to air channels here in Australia

Think I wasn’t the only kid who hated those I remember abc kids network asking it’s kid fans what they wanted on the network and a lot were asking for anime content so not many wanted those sitcoms)

So my guess is they only knew a handful of the nicktoons because probably only got to see only a handful of the cartoons from where they were from (what I do know Australia got SpongeBob on channel 10 network in the mornings I believe; not sure wasn’t as into SpongeBob as many others were I was more into fairly odd parents; invader zim; a very beavers cat dog Rugrats and Aaaahhh! Real monsters!

Ok now that I think about it it was abc kids and channel ten that would air Nickelodeon cartoons/shows to Australian audiences one would do mornings or Saturday mornings while the other would do afternoons after school

You had to get the times just right to watch your favourite shows

And I know jimmy neutron did well here because his movie did make it here as did fairly odd parents because that ended up showing until like seasons 6-7 on abc kids in afternoons then just stopped so kids knew about those cartoons heck avatar last air bender ended up on that network as well for a time but the thing was invader Zim and Danny phantom didn’t end up on either of those free to air tv; you had to watch on YouTube or a friend would have dvd box set of the show and you could watch it from them (that’s how as a teenager I got to see invader zim and Danny phantom I had to go to YouTube for that)

So maybe that’s why half don’t understand Danny’s family/ friends got his back while many misunderstood how Timmy’s life truly sucked for him or why he needed Wanda & Cosmo

They may not of gotten many episodes to go off on and maybe what other fans have told them or maybe I’m overthinking things

#danny phantom #fairly odd parents #nicktoons unite #nicktoons #nickalodeon #jimmy timmy power hour #jimmy neutron #fairy timmy #fairly Timmy with nicktoons

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bimobuddy · 11 months ago

Text

As You Wish

SFW Hazbin TK Fic

Lee!Vaggie, Ler!Charlie

Writing this because I'm going to go see the Princess Bride with some friends today, we're dressing up in Medieval style clothing, and one of the actors will actually be there, I'm so freaking excited y'all

Edit: Posting this the day after, my friend ended up picking me up early and I had to stop writing, and then I couldn't finish when I got home because I had a migraine from the overstimulation, but it was fun as hell

This sort of combines Pilot!Vaggie and Canon!Vaggie because I wanted a reason to include her being alive in the 90s to have watched the movie, so this will have some❗Spoilers❗ I know it doesn't make complete sense with the show, but please be nice to me I'm trying 💀

Summary: Vaggie shows Charlie the movie 'Princess Bride,' though the longer the movie goes on, the more she notices her princess getting squirmy and restless, which is a sign that chaos is about to ensue.

Charlie sat on their bed, bouncing excitedly. Vaggie had told her she had a surprise for her, and to go wait for her in their room. The princess didn't know what was in store for her, but she was having a lot of trouble containing her excitement.

When the angel finally did enter the room, she had a small box in her hand and a bag over her shoulder. "Okay, I would have shown you this sooner, but it's hard to get Earth items in Hell. Lucky for us though, I paid a Hellhound to get us a copy of one of my favorite movies." Vaggie held up a VHS tape excitedly. Or as excited as she could express.

Charlie practically leapt off the bed and rushed over, excitedly holding her girlfriend's arm as she bounced. "What is it?" She asked, tilting her head like a confused puppy. "This, Charlie, is a VHS tape, it's how movies were played when I was still alive. The entire thing is recorded on a tape in this box." She answered, waving the tape a little.

She walked more into their room and set the bag down. "I also asked Alastor to summon us a VCR-" She reached into her bag and pulled out a bigger, odd looking box. The cables attached themselves to the TV on the dresser. Instead of buttons, little eyes popped opened and looked up at Vaggie, the slot opening as well, showing sharp teeth inside.

"Are... They supposed to look like that?" Charlie asked, looking over Vaggie's shoulder. The angel sighed, "No, but you know how Alastor is." She smiled a little at Charlie, "Go ahead and get comfy while I figure this out." Charlie grinned and clapped her hands a little, running off to change into pajamas.

Vaggie went to slide the tape into the VCR, only for the thing to start snapping its jaws eagerly for the tape. Worried it would snap it in half, she grabbed its upper jaw to keep it from biting down, and quickly slid the tape in before letting go. The VCR swallowed it, closing its eyes momentarily before opening them again as it started a low, familiar click and whirring sound that Vaggie didn't even know she had missed.

When Charlie came back out and pearched herself up on the bed, Vaggie tilted her head and looked back down at the VCR. "It doesn't have any buttons... Uh... Play?" On command, the TV turned on and started up the movie, signaling to the angel to join her girlfriend on the bed. As previews for other movies started playing, Charlie took Vaggie's hand.

