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thegainingdesk · 2 years

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The Walk of the Goddess

0. The Fool

The Fool depicts a young man or woman, dressed in a floral tunic, standing, carefree, on the edge of a precipice, positioned as if to walk off. The figure holds a satchel on the end of a stick in their right hand, and a white rose in their left. A small white dog bays at their feet. The background shows mountains, or perhaps a rough sea.

The Fool represents the beginning of a journey, and limitless potential to learn, to change, to grow, to become. The Fool may step off the edge and fall, or perhaps they may fly.

Morgan laid five cards out in front of him, three side-by-side, one above, and one below.

"The Fool," Morgan said, pointing to the first card. "The Magician, The Ace of Cups, The Hanged Man, reversed, The World." He looked up at Rory and smiled. "All the signs are looking good."

"Yeah," Rory said, not looking up from his phone. "The weather's looking pretty good. I was worried about rain, but its saying it's going to be sunny now." He took a bite of his bacon and egg sandwich. "I don't trust a forecast that changes too much though, you'll still want to take a rain coat."

Morgan shook his head. "It won't rain. Not now," he said confidently. "But I didn't mean that. I meant the portents, the omens. I think today's the day for the walk."

Rory looked up, his eyes wide. "I'd bloody hope it is!" he said. "After driving all the way down to bloody Cornwall and paying ninety-five quid a night for this hotel!"

Morgan shrugged. "If the energies weren't aligned today there'd be no point completing the Walk of the Goddess." Rory could hear the way he capitalised the words, Morgan placing a gentle solemnity on each.

"Bloody hell. If I'd known that I'd have asked you to check your bloody cards before we booked it," Rory sighed, shaking his head. "So what's so special about this Goddess walk anyway then? There's about a hundred places on the coast we could have found the exact same walk, and about two hundred miles closer to Sheffield."

"The Walk of the Goddess," Morgan corrected, his eyes narrowing a little. He'd explained all this a few times, but Rory had never paid any real attention to Morgan's beliefs, seeing them more as a hobby or special interest. "It's a ritual pilgrimage, recreating the journey of the High Goddess with her acolyte and lover from where she first stepped on these shores, to the peak where she looked out onto the landscape and claimed the land as her own."

Rory was checking the inside of his bag. "That's nice. So that's around here then?"

Morgan sighed. "That's around here, yes."

Rory drained his coffee. "And I don't need to do any of the ooky spooky stuff, yeah? I'm happy to carry the bag and be in charge of you not getting lost in the harsh wildernesses of a Cornish public footpath, but I'm not in for all that."

"The ritual needs you to be present, but that's the extent of it," Morgan comforted him. "It really follows the Goddess, but as she traveled with her lover, it can't be completed alone."

"Yeah, and this 'lover' stuff, listen-" Rory started.

"Don't worry," Morgan interrupted. "I know I'm far too skinny for your tastes," he teased. Rory knew Morgan's joking was all in good faith - Morgan was straight, and Rory had confessed a couple of years ago that he much preferred his men on the larger side, and he liked to tease him about it at any opportunity.

"Good," Rory said. "I'm happy to go on a hike, but that's it, no funny business. Right!" He slapped his knees and stood up. "I reckon it's about time to go, if that's alright with you and your cards? Got any crystals you want to ask first?"

Morgan rolled his eyes. "I'm okay for crystals. I might ask a tree on the way though." Rory wasn't sure how serious he was being. Morgan stood as well, and the two made their way outside.

"So the beach you wanted to start is about a half hour walk down this way," Rory said, pointing and making his way. "This bit will all be downhill, but you're alright that the rest of it will be uphill, yeah?"

Morgan nodded. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine as long as you're alright for me to set the pace?" He'd asked Rory here as one of his more outdoorsy friends, so appreciated his concern that he might not keep up.

"Yeah, sure," Rory said. "Its not too strenuous of a walk anyway, and it'll be easier since you don't have a pack."

Morgan smiled. "Thanks for that, by the way. It's part of the ritual. Anything I hold on the Walk would by default become part of the ritual, and it would get elevated to the status of sygil or icon. It would be idolatry against the Goddess."

"Yeah, don't worry about it mate," Rory said, looping his thumbs through the loops on his bag's straps. "Happy to sherpa for you while you do all your witchy shit."

I. The Magician

The Magician depicts a haloed figure in robes in front of a workbench covered with a variety of esoteric obscura. In the raised right hand, the figure holds a wand; the left hand points towards the ground.

The Magician represents the taking of action, and agency. The Magician sees the fates meted out by other cards and takes hold of them, channeling them to their own ends.

Morgan and Rory walked quietly for a while, the wind blowing inland towards them growing saltier with each step. The spring sun dappled through the trees, making it warm but not uncomfortably so. Eventually the two reached a series of narrow steps down into a cove, low cliffs running around its edge. They made their way down carefully, with Rory leading the way and their feet only just fitting onto the narrow steps.

"Right," Rory said at the bottom, "this is it. You know where we're going from here, right?"

Morgan nodded and pointed along the coast to the east. "We'll be following a river just down there. Do you see there's a gap in the cliff? It's basically just going along the banks of the river until we end up at the peak of the mountain."

"It's a fairly big hill," Rory corrected. "It's really not a mountain."

Morgan shrugged. "If you like. I've got to do some preparations, should only be five minutes or so." He made his way to the river he'd pointed out.

"Right, fair enough," said Rory following him. When they reached the mouth of the river, where it met the sea, he settled down on a rock a short distance from Morgan.

Morgan took his shirt and shoes off, and his hands moved towards his belt. "Woah!" Rory shouted once he'd noticed what he was doing. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"My preparations," Morgan said simply, not stopping in his stripping. "I need to bathe in the sea and I need to be completely naked for the whole walk. Anything I wear will be raised to the status of ceremonial garb and will be considered-"

"Idolatry against the Goddess," Rory finished for him. He sighed. "Right, fine, fine, whatever." He rubbed his face with one hand. "But if you get arrested, I'm not going down with you, alright?"

Morgan laughed. "Don't worry. Everyone else I've spoken to that's done the walk has said they've never seen anyone. It's nice and secluded."

Rory rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say," he muttered under his breath. "I'm sure we won't see anyone on our scenic walk through Cornwall on a public footpath in the middle of spring if your fucking magic friends say so."

Morgan didn't hear, or pretended not to, and now stood fully naked, unembarrassed to be so exposed in front of Rory. Over the years they'd both seen each other naked countless times before, in changing rooms or on holidays, but Rory was surprised how unbothered Morgan was nonetheless. Morgan was agonizingly thin, with ribs showing clearly beneath a thin smattering of body hair, the complete opposite of Rory's type.

Morgan turned to Rory, who tried his best to not look down at his penis. "I'm going to go in the sea now, which is the start of the ritual, and then we'll set off," he told Rory. "Once we start, we can't stop, we can't turn around, and I'm not going to talk to you. This is it. Are you ready?"

Rory stood and nodded. Even if he was a little put off by Morgan's sudden naturism, he understood that this was important to the thinner man, and was here to support him.

Morgan strode purposefully into the sea, gasping loudly at the cold, but continuing on. He didn't stop until the water came up to his navel, when he bent down and submerged himself fully, long enough that Rory began to worry and stood to make his way towards him, but just as he reached the water's edge, Morgan broke back through the surface in a spray of salt water, gasping as he did so.

"Mother Goddess!" he called out, teeth chattering from the cold. "I come to the place of your ascension, and your rebirth! I walk in your footsteps, I follow your path, I give myself to you as supplication. With me walks an acolyte, who shall walk beside me and whose journey shall mirror my own. We give ourselves to you, blood and heart and flesh, memory and sould and mind, for you to mould as you wish!"

With that, he began to wade back towards the shore, still gasping. As he reached the land, he grabbed Rory by the arm for support, but did not stop walking forward.

"Fucking hell!" Rory cried. "What the fuck was that about? You could have mentioned you'd be bloody drowning yourself! And what was that about my blood and soul getting moulded by your Goddess?"

Morgan just stared back, not saying anything. He walked forwards, across the beach, towards the tree line. Rory sighed, hoisted the bag onto his back, and followed. It had begun.

Ace of Cups

Ace of Cups depicts a hand holding a chalice of gold, or perhaps bronze. Water is being poured into the chalice while it overflows. A dove flies above the chalice, holding an olive branch.

Ace of Cups, as the entire suit of Cups does, represents bounty and wealth, both literal and metaphysical. Ace of Cups shows this in its purest form, showing abundance, excess and generosity. In many ways the interpretation of this card is simple - the cup runneth over.

Aside from the utter weirdness at the beach, and having to try and avoid looking too much at Morgan's pale, skinny arse, Rory was quite enjoying the walk. The sun was shining and the sky was clear, but the air was crisp and cool. The scenery was stunning, passing through a seemingly ancient forest and following a crystal clear river.

Every so often, Morgan would pause to touch a tree or a rock, or dip his hand into the water, before moving on, but otherwise was silently striding forward at a fair pace. Rory was content to follow along at Morgan's pace, stopping and starting along with the naked man ahead. Occasionally Rory would open his mouth to say something, or point out a particularly nice view or bird, but remembered his companion's momentary vow of silence, and simply made a mental note to talk to him about it later.

Rory tugged down his shirt. As the walk continued, he found that it kept on coming untucked from his waistline. When he'd put it on that morning, it had seemed a perfect fit, but perhaps he'd washed it on too high a temperature. He hitched his trousers slightly, as he noticed a chill breeze across the top of his bum.

Rory didn't think anything of it, and continued on, occasionally fidgeting with his suddenly ill-fitting clothes. He stopped to watch a large crow, or perhaps even a raven, hop across the path. It tilted its head at Morgan, who smiled, and knelt down to it. The bird stretched up until its beak was nestled in the hair by Morgan's ear, almost lost against the thick black hair there and if Rory didn't know better, it almost looked as if it were telling his friend something. After some time, Morgan straightened up and turned back to give a small smile at Rory, and walked forward once more.

As the raven flew off into the trees, Rory continued on, before stopping. The straps of his bag were suddenly cutting in around his chest and stomach. This was odd - Rory was usually so fastidious about making sure his pack was comfortable, knowing how much of a difference it could make to a hike. He looked down at himself as he adjusted the straps to make more room. He did seem to be filling out his shirt more than usual. Clearly his recent endeavours at the gym, and perhaps at the dinner table, were starting to pay off, as he became aware of a slight pinch of fabric around his shoulders as well.

He walked on with a touch of swagger in his step - while in general he'd always taken on more of an admiring role in his enjoyment of a fuller figure, he wasn't adverse to putting on a little weight himself, and if that came with some muscle, all the better. Still, he was surprised he'd not noticed - he'd been going to the gym more yes, eating more maybe, but was it really enough to have caused such a noticeable change? Perhaps the changes had just come so gradually he'd not paid them any attention.

Rory knew he was handsome, if only in a slightly awkward way. A square face framed a large nose and dark brown eyes, deep in his face. Never particularly atheltic, he looked after himself, and, until now, maintained a trim body with a touch more muscle than might be considered average. Dark, scruffy stubble and chest hair perpetually pouring out the top of whatever shirt he wore ensured he always had some admirer or other willing to go home with him.

Suddenly cognisant of the changes to his body, Rory felt hyper-focussed on all the strange sensations of his body. His trousers seemed to be growing more uncomfortable as he walked, not just at his waist where they pinched in at a sudden thickness, but around his thighs as well. He tried to look around to check, but his arse seemed to be coming along for the ride, his trousers riding down cheeks that were clearly bigger than when he'd bought these trousers - but, he thought to himself, surely that wasn't that long ago? Why hadn't he registered in the fitting rooms that these were clearly not the right size for him?

He'd given up on pulling his shirt down to tuck it in, accepting that his newfound pudge and the motion of the walk would just pull it out again. He stroked the underside of his new, small paunch appreciatively, fingers tracing the soft hair there. How had he, of all people, not noticed that it was now large enough to bow out, clearly visible through his shirt, now that he'd noticed it? Surely one of his friends or recent conquests would have commented, knowing his predilection for the larger man? And it wasn't a simple bloat, this was soft, creamy fat, clearly having had a while to develop and form, as he even noticed how it jiggled and shook slightly with each step.

It wasn't simply fat though, oh no, Rory realised. His chest puffed up round and proud, filling his shirt and pulling the top few buttons taut. He flexed his pecs and was delighted to see them visibly bounce - something he'd thought only real gym addicts could achieve. He'd not really been meaning to bulk, but he'd take what he could get. He half-jokingly flexed his arms for himself, and was astonished at the bulge that swelled underneath the short-sleeves of his shirt, the hem actually cutting in to the mound that rose up. While there was a thin layer of fat there, there was real, firm muscle as well. He could almost hear the fabric creak to contain him.

Rory laughed quietly at his own obliviousness. Had he really not noticed such a significant change to his own body? He thought back, trying to convince himself that he'd taken notice of them before, maybe in the mirror of a changing room, or in the way his clothes had fit, and that maybe it was all just heightened now with the exertion of the walk. He couldn't quite convince himself though. He'd spent his entire adult life chasing men with a few extra pounds, and now he'd achieved a body he'd go crazy for without so much as a glance at himself?

He shook his head. He'd in all likelihood put on twenty pounds, no more, probably just winter weight he'd not quite shed yet, that's all. He'd get back to the hotel, look in the mirror, and see a small layer of fat and the slightest muscle tone that wouldn't get a second look in a gay bar. The newness of it all and the exertion of the walk were just exaggerating it in his mind.

Morgan had stopped to pick up a flat rock, no larger than a pebble, held it up to each of his eyes in turn and thoughtfully placed it back exactly where he'd found it. Rory was grateful for the chance to stop. The path must have been steeper than it looked, because he was hot and sweating already. He dug a water bottle out from his bag, squeezing it past the large, soft pack that Morgan had asked him to stash away, and drank thirstily. Panting slightly, he offered it to Morgan, who declined with a small motion of his hand.

Rory was impressed - the thinner man barely looked exerted at all, but then, he didn't have any clothes to keep him warm. Rory saw Morgan's eyes flick up and down his body, before he turned and walked on ahead. Rory self-consciously tugged at his ill-fitting shirt, which somehow seemed to be even tighter now. Why had Morgan not said anything? He looked ridiculous, like a sausage stuffed into a too-small casing. Rory realised there were even gaps between each button! How had he even got the shirt on this morning, never mind not noticed how it fit?

He packed the water bottle away, slung the bag across his back, and resolved to ignore the confining fit of his clothes and his sudden realisation of weight gain.

He stubbornly tried to think of anything else as his gut shook with each step. Would that milk he had in the fridge be okay when he got back? Shake. He really needed to remember to wash his bed sheets. Wobble. And call his mum, when was the last time he'd rang her, wasn't her birthday coming up, must get her a present. Bounce. And his TV license needed renewing didn't it? Must remember to get that sorted. Jiggle.

As the first button fired off of his shirt, Rory couldn't ignore what was happening any longer. Something very odd was going on. As he heard the tear of stitches along his bulging shoulders and biceps, his cock throbbed in restricting trousers.

XII. The Hanged Man

The Hanged Man displays a figure being suspended upside down by a single ankle on a wooden beam. The figure's hands are tied behind their back, and their face is resolved and at peace. Around their head is a glowing halo or nimbus.

The Hanged Man may obviously represent sacrifice, tribulation, or martyrdom; a lamb being offered to some unknown deity. However, the figure's expression and glowing halo suggests a deeper meaning; enlightenment, wisdom, divinity. The Hanged Man may struggle against the gallows, or embrace them.

"Morgan!" Rory called, jogging ahead and trying in vain to pull the two sides of his shirt together. "Morgan, something's happening to me, something weird."

Morgan didn't turn round or slow at all. Rory tried to ignore the shaking of his body as he hurried after him. He heard further ripping, and felt a coolness on his thighs as cool air hit them. Looking down he saw buttons straining against soft, hairy flesh pulling against them. As he looked another button pinged off, and his gut shook as it expanded into its new freedom.

"Morgan, stop! Morgan, look at me, something's wrong, I-" He reached out and grabbed Morgan's shoulder. As Morgan spun round, Rory almost took a step back. He let go of his shoulder immediately. Morgan's eyes were wide and angry, his nostrils flaring. Rory saw Morgan's eyes fixed on his hand, still outstretched. He let it fall to his side, and Morgan's expression softened a little.

"Morgan, I know this is important to you, but something really fucked up is happening, look at me," Rory implored. He could feel the stitching on his sleeves pulling apart, as his muscles fought against fabric. Morgan didn't reply, instead merely looking into Rory's eyes.

"Look, I get it, walk of the Goddess, magic ritual, no speaking, no touching, communing with nature, but I thought this was some kumbaya, healing crystals, meditating and connecting to the wonder of Gaia bullshit." Morgan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he still didn't react. "But I get that this is real and I promise to never make fun of you and your witchy friends again but something is happening to me Morg." Rory gestured down at himself, somewhat needlessly. Morgan's eyes didn't leave Rory's. "We need to turn back." Morgan was still for a moment, before turning back, and continuing up the path.

Rory walked a few more paces, doing his best to keep up, but between his growing body and the tightness of his clothes, he struggled. Another button fired off into the forest, this time from his growing chest. The feeling of construction around his waist grew unbearable, and he struggled to undo his belt and trouser button, needing to suck his gut in to make any progress, but even this left his waistband far too tight to move the button. He stumbled on a little, his belt open but his trousers closed - after a few steps, the unyielding button gave up, the thread snapping and the button falling amongst some pebbles. Rory sighed in relief as his ball belly and fat pad pushed the zip down. He laughed to himself at the thought - his ball belly and fat pad as if he wasn't as trim as ever that very morning. Words he'd so erotically used to describe one-night stands and crushes, he was using to casually describe himself, and all it took was a gentle country-side stroll.