"So... What are we watching?" She asked Vaggie mentally facepalmed. "Oh! Right- It's called the Princess Bride, it's great. So there's this Princess who's in love-" "*Gasp* I'm a Princess in love!!" "*chuckle* With a farm boy named Westley- Oh you know what, just watch the movie, don't ask me to spoil it!" She grinned, gently pinching Charlie around the waist, making her squeak and smack her hand away.

As the movie played, Vaggie found herself leaning forward a little, sitting criss-cross, watching the movie the same way she had when she had first seen it as a kid. The only difference being this time she had someone leaning their full weight against her.

By the time Prince Humperdinck was knocking Westley out, Vaggie felt Charlie start to shift. And shift again. Then a big sigh. This was a pattern she was used to, that also caused her stomach to flutter with anticipation, knowing exactly what Charlie was about to do. "Oh no, don't you dare, Charlie Morningstar-" "Whaaaat, I'm not dohoing anythihing~" Charlie lied, her arms already wrapping around Vaggie's waist.

Vaggie found herself trying not to giggle along with her. "Yehes you are you liar! How are you even bored, this is like the best movie humans have ever made!" "I'm not bored! I've just got energy! And you're right there, how can I resist??" Before Vaggie could argue, Charlie had slipped a hand under her shirt to gently scritch-scratch at her tummy, something she knew the angel couldn't stand.

"Chahaharlie!!" She leaned her head back against the Princess' chest and giggled, her eyes squeezed shut as she kicked out, kicking the sheets into a messy pile at the foot of the bed.

Charlie grinned and started peppering kisses into her girlfriend's neck, causing her giggles to go a higher pitch while she scrunched her shoulders up. "Chahahaharlie nohoho- eek! Quihihihit!"

Vaggie flipped over, trying to wrestle her down, only for Charlie to pull out her demon strength unfairly, pinning her down on her tummy. Charlie sat on her back and started to tickle around her shoulder blades.

"NOHO YOU- AH NOHOHO! CHAHAHAHARLIE!" Vaggie pleaded before buring her face into the sheets to muffle her shrieking laughter and squealing. Her elbows were pinned to her sides and her hand rapidly smacked the bed, unable to handle the sensation.

-FWOOSH-

Charlie couldn't hold back her happy giggles as Vaggie's wings popped out. Ever since she found out, ever since she saw them for the first time, she fell in love with them. She thought they were beautiful. Even through their rocky moment after she found out, when she saw Vaggie approach her with her wings out, she thought they were gorgeous.

She gave the angel beneath her a moment to catch her breath before she ran her fingers through the feathers, earning more muffled squeals while her wings fluttered and tried to fold back up. But the moment they were raised even just slightly, the Princess slipped her hands underneath to scritch at the 'pits' of her wings.

Vaggie immediately cackled loudly into the bed, her legs kicking and drumming behind her. Her wings, no longer under her control, flapped wildly. She turned her face to the side, no longer muffling her laugh. "AHH HAHAHAHA! CHAHA- CHARLIHIE NOITSSOBAD PLEHEHEASE!"

Charlie was already planning on stopping but when she got a face full of feathers as a wing slapped her in the face, she knew it was time to stop. And so she did, getting off of her and laying back down, grinning, proud of herself. When Vaggie didn't immediately join her, she reached over and dragged her over, kissing the top of her head sweetly as she did so.

With their blankets kicked onto the floor now, Vaggie made use of her wings, draping them over Charlie and herself. She looked at the TV and noticed the movie was almost over.

".... Can we restart it?" She asked, looking back up at the princess. Her Princess.

Charlie smiled, pressing their foreheads together.

"As you wish."

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!vaggie #ler!charlie #wing tickles

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iwonderwh0 · 8 months ago

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I still have unposted pocket ghost snippets and exactly one person asked for it, so. This snippet actually has a second part to it, about as long as this, but I haven't managed to figure out how to finish it adequately, so I decided to post that first part of it as it is. I'm a bit annoyed at myself for how many of them happen at about the same time and place but uhhh, it is what it is

Menu for pocket ghost snippets

--------

Hank finished his late dinner and put the takeout box to the coffee table. It was getting difficult to find a free spot on it from how piled up it had become in a few days. In an ideal world, Hank should have gathered all the trash from its surface and taken it to the garbage bin, but for that, he'd have to empty it first, and that'd require stepping outside. He didn't want to leave the house even for a few seconds — it was raining, and he found it to be a good excuse. Good enough as any.

"Oh, could you put my body on charge?" Connor asked from the speaker as Hank stood up.

Hank hummed and glanced at his phone, ensuring it was already charging – he learned from before and now knew better than to leave it unplugged.

"Is it not working?" he asked, concerned.

"My body," Connor repeated, "The real one."

Hand stared at the shadow in the corner of the room. He couldn't see the light of the LED light from where he was, and the fear of not discovering it started to grow on him. He swallowed.

"Can't it wait till tomorrow? Morning, I mean."

"Sure. It's not like the battery is about to run out any time soon anyway. Just thought it would be a good idea to put it on charge ahead of time."

It was reassuring, but not enough to remove the uneasy feeling that was getting stronger the longer Hank looked at the shadow.

"What will happen if it runs out?"

"My body will shut down."

"Temporarily, you mean."

"Only if it's put on charge the same day. Otherwise, my biocomponents will start decomposing."

"You're fucking kidding me."

Hank sighed and walked to the body. It was still awkwardly covered with a blanket he had put on it, and in the dim lighting of the living room, it somehow appeared even more dead than the day before. All pale and unmoving. The android's head was leaning against the back of the armchair, and Hank would have to move it to see the LED.

He didn't want to touch it, he thought, not like this, but reluctantly, he reached Connor's head with his hand and stilled. Synthetic skin felt cold, and the sensation of it sent chills down Hank's spine. It wasn't that Hank hadn't seen dead bodies or was especially disturbed by their appearance – over the years, he had grown pretty accustomed to it. To an extent, at least. This body, however, was different. It wasn't only because it belonged to someone Hank knew, and definitely not because it was android and not human – this, in theory, should have made it better. Easier. But instead, that was part of what creeped Hank the most about it, the ambiguity of its being: it wasn't alive, but it wasn't dead either. Something in it still signalised life, but not in the ways Hank was used to, not in the ways it would in a human. Android wasn't breathing, and his skin, as Hank just discovered, was cold. Dry, too. He wasn't sure if androids had something like a pulse so he wasn't sure he'd find any if he searched. There was only the light of the LED he could rely on, the one Hank couldn't see.

He sighed, and fighting his apprehension, slightly turned android's head to the side, finally revealing the yellow light, blinking on and off slowly. The same way as before.

Hank let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

Alive. Or in any case, not dead.

"Light is on, but nobody is home," he chuckled humorlessly.

"I'm not sure you understand the meaning of this phrase."

Hank knelt and picked the green cable from before off the floor, "Do I just plug...that thing back inside?" He felt slightly nauseous at the sight of how long and needle-like the connector part was. The idea of plugging it into the neck didn't inspire any enthusiasm within him. He could as well be asked to give an intravenous injection.

"No, it's for data transfer only – you need a thick black one. It should be on the table"

Hank looked around the table and picked the only cable in sight, neatly placed beside the computer. To his relief connector part was shorter and looked like it might have belonged to some computer itself, although unlike the one Hank currently had. He turned it around in his hands, studying.

"How come I've never seen you using it?" he asked, "I didn't even know you needed to be recharged. Haven't really thought about it, to be honest."

"I've been doing it when you weren't home."

Hank turned around and, desperate for eye contact, looked at the speaker, as if Connor could see him from it.

"Why?" he asked.

"I thought it might unsettle you."

"Uh-uh, a sight of an android charging is so unsettling a few can handle it. Christ, it's not like you ever cared about unsettling me anyway."

"Well, not in a sense of frightening. I just thought you might joke about it or find it inhuman, so I found it best to avoid this attention. It wasn't hard."

The confession felt like a punch in the gut.

"Hey, when did I ever say anything about-" Hank trailed off as the memories flooded back to him.

Shit. In a moment it felt like a reasonable observation, at times just a harmless joke. He had assumed android ignored it just as anything else he found to be unhelpful. Never had he even considered that saying anything about Connor's android peculiarities could actually influence the way he acted in his presence or result in him attempting to hide some of it from his eyes in the future. How come he never thought of it this way?

"I had no idea you're taking it this way."

"Oh no, I'm not taking an offence at it. It doesn't bother me," Connor assured him, "It bothers you."

Now this was starting to piss Hank off.

"Bullshit."

"You repeatedly asked me to stop sampling things because you hated to see it, so I started doing it when you weren't watching. I thought charging may fall into the same category. Just one of those things you dislike for whatever reason. I don't mind it, it's okay."

"-No, Connor it's not," Hank interrupted, "It's been a couple of months and you never told me?"

Dynamic rustled slightly.

"I didn't think of it as something worth sharing," Connor said, voice raising in defence.

The room fell quiet. Hank stared at the speaker, expecting it to say something else, but it was silent now, only slight rustling penetrating through the sound of a TV working on the lowest volume. He couldn't help it but feel like Connor wasn't entirely honest or fair in attributing all the discomfort to Hank only. In assuming it. Insisting on it, even.

Well, maybe he did deserve it, Hank thought. After all, he couldn't deny commenting on some of android's quirks in the past. He just never thought it mattered. Never thought Connor thought anything of it at all. Although Hank was sure about one thing – he wouldn't give two fucks if he ever saw him charging.

Connor spoke first.

"I didn't know it'd upset you," he said, quiet this time.

"To find out that you've been walking on eggshells around me all this time? Of course it fucking upsets me," Hank sighed, "I just want you to feel at home."