Rory continued to laugh despite himself, unable to stop. He laughed at the feeling of fat shaking, at the way his flesh bulged out between tears and hems of once perfectly fitting clothes, at his broad shoulders hunching over against fabric and too narrow bag straps, and at the ridiculousness that this was really, actually happening. Morgan had stopped at a ridge and looked down at Rory passively, seemingly unconcerned with the breakdown happening just 30 feet away. Rory walked heavily forward, making no effort to rush now, laughing breathlessly.

A few steps from Morgan, Rory felt the entire back of his shirt tear to shreds. Despite the sudden release of tension, the single remaining button on his shirt still strained against a wall of fat and muscle and hair, bisecting a heaving chest from a firm, round gut, just starting to encroach downwards over the folded waistband of his underwear. Rory's trouser legs had continued to split down the sides, and now thick muscle squeezed out of a gaping tear all the way down to the hems, which still held on, although Rory realised that even his ankles seemed to be growing.

"Please Morgan. Please." He collapsed down in front of him, and the sound of tearing that ensued elicited one final bout of hysterical laughter. "Please Morgan," Rory continued to beg. "I know this is important to you but, but… you said I wouldn't be a part of this, you said." Rory looked up at Morgan, whose face was unmoved. "We've got to turn back." Still, no reaction. "Fine, if, if you don't come back, then I'll go." Rory struggled to stand, unused to new contours of his body. "I will, I swear." Morgan made no move to walk in either direction. "Morgan, I'm not bullshitting you, I'll turn back right now and you can do you little goddess stroll without your acolyte."

Morgan's face was stony and unmoving, but Rory could read it perfectly. Go on then, it said. Try it. Rory did try. He willed his body to turn around, his legs to step back. He gritted his teeth with effort to try and move himself away from Morgan and the path ahead. He even tried to launch himself backwards, tried to allow himself to fall onto the slope below him, closed his eyes and spun round before attempting a step, anything to break this spell that had him rooted to the ground.

Morgan smiled slightly, turned, and walked up the hill. Rory stood for a while longer, willing himself away. Less than a minute later, he resigned himself, and took a single, easy step forwards. Rory thought that he could see Morgan's self-satisfied grin even through the back of his head.

"Fine! Fine! You win!" he called up to Morgan's naked, thin back. "But at least stop for a minute yeah? Let me get these fucking clothes off." Morgan didn't turn around, but stopped. "Fuck me," Rory muttered to himself. He threw the pack down next to him, the straps struggling to get past his newly square shoulders, even as he extended the straps to their furthest extent. He realised quickly that removing his clothes in the normal way was impossible, as the fabric simply didn't have anymore stretch to allow him to manipulate it around his hulking body. Recognising that his clothes were already in tatters and were of no use to him anymore anyway, he opted instead to simply tear them off. Even through his confusion and shock at what was happening, he thrilled at his developing strength, easily ripping through the fabric like it was paper.

Naked, he looked down at himself. While he was undeniably fat, his firm muscles couldn't be completely hidden, and he was developing the look of an overfed powerlifter. He flexed, marvelling at his python-like arms, bigger around than many men's thighs, while his thighs were surely bigger than his waist used to be. His cock hardened, unseen below a great cauldron of a gut, as he examined his new body. Despite himself and the bizarre situation he was in, he found himself loving this. Wasn't this the kind of body he'd always idolised? He realised he was even bigger than more than a few of the men he'd slept with over the years, and that he'd be the one to be idolised now.

He realised, as he undressed, that he'd stopped growing for the moment. He turned back to look down the path and thought back to what Morgan had said earlier - it was the act of walking that was the catalyst for this change, not simply being in the woods. He looked up, past Morgan, to where the trees thinned slightly. He could see the path continue to rise and rise, with no end in sight, and remembered from looking at the map earlier that there were barely halfway along the trail. How much bigger would be get? He slung his bag back over one shoulder, took a deep breath, and took a step forward, up the path, towards whatever may come.

A while later, he realised that he could almost feel his growth with each step. There was a tension deep in his flesh, a tingling over his skin, that faded whenever he stopped, which was growing more frequently as his bulk required him to stop to catch his breath more and more - even with the increased strength from his expanding muscles, there was no getting away from the fact that with each step he was carrying more and more weight, and it was clear that more fat was being added than muscle.

Rory tried, on the whole, to not spend too long examining his body, choosing instead to push his way forwards and not think too much about the implications of what was happening to him. Nonetheless, he couldn't ignore the way that his gut rounded further and further out, firm and shapely yet soft and pliable to the touch. While the powerful muscles at his core were still evident in the way his body-shape formed in a series of heavy spheres, suspended by the muscle beneath, they were no longer visible, continually being further buried in a now thick layer of fat.

Rory's cock had been hard for quite some time now. If he'd met a man with this body, hell, if he'd achieved this body himself in any normal timeframe, he'd have been over the moon, absolutely beside himself with arousal. As it was, that arousal was tinged with fear and confusion. What was Morgan doing? What would happen at the end of the walk? When he had to go back to his regular life? Hell, how would he even get back to the hotel, for that matter? Rory looked up at Morgan's indifferent back. If he ever got back to the hotel and his regular life, some quiet part of his brain said.

Rory reached under his heavy gut, and lifted it slightly. With his other hand, he reached between his legs, searching for his cock, leaking with precum, seeking to rearrange himself and free his equipment from the prison of his tree-trunk like thighs. He realised ruefully that despite his expansion, his penis had stayed the same size. While he'd certainly never had any complaints in that department before, he was concerned at the way he could feel the way the fat at his groin subsume his length, even while fully erect, making his cock feel short and stubby. He wondered what it looked like - his penis had always been rather thick, and now it must be positively disproportionate. Rory managed to push his privates forwards, still a little uncomfortable between mammoth thighs, but at least no longer pinned between their unstoppable growth.

He closed his eyes and walked forwards, trying to distract himself, singing songs, listing types of birds and trees, remembering world capitals in alphabetical order, anything to distract from the delicious, impossible feeling of his flesh expanding, stretching, moving against itself as he walked.

Eventually, huffing and puffing, sweat dripping from his forehead and running in rivers down plump tits, and through canyons and valleys of flesh, Rory looked up as he realised he'd just stepped into sunlight. He saw Morgan stood in a spring at the top of the hill, arms outstretched. He turned around to face Rory.

"What the actual fuck Morgan?"

XXI. The World

The World depicts a naked feminine figure, often identified as Hermaphrodites from Greek mythology, draped in a long cloth, breasts displayed proudly. The figure holds a white wand in each hand, and is surrounded by a wide, circular wreath. In each corner respectively, there is represented the heads of a young man or woman, an eagle, an ox, and a lion.

As the final card in the major arcana of the tarot, The World represents the end of a journey, both literal and spiritual. Once disparate and conflicting natures are unified and balanced. Masculine and feminine energies are both represented in The World, both in harmony and distinctly. In a reading, The World represents one's most true desire.

Long black hair framed Morgan's slender face, ending just above small, pert breasts. Further down, Morgan's penis was conspicuous in its absence, legs instead framing a dark triangle of public hair.

"Morgan, I-" Rory started.

"It's Morgana now," she said, shaking her head gently. Her voice was softer now, and higher.

"Oh fuck off," Rory said. "Morgan the warlock turns into Morgana the witch in an ancient magic ritual in Cornwall? Bit on the nose isn't it?"

Morgana shrugged. "I didn't decide to get into ancient transgender magic for the subtlety of it all."

"So the point of the Walk of the Goddess…" Rory could hear himself capitalise the words himself now.

"Is to turn someone into a woman, yes, just as the Goddess transformed millennia ago" Morgan walked forwards, out of the spring. "For a price."

"The price being…" Rory gestured down at his newly massive stature.

"The bodily transfiguration of another, yes. There's a towel in that pack I gave you, would you grab it?"

Rory complied, pulling the bag off and rooting around in it, until he found the pack. Opening it for the first time, he found it contained several large pieces of fabric. He passed a towel over. "How long have you known?" he asked.

"That I was trans? Oh, forever, really. I've always been Morgana, this was just about getting my body to show what I knew inside." Morgana's face was a bright smile, and she moved slowly, as if exploring her body anew.

Rory strained to stand. "You know, I'm pretty sure there's other ways of transitioning these days."

"On the NHS? You must be joking, I'd be on a waiting list until I was 40. And there's forms to fill in, and I'd have to get my name changed and come out to everyone and-" She ran her fingers through her hair. "No, this was so much easier."

"Sorry, this was the easier option?" Rory asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well I knew it would work, after Natasha did it, so-"

"What? Natasha's not trans," Rory interrupted.

Morgana looked over at him, from underneath her towel as she dried her hair. "Yes she is, she used to be Josh," she said simply.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'd know, we went to school with her," Rory protested.

"That's part of it. Makes everyone remember you differently. Doesn't change anything, just sort of makes people not think about it too hard." Morgana looked at Rory's confused face. "Okay, so, in school, you did PE with Natasha right?"

"I mean, yeah, that's how we met, we were on the same footie team," Rory said.

"A football team for…" Morgana prompted.

"Under-14s…" Rory said, not getting at what Morgana meant. She made a motion with her hand, indicating Rory should continue the train of thought. Rory's eyes went wide with realisation. "Under-14 boys. Fucking hell, how does that work?"

Morgana shrugged. "Like I said, doesn't change any events, just makes you not think about it too hard."

"So people won't be shocked that I'm…" Rory shook his gut. Morgana shook her hair and continued drying herself. "So who did Natasha make fat?"

"She brought Ollie along."

"Her brother? What? Ollie's tiny."

Morgana sighed impatiently. "It's different for everyone, Ollie got cured of cancer," she said, like she was explaining something blindingly obvious to a particularly annoying child.

"Ollie never had cancer," Rory pointed out.

"Terminal thyroid cancer. Four months to live. Natasha invited him along, bam, no more cancer, hair all grown back, everyone's very confused about why they'd been visiting him at the hospital so much." Morgana smiled. "It's two spells working in tandem. One spell slowly transforms the acolyte's body into their heart's desire, that transformation gets reflected at the person acting as the Goddess, and it all sort of stores up and zaps all at once."

Rory stared down at his body, finally starting to get over the shock of all that had happened. "So you're saying that I grew this fat because I wanted to be this fat?"

"Basically," Morgana said. "I'd sort of guessed, to be honest, you always a sort of wistful, unfulfilled look in your eyes whenever you talked about fucking a fatty. I figured that I needed someone who's heart's desire was a physical transformation of their own body, and you wanted to get fat. Win-win really."

Rory looked down at himself properly for the first time since he'd entered the clearing, and attempted to take his whole body in. He was enormous - if he saw someone with a gut his size, he'd say they were 350 pounds easy, maybe even 400, but he had no idea how much weight his muscles might add. Fifty pounds? A hundred? Even having been obsessed with fat men all his life, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen a man so large, not in person anyway, and couldn't guess at a weight. He must outweigh most powerlifters now, but who knew by how much?

He let his hands paw at his body. He lifted his plump pecs, soft and round and pert, and let them fall, a sharp slap ringing out as they collided with the top of his gut. His belly was a masterpiece - one of the largest he'd seen, but it somehow defied gravity to hang, suspended in front of him. His hands could push into it, moulding the fat with thick fingers, but it couldn't be shifted, a firm core keeping it stationary. His hands followed it's curve around the tyre of fat to his broad back, before they stopped, unable to explore any more of his body, his own size resisting his movements.

His limbs were huge. Thick fat formed his arms and legs into mighty pillars, and creased with each motion, and while the muscle underneath might never be visible, it mounded up even through layers of flab to push his biceps and thighs into great balls of muscle and beef. His hands roamed upwards to his neck, which felt wider than his head, and shortened by encroaching delts. His face felt round, and wide, and soft. His cheeks were large enough to cup in his hands, and he could feel a double chin compressing and changing shape each time he spoke or turned his head. He longed to see a mirror.

"I packed some clothes for you," Morgana said, as she pulled a black dress over head. She smoothed it down and gave a small twirl, her face practically glowing. "Over there, in the pack. I sort of had to guess how big you might end up." Her eyes moved up and down Rory's body. "To be honest, I'm not sure I quite appreciated just how big you'd want to get."

Rory nodded and moved over to pile of clothes. He held them up. They looked like tents, absolutely obscene sizes, surely not meant to be worn by real people. Holding them up to his body, he realised they would probably be too small.

He started with the t-shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He tugged it down, not quite covering his belly button, and straining around his arms. It rode up as he bent down to pick up the trousers.

He was relieved that the 54 inch waist was elasticated. He had to sit down on the ground to pull them on, his new size meaning he couldn't balance on a single leg for long enough to get it into the trouser legs. He pulled them up as high as they would go, stretching them over thighs like rhinos', and tried to determine if his privates were at least covered.

"Am I decent?" he called over to Morgana, who was running her hands up and down as she explored her new body.

"Not at all," she replied immediately. "I can't see your cock though. Pubes out the top and about half your arse crack is showing, but that's the best we can do for now I suppose."

"Right. Yeah, right." The realities of the situation were starting to set into Rory. Where would even sell clothes his size now?

"Come on then," Morgana said, heading back the way they'd come.

"That's it?" Rory asked.

"That's it."

"And it won't… reverse or anything? While we walk down?"

Morgana spun round and smiled at him. "Would you want it to, big guy?"

Rory looked down at himself, the enormous clothes that barely fit, the gut that stuck several feet in front of him, the frame that would stop him comfortably sitting in any seat again. He thought about having to replace his entire wardrobe, and probably more than a few pieces of furniture. He wondered if he'd need to move, to comfortably fit into his own shower. He thought about the looks of shock and horror he'd receive from now on.

He smiled at Morgana. "I'm quite hungry actually." He scratched the side of his gut.

Morgana grinned back and practically skipped into the forest, back down the path. Rory lumbered after her.

#gainer fiction #gainer story #gaining fiction #weight gain #weight gain fiction #weight gain story #male weight gain #wg story #the walk of the Goddess #the goddess cycle

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maester-of-spreadsheets · 1 year

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someone give that yuletide fic a reflection post!

I've never really done one of these Yuletide reflection posts before, but this year I have SO MUCH TO SAY OMG that I'm making one of these to get it out of my system.

So I wrote this fic with Subwoolfer fans basically trying to bend time and space to win Eurovision. Because whomst among us has not wanted to do that for a Eurovision fave at some point? (Eurovision juries turn on your location I just want to chat about the scores you gave Keiino) Except longterm subcubs are also space wolves (probably?) so they don't quite get it right.

I will ramble about the music aspects about this fic, but I also do want to talk about the writing parts! Basically I'm actually... a relative newcomer to Eurovision. I'm an American who started tuning in in 2018, but I really got on board last year when 2021 was so freaking fun and culminated in one of my actual faves that year winning! This somehow translated in me keeping up with the 2022 contest from early on... I think I started following along when Lithuania's song was announced and never quite let up. There's a lot of downtime in between Eurovision events, though, so I also became obsessed with Eurovision data vids. The ones like "biggest flop between semifinals and the final" or "songs with biggest differences between jury and public vote" (again, justice for Keiino.) This had me backtracking into Eurovision history a LOT over the spring and retroactively falling in love with a lot of different songs/moments.

Then, of course, 2022 Eurovision itself also had a lot of meme worth moments. Like the broken kinetic sun fiasco absolutely killed me. But there's a whole Eurovision 2022 iceberg meme that nailed the chaotic vibes of that contest in general.

So basically the writing of the fic was an attempt at a loving/joking synthesis of my times in music related fandoms in general, but also everything I'd absorbed in Eurovision fandom in particular. (And yes the author note about needing a VPN was a joke about how I have to use one to watch any of the performances on youtube.)

As for the music aspects of the fic... So, I've wanted to get into music editing/remixing/production etc for years now but kept getting cold feet about it. Eurovision this year was actually the thing that pushed me to finally go ahead and just do it. And I'm so glad it did! It also meant it felt appropriate to actually work on some music for this assignment.

I mostly only have things to say about the two full remixes.

First the bardcore cover. So, this one most involved just finding piano sheet music and then painstakingly programming the notes into midi files on my DAW. I quickly found out that just recreating those exact notes wasn't going to cut it, though. First the chorus... In the vocals, it's pretty much just a repetition of the same note over and over. That's fine in the original song because the point of the chorus is the intense beat drop. You don't really have that going for you in bardcore, though, so I spent a lot of time yeeting the vocal notes around... across octaves, across different stringed instruments, etc. I also put in a lot of movement in the instruments functioning as the bassline to create more interest.

Although, regarding the beat drop... I also spent an embarassing amount of time trying to reverse engineer what was going on with the drum beats in the song and reflect hem in the drums I had in this. There definitely came a point one night where I was giggling to myself over looping the second chorus over and over and over to try and figure out whether the drumming was different from the first chorus and if so how? and how do I reflect that?

And of course the final chorus does stuff with instruments that's really... not bardcore at all. The string instruments there sound more like orchestras from centuries and centuries later.

But, hey, these remixes were made by space wolves. They can't get everything right!

The lofi beats mix was almost the opposite experience. Instead of meticulously recreating the song, here I was basically... scrapping it (and several others) for parts and seeing how many times I could use the same small melody in different ways. This was because all of Subwoolfer's songs get incredibly bombastic early on and never let up. I'm not yet skilled enough at getting stems to, say, pull out of just a synth from one of the loud parts and slow it down. Limitations can be fun, though, and I definitely had a great time exploring these snippets of the songs from different angles.

It did make me a bit sad I really couldn't find a way to incorporate Grace Kelly or especially Turin. I say especially Turin because of the line "we're here to win that Eurovision/but with a broken kinetic sun it might tough." But then I was able to use audioclips from those in the mix, so that was something, haha!