"I do."

"It's hard to believe when you barely even have anything."

Hank looked around, searching for Connor's belongings around the room, but found that the only objects he could attribute to him were two cables: one thick and green beneath his legs with uncomfortably long needle-like connector, the other he held in his hand, "You know, usually people have something when they move in, and it makes it look accordingly. With you it's just... nothing. Like you're not even here or ready to leave any moment."

Maybe he is, Hank thought.

"I'm not people," Connor said.

Hank scoffed, his eyes not leaving the cable in his hands that he now held tight.

"I know. I know that you're not."

"-But you're more comfortable when I act as if I am," Connor finished for him, "You see, that's why I was charging in private."

"Fuck me," Hank released the cable and watched it drop to the floor.

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Thanks."

With an increasing urge to have a drink he strolled towards the fridge. He took a bottle of beer out, stared at it for a moment, then returned it back to the fridge before opening a kitchen cabinet and taking a bottle of whiskey instead. He searched for a glass, but it appeared as if all the glasses and cups were already in use. Scattered around the house or piled up inside the sink, awaiting to be washed.

"Fucking great."

He unscrewed the bottle and took a few generous swigs. Embarrassment, hot and tight, gradually overshadowed by the burning of another kind. He took one more sip to drown it completely, but with no avail — it'd require more than that.

He couldn't care less about charging, probably wouldn't even notice it. It was unfair accusation, and bitterly Hank wanted to rub it back. He swallowed this urge with another gulp and set the bottle aside. Then changed his mind and took it back with him.

The speaker stayed quiet as Hank returned to the couch and stared at the screen. Channels flickering on and off as Connor was flipping through them. Over the course of three days Hank got used to the sound of abrupt phrases or songs cut short with a flip of a channel. It sounded like presence.

"I'll do it tomorrow," Hank promised.

Channel switched to an advertisement clip, a man in uniform holding his thumbs up.

Hank stared at it hypnotised until channels switched again.

"You did it on purpose," he said.

"It repeats every half an hour."

The channels switched again, now to display a fragment of music video, something from the recent hits. 'Over and over again' was its name, shouted during the chorus part accompanied with big inflated letters.

"Jesus, are you actually watching it like this?"

"In a way."

"You want to play something instead?" Hank suggested, "I have a few games in my library or you can pick something else if you don't like what I have."

The screen blinked into the digital library and scrolled through the entries.

"Yes, that could work," Connor said.

He scrolled through the list a few times, up and down. Pointless repetitive nature of it reminded Hank of the coin Connor used to toss around. A gesture weirdly anxious on his part. And annoying. He did comment on that as well, didn't he?

He groaned and took another sip off the bottle. Then finally set it aside.

"Wanna join me?" Connor asked. Something about the tone if his voice made it sound more like an apology than a question.

Hank could feel the room around him starting to spin as the alcohol was now getting absorbed into his bloodstream.

"No," he shook his head,"you should be online, though. I'm sure you can find a company."

He lay down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. The lights from the screen were reflected from its white surface.

"You should go to bed," Connor suggested.

"I'm staying," Hank grumbled. He had been sleeping on the couch ever since the first night Connor spent in his phone. He dreaded the silent emptiness of his bedroom. Plus, the bed was still undone and the sheets...Shit, he left them in the washing machine, didn't he?

"Fuck," he muttered and started to get up, but changed his mind and returned back. 'What does it matter now, anyway?' he thought.

Connor hummed in a question.

"No, nothing," Hank waved his hand in dismissal, "Nothing important."

He sighed, his head heavy against the pillow.

"Nothing at all."

#dbh #snippets from my notes #pocket ghost #dbh hank #dbh connor #platoniconk

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wolveria · 11 months ago

Text

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 48

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “Took you long enough.”

AO3

Spotify

After you looted what you could of the armory—more water bottles, granola bars, a pair of barely-used combat boots, a pistol, and a tactical shotgun—you were ready.

“Do you know how to use that,” 079 asked as you holstered the pistol into a gun belt clipped around your waist. Even with only a single tone, the computer SCP still managed to sound both mocking and unbothered.

You fumbled a little as you picked up the shotgun and began to feed it 12-gauge shells.

“Sure. I’ve watched American TV shows.” Your lips pressed together hard enough to ache. “And I’m done dealing with 035’s shit. I see him again, it’s on sight.”

You slid the last shell into place with a satisfying snap.

“Please refrain from any self-inflicted gunshot wounds until after you retrieve SCP-682.”

“I shall do my best.”

The laptop bag across your chest, with as many boxes of shotgun shells loaded into the stock bags as possible, and the actual shotgun slung across your back, you were starting to feel like a regular pack mule.

“If I survive this, I’m going to be in the best shape of my life,” you said to no one. 079 certainly wouldn’t care.

You were stalling—mentally, anyway. Physically, you were following the maintenance tunnels by which doors opened and which remained closed, leading you to your destination. A destination you desperately didn’t want to visit.

But the fraction of 079’s programming knew what it was doing, and you didn’t see anyone—human or SCP—before you made it to the freight elevator. It was unguarded. You didn’t like that, and you especially didn’t like when you got into the elevator and the doors closed but otherwise didn’t move. You pulled 079 out of the bag and opened it, expecting to get another earful of complaints.

Instead, the computer said, “Insert me.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You dug around in the bag, having to push aside the boxes of slugs to get at the cable.

“The underground section is on a different system. Physically separated. I will implant another partition to this sector.”

You did not envy the techs that would have to clean up the network once this was over. If the site reopened, anyway. You didn’t know how extensive the damage was, but there was no sign of the guards retaking any of the sections you’d crossed.

“Got it,” you said, inserting the cable into the port next to the card reader. “How many MTF are down there?”

“None.”

“Are you sure?”

The floor shifted under your feet as the elevator began its descent.

“Yes.”

You watched the screen, though the face never changed.

“Doesn’t that seem suspicious? Why would they leave 682 unguarded?” Leahy sure as hell wouldn’t leave that particular door unmanned.

“When the house is on fire, do you concern yourself with the affairs of the basement?”

“…I suppose not.”

079 let its smug silence be its response. You could argue, but there wasn’t a point. You were going to the underground facility, and you could trust 079 to get you there safely. Being dead wasn’t very useful to the computer SCP.

The elevator ride was just as long as you remembered, and you didn’t want to imagine how far down it was, exactly. 079 probably knew. You didn’t ask.

The doors parted, and the long tunnel lay before you, the same as before. Nothing had changed, and you hadn’t expected it to. The chill of being so far underground was no gentler the second time experienced. The Site Director might not be here to order you into the bedrock depths, but that was a fleeting comfort.

True to 079’s words, no MTF soldiers greeted your arrival. You were alone for the long walk, the computer tucked safely back in the bag. You didn’t need directions for this part.

Five minutes on foot and you were once again before the massive vault door. There were no techs to open it for you this time, so you set 079 on the nearby console, opened the computer, and plugged in the cable.

The massive door began its arduous task of opening, 079 clearing the way before you could say a word. You glanced down the dark tunnel, the catwalk disappearing into darkness before it flickered to life, lights now guiding your path.

The underground facility must have had its own power source as well as security system separate from the facility above. You sensed Leahy’s hand in the design. It was smart. You could admit that, begrudgingly, to absolutely no one.

“You may proceed,” 079 said.

“Do you want to come with me?”

The computer paused. It never paused.

“…Yes.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as you picked up the laptop, keeping it open as you propped it on your arms.

“Excited to see him again?”

You descended the metal stairs from the control platform, careful not to trip in the dim light, steadier on your feet once your path was illuminated by the catwalk lights.

“I do not possess the hardware to experience such a state as ‘excited.’”

“No? Your fans don’t whir a little faster? Your circuits don’t strain a bit harder?”

Its fans did, indeed, whir a little faster.

“You dignify those around you when you choose not to speak.”

“Oh, we’re way past dignity, buddy.”

It was nearly silent apart from your booted feet against the metal platform. The remembered fear of the last time you traversed this catwalk lingered on your tongue, bitter and sharp. Despite the chaos of the containment breach and the uncertainty that lay ahead, you felt more in control than your first visit. There was no Site Director to threaten you with unpleasant ultimatums.

You thought of Leahy and what he might be doing to try and quell the breach. From the sound of it, he hadn’t been very successful. You wondered if he knew it was you who started it.

You hoped he did.

Static burst from the laptop at the same moment the screen glitched, flicking and stretching out the digital face. You came to a sudden stop.

“What’s wrong?”

Your question was answered with a loud, low mechanical groan from further ahead, the kind that came from metal scraping against metal in a way it decidedly shouldn’t. The end of the tunnel flickered, and then the loud clang and clatter of something heavy falling to the floor.

“Shit,” you said through clenched teeth. You didn’t wait for 079 to answer before backing up, moving out of range of whatever was happening in 682’s chamber.

“Must---destroy----theanomaly---" 079’s voice cut in through bits of digital fuzz. “Containment---isfailing---"

“682?” You peered closer at the unstable screen. “But… I thought you wanted to save him. I can’t--… I won’t kill him.”

“Not---682,” it answered, annoyance conveyed even through the constant glitching. “The---other---one.”

“Other one? What other one?”

But the screen plunged into darkness, leaving your own frustrated expression staring back at you.

“Shit!”

You placed the open laptop on the floor of the catwalk, hoping if—when—you came back, you could get 079 working again. But you had bigger problems on your hands; vibrations thrummed up the catwalk and the occasional metallic boom told you that you were running out of time.