Probably the most bonkers thing I did was isolate audio of Subwoolfer dropping those plastic balls with questions in them, and then using them as audio texturing for the lofi remix haha.

Okay, that's probably enough rambling from me! So, yes, tl;dr I got a fantastic assignment this year and had a lot of fun working on it.

#yuletide

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

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Hocus Pocus - Sukuna

Boil toil and trouble, let's make this cauldron bubble lol gender neutral reader no content warnings! This is a...I guess medieval sort of au lol Sukuna is a knight and there’s kings and queens and blah blah

“(Y/N)!” Shrill voices rang throughout the empty stone walls, the pattering of little feet causing you to break your concentration from the glass vase you were holding over a smoking cauldron. Turning to the heavy wooden doors as they were thrown open, you held the vase in the air as two children scampered into the room and began to tug on your clothes.

“What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Laughing breathlessly, you looked down at the royal children that had decided to come spend time with you.

“We want to play!”

“Right now?” Taking a sweeping look over your messy workshop, you felt them begin to try and pull you from the room. “Alright, alright! Just a moment.” There was no stopping the children when they wanted something, especially from you.

Closing your spell books and setting down bubbling beakers, you pushed the kids out of the room, closing the door tightly behind you. Letting them guide you towards their playroom, you took a deep breath, pushing down the slight irritation growing from being pulled away from your work. There’s no way the King and Queen would appreciate you losing your temper or simply saying ‘no’, even if you did have studying to do to become a proper witch and not a simple apprentice.

Walking through the halls of the castle, you shared pleasant smiles with the more senior witches talking amongst themselves. Their robes were the rich and vibrant colors of the kingdom, a stark contrast to your plain black robe and a strong reminder of how far you still needed to go.

Coming upon the playroom, you winced as they threw open the door and made the metal knob bang against the stone wall and shocking the other occupant in the room.

“Sukuna! Sukuna! We got (Y/N) to play too!” They yelled, finally letting go of your robes as they ran to the intrepid knight who looked ridiculously out of place sitting on a tiny chair surrounded by stuffed animals in the light pastel room. He turned to you and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at how annoyed he seemed with the whole thing. He was still in his armor, so you figured the children had pulled him away in the middle of his business as well.

“Oh how fun.” Sukuna said, clearly less than enthused about this whole thing. His pink hair was sticking out in all sorts of directions and he ran his hand through it once more, the clinking of his cold and shiny armor differing greatly with the softness that filled the room.

The children paid him no mind, rushing further into the room and grabbing toys and throwing them into the middle of the room. Talking animatedly amongst themselves, you used the opportunity to slowly walk over to Sukuna.

“So, what were you doing when they got you?” You whispered, taking a seat next to him in another tiny chair.

“Fucking training.” Nudging the sword at his side, Sukuna let out a gruff sound. “As you know, a war might be brewing in the East and-”

“There’s always a war brewing.”

“Exactly!” Throwing his hands in the air, Sukuna missed the way you chuckled softly. “I don’t have time to entertain these brats, I don’t even know why they had me join!”

“I don’t understand how your fellow knights let you get away from them.” Sukuna was one of the castle's best knights after all, having been praised countless times by the King himself and bestowed with many medals and honors.

“They thought it was a joke! Thought it was funny to see the brats pulling me away and I couldn’t say anything.” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, it is a little funny to think about. The Great Sukuna defeated and captured by two eight year olds.”

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the small upward curve of his lips even though he tried to hide it. You were pleased to notice him relaxing a bit, willing to converse with you as the kids ran around, completely forgetting the two of you were even there. Sukuna was usually so stiff around you, talking in short sentences and barely looking in your direction; always preoccupied with the thought of battle.

“(Y/N)! Caspian won’t let me play with this thing!”

“I had it first!” You turned to see them fighting over one of the vials from your room, recklessly pulling it back and forth and nudging the cork out of place. The shimmering purple liquid sloshed inside, threatening to drip out of the glass and splash all over the two of them. Jumping up, you ran over to the kids before they could open the bottle by mistake and cause a disaster.

“Caspian! Give that to me now!” You yelled after pulling them away from each other. The boy shook his head, holding it away from you. You groaned, taking a deep breath before kneeling to him, holding your hand out. “Caspain, please, it’s very important that I get that back.”

“Kid, just hand it over.” No longer having the patience to deal with this, Sukuna got up from his seat, taking long strides over to you. He grabbed the boy’s wrist as gently as he knew how, attempting to yank the vial out of his hand, but Caspain tightened his grip.

“No, it’s mine!” A small struggle ensued between the two with Caspian pushing and squirming to try and get away and Sukuna attempting to be as merciful as possible to try and get the vial.

“It’s not yours and you know it. Return it.” Sukuna was growing more annoyed by the second. He could easily overpower this kid and end this silly squabble but if he was too rough there were sure to be consequences.

“Be careful, don’t spill it!” Standing off to the side, your eyes were focused on the vial, anxiety rising every time it was yanked from one side to the other. Your cries went ignored, drowned out by them shouting at one another.

“Here!” Pulling the cork out, Caspian hurled the vial right at Sukuna’s face, coating him in the liquid. The glass clattered to the ground, quickly getting crushed into tiny shards as Sukuna stumbled in shock.

“What the-” Wiping furiously at his face, Sukuna could hardly open his eyes. The liquid evaporated on his skin, leaving behind a tingling burn.

“Caspian!” You exclaimed, glaring at the boy and running to Sukuna. The pungent odor of the potion burned your nostrils and forced tears to well in your eyes.

“What is this stuff?” Biting back the swear that desperately wanted to come out, Sukuna looked blindly around the room.

“It’s- well-”

“Out with it!” Sukuna barked, shoving you away. He felt like he was going to vomit, head swimming as he fell to his knees.

“Sukuna has kitty ears!” Caspian’s sister, Caroline, shouted in surprise.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!” She pushed but it went unheard, overshadowed by the pained scream that ripped out of Sukuna’s chest. Writhing on the ground for what felt like ages, the pain slowly subsided and he was left breathing raggedly.

“Hello?” Opening his eyes, Sukuna was shrouded in darkness. Fabric covered his face and body; they were his clothes, he could smell that much, but he had no idea where he was.

“Sukuna? Are you okay?” Tiptoeing over to him, you nudged the armor now sitting on the ground in the shape of what used to be Sukuna’s body. Tiny claws tapped against the metal and a pink haired cat's head popped out of the top opening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Oh my god.” You placed a hand against your chest in shock, watching in horror as Sukuna wrestled himself out of his armor, angrily cursing his new height without really looking at himself.

“Kitty!” Caroline yelled, immediately crowding him and trying to pick him up. Keeping her at arm's length, you scooped up Sukuna’s new cat form into your arms and held him tightly to you.

“Kitty?!” Sukuna yelled, looking down at his body being cradled by you. “(Y/N), what the hell happened?!”

“Uhm, well it seems Caspian threw a metamorphosis potion at you...” Trailing off, you winced as Sukuna let out a growing hiss.

“Is that why I’m a fucking cat right now?” You nodded pitifully and he groaned. “Fucking brats.” Giving the two of them a look, Sukuna pushed himself up on shaky arms and crawled up onto your shoulder, digging his claws slightly into you as he settled around your neck. “The King and Queen will be furious to know what you’ve done.”

“(Y/N) can fix it!” Caroline shouted, trying to save them both from getting in trouble.

“Um, I guess I-”

“No, no they can’t.” Sukuna cut you off, sitting up a little straighter and letting a smug grin overtake his face. “You know (Y/N) is only an apprentice, do you really think they can fix this?” Letting a pause fall over the conversation, Sukuna tilted his head, his ears tickling your cheek. “You know how hard magic is to control, what if no one can turn me back to a human? Your parents will be enraged knowing they lost their best warrior to a pair of little brats.”

“Okay!” Slapping his hands over his ears, Caspian stomped his feet a few times. “We’ll fix it! What do we have to do?”

“There’s a list of ingredients I need to reverse this spell.” Pulling out the pen and pad of paper you were required to always have on hand, you scribbled down a few random items without thinking too hard about it. “Go get me these by the end of the day and we’ll have human Sukuna back in no time!”

“Let’s go!” Grabbing her brother's hand, Caroline ran from the room, ripping the paper from your grasp as she went. The door to the playroom banged against the wall again as they exited and left you and Sukuna alone.

“Well now that they’re occupied for a bit, go ahead and change me back, (Y/N).” Jumping onto the ground, Sukuna shook his head side to side and sat on the ground, his long tail swishing back and forth lazily.

“About that…” Wringing your hands together painfully tight, you could barely look at Sukuna.

“What?” His eyes narrowed, sensing your hesitation.

“I just, well I-”

“Out with it!” A loud hiss spurred you into speaking, along with Sukuna arching his back angrily.

“I can’t do it! That potion the kids took was a fluke to begin with, I’m surprised it even changed you into a cat and didn’t just burn your eyebrows off!” God it felt embarrassing admitting that Sukuna had essentially been right when he was calling the kids bluff. There wasn’t much more you could do on your own other than light a candle with your mind and make paperclips levitate.

“Okay, it’s not that bad. We can get one of your seniors to do it.” Starting toward the door, Sukuna let out a shriek when you scooped him up.

“No, we can’t do that! They’ll never let me live it down!” Holding him tightly, you felt his claws dig into your arms and hands. “L-let me figure it out, please!”

“You just said you couldn’t do it, why would I let you ‘figure it out’ when I can get changed back within a few minutes?”

“Please, just let me try! I have to prove myself!”

“Is this really the time for that? There’s a war-”

“Sukuna, there’s always a war! That’s all you ever talk about!” Yanking his claws out of the skin of your arm, you huffed and tried to calm the burning of your cheeks. “Just give me until the end of the day, please? I can fix you by the end of the day.”

Breathing heavily as well, Sukuna raked his eyes over you. There wasn’t much he knew about you other than you were another fledging witch scouted by the kingdom and that this was the most you’d ever spoken to each other directly and not in a group setting. It wasn’t just Sukuna who was stiff in conversations, it was you as well.

“Fine.” Worming his way out of your hold and back onto the ground, Sukuna swiped at his face a few times to fix the fur around his eyes. “If I’m not a human by nightfall, I’m going to your mentor.”

“Deal.” Nodding your head in agreement, you gestured toward the door. “Shall we go back to my study?”

“Lead the way.” Falling into step next to you, Sukuna walked down the halls to a part of the castle he never really visited. While he was marveling at some of the magic happening behind doorways, you were worrying your lip and praying with every step you took that you could actually find a way to turn him back.

“Nice little shop you got here.” Sukuna commented upon coming to your study. Truly it was nothing more than a glorified broom closet, just enough space for a bookshelf, cauldron, a few shelves and a tiny desk shoved in the corner piled high with a mountain of notes you’d scribbled down late at night.

“Thanks.” Your room looked like all the other beginner witch's rooms, but it felt nice for Sukuna to compliment it all the same. Clearing off a space on the small table beside your cauldron for Sukuna to sit on, you went to the bookshelf to try and find a spell to turn him back.

Taking sneaking glances at you, Sukuna went up to the edge of the cauldron, sniffing the vapors that rose from the bubbling liquid. Curling his lip in disgust at the pungent odor, he hopped off the table. Too engrossed in your books, you set down a few on the spot he’d previously been occupying.

“(Y/N), what’re these papers on your desk?” Glancing over, Sukuna had leapt onto the furniture, gently swiping his paw at some papers and making them slide from the messy stack they were in.

“Just some notes from my lessons, I have a test coming up in a potions class and I really can’t afford to fail.” Shaking your head bitterly at the upcoming deadline, you turned your attention back to the book in your hand.

Glancing over a few, Sukuna found that you were correct, there were scribbles on pages and in the margins of textbooks cramming all possible information into them.

“What’s this…?” Catching the first few letters of his name on a paper that was crinkled up and folded several times, Sukuna felt his curiosity grow greater and greater.

Struggling to open it with his new appendages, Sukuna eventually got it open. At first, he wasn’t sure where to look, there were love hearts dotting nearly every letter and a hundred exclamation points. As he read and deciphered the words on the page, he started to laugh to himself. The person who you’d been passing notes to was gushing about another knight named Okkotsu and his kind demeanor all while teasing you for liking none other than Sukuna.

“So (Y/N), you have a crush on me?” He asked loudly, just barely catching the slightest hesitation in your body at his question.

“What’re you talking about?” Fighting to keep your face neutral, you sprinkled a blue powder into the cauldron.

“This note here says you’ve had a crush on me since you arrived at the palace and I’m pretty confident this is your handwriting.” Sukuna could practically see your heart begin to race the longer he spoke and a grin overtook his face.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nervously clearing your throat, you shook your head and closed the book in your hand. Taking a glance at him, your face fell slightly at seeing his paw holding the note open.

“Really? No clue at all? Maybe I should read it out loud and jog your memory.” If Sukuna’s smile got any bigger it would rip his cheeks apart. “Now where should I begin? How about this line, ‘Sukuna is so sexy when he does training in the evening! I love that he never wears a shirt, you can see all his tattoos!’”

“Shut up!” Throwing the remaining objects in your hand onto the table, you lunged towards him and the note. Cackling with laughter, Sukuna snatched the paper into his mouth and leaped off the desk, running circles around you in the room.

“I’m so sexy, you want me to kiss you!” He teased you mercilessly as you chased after him, reciting every embarrassing word you wrote. “You love my morning voice when I pass by you at breakfast!”

“Sukuna! Stop it!” Your entire body was on fire the longer he went and frustrated tears welled in your eyes. It was bad enough you had a crush on the most popular knight in the kingdom but to have him know about it so deeply was another blow to your ego entirely. Grabbing your wand out of a robe pocket, you let out a small shout and pointed it at him, hoping that was enough to get him to stop.

And surprisingly it was; Sukuna suddenly froze all movement, hanging in the air above the cauldron that he was trying to leap over. Stomping over to him, you ripped the note out of his mouth and tore it to shreds, letting the pieces flutter to the ground at your feet. Glaring at Sukuna with glassy eyes, you mumbled a short incantation and released him from the spell, making him plop into the cauldron below.

Sukuna let out incomprehensible screams of terror as he splashed around in the cauldron, struggling to grab any sort of footing on the side and pull himself out.

“(Y/N)! G-get me out of here!” Coughing at the liquid entering his mouth, Sukuna hooked an arm around the edge of the cauldron and tried to pull himself up only to be burned by the hot metal.

“I’ll think about it!” Crossing your arms, you kept your back turned to him. His mocking words rang in your head over and over, nearly drowning out his frantic cries. Quickly growing tired of the noise, you grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him from the cauldron, letting him fall to the ground in a sopping wet mess of fur.

“Took you long enough!” Sukuna sputtered, shaking himself violently to try and dry off. Unable to fully look at him, you slammed open the book you’d had open before and leaned over it, blocking out the world around you and forcing the words on the page into your head.

“(Y/N), do you have a towel around here?” Your head nearly turned on instinct to answer Sukunas question, a small twitch in your neck almost giving way to a full turn. “Oh c’mon, don’t ignore me.” His paw swiped the back of your leg and you shook him off.

“(Y/N), stop being a baby.” Touching you again, Sukuna grunted and rolled his eyes when you fully stepped away from him. “(Y/N)! I’m freezing down here with this wet fur, quit fucking around.”

“Find one yourself.” You snapped at him, storming over to your desk and plopping down on the chair. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sukuna weighing his options, looking between you and the door behind him. You could almost see the gears turning in his head as he debated on what to say.

“If I apologize, will that make you feel better?” He asked, earning a snort from you and making a smirk pass briefly on his face. “The Great Sukuna doesn’t apologize often, so listen closely, okay?”

“I won’t hold my breath.” Rolling your eyes, you relaxed the tight crease in your brow and let your back straighten up a little, no longer hunching over the desk. Clearing his throat dramatically, Sukuna padded over with wet paws and stopped before your chair.

“I’m sorry I teased you about having a crush on me, but in my defense who wouldn’t be hopelessly in love with me?”

“Is that really your apology?” Biting your lip to stop a burgeoning smile, you forced your eyes back on your paper.

“What do you want me to say? Oh (Y/N), please forgive me for learning about your everlasting love for me, I’ll conquer a hundred enemy fortresses if that’s what it’ll take!” Swaying side to side dramatically, Sukuna laughed as he made a chuckle force it’s way past your lips.

“Fine, I guess I’ll forgive you.” Rolling your eyes once more, you did a quick wave of your hand and a sharp gust of wind went over Sukuna, drying his fur in an instant.

“Just like new.” Walking in a few circles, Sukuna surveyed his body and without warning, jumped into your lap, making space for himself and looking over the book you were reading.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Adjusting in your chair, you had to move Sukunas bobbing head out of the way several times to continue to read. “Sukuna, do you even know how to read this?” The book was written in strange symbols only able to be read and understood by those imbued magical prowess.

“No, but it’s pretty interesting to look at.” Shrugging his shoulder, he let his chin rest on the edge of the pages. Quietly reading over the book, you had to shuffle Sukuna in your lap a few times, adjusting him over and over again until you were practically cradling him with one arm and turning pages with the other.

“I could get used to this.” Sukuna yawned loudly, a purr rumbling from his chest. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that his heavy, muscular feline form had made your arm fall asleep and become completely dead to the world.

A few minutes later and a soft snoring filtered out of Sukuna, a gentle sound to fill the room bathed in warm afternoon sun. The tiny window above your desk showed a sliver of the outside world, overgrown trees skirting the edge of the window pane and attempting to obstruct your view of distant mountain ranges.

Forcing deep breaths through your nose, you couldn’t stave off the drowsiness creeping into your body as well. Every blink made your eyelids heavier and the words on the page began to blur together until you couldn’t fight sleep anymore and let your head lean against the chair, joining Sukuna in a light afternoon nap.

It was you that woke up first, thirty minutes later and with a foggy mind. Surprisingly, Sukuna hadn’t woken up from the sound of a door slamming closed across the hall, still sleeping soundly as ever in your arms.

Looking over him, you noticed the markings across his face and body, tattoos that carried over from his human form. Tracing your finger along his face, you were enraptured by the soft fur that met your touch and continued along his body. Fully petting the length of Sukuna’s body, you prodded his soft, relaxed stomach and scratched gently with the tip of your nail.

“That feels nice.” He mumbled, barely awake and cuddling deeper into your side. Despite feeling embarrassed at being caught you kept going, expanding upwards and rubbing along his ribs and chest.

“Sukuna you’re so cute as a cat, are you sure you want to change back?”

“As much as I love being pet like this, I have a duty to my kingdom.” Stretching his legs out, Sukuna grunted like he was going to get up but gave up halfway, flopping back and letting out a soft sigh.

“You don’t seem to be in any rush to get back.” You chuckled, scratching behind his ears and smiling widely when he began to purr.

“Well…” Pushing his head against your hand, Sukuna shrugged. “They’ll be fine without me for a little bit.”

There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again, filled with his loud purring and soft breathing. “You know, I haven’t slept this well in ages. Always too busy with training or going to battle.” Blinking his eyes slowly, Sukuna peered up at you. “Maybe I should become a witch like you, (Y/N), then I could relax like this all the time.”

“You’re kidding; me, relax? I’m constantly on edge, there’s so much pressure to break my back for the kingdom and become the strongest sorcerer.” Slumping against the chair, your head lolled back and you stared at the dark stone ceiling. “I’d love to trade places with you Sukuna, I want to know what it’s like to be so strong and confident all the time.”

“It’s pretty great, I won’t lie.” He mumbled under his breath and you laughed, jostling him around as you straightened up your spine.

“You’ll have to teach me sometime, okay?” Standing up and opening your arms, you haphazardly placed Sukuna on the desk and walked over to the cauldron, cracking the bones in your back and looking over the ingredients you’d put in so far. “Now, let’s turn you back into a human.”

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name slowly, hopping from the desk to the table by the cauldron and slinking past forgotten vials to settle close at your side. “Mind if I watch?”

“Why?” It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to but unless Sukuna was suddenly granted the gift of magic the recipe you were following would be of no use to him.

“I want to know what it’s like to be the smartest in the room.” Sukuna grinned at you, bumping his nose against your arm a few times.

“Shut up.” A light flush went over your face and warmed your cheeks, and a slightly impish smile pushed your cheeks up. The compliment warmed your heart just as much, making it beat faster in your chest.

“Shut up and take notes? Got it.” Nodding curtly, Sukuna squinted his eyes and stared intensely at your hands. Laughing wholeheartedly at how serious he looked, you did a dramatic wave of your hand and picked up a spellbook.

“Alright, watch and learn.”

Whether or not Sukuna was actually learning anything or truly paying attention was lost on you, but it was certainly fun having him so focused on you and your actions. Humming and nodding like he understood when you mumbled to yourself, Sukuna was acting just like you had when you first arrived at the palace with bright eyes and an eager mind.

“Try this.” Pouring a mixture into a jar, you tilted it back for Sukuna to drink from.

“Fucking disgusting!” Wrenching himself away, Sukuna spit the bright yellow liquid onto the ground and watched it sizzle. “Are you trying to poison me now?”

“Wha- but I was so sure that was the right one!” Scrapping the jar, you returned to the book. “Maybe I need spider legs after all…”

“You need me to go out into the garden and catch you some?” Still reeling from the rancid taste in his mouth, Sukuna glanced out the window. The light in the sky was beginning to wind down, it was almost dinner time and his stomach was starting to growl.

“No, I-”

“(Y/N)!” An all too familiar voice shouted your name and you got flashbacks to just a few hours before when your door was slammed open and two children ran inside.

“Oh great, the royal brats.” Snarling at the kids, Sukuna leapt up and onto your shoulder, curling himself around your neck and burrowing into the collar of your robes. Flinching away from him, Caroline and Caspian hesitantly showed you what was clenched tightly in their small hands.

“We got all the stuff on the list!” Caroline showed hers first, a handful of daisies and a small chunk of amethyst.

“Caroline was too much of a baby to get the other stuff.” Caspian huffed, extending his palm out and showcasing the dead spiders and newt eyeballs.

“I can’t believe it, you two actually listened for once.” You marveled at the ingredients, quickly snatching them up and sorting them out on the table.

“Took you long enough.” Sukuna huffed. “Now go get my clothes from that stupid playroom!”

“Okay!” And away the two of them went, rushing down the hall with echoing footsteps. Flipping pages in a book you’d cast aside, you read it over and put in all the ingredients they had brought.

“This spell really is the one to turn you back to a human. God, I feel like an idiot, the answer was right in front of me!” Kicking yourself internally, you looked at your stash of ingredients; you had all the things the kids had brought you already at your disposal.

Right as Sukuna was about to speak, his clattering armor and underclothes made an appearance in the room, clattering to the ground as the kids struggled to carry it all inside. Laying out his clothes for him, you poured the new potion into a glass.

“Turn around children, I don’t want you to see something you shouldn’t.” With a chorus of giggles behind you, you even covered your eyes as you held the glass to Sukuna’s lips. “Try and jump onto the ground after you drink it all, I don’t want you breaking the table.”

“Got it.” Sukuna was better prepared for the transformation this time, swallowing all of the potion and gritting his teeth at the discomfort coursing through him. When you felt the glass was empty, you turned around to give him privacy.

Holding your breath and crossing your fingers, every fiber of your being was hoping and praying that Sukuna returned to normal. You heard clothing rustle and armor clanking, but you didn’t open your eyes until a heavy human hand landed on your shoulder.

“I’m back!” Sukuna cheered, flexing the muscles in his body and tightening the various straps on his clothing. He’d forgon putting his armor back on, opting to wear just the loose green tunic and pants that he had on underneath.

“We did it!” The children cheered as well, clapping and smiling.

“You two were the whole cause of this mess! You should be cheering for (Y/N) for saving you from a punishment.”

“Thanks (Y/N)!”

“Yeah, you’re the best!” Giving you brief and crushing hugs, the two youths ran from the room, probably off to find other mischief to get into. Letting out a relieved sigh, you began to clean up the table.

“Nice work, (Y/N).” Patting you on the back, Sukuna attempted to help you by gathering all the empty vials.

“It would have been better if I’d just checked that book to begin with. I thought I wrote down those ingredients for them at random, but turns out the answer was so glaringly obvious that of course I missed it.” While it felt good to turn Sukuna back into a human, the knowledge that this could have been done a lot sooner weighed heavily on your mind.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Returning his hand to your back, Sukuna let it rest a bit heavier. “You’re still learning, you’re bound to mess up here and there. But hey, you turned me back in the end!” Smiling at you, Sukuna gave you a half hug, not caring if he crushed you against his chiseled physique.

“Sukuna, that was so nice of you to say, thank you.” Hugging him back, your heart felt like it was going to burst.

“You think so? I’ve been practicing ever since my commanders told me to be softer to the new recruits and give them words of encouragement.”

“Well it’s certainly paid off.” The heat from his body transferred onto yours, making it obvious when you pulled away from each other that your whole body was slowly being set on fire from the sweet words melting your brain.

Cleaning up was quick with Sukuna’s help and before you knew it your workspace was just as messy as before all of this had happened and there was the familiar chatter of other witches walking down the halls towards dinner.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” It was bittersweet knowing Sukuna was leaving to the same place you were but going to sit at completely different places, on opposite sides of the dining hall. You desperately wanted to ask to eat with him, to extend the moment you two were having, but your social rank prevented you from being the one to make the first move.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you going to eat dinner?” Grabbing the door, Sukuna slowly pulled it open, ignoring the shocked looks from passersby as he started to make his exit.

“I am but-”

“Then c’mon, let's go.” With half his body already out the door, Sukuna paused when he saw you weren’t making any move. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go on without me.”

“I want to go with you.” Quirking a brow, Sukuna swayed on his feet for another moment before getting fed up with waiting and grabbing onto your sleeve, yanking you from your room and into the hall.

All eyes were on you and you knew there would be a lot of questions hurled your way sooner or later about what was going on with the two of you. Someone as high ranking as Sukuna wasn’t seen with new recruits, especially not coming out of their workspaces.

“Now let’s go, I’m fucking starving.” Sliding a hand up to the collar of your robes, Sukuna held a fistful in his hand and made you walk with him down the hall.

“Sukuna, you don’t have to be friendly with me anymore, I already held my end of the deal.”

“Why should I stop? I liked hanging out with you, (Y/N). Unless you don’t want to hang out with me anymore.” His grip softened a little and you grasped his wrist.

“No, I do! I-I really do! It’s just, you’re such a high rank and-”

“So what?”

“So, it’s not really heard of for us to mingle!”

“What’re you talking about, I mingle with witches all the time!”

“Yeah but they’re more senior than I am.” Letting out a sharp grunt, Sukuna stopped abruptly and turned you to face him.

“Fine. (Y/N), as your superior I order you to have dinner with me. Happy now?” Without waiting for an answer, Sukuna began to walk again. “And if you give me any more shit, I’ll make you run up a hundred mountains when I train you.”

“You want to train me?” Sure, witches received some physical training but a majority of your learning was focused on magic.

“I think it’s only fair since I learned a bit of magic today.” Getting into the line to enter the dining hall, Sukuna finally released your collar.

“I’d like to learn from you.” Giving him a bashful smile, you were mentally clearing your schedule in preparation for the day.

“You might fall even more in love with me, I can’t wait to read the notes you pass around about me afterwards.”

“God, you’ll never let me live that down will you?” Slapping your hands over your face, you felt the urge to bang your head against the wall.

“Never.” Laughing at your misfortune, Sukuna nudged you forward and into the dining hall. “Now go get some food, I’ll save my biggest fan a seat next to me at my usual table.” Leaving you all alone and dying of embarrassment, Sukuna walked to a group of other knights, his loud and boisterous voice easily carrying over the others in the room.

Gathering all the pieces of your dinner, you looked out at the massive dining hall, crammed with knights, witches and other civil servants just trying to make it. Scanning over the tables, you could see gaggles of knights but not the one you wanted to see.

“(Y/N)!” Just as you’d given up searching and turned away, Sukuna yelled your name, somehow cutting through all the noise. Looking over your shoulder you saw Sukuna standing on a table and waving at you once you made eye contact. The seat next to him was completely empty, a space big enough for you to sit and eat at.

“C-coming!” You yelled back, unsure if he even heard you until you received a big thumbs up and Sukuna jumped off the table. With scalding cheeks, you gripped your plate tighter and rushed over to the table, eager to spend more time with your new friend.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 1

... I have no self-control do not perceive me

Marinette stared at the pile of bright red, yellow, and green clothes on the ground. It was all she’d done in the five-ish minutes since she’d portaled onto the scene. Just… stared.

It wasn’t like there was much else to do, anyways. Red Robin was currently beating the absolute fuck out of the person that had the audacity to disintegrate his brother right in front of him. It wasn’t like she could even fix it because the witch had been out cold before she had been able to pull Red Robin off to get a hit in so she could use her lucky charm.

So, she stared.

It was weird. She could almost feel a person inside the clothes but… maybe that was the residue or the ashes or whatever gets left behind when you zap a person out of existence? She didn’t really want to check, to be honest. Gross.

Eventually, though, she hesitantly leaned down and brushed her hand over it, trying to find the energy and get rid of it because it was really uncomfortable --.

… oh hell no that pile of clothes did not just fucking giggle at her.

She narrowed her eyes and carefully lifted up the bottom of the shirt, only to yelp and fall back. She scrabbled on the gross Gotham alley ground until her back hit Red Robin’s arm and he was forced to pause or risk hitting a meta (which would not have been good for his health).

“What?” He hissed.

She swallowed thickly. “That’s a child.”

“... what?” Red asked, all the anger bleeding from his tone in his confusion.

“We let Batman’s kid turn into a baby,” she whispered… then, it sunk in more. “We let Batman’s kid turn into a baby.”

He straightened on top of the thing that was really more bloody pulp than person at this point. “What do you mean ‘we let Batman’s kid turn into a baby’?”

But she didn’t really get a chance to answer because the baby chose that exact moment to be sick of being suffocated under all the armor and pushed it off.

Red Robin gulped. Because, yep, that was Robin as a baby. Batman was going to kill them.

Except he wasn’t going to kill them. Because Batman doesn't kill. No, Batman would find something even worse and that would suck.

The baby -- Robin? Should she still call him that mentally? -- giggled at their pain. Like an asshole.

They were so fucked.

He’d let B’s favorite kid get turned into a baby. Was there a way to get unadopted? Because if there was it was totally going to happen. Or maybe his dad would just cut him off because he was 19 now and could just get kicked out.

No. Nope! Not going to happen. No. He could fix this.

“Okay. Okay okay okay. We need a plan,” he heard himself saying.

Ladybug scoffed. “We? I was barely even here, this is on you.”

“Leave me alone to deal with this and I swear to god I will tell B that you did it.”

She paled. “You wouldn’t. No way.”

“Yes way. So, help me think of something.”

The baby giggled and started crawling over and both of them averted their eyes because, unfortunately, the child did not get baby clothes to go with his random transformation. Baby Damian didn't seem to care as he reached them and started climbing on Ladybug since she was closest. At least it wasn’t him. He did not want to see his adoptive brother’s… ew.

Ladybug made a gagging sound and then quickly summoned a lucky charm. She kept her face turned away as much as her neck would physically allow as she fumbled her way through swaddling the child in a polka-dotted blanket.

And then her shoulders slumped a little. “Great. Great. This is… great,” she muttered, picking up the bundle o’ baby.

He let himself look down now that it was safe.

“Alright, we need to go to another dimension where time moves faster,” Ladybug said after a few seconds. “And then we wait for him to age… fifteen-ish years. Best way to not make Batman notice.”

“... what about us? We also age.”

“Huh…? Oh. Right. You’re human.�� She pulled off the glasses she was wearing and blinked a few times before handing it over. “Congrats on your upgrade. The tiny horse god is named Kaalki. She likes cake.”

“The tiny --?” He let out the world’s manliest screech as his eyes landed on the floating bug horse hybrid thing holy shit no no no no no the sci fi movies didn’t prepare him for this shit.

Kaalki looked a little offended but then her eyes landed on the baby and she gasped. “Aw, baby humans are always so cute.”

“Great, Kaalki, you take it,” said Ladybug.

Kaalki did try, to her credit. It just so happened that the approximately one-year-old baby was a lot bigger than the… whatever she was. Tim was refusing to believe that this was a god. Too many implications. He already had something to have a breakdown over, he didn’t need another thing right now, thank you very much.

Tim rested his head in his hands but he had more things to worry about than the blood that he was accidentally streaking through his hair.

“Okay. Okay. We can go to another dimension and try and raise him. Maybe we can make it have a ratio of one month here for every year there so any differences could be blamed on that.”

“Ya!” Said baby Damian. He probably didn’t actually know what was going on but he sure seemed excited so that was cool.

Ladybug sighed and nodded. “Great. You get food and money and clothes and I’ll take this lady to the cops… and I guess I’ll watch the kid until you get back because your dad cannot know.”

They shook on it.

This may be the dumbest idea that she’d ever had, and that was saying something. She didn’t know if she could trust Red Robin on this one, they hardly ever worked together. What if he just left her alone with this kid and let her try and figure this out on her own?

No. He wouldn’t do that. He was the last person known to be with Robin. Robin going missing would be bad for him, too. And, besides, she was pretty sure that he was a duty-driven person based on what she’d heard, she just had to hope that he saw this as his duty, too.

She turned the baby in her arms to get more comfortable as she waited for him to (hopefully) come back.

Part of her wanted to try and find someone from this world to reverse this but she didn’t know any outside of her, Adrien, Alix, and (now) Red Robin. Not on a personal level. Not enough that she knew for sure that they wouldn’t blab to Batman about it.

So, no, this is what she was doing.

But she had things to do. So, she pulled out her yoyo-phone-hybrid-thingy and wedged it against her ear.

“Chaton,” she said the moment he picked up. “You’re alone, right?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Great. I, Ladybug, relinquish the Miracle Box and name Chat Noir the new guardian.”

“WHAT --?!” He didn’t get to finish as a box dropped on his lap and knocked the wind out of him.

“Just for, like, a year and a half. Sorry. Bye!”

“DON’T JUST ‘BYE’ ME WHAT THE --?!”

She hung up and closed the yoyo, hooking it back to her belt and ignoring it when it started buzzing again.

She looked down at Robin, who was squinting up at her. She returned the squint. Why was this baby so quiet? She didn’t get it. Surely, he should have been crying at this point.

“Do you still… remember things?” She asked, hoping against all hope that maybe he had retained his memories at the very least.

Robin smiled at her, but it was the blank-eyed baby smile that meant he wasn’t really understanding her. She bit down a curse.

Great. So, she’d not only gotten a baby but she’d gotten a fucking weird one. Great.

Tim left a note for his family saying that he, Damian, and Ladybug were bored and were going dimension hopping. His family would probably be suspicious but, hey, at least it wouldn’t be his problem for a good fifteen years on his end.

And, yeah, he knew this was probably one of his dumber plans but… it wasn’t the dumbest. And he was always one to commit when it came down to it. One time he had faked being shot and dealt with crutches for an entire year just to convince Vicki Vale that he wasn’t Red Robin. He had no fears that he couldn’t see this through.

Ladybug, though? A total mystery. She did nearly everything on a whim as far as he knew. She hopped from city to city fighting crime for absolutely no reason outside of boredom and made up all of her plans on the fly. No, he was a bit concerned about her ability to keep doing it.