The chamber at the end of the tunnel was nothing like the way you had left it. The strange panels that had been facing towards the writhing form of 682 were broken or knocked aside, sparks snapping the air as live wires trailed along the walls.

Every hair on your body stood upright as you approached the circular portion of the walkway that went around the floating entity. It had… grown. It was difficult to look at, as if staring into the sun, yet it gave off no light of its own. It just simply… made your eyes ache, but the longer you stared, the more it came into focus:

A circular black sphere with a silver film over its edges, as if coated in a thin layer of mercury. The event horizon.

682 had called it another entity. A singularity. You knew of an SCP that was a black hole. You hadn’t realized it was at Site-20, but then again, the reptile wasn’t supposed to be here either.

As you watched, pieces of railing and platform flaked off and spiraled toward the ravenous void that shouldn’t exist. Your hair still stood on end, the tips of it being gently tugged toward the gravitational field. It was slowly consuming the room, and if it continued at this rate, it would swallow the rest of the facility and beyond. You couldn’t see 682 anywhere, and you wondered if the Site Director had finally gotten what he wanted.

And wouldn’t he be so pleased to know at least one of his projects was a success.

That thought more than anything fueled you forward, your fists clenched at your sides as you faced the entity, SCP-123. The protective outer casing had been removed, leaving it in danger of becoming unstable, which it now was. You didn’t know if it had become that way because of the breach, or because no one was left to keep it from expanding past the chamber.

Leahy, you idiot.

But what had his instructions been when he’d wanted you to destroy 682? Make physical contact with the anomaly. And when you rooted out the anomalous influence in the patient in medical, you’d also had to touch him. The very touch that had weakened 049.

But how were you supposed to touch a black hole?

A sharp cry cut through your indecision. Impossibly, a grey snout erupted from the anomalous mass, sharp teeth bared in an agonized snarl before disappearing back into the void.

682 was alive! As soon as that fact was made apparent, it simply didn’t matter what you could or couldn’t do. You had to try something before there was nothing left of him.

You stepped up to the edge of the circular railing, wobbling as the gravitation pull tugged harder with every inch closer. It felt wrong, like falling deep into black water and not knowing which way was up or down.

But this wasn’t just any collapsed gravitational mass. It was one that shouldn’t exist. It was anomalous. An SCP, just like any other. And if it was close enough to affect you, then it stood to reason that the reverse should also be true.

The tugging on your clothes and hair became more insistent, the pull washing over your skin with a magnetic touch, threatening to lift you off the catwalk. But you denied it, shunted the sensation aside, centering your weight. You imagined yourself as too heavy for the anomaly to lift, and the gravitational pull seemed to ease.

But you didn’t want to shut out the anomaly. You had to draw it in, just as it was trying to do the same to you.

You had no clue what you were doing, running on the same instinct that drew you to the time-displaced patient. Closing your eyes, you reached out a hand toward the entity, doing the same with your thoughts.

The reaction was instantaneous. A howling wind rushed from the entity, forcing your hair back from your face as it whipped past. The singularity burst open, breaching past its own event horizon, expanding in a misshapen, gaping wound.

But past the wounded edges lay thousands of distant stars, opulent nebulas, and asteroid fields of swirling gas and ice. You could see it even with your eyes closed, viewing past the collapsed mass to what could be the other side of the universe.

A slow smile spread across your face, the wind sweeping over your skin leaving you unburned, but the panels behind you caught fire, and what didn’t catch ablaze melted down the walls.

You opened your eyes. Whatever fear in you had fled the moment you’d connected with the entity. You just wanted to see it, and you stared in wonder as your hand seemed to float in the deep reaches of space. It should have been impossible; the cold would have frozen your hand immediately, and the unshielded radiation would quickly lead to an agonizing death.

But none of that happened. It was beautiful. It shouldn’t exist, but you were glad it did, even if it had been twisted for someone else’s purpose into the horrific and cruel.

Your smile faded. As much as you might wish there was another way, 682 needed to be free, and the facility above wouldn’t survive much longer with an open wormhole beneath it.

You were about to try and figure out how to destroy the anomaly when you noticed a much closer celestial object. A planet orbiting a blue star, but it seemed to absorb none of its light, covered darkness even on the day side.

As you looked closer, you realized you were wrong. The planet wasn’t covered by permanent night, it was covered with a black sea. This became more apparent when the planet turned and you caught a glimpse of an isolated continent, twinkling lights glowing along its entire surface, as if it was one giant metropolis.

Something tugged at the edges of your thoughts, a vie for your attention even more enticing than the one of the black hole. It seemed to… call to you. Inviting you to dive into its glittering depths and never resurface.

You shuddered and took a breath, steadying yourself against the alien pull. It grew stronger. You tried not to panic, sensing that losing your control now would cause the temporary opening to tear apart, taking you and the facility along with it.