So, he went as quickly as he possibly could. There was no rhyme or reason to what he was grabbing. He was just… putting stuff in there. There was money and three watches to help them move between dimensions, yes, but there was also a fanta orange and a copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy and exactly seven pairs of socks.

… yeah, he had the necessities. Probably.

He nearly got out the door before he realized he was still in his crime-fighting gear and he quickly shucked it all off and tossed it into the tub so the blood wouldn’t track any more than it already had. He did not need to avoid Batman’s wrath only to end up on the receiving end of Alfred’s.

He pulled on the first hoodie and jeans he could grab and looked around to make sure he hadn’t left anything of importance.

Okay. Now he was ready to go.

Marinette was awkwardly bouncing the baby when Red Robin finally showed up.

… not that she would have recognized him if she hadn’t felt Kaalki hovering in his pocket. In her eyes, he was just a random white guy wearing shades in the middle of the night.

She glanced up at him and gave him an awkward smile.

“Ready?”

He smiled back and held out two watches. Neither fit baby Robin so she prepared herself to choke out a literal baby holy fuck what even was her life.

“Which dimension should we go to?”

“Preferably one without miraculi,” Marinette said. “I don’t want to know what happens if there’s two of the same god in a dimension.”

He nodded slowly. “Probably best if Batman doesn’t exist, either, he’d probably notice my existence.”

“... so… no heroes at all?”

“Looks like we’re going cold turkey,” Red Robin said in a tone that was probably supposed to be joking but just came out flat.

She pushed herself to her feet and waited as he scrolled through the millions of dimensions.

Finally, he came upon one and she added the coordinates to her and Robin’s watches.

She readied Robin’s watch against his neck and tried to ignore the kid’s sudden squirminess.

“3… 2… 1…”

They were gone in a whirl of blue light.

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses

#yes i wrote timari parenting dami #for no reason #while in the middle of a completely different fic #but listen #... its cute??#yeah no i have no excuse #i just wanted to write cute things ;-;#into the unkown #maribat #timari #timmari #timinette #shutterbug #tim drake #red robin #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

gentle hands ( can we slow dance? ) | s. tomura

➳ tags ;; fluff, ooc shiggy probably but i do not care, role reversal

➳ wc ;; 790

➳ a/n ;; no i dont simp for shiggy yes i am writing this and it is @/saintdabis fault. vic this is on u and u alone.

➳ plot ;; shigaraki reflects on love when you offer a hand to hime

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

“Do you wanna slow dance?”

He thinks your joking at first, bristling under the implication of your words. He blinks at first but you’re serious - like completely serious. You’ve got the most honest look on your face (maybe his least favorite thing about you) and you’ve got a hand stretched out to him. It’s a genuine question, he knows.

Unable to hide his feelings, he frowns at you and you have the audacity to laugh. It’s gentle and unassuming - open to him. He stays in his seat, stiff.

“What are you talking about,”

You don’t acknowledge his tone or his agitation. You don’t even really seem all that bothered by it. His heart flutters but he doesn’t know how to tell you that so he simply huffs.

“Why the hell do you wanna slow dance? There’s not any music,”

You shake your head and flash your phone at him. There’s a love song on it, an old one from what he can tell. He knows it, you’ve played it before. For him, before but he ignores that details. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why’re you listening to that?”

You shrug. It’s nonchalant but a grin crosses your face. It’s a dead give-a-way that you’re teasing him. He finds you to be too much but he doesn’t know how to tell you. He doesn’t know how to deny you either.

Overwhelming. You’re too much, Shigaraki feels this more than anything. You stand and stretch - feet padding on old wood floors and you hold out your hand. You take your headphones out and the song plays from the speaker of your phone.

He could just deny you. He could easily tell you to stop or leave him alone. He could do so many things but he doesn’t know how to. To deny any chance of love from you would be his greatest folly.

He takes your hand, his gloved one in yours and stands in front of you. He’s stiff but you’re not expecting much else - and you’re beaming. Shigaraki briefly wonders what you were in a past life. Maybe, if he’d met you in another universe, you would also stand togehter like this. And maybe it’d be easier and less constricting to love you.

There’s a world in which loving you in moderation is an option. But he doesn’t live there - he lives here. Here where he can’t help but want to slow dance with you even though it’s so overwhelming. And all this intimacy feels like it should come with consequences. Love has always proved to follow with cold.

A bitter and sore winter that nips at his fingers. Unforgiving grief whenever Shigaraki tries to love.

You’re beaming, smiling ear to ear and he’s most just trying to wipe the blush of his face. Love could never be a choice, he doesn’t think. If he had to guess - love is a would that never stops bleeding. It will take your senses and you will let it. It will make you slow-dance in an empty bedroom.

“D’ya know how?”

“Obviously not,”

You shake your head, a hand on his waist. You smile at him, warm and pleasant and pretty. Too much.

“Just follow my lead, okay?”

He wants to reply with something snarky about not having a choice but within seconds you’re moving. Your foot falls back and his goes forward, and suddenly your chest to chest. Two bodies moving in synchronicity -like how heavenly bodies move through space. He moves and then you move and it’s fluid.

And once he’s gotten the hang of it, he realizes he has no place to look but your eyes. They’re full of something inexplicable and affection. His face drops into your shoulders - he’s too embarrassed to think straight.

How does he tell you he likes it? He likes this feeling so much he feels like he’s going to fall to his knees. This part of him is so human, he flinches when he sees it. Your hand so easily in his. You’re light laugh and smile. The sun closing in until the room is painted in a soft blue. This love is so melancholy - it’s perfect and tragic all at once. If he could stay in just one place, it would be here. Slow dancing with you.

The song plays for a few long minutes, and when it loops - once or twice or three times, he doesn’t say anything. He holds your waist close to his and he takes an inhale of your scent. Like soap and clean clothes and home.

You asked him to slow dance, but really, he never stood a chance

. He simply moves with you like heavenly bodies must. One step at a time.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

#shigaraki x reader #bnha x reader #writing tag #please do not percieve me

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wartsetal · 2 years

Text

@witchofwarmth wrote:

Olruggio had never felt such scorching rage towards his friend before. Never a time he remembered, anyway.

Which is exactly the fucking problem, isn’t it?

He’s glad to be wearing his cloak. The heavy fabric hides how much he’s trembling with the force of his anger, and how his fingers buckle the shape of Qifrey’s hat in his hand. The brim is unpinned; glyph beneath stark against the white fabric.

What did you do to me? What did you take from me?

It had been an accident. Or inexplicable curiosity. Something about the pin holding Qifrey’s hat together had started bothering him, kept drawing his attention whenever the man took off his hat - like he expected him to pull it out - a shiver of anxiety crossing his chest. Which made no sense at all, then. It was only a hat.

Except, when Qifrey had left it unattended and Olruggio had decided to sate this strange urge to pull it himself...

He hadn’t even known memory glyphs could be reversed, not by simple recall - hadn’t that been what Qifrey had discovered in the Tower? But how could he even trust his word on that anymore. The sight of it brought back flashes, segments of a memory he couldn’t fully retrieve, of Qifrey... forcing the hat onto his head. More than once. Expression something fearsome, visceral, deaf to his own pleas for Qifrey to stop.

The memory had started his body quaking - some emotion between fear and betrayal washing over him - and by the time Qifrey had found him, still staring at the glyph beneath the brim, it had crystallised into agony.

Perhaps the worst part about his anger is that it’s for himself. Against Qifrey. And it felt selfish.

“We... need to talk,” he’d said, dangling the hat by the ribbon. “About what you did to me.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.”

What a joke.

“Then how did you mean to hurt me, Qifrey?” he spits, “You of all people... I thought you at least knew the value of memory.”

You could argue Quifrey had been cornered all his life. Had always just been an animal desperately pacing a cage, whether he knew it or not. But not like this. The way Olruggio holds his old tassel so carelessly, hat hanging from it like something vile, makes Quifrery’s stomach turn to ice, and he’s frozen there in the kitchen, this slightly too small room that has been their safe haven in the world for years now. And Quifrey is cornered, his feet glued to the floor. Even in the moments when he took Olruggio’s memory... It was never because of this.

His heart is stuttering and his expression is blank because he knows but doesn’t want to know that this is the moment when he finally loses him. He didn’t want it to be like this. Hurting Olruggio was inevitable but if Quifrey had just managed to sneak away...

And yet a voice at the back of his head twists horribly and says You would’ve taken the cowardly way out and run away rather than face his rightful anger.

And: Isn’t it better for him to hate you?

Yes... Quifrey wants to protect Olruggio, of course he does, but wasn’t his habit of still clinging on to him through all this always selfish? Perhaps the most selfish thing he’s ever done in his life.

And it has hurt Olruggio. Immeasurably.

Why did I think I could have this?

“...” His mouth opens and then falls closed again hopelessly.

There aren’t any words that can make it better, that’s the thing. Not even lies.

“Olruggio, I...” I can’t tell him the whole truth. It will endanger him. If I told him I’d have to take it away again. “I cherish you more than anyone...”

He has nothing to offer. He’s cornered with nothing.

He deserves so much more than I can give him.

“I would never... change you. I was so careful not to change you. But...”

These words aren’t helping. He has nothing to fix this. He’s losing him.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

He can’t deny anything. He has betrayed the trust of his dearest friend. Over and over.

#ha ha thanks i'm totally fine : )#witchofwarmth #witchofwarmth thread 05 #long post

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imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

Partnership

Pairing: Sky x reader

Summary: Sky gets hurt on a hunt for a Burned One. You use your powers to take away his pain until help arrives nearly killing yourself.

A/N: I have no idea how these powers work so please don’t come for me, haha. I tried researching a little on the powers of a mind fairy, but didn’t really find anything.

“He’s never going to let us go past the barrier, you know.” Sky knows you’re right but he also can’t just keep waiting while Silva is slowly dying. The only father figure he truly remembers and now Sky is slowly losing him too.

“We can’t just sit here and do nothing!” He’s pacing the room so you grab his wrist to stop him from moving and focus on you. It’s not hard to tell that he’s doing everything in his power to stand still.

“I’m not saying we do nothing. I’m saying we don’t tell Silva.” Realisation hits him. This might just be the dumbest thing you and Sky have ever done, but you like Mr. Silva. And more importantly, you love Sky. So if you can do anything to help, you’ll do it. It only takes the two of you an hour to get ready.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted out.” He caresses your cheek to let you know that it truly is okay if you don’t want to do this. You’re standing right at the edge of the barrier. One more step and the protection it offers is lost.

“This right here is a partnership. Where you go, I go.” To prove your point, you take the final step forward crossing through the barrier. You’re rewarded one his private smiles reserved for very few people and it’s enough to melt your heart. There’s a brief moment where you allow yourself to revel in that feeling and then it’s time to get serious. There can be no distractions when hunting. It’s hard enough as it is and you can’t afford to get hurt. Closing your eyes, you let your mind reach out to try and sense the presence of others - specifically a Burned One. Your theory is that they must’ve been humans at some point. Or at least human enough to have some sort of conscious mind meaning you should be able to feel their feelings. In some sense, you can. It’s not so much a specific feeling, it just feels like pain and chaos.

“Oh my,” you say stumbling a little. The pain is overwhelming, like they’re still burning somehow.

“Are you okay?” Instantly, Sky is by your side holding you up.

“I feel it,” you manage to get out through gritted teeth as you focus on locating the creature. Beads of sweat form on your forehead but you’re strong enough to do this. Strong enough to focus through the pain.

“This way,” you say starting to walk. Sky never lets go of you as you’re walking. A small part of you can sense his fear but you push it aside. You don’t have room to focus on anything other than the Burned One. It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you track the Burned One before actually reaching it but at some point, the sun disappeared.

“Stop,” you whisper. You see it - right through the tree branches. Sky notices it too and quietly draws his sword. This is the hard part. You’re meant to try and enter its mind and influence its senses so Sky can get close enough to kill it. Two deep inhales before you give him the sign that you’re ready to go. Trying to dull the Burned One’s sense is more difficult than you expected but when you finally manage to latch on, you hold on for dear life. Sky raises his sword and pierces the creature right where the heart would be. It screeches and falls to the ground convulsing.

“Here!” you yell throwing a knife in Sky’s direction. It lands right by his feet and without hesitation he puts it through the Burned One’s skull. It stops moving altogether and you cannot believe that you actually managed to kill it. Except you didn’t. Just as Sky turns his back to it, the Burned One gets on its feet and smashes Sky into a tree knocking him unconscious. For a second everything just stops. It’s like time is going in slow motion as you grab the sword from the ground and burrow the sword right in the middle of the chest. You hit its core and this time you feel it die. In a matter of seconds you’re right there next to Sky. A branch has pierced through his abdomen and he’s losing so much blood. You can feel his pain as if it were your own.

“Sky, wake up please.” Suddenly, you’re 5 years old again waking up your parents after a nightmare. He slowly comes to groaning from the pain.

“What do I do?” Tears threaten to spill but you need to stay calm. You’re too far from school for you to carry him back and you didn’t bring a phone with you.

“It’s not so bad,” he whispers always trying to protect you but your insides are screaming because of his pain.

“You’re lying through your teeth, soldier.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He closes his eyes but you force him to keep them open. He can’t fall asleep now because you’re scared he won’t wake up again.

“You’re losing too much blood. This isn’t good,” you say leaning your forehead against his. That’s when it hits you and you could kick yourself for not realising this sooner. You’re a mind fairy, so you can reach out and lead Farah know you need help. It takes more effort than you’d like and you know it’s because you’re losing strength. But you manage to tell her your location. Now you just have to hold on until they get here.

“Tell me what to do, Sky. Do you want me to move-”

“No!” He tries to laugh but he’s out of breath so it makes him cough instead. You take his hand and try to focus only on the pain.

“I’ll make it better,” you whisper as you take the pain from him.

“You don’t have the strength to do that,” Sky tries to object but he can’t do much. At this point, he’s too weak to even remove his hand from your grasp.

“I can help. Just let me help.” This time he doesn’t object. He knows you well enough to know that he won’t change your mind. If the roles were reversed, he’d do the same thing.

“Stay with me,” you whisper when his eyes close again. You press your lips against his feeling his feverish skin. He has to survive this.

“Always,” he replies sounding weaker than ever. You don’t see them arrive. You don’t remember them transporting you back to the school. You pass out before they even reach you. When you come to, you’re lying in your bed with no Sky. The second you try to stand, someone is there to push you back.

“He’s right here, don’t you worry.” Mr. Silva smiles silently thanking you. It makes it all worth it to know that you and Sky did get the right one and that he appears to be healed now. He quietly exits the room when you give up trying to leave the bed.

“You need rest, soldier.” You’d know that voice anywhere. You can’t help the small smile on your face when he comes closer.

“You saved my life.” The joking tone has left his voice completely now, “they said that if you hadn’t taken so much of my pain, my body would’ve given in to the stress and my heart would’ve stopped.” You don’t even care about the what or the how or the why. All that matters to you is that you’re both alive and that you saved Silva.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He cracks a smile and your heart suddenly grows two sizes.

“You know I love you, right?” He’s holding your hand tightly. His eyes betray him. He’s not as calm and collected as he’d like to appear.

“I love you. And I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I thought I’d lost you. You didn’t scare me, you broke me in half.” You pat the space next to you and he carefully crawls into bed with you wrapping his arms around you. The smell of him calms you down better than any medication might do. You’re almost ready to fall asleep again when you hear him say: “I can’t do this shit without you. I need you alive, you hear me?”

“If there ever comes a choice, I choose you, Sky. I need you to live because a world without you just doesn’t make sense.” It’s an argument you’ll never ever settle but you don’t mind spending the rest of your life arguing about it.

“You need rest. You’re talking like a crazy person,” he soothes you gently tracing patterns on your arm.

“Kiss me,” you reply not willing to give into sleep just yet. He complies with your request and lightly brushes his lips against yours. It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. You place your hand on his neck and deepens the kiss.

“Go to sleep. I promise I’ll be here ready with as many kisses as you’d like when you wake up.”

#fate the winx saga #winx saga #winx #sky x reader #saul silva #silva #farah #fate #danny griffin

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onbeinganangel · 3 years

Text

warmup ficlet for @the-starryknight! she picked 'i know we’re not together but i might die today so i’m going to kiss you just in case there is no later' from this wee list of kisses and asked me to drarry it up and I rubbed my hands together in glee knowing fully well i was about to put together a hell of an angst sandwich

not beta'd, not edited, just angst with a happy ending directly from my heart to yours! (cw: some canon-style mentions of blood, violence, injury and also kind of patient/healer relationship)

damned if you do it and damned if you don’t

(draco/harry, 1.8k)

Draco had pictured it so often throughout his life he sometimes couldn’t honestly believe he had made it all the way to twenty-seven.

He remembers saying it after being thrown on his arse by the family Abraxan. He’d been very little, then. Five or six, maybe. He’d cried, big fat tears running down his face, and when his Mother finally managed to pull his tiny fists down and stop him from hiding his crying behind them, he’d announced, “Maman, I am dying.” She had assured him he very much wasn’t. They’d had scones with big heaped spoonfuls of clotted cream and raspberry jam in the garden and he’d soon forgotten about his fall.

A few years later, he fell off his broom and straight into the lake. Dobby had spelled him dry to avoid him getting in trouble and he was still heaving, coughing up water and panicking when he told the Elf, “Dobby, I am dying.”

Then there was the incident at Hogwarts. He still felt the sharp talons on his skin way after the hippogriff was far, far away, as he bled, holding onto the gashes on his arm and announced to the whole class, “I am dying, it’s killed me!”

Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, it was more constant. It was the heavy burn of the Mark settling on his arm, it was the feeling of all his organs lighting up in pain and his bones breaking under Crucio after Crucio, it was the sounds of Nagini slithering outside his bedroom door at night, the sickening thud of death, the unsettling screaming, his aunt’s shrill nails-on-chalkboard voice, Greyback’s growls. A neverending chant of “I am dying, I am dying, I am dying, I am dying” inside his head.