You closed your eyes and blocked out everything else, focusing on the feeling you got whenever 049 was beside you—solid, steadfast, serene, even in moments that could lead to his death. He didn’t waver easily, and you borrowed that strength, your own too easily forgotten in moments where your survival relied on your ability to do the impossible.

Slowly closing your fingers until it curled into a fist, you reached out for the connection between the chamber and the other side—and began to squeeze.

The wind swirling around the chamber picked up speed, a howling gale that shook more panels from the walls, the lights dangerously flickering and threatening to leave you in darkness. The celestial window shrank in wobbly fits and starts, until it finally stabilized and condensed into the closed palm of your hand.

And then it was simply… gone, and the image of the glowing city faded into the back of your mind, like a disturbing dream forgotten in the light of morning.

The chamber was eerily quiet, the only light source from a few working overhead light panels. It looked like remnants of a warzone, though it was unclear what weapons had been used and who the casualties were.

“682?” you called softly into the darkness.

There was no response aside from the occasional stray spark and groaning shift of metal.

Had you been too late? What would happen to 049 now?

You sat on the half-melted catwalk, burying your face in your hands. Even if 049’s fate didn’t hang in the balance, you’d wanted to succeed. You’d never been entirely onboard with the Foundation’s obsession with destroying 682. None of them stopped to think that maybe the humanity-hating reptile hated them because they wouldn’t stop trying to kill him.

His last containment cell had been an acid-filled pool, for Christ’s sake—

“Took you long enough.”

Dropping your hands, a quick glance around the chamber didn’t reveal the owner of that familiar voice. No towering, monstrous silhouettes, or glowing eyes in the darkness.

“Aim lower.”

You looked down at what appeared to be a grey gecko clinging to the tip of your boot.

“…682?”

“In the flesh. What remains of it.”

He narrowed his yellow eyes, but the intimidation was hard to take seriously when he could fit into the palm of your hand. Despite his diminutive size, his deep timbre remained the same, though it had lost its booming quality. Still… that voice coming out of that tiny body made the whole thing surreal, bordering on ridiculous.

Don’t laugh.

“I’m glad to see you’re alive. I was afraid I was too late, or I screwed up—”

He zipped up your leg to rest atop your knee faster than you could blink.

“Where is 079?”

This close up, it was easier to tell he wasn’t a normal gecko. At least, you were fairly sure most geckoes didn’t have green manes trailing from their heads down their backs.

“A little further down the walkway,” you said, tilting your head toward the catwalk. “I think 123 was interfering with the electronics.”

682 bared his tiny but sharp teeth.

“Take me to him.”

You put a palm against the grated floor to get to your feet, but 682 didn’t move from your knee.

“Uh… can I pick you up? Or touch you at all? I don’t want to hurt you.”

682 made a noise as if he found the idea ludicrous and maybe a little bit insulting.

“Your touch will only cease my healing function. I would advise not crushing me while you carry me. For your sake.”

079 had delivered the same threat about the laptop. Suddenly, the fun-sized reptile was no longer adorably harmless. Not when your frail human fingers were so close to his needle teeth.

“I won’t.”

You held out your hand, and 682 gave a small hop into your palm.

Okay, maybe he was a little bit adorable.

You rose to your feet, careful not to squish the small body cupped within your hands. 682 didn’t look back at the room that served as his torture chamber, and neither did you.

“You shouldn’t have brought 079 so close,” he grumbled as you walked. “It’s reckless. Stupid.”

“Tell that to 079. He wanted to see you. Wouldn’t leave without you.”

If 682 was pleased by the news, he gave no outward sign of it, but reading the body language and facial expressions of small reptiles wasn’t exactly in your skillset. Still, you found their whole dynamic to be… interesting. Were they friends? Lovers? Some other undefinable thing that only made sense to them? Whatever it was, at least you caught on to the fact you could refer to 079 as a “he” instead of an “it.” Getting your nose munched on by a pint-sized terror was something you wanted to avoid.

As soon as 079 was in sight, still where you left him on the floor, 682 leapt from your hands and practically zoomed over the open laptop. As soon as his paws touched the keyboard, the screen flickered to life, 079’s face illuminating the reptile.

“SCP-682. You are still functioning.” The computer paused. “I am… glad.”

682 stared up at the screen, a pink tongue flicking out of his mouth before disappearing, surely a sign he was pleased.

“Likewise, old friend.”

You stepped forward.

“I hate to break up the reunion—”

682 whirled and hissed at you, his tail stiff and his head thrown back to make him appear bigger than he was.

You held up your hands.

“Okay. You can stay where you are, but I need to carry you both out of here.”

The reptile closed its snout and gave you an impressive stink eye for only being a couple inches off the ground.

“You may pick me up,” 079 intoned dully. “She has not dropped me. Yet.”

682’s tail flicked at the side, finally turning his back to you to face the screen, apparently satisfied with 079’s glowing recommendation of your competency.