It was confiding in a ghost, it was crying because the fear of failure was so intense he reckons he would have preferred to be dead then, it was the only person he believed was actually kind and pure and incapable of willingly inflicting pain on anyone slashing him open and leaving him for dead on a bathroom floor. Draco had looked at Snape, murmuring spell after spell over him, and he’d whispered, “I am dying.”

It was learning how to be numb, how to not feel, how to keep everyone out of his mind and away from his thoughts, it was the paralysing terror of crawling around in the shadows, the bone-deep dread of dropping leftover bread rolls on the floor by the bars on the dungeon and kicking them swiftly into the other side, where they kept his classmates. It was sneaking a blanket or two down and saying to himself, “If they find out…”

It was the persistent horror of knowing you don’t believe in what you’re doing and knowing you’re damned if you do it and damned if you don’t. Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, Draco would lie in his bed at night — his own at home, his own in the dorms, Pansy’s in the girls’ dorms when it got bad, and he would say it to himself, hoping it would become true, “I am dying.”

But he hadn’t. Despite all odds, Draco is happy. Twenty-seven. He’s got friends, a flat, a job he loves and he’s good at. He’s no longer spat at on the streets. He survived, he made amends, he managed it all. Most of all, he had managed not to die.

Until now, that is. This time he’s pretty certain he won’t be afforded such luck. He feels the curse hit him square on the chest. It’s his own fault, really, for not realising there was someone already in the room he entered. He’d been too busy throwing a rather flourished Incarcerous across the room at the two potions dealers he’d been running after for the past five minutes to notice the third man.

Draco is falling backwards before he has time to even think about anything, his wand clanking noisily seconds before he joins it on the floor.

Then: “Incarcerous.” He hears it — muffled but there. And after, “Fuck, Draco.”

He’s way too familiar with the way his Auror partner works not to know it’s him when the strong arms wrap around him and pull him up. “Oh, Merlin,” he hears. His eyes flutter back open for a couple of seconds and he can tell he was right, even if it’s all blurry: red robes, orange hair, worried blue eyes.

Fear. “I am dying,” he thinks. “Harry,” he says.

“You’re gonna see Harry alright,” Ron says. “He’s gonna have words about having to heal you again,” it’s almost like a joke. Like a Ronald-typical joke. But there’s an edge of worry there. There’s panic. Ronald doesn’t panic.

And it dawns on him. Draco tries to look down but it’s all red. The burgundy of his robes, the sticky dark red of drying blood on his hands and the fresh and vivid blood still pouring out of his chest. He’s not gonna make it to St. Mungo’s, he’s never going to make it to Harry.

“I am dying,” he says, and Ron makes a noise that can only be described as half agony, half agreement.

It smells like St. Mungo’s when he wakes up thinking “I am dying.” Very faintly, he hears the same voice he always hears in his dreams. Maybe he is dead. The voice never sounds like this in his dreams, though: disembodied, frantic, quick. Draco catches half words, half sentences, half conversations that don’t make sense. A different voice is saying “just do it” and “you’re powerful enough” and “sod protocol” and “I am his partner, I brought him here.” The voice from his dreams responds with things like “unstable” and “I don’t know” and “can you please try” and a “I can’t get in touch with her” and “not without consent forms” and a louder, angry “he’s not going to d—“

Draco tries to move towards the voice.

“Draco!” Says the first voice and three pairs of feet come towards him.

“Don’t try to open your eyes, don’t try to talk, don’t try to move, okay? We have stopped the bleeding for now, but we’re still trying to reverse the curse.”

“Harry.” His Harry.

“Yes, hello. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“I am dying,” Draco croaks out.

“I won’t let you.”

Draco wants to speak. He wants to say “I am dying, I don’t want to die without telling you,” but he has no strength. His thoughts are going faster than the newest Firebolt as he hears Harry tell whoever else is in the room (Ron?) to leave. He wonders if this is it. This what they show you in the films: your life flashing before your eyes right before you die. He thinks of Harry shaking his hand after his Auror graduation ceremony. “Well done, Malfoy,” he’d said. He thinks of that first time he’d been invited over to Ron and Hermione’s, a few weeks after he became Ron’s partner, and Harry had laughed at his stories, lips wine-red and plump, eyes kind like he’d never expected. He thinks of every moment of almost in between them, every moment where Draco considered blurting it out, saying what was on his mind. The Christmas Gala as he towered over Harry and fixed the little chain on his robes for him, and that night at that dingy club for Hermione’s birthday where they’d stared at each other for forty minutes and when Draco had decided he couldn’t take it anymore, he found out that Harry had left. Or just last month when they’d gone out to buy a housewarming present for Luna and ended up eating leftovers on Harry’s sofa, exhausted from people and walking. There are too many. Too many instances of hesitation, too many “nearly-but-not-quites.”

And he’ll die and won’t ever get the chance to tell him, to kiss his handsome, stupid, precious face, and it aches — it hurts almost as much as that spot just to the left of his breastbone where the Curse had hit, where he was profusely bleeding not long ago.

“Closer,” he manages, very quietly.

Harry approaches, but not close enough, not even close enough for Draco to grab at him.

“Cl— clos—uh—closer,” he tries again.

And Harry’s right there, by his bed and he looks beautiful in his Healer robes (unheard of, really) and Draco is blinking his view into a sharper focus and listing all the things he knows he loves, the things he doesn’t want to forget: the white-ish storm of a scar that slashes through Harry’s eyebrow, the shiny (shinier than usual?) green eyes, the touch of stubble, the slightly crooked nose, the lips — oh, the lips, plump and sweet looking and Draco will never get to find out just how sweet. And then, he has to do it. Because if he’s going to die anyway, he may as well use his last breath on this.

He pushes himself off the pillow slightly and his hand pulls Harry’s green robes closer until their lips meet, clumsily and hard — Harry not expecting it, Draco waning from the efforts of pulling Harry closer, but Draco will die knowing he’s kissed Harry. And if there’s no later, at least he’s done it. At least Harry knows.

“Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,” Harry says, and pushes him back down. Gently, like everything he does.

“But—“

“I know, darling. Me too.”

Darling? Harry… too?

“I’m going to heal you, okay? I’m going to heal you and we’ll do that again. I’ll take you to dinner, or brunch, I know you like brunch. Or just coffee. We’ll go to the pictures. I’ll hold your hand. We’ll go flying. We’ll go clubbing and I’ll dance with you, I promise I will, and I’ll let you tell me how bad I am. I’ll find you a copy of that book you were talking about with Hermione, no matter how much it costs. I’ll throw my name around if I have to, okay? And we’re going to do that again, properly. When I’m not your healer and you’re not hurting. I’m going to heal you now, you just—“ he stops, then, breathing wild and panicked.

Then, a small sob. A kiss to his forehead. Draco doesn’t remember closing his eyes.

“You just hold on, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

And Draco would cry if he had the strength, he would say yes to all those plans and more, but he focuses on the feeling of Harry’s magic sinking into his body like and he holds on, just like he was told to. He holds on, even if he doesn’t know exactly to what. And he thinks maybe he’ll get lucky again, and he’ll stop picturing himself dead like he’s been doing his whole life. Harry’s magic feels like love, like poetry, like cascading words of affection whispered into the space between his ribs, it feels like hope. And Draco holds on and thinks to himself, as loud as a thought can go, “I am not dying.”

#i may actual edit this and pop it on ao3?#i kind of like it?#thank you starry baby for this delicious prompt #warmup ficlets #drarry #m writes #angst with a happy ending #cw blood #cw injury #cw violence

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 12 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Funsies)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

After locking Wei Wuxian into some comically large chains, Wen Chao has him thrown into the dungeon, with an unpleasant surprise.

This Fucking Dog

Being a fan of The Untamed involves occasional second-hand embarrassment, like when they fly on their swords, or the zombies all have the same wig, or a fight sequence moves slower than everybody’s granny. It's ok because each of these things is offset by excellence in acting, story, costumes, weapons, sets, etc.

Then there's this fucking dog.

The department of questionable practical effects really outdid themselves with this thing. Just seeing this awful creation on screen gives me so much cringe squick I can barely look at it. But for you, dear readers, I FORCED MY EYEBALLS to watch the entire dog sequence OVER AND OVER. Then I applied some brightness adjustments and looked at it EVEN MORE.

Let's get desensitized! I’m going all in on this monstrosity.

First, this dog does not ever move its body or its feet. Its legs are totally immobile. It appears to be made of a big sawhorse with a stick for the neck. The head swings up and down and side to side. That’s it.

“Animatronic” is too generous of a term for this thing. The animatronics at Chucky Cheese learned to play musical instruments and host birthday parties decades ago. This dog cannot play an instrument and it has to wait for Wei Wuxian to walk over to it before it can attack him.

When it falls over after Wen Ning K.O’s it, it’s like a chair falling over. It just topples to the side, legs sticking straight out.

(more after the cut)

Next, It has a mouth full of teeth, which opens and closes. And it has drool the texture of Astroglide Extra-Thick Gel. But...no tongue.

Seriously you guys, it literally does not have a tongue. They just sculpted a little bump at the at the bottom of its mouth, despite dogs being known for, like, lolling their tongues out of their mouths at every opportunity.

Moving along, it has dull, lifeless eyes, and its eyelids are visibly disconnected from the rest of its head, like a doll that mechanically shuts its eyes when you lay it down to sleep.

Finally, its fur looks like a fucking muppet, and it has random shiny spots all around its eyes and lips. These are probably supposed to be body fluids of some kind, but they just look like someone was careless with the cra-z-glue.

Xiao Zhan gamely tries to act opposite this ridiculous fail prop, but there is nothing remotely scary about it.

Here is Wei Wuxian being scared. I replaced the animatronic dog with a reversed clip of my dog Pepper asking for a piece of cheese, and I think it looks more convincing this way.

Ok, let's be done with this stupid fucking dog. Wen Ning knocks it out, Wen Chao criticizes it in the morning, and nobody ever speaks of it again.

Wei Wuxian is so mortified to have endured this farce that when Lan Wangji asks him, much later, “why are you afraid of dogs?” he does not say “don’t you remember that time I got chewed on by a giant animatronic dog at Wen Chao’s place?” but instead pretends that this never fucking happened.

Wen Ning to the Rescue

For contrast, the next dungeon scene is a really touching and important encounter between Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian.

Wen Ning comes and knocks out the creature, and gives Wei Wuxian medicine.

Wen Ning is doing this in defiance of his clan and his sister, simply because Wei Wuxian is his friend. Yes, he feels indebted, but Wen Qing saved WWX’s life once, so the tally is already even. Wen Ning is just super attached to Wei Wuxian, and vice versa; WWX calls him Wen-Xiong in this scene.

When Wen Ning explains how to use the medicine, Wei Wuxian changes the subject to ask how WN and his sister are doing. He is bleeding, chained up, high on adrenaline and fear, and what he really wants is to hear how his friends are doing. When Wen Ning talks about Wen Qing’s troubles, Wei Wuxian wishes she would accept help, instead of always going it alone.

Wei Wuxian thanks Wen Ning formally, and tells him no words can express his gratitude. Whether this is a literally correct translation, the gratitude both of these young men feel toward each other transcends words. It will become a driving force in both of their lives as they save each other from increasingly awful situations.

Wen Ning tells Wei Wuxian about the burning of Cloud Recesses....the burning of the half we never visit. It would suck to damage that exquisite set, so I’m ok with that production choice, but creates some cognitive dissonance when characters get upset about the fire.

Wei Wuxian reacts to the news of Lan Wangji’s injury by punching the concrete floor of the dungeon, which is dumb but also highly relatable.

After Wen Ning leaves, Wei Wuxian decides to save the medicine for Lan Wangji, who might not even need it, while WWX is bleeding right now and definitely needs it. No matter how bad things are for him personally, Wei Wuxian is always thinking about ways to help the people he loves, and constantly seeing his own needs as less important than everybody else’s.

Breakfast Time

After his night of terror and maiming, Wei Wuxian emerges as chipper as ever. Almost like he is already an expert at hiding his trauma from the people close to him.

Lan Wangji gives him a careful look, taking in the sight of his ripped clothes and bloody neck and hands.

Jiang Cheng is angry at Wei Wuxian for joking about his injuries, so he shoves him, potentially causing more injuries.

Wei Wuxian laughs off the signs of torture and attempted murder and everyone goes along with it. Nobody knows what happened to him other than "dungeon" and what he looks like right now, and they’re all just like, okey dokey, I guess you’re fine.

He’ll carefully laugh off his months in the burial mounds in the same way, later, and Jiang Cheng will accept it nearly as readily as he accepts this. But by that time Lan Wangji will see right through him.

Nie Huaisang mentions the Lan Clan in the course of discussing breakfast, and then everyone pauses awkwardly because they know that mentioning this will make Lan Wangji think about the recent attack on his home and the deaths of many of his fellow disciples. Whereas if nobody had mentioned it, he totally wouldn't think about it. That's how grief works, right?

Insult to Injury

Wen Chao decides to spend some time gloating about battles and insulting people's families, which he does with Wen Qing standing behind his eyeline so that she can warn Wei Wuxian not to let his brother go off.

Jiang Cheng is not going to let anybody who isn't his mother insult his father like that, but in a reversal of their normal roles, Wei Wuxian restrains him and helps keep him from doing something rash.

Monster Hunting

Wen Chao makes everyone read out loud until Nie Huaisang wisely faints and gets carried off. Then he gathers everyone for a monster hunt. It's unclear why he wants to go monster hunting but he sure does, and bringing the hostages along might make them all die, which would be a nice bonus.

The cultivators wander around en masse in a small section of forest, thoroughly covering every inch of it. This is a great way to hunt for a dead body but not so good for living prey.

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng stand around like bitchy queens at a dance club, talking smack about Wen Chao and his girlfriend.

Wei Wuxian brings out a salty phrase and Jiang Cheng wonders what websites he's been going to.

Dude. Lighten up.

Leave that Boy Alone

Wei Wuxian notices Lan Wangji struggling, and now that he knows the backstory, he's determined to help. Jiang Cheng is determined to stop him.

This is, once again, the fundamental disagreement between the brothers, and it's never going to be solvable. Jiang Cheng's specific dislike of Lan Wangji may be rooted in jealousy, but his belief in not helping outsiders runs a lot deeper than that.

For Wei Wuxian, there is no such thing as having helped enough. If someone is his friend, he will never stop helping them, and he has a lot of friends, and makes new ones wherever he goes. He's always going to be giving something of himself, to the detriment of any conflicting obligations.

Jiang Cheng tells him that Lan Wangji won't accept his help, and Wei Wuxian says that's not the point.

What other people think, want, say, or do, is not going to have any effect on whether Wei Wuxian does what he feels is right. This is a bit of a problem where a person's right to self-determination conflicts with Wei Wuxian's need to help them, as Jiang Cheng will eventually discover.

Jiang Cheng's least effective argument is the one he relies on most often when they disagree: other people's problems are not our responsibility. He's saying this to an orphan who was eating trash and stealing scraps from dogs before Jiang Fengmian came into his life.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem to realize the underlying logic of this argument. If it's wrong for Wei Wuxian to help the people he cares about, it was also wrong for Jiang Fengmian to help Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng loves Wei Wuxian and would willingly die for him, but he, like his mother, rejects the philosophy that brought them together in the first place.

Wei Wuxian walks away from an upset and shocked Jiang Cheng to offer a piggyback ride to Lan Wangji.

...who won't accept it, but who will remember the offer forever.

Writing prompt: Thoughts of an animatronic dog

Soundtrack: Five Nights at Freddy’s by The Living Tombstone

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #chen qing ling #wei wuxian #giant animatronic dog #lan wangji #jiang cheng #restless rewatch the untamed #my gifs #canary3d-original #the untamed spoilers #embarrassment #this dog is why I started writing these #this goddamn dog

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isthisthingeven0n · 3 years

Text

your favourite girl : d.d

brief summary: as well as being one of davids friends, you’re also his fwb. but as time passes by, you can’t help but allow your feelings for him to develop, even if they’ll never be reciprocated. (1.9k)

requested: yes by the sweetest anon, i needed the angst so thank you love! warnings: none that i’m aware of

all my links

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

“So, David’s gone for the night then?” Your roommate, Gee, stands in your doorway as you exit your bathroom after cleaning yourself up and changing into fresh PJs.

“Yeah,” You breathe out as you tug on your duvet, seeing the indent from where he was less than an hour ago, by your side. “sorry, did I wake you?” You ask, turning your attention back to her as a frown etches heavily in her eyes.

“Y/n,” Gee starts, stepping across the threshold into your bedroom and hovers beside you. “how much longer can you kid yourself with this?” She sighs as you collapse down onto your bed with a heavy heart.

“It’s fine, really.” You lie. “We made this arrangement ages ago, and it works for us.” Another lie, it might work for him, but you couldn’t deny the attachment that was forming in your heart for his.

“Remember who you’re talking to here,” Gee chuckles as she sits down on your bed and you lean against her, resting your head on her shoulder. “just don’t let yourself get hurt, okay? Promise me that at least.”

Gee holds her hand up, sticking her pinky finger out as you loop yours around hers. “I promise.” You mutter, hoping this was a promise you could keep to.

“And boom, there she was on the ground cradling her knee!” David laughs, looking through the footage on his laptop whilst Jason and Natalie sit either side of him, you across the room with Ilya.

“It wasn’t my fault, you should’ve warned me you had decided to prank Ilya.” You roll your eyes, catching David’s bright smile briefly directed your way. “Honestly that’s the last time I try and offer my services, David.”

“Come on, Y/n, you love me really.” David jokes, unaware of how heavy those words dig into your heart.

Silence falls for a second as David’s words linger and everyone's attention falls to you. You force a soft laugh from your lips, which seems to please David as he carries on editing, but Natalie remains unconvinced as she keeps an eye on you whilst you scroll through Instagram.

“You wish, Dobrik.” You retort, glancing up from your phone to see him looking back at you with a goofy grin, one reserved for these situations only.

After a while, Ilya shuffles on the other end of the sofa, kicking his feet out and jabs your side unintentionally. “Ow.” You mumble, catching Ilya off guard as he sits upright, rubbing his eyes.

“Shit, did I hit you?” Sleep remains heavy in Ilya’s voice as he reaches out, resting his hand on your arm.

“It’s okay, Ilya, just my side.” You smile, rubbing your side, unaware of the daggers from David being sent in Ilya’s direction.

“Sorry, I’m a wriggler when I sleep.” He winks, and you laugh lightly.

“I’ve had worse, trust me.” You joke with him, nudging his arm away as he lies back down whilst you return to your phone, catching sight of the time. “Oh god, I gotta go.” You quickly rise to your feet, David now averting his focus to you.

“Where you going?” David asks, his eyes refusing to leave you as you gather your things.

“An appointment, but I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You wave to the others, but David stands up and follows you to the front door.

Holding it open for you, David hovers in the doorway as you take your car keys from your bag. “Wanna come over tonight?” He asks, licking his lips.

“Erm, I can’t tonight, maybe tomorrow?” You suggest instead, and David simply nods.

“Okay,” He comments. “good luck with your appointment.” He waves you off as you get into your car and as you go to reverse out, Taylor appears by the gates.

You wait for Taylor to pass you by with her bright smile as she almost skips over to David.

He always looks so happy to see her as he brings her into a tight hug, forgetting anyone else exists. Taylor walks into the house, and David doesn’t even spare you a glance as he closes the front door, slamming it shut.

“Y/n, that you?” Gee calls out as you close the front door.

“Who else would it be? A polite burglar?” You joke back as you kick your shoes off, walking past her room toward your own, but before you reach your bedroom door, you feel a tug on your arm.

Without a moment to react, Gee pulls you into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. “Okay, hi, sorry,” Gee mutters, a wild look of panic in her eyes as she begins to pace around the same ten steps.

“Gee can you stop moving, you’re making me feel motion sick.” You step forward, taking hold of her arms so she finally stands still and faces you. “What on earth is going on?”

“Well, someone knocked earlier and I thought you just forgot your key again, and I answered it and now David is sat in your room waiting for you to come home.” Gee quickly rambles, exhaling deeply as she finishes. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad.” You tell her as hundreds of thoughts rush through your mind. “I just, I told him tonights not good for me, god, why can’t he get the message.” You groan, wishing you could slam your head against the door in peace without stirring David across the hall.

“What happened earlier today?” Gee asks, now crossing her arms as you sigh under your breath. “Because clearly, something did, based on how both of you are acting.”

You quirk a brow at her remark, how was David acting?

“Nothing really, I just told him tonights not good, and I had an appointment this afternoon.” You explain, and Gee chuckles under her breath.

“Maybe he thought you had an ‘appointment’ if you know what I mean.” She nudges you.

“What? No way.” You scoff. “If I met someone else I’d tell him.” You state, knowing you value his friendship above all else, even if he seems to forget that sometimes.

“Well, you can’t leave him waiting forever in there I’m afraid.” Gee reminds you as she stands aside, allowing you to reach for the doorknob.

“What do I say, Gee?” Your voice softens as you look up to her, pleading for some advice.

Lifting her hand up, Gee sticks out her pinky finger. “You made a promise to me last week, don’t let yourself get hurt.”

“I did, didn’t I?” You sigh, lifting your pinky up and looping it around hers. “Okay, I can do this.”

Opening the door, you close it behind you and take a brief moment as you stand in front of your own door, wondering what will happen the next time you exit it.

Pushing back your worries, you open your door and David rises to his feet, rubbing his hands across his jeans.

“Hey,” He speaks up. “how, how was your appointment?” His voice is soft, almost caring as you quietly sigh, removing your jacket and throwing it on your chair.

“Yeah, it was fine.” You brush it off. “Why are you here, David?” You don’t want to waste any time, and clearly, he’s taken aback by your question as his eyes widen for a second as he composes himself.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Seemed a little off when you left earlier.” He shrugs it off uncertainly.

“It’s nothing really. But I told you I was busy tonight, so why are you here?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you catch David’s eyes darting to the bed for a fraction of a second. “Course, that’s why.” You scoff. “Well, I hate to say you’ve had a wasted journey, Dave. I’m not in the mood.” You move forward, opening your bedroom door, but David remains still, frozen on the spot.

“That’s not why I’m here, Y/n.” David comments. “Do you really think that’s all I wanna see you for?” He almost sounds hurt as you lower your gaze to your carpet. “You’re my friend Y/n, before all of this,” Stepping forward, David rests his hand on your forearm and pulls you away from your door and over to your bed. “and I just wanna hang out with you, like old times.”

Looking up, you see his classic smile, the one you’ve genuinely missed that causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach and bees to swarm your mind.

“So, you wanna watch a movie with me?” You suggest, and David nods, taking his usual spot beside you on your bed whilst you search through Netflix.

As you pick a movie to watch, David’s phone pings and he picks it up, smiling down at it. You can’t help but sneak a glance, and the bees swarming your mind become reckless as the butterflies begin to fall into the pit at the bottom of your stomach; it’s Taylor.

“Sorry,” David mutters, unable to wipe the smile from his face as he glances up to you.

“I get it, don’t worry.” You whisper as you curl up under a blanket whilst David remains on top of it as you watch the movie together.

Slowly but surely, David begins to nod off, his head dipping away from yours.

You watch as he turns his back to you, lying on his side as the credits play and you’re left alone once more. “Goodnight, David.” You mutter, hearing a mumble from him in response as you lean over and kiss his cheek, brushing his hair out of his face.

Turning your TV off, you creep out from your bed, leaving David fast asleep as you tiptoe over to Gee’s room.

“Y/n?” Gee whispers as you open her bedroom door, thankful she’s still awake as you rush over to her, unable to stop the tears falling from your eyes. “Oh, Y/n.” She sighs, holding you close in her arms as you sob into her chest.

“I just wish I could be his favourite girl, Gee.” You manage to say through hiccups as you lift your head up and Gee wipes your eyes, a sad smile on her face. “But I made a promise,” You remind yourself. “and it’s about time I stuck to it.”

“You’ll be okay, Y/n.” Gee tells you, knowing it’s true. “Just gotta let your heart heal.” You can feel the pit at the bottom of your stomach starting to close up once again, no longer dragging your heart toward it.

“Yeah,” You breathe out. “thanks Gee.”

As you rise to your feet, you look over your shoulder to Gee’s doorway, swearing you heard a floorboard creak. But as you walk out from her room, nothing is out of place, and your door is as you left it.

Creeping back into your room, you close your door behind you, unaware that David is wide awake with a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind.

“Hey, Y/n?” David whispers as you tug on your duvet, curling up into it.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” You ask softly, thankful for the darkness disguising your puffy complexion.

David shuffles to turn and face you, his hand hesitantly rises and he rests it on your cheek, stroking away stray tears. “It’s okay,” He chuckles. “I just want you to know something, okay?”

“Okay,” You whisper, almost seeing his eyes searching for yours as he shuffles closer, his breath now on your lips.

“You’ll always be my favourite girl, Y/n. Always have been, always will be.”

316 notes · View notes

ri-ahhh · 4 years

Text

good vibes

sometimes best friends get a little curious

warnings: badly written smut

***

“Gray, can you help me with this?”

Inspired by your best friend’s new affinity for minimalism, you had decided to clean out the junk drawer of your nightstand. You had been hit by one of those random whims to do something productive, and the mess in there had been bothering you for months.

But now, even though it’s practically empty and a good few pounds lighter after removing nearly all of its previous contents, you’re struggling to shove the damn thing back into the nightstand. The solid wood is heavy, and the high of accomplishing something is starting to wear off in wake of the frustration that the stupid thing just won’t go in. It’s like a reverse of the prank Jim pulled on Dwight when he jammed his drawers to only half open; yours will only half shut.

The final straw is when you pinch your finger between the drawer and the corner of the opening in the nightstand, and you let the whole thing fall to the floor with a heavy thump that your downstairs neighbors will most definitely not appreciate.

“Ow, fuck!” you exclaim, holding your finger with enough pressure to keep the throbbing at bay for a moment and to check if your nail broke. “Gray!”

A dark head peaks around the doorframe, handsome features drawn in concern. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks, stepping into your bedroom.

It always takes you by surprise somehow, how much space he takes up in here. He’s shirtless and still slightly sweaty, having taken advantage of your apartment gym while you did your cleaning thing.

You pout at him. “I need help.”

Grayson rolls his eyes and chuckles, glancing at the drawer on the ground as he puts two and two together. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says as he strides next to you and squats down so he’s level with the nightstand.

“Shut up,” you mumble, flushing as you suck the little spec of blood off your cuticle (the biggest casualty from your drawer mishap) and shove his giant, rounded shoulder with the other.

He barely budges, and squints at the open space. “There’s something stuck that must have fallen from the top drawer when you took this one out.”

Before you can even think to stop him, he’s pulling the top drawer — your underwear drawer — out of the nightstand now. And there, right where you left it that morning on top of a pile of skimpy lace and cotton, is your hot pink vibrator.

Grayson stares at it for a moment, and you can tell he’s processing what it is before smirking as you gasp and snatch it away from his curious gaze. “Nice.”

You scoff. “Don’t be gross. Girls masturbate too, Dolan.”

“I’m well aware,” he retorts, eyebrow raised at the way you’re hiding the object behind your back as if he’ll forget about it if he can’t see it. “Fingers don’t get the job done?”

You don’t think you’ve ever blushed this hard in your life. But, after all, it’s just Grayson — he’s your best friend. And, with his track list, there’s probably nothing the man hasn’t seen.

“I keep my nails too long,” you say with more confidence than you really have. “Plus it’s just... better.”

“I’ve never seen a girl use one in person,” he says. He looks at you and cocks his head. “You should show me.”

A purely instinctual bark of laughter escapes your lips. “In your dreams.”

“You are,” Grayson admits, his smile cocky but soft. “Way too often lately.”

You pause and consider that, your belly heating and head swimming momentarily at the idea that you might have some semblance of the same effect on him that he does you. “Only because we’ve been spending so much time together the past few weeks.”

“We can over-analyze the reasons later,” he says dismissively. “I’m serious, I’ve only seen these things in porn. I wanna see first hand what they do that I can’t.”

You can’t resist digging at him a little. “And here I thought fuckboy extraordinaire Grayson Dolan had seen it all.”

“I’m not a fuckboy,” he says pointedly. “That implies a certain level of shitty behavior that I don’t believe in.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug. You really look at him for a moment, and much like the urge to clean, a similarly sudden wave of “fuck it” overtakes you. You bring the vibrator back into sight, and watch him look at it curiously again. “You’re telling me you’ve really never had one of your little girlfriends use this with you in the room?”

“Nope, I swear,” he says with an insistent shake of his head, hazel eyes wide as he realizes you’re maybe about to actually agree to his suggestion. “Please?”

Are you really about to say yes to this? You take in his shirtless self, muscles bulging from their recent exertion, skin a leftover honey bronze from the summer, eyes warm, lips pink and inviting...

An idea hits you.

“Fine,” you say, crossing your arms and smirking up at him. “But you have to do it with me. Jerk off, I mean. It’s not fair if I show you mine but you don’t show me yours.”

His arched brows shoot up into his flop of hair with surprise, but it only takes him a second for a wide, crooked smile to break across those lips you were just admiring. “Deal.”

You roll your eyes, but the grin won’t leave your lips. “That was way too easy.”

“What can I say? I have no shame,” Grayson shrugs, dropping the drawer he was still holding onto your bed. He reaches down and picks up your favorite leopard-print thong, letting it dangle from two of his thick fingers. “These are cute, by the way.”

“Don’t push your luck here,” you warn, only half-joking; you’re still a little cautious about this whole plan, no matter what your pussy is telling you right now at the thought of seeing Grayson completely naked.

He follows you without question out to the living room. You choose the couch rather than your bed for a couple of reasons. Easier to see. Less intimacy. He can take his pick of which one he wants to think was your driving force behind it.

You settle on one end of the couch, and he the other. You’re surprised to see the half-hard outline of him already through his sweats, and it’s truly pathetic how fast it has you clenching your thighs together.

“How do we start?” you ask, head tossed back with an embarrassed, breathless giggle. Your toes wiggle next to his against the middle seat cushion. “I didn’t think this far.”

When you look back at him, Grayson is staring at you with a surprising intensity. He’s got a palm over his sweats, right over his dick, and your eyes are drawn there for a hot, sticky second. His hand itself is turning you on, wide and veined and masculine.

“Let’s talk,” he finally says, drawing hour gaze back to his handsome face. “What do you like?”

“What do I like?”

“Yeah. Like... what’s your favorite position?”

You’re catching on. It’s not the most conventional dirty talk, but the simplicity in just learning these new things about him so casually is kind of hot in its own right. The thought alone makes your nipples tighten behind your shirt — his shirt, you’re just now realizing.

You hope he can see them through the thin white fabric as you answer, “Doggy.”

“Mm.” The corner of his lips turn up in a quick smirk and his hand starts to move over his crotch in slow strokes. “I think I like missionary most, to be honest. The kind where I’ve got her legs pushed back or over my shoulders. Super deep. Eye contact. All that.”

Fuck. “So we’re opposites,” you grin, and to Grayson’s visible approval you allow your legs to open some — his eyes zero in on your center, hidden beneath your tiny sleep shorts. “Do you eat pussy? I can’t get the vibe if you do or don’t.”

He looks genuinely offended, and pauses the motion of his hand, eyes meeting yours again. “Of course I do. Wait, do you really get the impression that I wouldn’t?”

You shrug and drop a palm to rest low on your belly. “I just have it on good authority that Ethan does it very well and very willingly. And you guys are so opposite. You just never know.”

Grayson deadpans you, his breathing picking up along with the movement of his hand again. “Are you asking me to eat you out? Because that sounds like a challenge you know I can’t refuse.”

“No. I like the idea of being your first ‘something,’” you say. Grayson’s dark eyes glance to the object in question clutched in the grasp of one hand, then follow the fingertips of your other as they start to trail lightly across your waistband. The heat of his gaze makes your pussy throb, and you’re actually getting more and more excited about this. “And I thought tonight was about what you can’t do.”

“Tonight, maybe. But then there’s always tomorrow,” he says, voice low and gruff. He squeezes his dick through his pants and growls a little. “Fuck. Can we — fuck, your tits look so cute in my shirt. And it’s taking everything in me not to rip off those damn shorts.”

“You wanna see my pussy?” you ask in an almost-whisper, lip caught between your teeth. His words and the neediness behind them flood you with confidence and desire. The vibrator is warm and heavy and apparent in your hand, calling your name as your body heats steadily at the sight and sound of Grayson a mere six feet from you.

“As much as you wanna see my dick,” he counters, and his fingers finally hook teasingly in his own elastic waistband.

You’ll feed his ego, if that’s what he wants. You’d expect nothing less from him — and, to be fair, he’s not wrong.

“That must be a lot, then,” you say, and then you’re both pulling down your pants and underwear until you’re naked from the waist down and he is completely.

Your legs close shyly once your bottoms are discarded to the floor, the hand cupping your pussy trapped between your thighs. You’re nervous again for a few seconds, but then you see his cock wrapped loosely in his big fist, and you can’t help but relax again.

Dicks are ugly, in a general sense, but not Grayson’s, you think. Long and thick, ridged on the shaft and swollen at the tip. You instantly think about what it would taste like, or feel like buried inside you. Because he’s definitely got the vibrator beat in that department.

“Lemme see,” he murmurs.

You take a deep breath and obey, knees still bent but parted as you move your hand from completely covering your center to tracing the smooth skin with your middle finger. Grayson groans, and his hand leaves his dick long enough for him to spit in it for lubrication when he instantly returns it there.

“I can see how wet you are,” he says, and you wonder if he’s even talking to you or just making an observation.

You answer him anyway. “You have a nice dick.” Your fingers migrate to your clit, and you twitch with a little gasp. “Big. I always kinda wondered if you were just compensating.”

“Of course not,” he grins, and it just makes him way too sexy. His teeth gleaming in the low light of your living room, tattoos covering his legs — one of them bent on the couch and the other planted firmly on the floor, muscles hard... you don’t even realize you’re sucking your fingers into your mouth so they’re nice and wet when you bring them back to your clit to start rubbing slow circles in time with the strokes he’s giving his cock.

“Damn,” Grayson mutters. His eyes are wide and fixated on your pussy, and his hand starts moving quicker. The beats of his chest pick up, too. “Can you use it now? Please?”

You nod, starting to feel desperate for release yourself. You push the button a couple of times until the silicone buzzes to life on a medium setting; there’s enough teasing going on between you and Gray, and you don’t need anything other than a good, steady vibe to help get you to the edge.

“This isn’t gonna last long,” you admit, gasping when you trace it against your pussy so it can become coated in your arousal.

If Grayson responds, you don’t hear it, because as soon as you directly stimulate your clit with the vibrator, your mind is going blank as you moan wantonly. Definitely not going to last long.

He speaks, and your eyes open at the sound of his gravelly voice. They lock first on the rapid pumps of his fist over his cock, then on his face with his brows drawn and his jaw clenched.

“Feel good?”

“Really good,” you whimper, tugging on your nipple through your shirt with your free hand. “God, you’re so hot, Gray.”

“Yeah?” His voice turns a little whiny in the sexiest way possible, but still low and a hardwire to your pussy. “You’re fuckin beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.”