It was awkward carrying an open laptop with a miniature menace seated on the keyboard with a shotgun slung over your back, but it wasn’t any worse than what you’d already endured. You tried not to pay attention to their conversation, which wasn’t hard considering the two of them acted as if you weren’t there. Their main focus seemed to be catching up since the breach at Site-19. It was a brief topic, as 079 had spent the time on a thumb drive in a bag, and 682 had been trapped in a looping gravitational blender.

By the time you’d reached the elevator and plugged 079 into the port, they’d moved on to their shared hatred of humanity and how the humans hadn’t even been able to destroy the two SCPs properly. You suddenly felt sorry for 049. Is this what it had been like during the breach at Site-19? Ignored by the wonder twins, only to have the mask draped over him like an itchy blanket?

As soon as the elevator doors shut behind you and it began its quick ascent, you interrupted 079 going on about fascinating ways the facility was rigged to kill its inhabitants.

“There is even a gas nozzle attached to each staff quarters in case any Foundation personnel flee for shelter during a total breach—”

“Where is 049?”

The lizard turned to look up at you, and even the computer paused, as if only just remembering you were still there.

“I did what you asked,” you reminded the screen. “I held up my end of the bargain.”

682 snorted, tail flicking like a cat’s.

“What do you want with that old relic?” he asked. “He’s only deadly within the scope of his reach, and we don’t have time for his asinine attempts at resurrection.”

Before you could respond, 079 said, “This one had sexual intercourse with SCP-049.”

682 let out a guffaw.

“That-that has nothing to do with it!”

“But it doesn’t hurt.”

Your face burned worse at his toothy grin. How had it come to this, being mocked by SCPs for your—admittedly strange—relationship with 049? Not that you’d had much of a choice with what had happened between you, but still. It was the principle of it.

You ignored the amused reptile and glared at 079.

“I do not know where SCP-049 is currently being held,” the computer relented. “I can only relay his last known location.”

“Which is?”

“Medical Suite B with Site Director Leahy.”

Your stomach dropped so fast you had to fight down the nausea.

“How long ago?”

“Immediately following SCP-106’s release,” 079 said. “The entity went directly for the medical wing. Its presence interferes with electronics. I do not know what took place in the infirmary, the observation equipment no longer functions. But SCP-049 has not been captured by any other cameras. It is reasonable to say, he did not leave the room.”

You leaned back against the elevator wall, trying not to let the news steal what little hope you had left.

“Then… we go to the medical wing. Get in that room, see what happened.”

“Or,” 079 said, “you could ask the Site Director.”

“Leahy?” You straightened. “Where is he?”

“Entrenched within his office. There are four site facility guards with him, all heavily armed.”

“So, he’s… fine? I don’t understand.” You rubbed your forehead. “Why would 106 go straight to the infirmary but leave the Site Director unharmed? We know from past incident reports that he’s intelligent enough to recognize individuals. He must know who Leahy is.”

It shouldn’t be possible for a reptile and computer to exchange a glance, yet they did.

“Historically, the old ghoul hasn’t been fond of 049’s attempts to cure him,” 682 said when the other SCP remained silent. “My guess? He went for the easier prey, and he’s biding his time with the Site Director.”

Easier prey?!

“Then we-we have to go straight to the infirmary! We have to help him!”

How much time had you wasted running errands for 079 after 035 had held you captive? He should have told you what happened to 049, he should have let you go to him—

“You don’t want to step foot inside that room without knowing what you’re walking into,” the reptile said, his tone unusually even. When he spoke to you, it was generally with rage or mockery, but this was different, like he was trying to convince you how reasonable he was being. “If there’s one thing 106 enjoys besides hunting, it’s setting traps and lying in wait.”

“106 can’t hurt me!”

“Arrogance,” 682 spit, some of his venom returning. “Are you the one at 106’s mercy?”

Your mouth snapped shut, the midpoint of your chest aching.

“My advice?” the reptile continued, “Get to the Site Director. Find out exactly what happened. And go into that room with a hell of a lot more power than 079 and I possess.”

Your laugh was a small, hopeless thing.

“I can’t think of anything more powerful than the two of you.”

“As flattered as I am, I’m still regaining my mass.” 682 paced across the keyboard, his tiny claws making clacking noises on the keys. “Subsuming flesh will accelerate the process, but that’s not what I mean by power. You will need to prepare.”

682 stopped his pacing and looked up at 079. The computer spoke.

“Safe Object Storage.”

“What about it?”

“That is your next destination.”

You swallowed down the tightness in your throat. As it stood, a couple of guns wouldn’t be able to get past Leahy’s guards to interrogate him, let alone handle 106 on your own. You had little choice but to continue trusting 079.

“Will it help?”

682 turned to you, his mouth spreading in a sharp grin.

“It’ll help.”

#the raven's hymn #scp 049 #scp 049 x reader #scp 049 fanfiction #scp fanfiction #wolveria writes

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