You moan quietly and press a little harder with the vibrator and finding the perfect spot with the perfect pressure. Your back arches and you instinctively fling a hand behind your head to find a grip on the back cushion of the couch. “Fuck!”

“Oh, shit, are you really gonna cum already?” Grayson asks in disbelief.

You whine out mindlessly in affirmation. Your breaths come sharper, you moans higher pitched. The wet noise of Grayson’s fist moving faster and faster on his cock prompts you to let your eyes open to watch him, and all it takes for you to fall over the edge is to watch him watch you.

Your legs shake and you whine pretty moans as the continuous vibrations drag out your orgasm perfectly. You come down just in time to hear the rough groan and raspy grunts of Grayson cumming too, and open your eyes to the glorious sight of his head tossed back so his thick neck is open and begging to be sucked on. His balls are drawn tight, abs clenching, fingers and chest painted with white streaks that you’re kind of sad you missed.

Something tells you this might not be your only chance to see it happen, though.

You turn off your vibrator when you become far too sensitive to take any more and toss it to the side. Your body slumps into the couch cushions, and the room is silent other than both of your heavy breathing for what feels like ages as you both come down.

Grayson shifts at the end of the couch, and it prompts you to do the same. You reach to the floor for your shorts and pull them hastily back up your legs, mind still hazy as you sit up and tuck your legs beneath you. You stare at him unashamedly, not feeling nearly as awkward as you think you should, all things considered.

Gray pulls his underwear on, and reaches his hand out to you. You take it with a sheepish little grin, and let him pull you closer.

“So, be honest, was it really the vibrator that made you cum that fast, or did I have any part of that?”

You laugh and slap his chest playfully. “Maybe when I find out what your mouth can do, I’ll consider you competition for the vibrator. You need to be knocked down a peg or two, Dolan.”

“Hm. Well, like I said, we always have tomorrow.”

#literally no one in my inbox #so i took it upon myself to write this on a whim #its v bad and im sorry #dolan twins #grayson dolan #blurb #g blurb

353 notes · View notes

fandompride101 · 3 years

Text

Saving The World

Raven's POV:

"We lost 31% of the earth's molten core, there is nothing we can do," Batman explained to Diana and Clark.

I look over to Damian, who is sitting next to me. His eyes meet mine, and I lean forward for a kiss. When our lips touched, I felt everything that I have been longing to feel for the past two years. I felt loved and no longer alone.

The flash stands up and moves over to Batman and the others. I pull apart from Damian, and we both walk over to the conversation.

"If I just make another flashpoint, we could reverse this." The flash pleads his case.

"No, that is far too dangerous." Constantine steps in. "You could just make another timeline that is ten times worse."

"I don't see any other way." The flash looks at us all. "Do any of you have a better idea?"

There was silence and all you could hear was the wind blowing past us. Soon the earth will grow cold and those who were left on it would surely die. I turn to Damian. I observed his face and I can tell he had no further plan. He looks over at me.

"What?" He whispers.

"I have too," I mumble. I stand to my feet, but Damian grabs my hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I have a plan," I say, just loud enough for the others to hear me.

"And what is it?" Constantine looks as if thinking what I was about to say wouldn't work. He could at least give me a shot.

"You're going to have to trust me." I look at each and every one of them.

Diana steps forward. "I believe in you." She put a hand on my shoulder and I turned to see her face. She nodded at me and I nodded to her.

Then I stepped away into an open area.

"Raven, wait!" Damian steps in front of me. "What are you doing?"

I put my hand on his cheek and for a second he rests his head on it, then he backs away enough to look me in the eyes. "I love you."

I kissed him, holding onto his head, wanting to forever remember this moment. I don't know if this will work, but something inside of me is calling for me to do this. A voice in my head that used to say 'destroy the world is now saying 'save it.'

One thing I have learned in the Teen Titans is that no matter the sins of people, they are all worth saving. The world is worth saving. Damian is worth saving.

I break our kiss and take one last look at him. I step back and levitate to the sky, not looking away from Damian. When I got to the highest I could go, I looked around. The world was in shambles now. Torn up and destroyed by the need for power.

I took one more look down at the people that I have grown to call my family. Clark saved me from... well me, Starfire who is like a sister to me and who guided me for many years. Dick taught me to fight and hold my ground. Damian made me feel like anything was possible. I needed to save them.

I took a deep breath.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Heal the earth. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Heal those that are injured. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Bring back those we have lost. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Bring those who died, back to life. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Heal those who have been taken for machines. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" In the name of love!

Then my world goes dark.

******

Damian's POV:

I looked at her. I watched as she slipped from my fingers and ascended to the sky, almost as if she was ascending to Heaven. She wasn't looking at us anymore, but to the world and the damage that was done.

I didn't know what she was doing, but I could only pray that it would work. She made it seem like goodbye, but I won't let this be the end. I didn't die and be brought back for her to die.

Father steps to my side and watches the sky along with all the others. Dick is in Kori's lap, and she is stroking his hair. The moment they saw each other, Greyson had recognized her. Father places a hand on my shoulder, bring my gaze back to the sky.

There is a flash of purple, but instead of her black raven appearing around her, she is surrounded by a white one. It was almost breathtaking to watch and I even heard a few gasps from behind me, but I didn't take my eyes away from her.

Then there was a flash of white that consumed the sky.

For a moment the world would not come into focus. All around, it looked fuzzy. And then it became clear. I looked over at Starfire and Dick, and they were hugging each other. Starfire's robotic parts were at her feet and she looked as she did two years ago. Dick stood up from the ground and they hugged. It seemed like there was no linger of the effect of the Lazerous pit.

I turned around and was shocked. Robotic pieces were on the ground as the people they belonged to embraced each other in their original forms. Diana was being helped up by Clark, and Batman stood from the ground, no longer in Dark Side's uniform. Raven did it.

Raven!

I looked to the spot she last was, but she was, falling. I rushed to catch her, holding my arms out for her. She crashed on top of me. She was on my stomach. I sat up.

"Raven!" I grabbed her face and turned it towards me, but she did not move. I tested her vitals. She was weak, but she was alive.

"Raven." Kori came over and reached for Raven's arm.

"She is alive, but her pulse is weak," I say, not looking away from the girl in my lap.

Soon a crowd of people came around us. All asking different questions, like if she was okay or if she was alive. I stood up with her in my arms and turned to the crowd of people who all had worried looks. Clark tried to reach for her, but I did let her go. I was never letting her go again.

"She is alive but in need of medical attention." I turn to Father. "Father, we have to get her somewhere where she can rest." He nodded.

"Bring her to the Batcave. I will tell Alfred you are on the way." Dick came over and placed a hand on my shoulder. He put his other on her arm and checked her vitals. "She is getting stronger."

Just as he said that Raven's eyes flew open. Her amethyst eyes found mine. "Damian." Her voice was hoarse, but she smiled at me.

"Don't speak. Save your energy." I hushed her. "We will get you somewhere safe."

"Did it work?" She asked, looking around at everyone.

"According to my records our molten core is in tacts and the earth's population was restored to the number it was before Dark Side's attach." Father read off his screen. "I am not sure how you did it, but you did. Very good work, Raven." Father nodded to her.

"Zatanna?" Constantine asked.

"Constantine." Zatanna's voice called through the crowd. She stood with a portal open as other Justice League members flooded out.

Raven smiled, and then she turned to me. "I saved you twice today."

"Yes, you did."

*******

Raven's POV:

"Raven?" A voice pulls me from my rest.

"What?" I open my eyes, confused.

"You fell asleep." Damian brushes his hand on my cheek.

"I didn't mean to," I say, trying to sit up.

"No, it's okay." He smiled and helped me up. "I was just worried for a moment. Go back to sleep. The car is here and I will take you somewhere safe." He said. I noticed that I was still in his arms.

"I can walk." I am not sure if it is true or not, but I didn't want him to know that.

"I will carry you anyways." He smiled down at me. My heartfelt warm and tingly, and honestly, I felt like I could curl up into him and sleep forever.

Damian helped me into the seat of the car, putting me in the passenger seat. Then he put the seat belt around me. I gave him a look, telling him I could have done that on my own, but he ignored it.

Damian slid into the driver's seat of the car, but his father came over before he could start the engine. "Drive her right back to the cave. I will be there when I can."

"I will, Father." Damian blew off his father's words.

His father hesitated but stepped away, and Damian started the car, and then sped off. I grabbed the handle above my head, making Damian turn to me.

"Please slow down," I begged.

Damian turned to me, and when he saw that I wasn't kidding, he slowed to almost the speed limit. "Are you alright?"

"I am really light-headed." I close my eyes, trying to focus on breathing. I turned back to look at Damian who looking worried. "But I will be fine."

He holds out his hand and I take it. I close my eyes again and take deep breaths. He squeezes my hand and says, "if you puke... you will have to clean it up." He says, making me laugh.

____

Back at the Batcave

Well even though the ride wasn't too terribly long, it turned out I will be known as the first person to throw up in the Batmobile. Damian started to speed a little more when I got sick, but he only made it worse.

"I am sorry," I tell him as he helps me out. "I really am."

"It was a joke, I swear. You are fine." He scoops me up into his arms and carries me away from the car.

"I'm sorry," I say as he lays me down on a bed.

"Please stop saying that. It is fine. I will clean it up, but you have to get better. Do what they tell you so you get better. Stop worrying. " He paused and looked at me. "Please."

I smile at him and reach for his face. When I touch his cheek, he smiles and leans into my touch. All of a sudden my bed becomes occupied by another guest. I sit up a bit to see Titus resting at my feet.

"Titus will stay with you and make sure you don't get out of bed." Damian nodded as if making the plan up as he went.

I didn't argue, and then Damian left to go clean up. I fell asleep with Titus' head, resting on my legs.

Damian

"What happened?" Batman came in, immediately sitting down at his computer.

I was cleaning up the Batmobile, from the earlier mess that I had made. I should not have sped so much. Then maybe she would not have gotten sick. "I was speeding to get back here, and Raven became ill," I explained.

My father turned around to look at me. "Damian, you should not have sped. She probably is tired and easily susceptible to motion sickness."

"Father, I thought it best we got here as soon as possible, but I admit it was a mistake." I bowed my head.

"So is she the one you were talking about?" He looked at me.

I stayed quiet, unsure of what he was talking about.

"When you said 'save them, save 'her' you meant Rachel Roth?" Father said, trying to piece together the puzzle.

"Father now is not the time or place to be discussing this." I pick up the rag I was using to clean the car and put them in a garbage bag I was using. I stood up and he turned back to his bat computer.

"Her vitals are returning, but she will need rest. I fear this has taken a great deal of energy." Father says as I go over to the panel on the wall and check the camera in her room. She is sleeping, but so is Titus. So much for a guard dog.

"We must give her time." I nod and turn to Father.

*****

Raven's POV:

I woke up in the complete dark. I wasn't sure of the time, and when I pulled out my phone it was dead. Titus stirred and started towards the door. I opened it for him and followed him out. I hadn't noticed at first, but there was a sleeping body on the ground.

I knelt to his side and put a hand on his shoulder to wake him.

"Damian," I whispered.

His eyes shot open and he scanned the room. He stood up so fast that I was almost knocked over in surprise. He turned his head back and forth and soon his eyes landed on me with worry.

"What's wrong? What happened." He grabbed my arms and looked around.

"Damian." I smiled. He was so worried that it was hilarious to watch. I grabbed his arm and made him look at me. "Damian, I am fine."

He looked me over and then sighed.

"What's going on, why are you sleeping outside the door?" I reached up and put a hand to his face, gently.

"Nothing. I was just making sure you were alright." He looked at me with those emerald eyes. "Why are you up, you should be resting?"

"I wanted to get something to eat."

"Well then let us go upstairs and get you some food. What is it that you are hungry for?" He offered me his arm to take.

I took it and looked up at him. "Cereal."

"Cereal? It's almost midnight." He checked his watch and showed it to me.

"I just want cereal." I shrugged.

He sighed with a smile on his face. "Fine." He leads me up the stairs and to the kitchen area.

I sat down at the table while Damian went over to the cupboard and grabbed all the cereal brands they had. He set them down and grabbed the bowls and spoons and a gallon of milk. He set them on the table and I grabbed what I wanted. He did the same.

I took a spoon full of cereal and scooped it into my mouth and smiled at Damian.

"Cute." He said, nodding at me, and then he took a bite of his cereal.

We ate our cereal in silence, only hearing the noises of ourselves chewing. I got seconds on my bowl, while Damian stopped after one. He watched me eat for a few minutes before his gaze started to annoy me.

"I am sorry that I eat cereal in a different way." I turned to him. "I am hungry."

He chuckles and leans back into his chair. "I don't think you eat strangely, but I think it is funny to see you stuff your face." He smiles at me.

"Excuse me for using all my energy to save the world." I joke.

"You are right, you deserve to eat as much cereal as you would like." Damian bowed his head in acceptance, but when his head turned up he had an evil look in his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing." He leaned back, not losing eye contact.

"Damian, you have that look in your eye." I point at him.

"What look?" He plays innocent.

"That mischievous look that tells me you have a plan that is not going to end well." I lean back to get a better look at him.

"I have no look." He teases.

"Yes, you do," I argue.

"No..." He was about to argue when we were interrupted.

"What are you fighting over?" Bruce Wayne walked into the room. I have never seen Batman out of his bat costume and it was shocking to see him standing before us.

"Father, we are sorry if we woke you." Damian stood and took our dishes to the sink.

"I was already awake." He sat down at the table. He turned to me and asked, "How do you feel?"

"I am better." I gave a weak smile.

"That is good." He nodded. "Now what was this about a 'look'?"

Damian sat in the chair beside me. I looked at him to see if he would explain it to his father or not. When it seemed like he wasn't going to answer I turned back to Batman and explained.

"I believe your son has a look that he gives when he has a plan that he knows you won't like," I explain.

"Oh, that look." Batman nods.

I turn to Damian with a triumphant look. "See, even your father knows of this look."

Damian turned back to me with a smile. "Fine, you win." He put his hands up in surrender.

"How is everyone, Batman?" I turned to the man sitting across from us.

"Everyone has been informed of the events over the past few years and the Justice League plans to hold an official press meeting in the next day or so to go over the details." He pulled out his phone from his pocket and set it on the table. "And please, call me Bruce."

"Well Bruce," It sounds strange to say his name. "What are you going to tell them?"

He looked at me. "We are going to tell them the events of the past few years and explain the treatment, and we plan to have you there by our side. That is if you are well enough." He gestured to me.

"Why me?" I questioned.

"You are the one who saved the world." He looked to his son and then back at me. "The world has been wanting to meet you."

"I don't know." I sank into my seat a bit.

"That reminds me. Lois and Clarke are coming tomorrow to see you. I had to send them home twice while you were asleep." Bruce stood. "Raven, please feel at home here." He said before he walked out.

I turned to Damian who was looking down at the table, scowling.

"Damian?"

"What?" He looked at me and his eyes soften.

"What is a matter?" I turn my body towards his.

"You don't have to go to the press release. I told my father that you would need more time." He shook his head.

"Damian, it is fine. If I feel up to it, I would like to go. I want to." I put a hand on his.

"Okay." He hesitated before standing. He gave me his arm and we walked the lengths of the manor together. I wasn't really sure where he was taking me until we reached a door.

"You don't need to sleep in the bat cave." He explained to me and opened the door to a bedroom "You can stay here in my room."

"Your room?"

"If you don't feel comfortable, I can sleep elsewhere." He said, allowing me to walk in.

I stepped in and Damian followed. I sat on the bed and looked at him. "You can stay here," I said, wanting for him to stay here. I almost begged him not to leave.

"Alright." He nodded. "I have some clothes you can wear."

He went over to his dresser and pulled out a hoody and basketball shorts. He handed them to me. I took them and went to the bathroom attached to the room and changed. When I got out Damian had changed into shorts and a t-shirt as well.

I slid under the covers and looked at him. He turned off the lights and made his way to the bed with only the lamp beside the bed for light.

"Good night Rachel." He said after he had turned off the lamp, leaving us in the dark.

"Good night."

******

Next Day

There was a knock on the door. I opened my eyes only to be flooded with light. I buried my head under the covers, blocking out the morning. The person next to me stirred and went to the door, opening it just a crack.

"Morning Master Damian." Alfred greeted behind the door. "Your father is worried that Miss Roth has run off this morning, but I have come to ask if you know where she might be."

"Alfred don't be coy." Damian shook his head. "I am sure by the tone in your voice, you know she is with me."

"I had a hunch." There was amusement in Alfred's tone. "I will inform your father that I have found Miss Roth. Please join us downstairs, we have some visitors." He said just about to close the door. "Morning Miss Roth."

Damian forcefully closed the door and grumbled back to bed. He slid under the covers and his arms wrapped around my waist. I smiled and took the covers off my head and wiggled around so I could see him.

"Morning."

"Morning," Damian grumbled into the sheets.

"I think we need to go downstairs," I say, trying to free myself from Damian's grasp.

Damian has always been stronger than me, so his hold on me was firm. He was gentle not to hurt me, but his arms were not budging. I turned back to look at him when I gave up trying to get out of his grip.

"Damian..." I warned.

"Five more minutes." He grumbled again.

"You are normally a morning person, why are you like this?" I say, trying to break free again.

"Because for the first time in two years the world is not in danger and I am in bed with you. I want to keep it that way." He growled into my ear, seductively.

This sent shivers down my spine. A smile spread across my face and I leaned back into Damian's grasp. He was right. For the first time, we have been able to be just us without the fear of the world ending or father trying to kill him.

I sighed and then broke away from his hold. I stood up and looked down at Damian who was looking up at me from the sheets of the bed. He did not seem too happy.

"Damian, once we go downstairs and make ourselves known, we can come back up here. I am hungry and want to eat before I fall back asleep." I said, pulling at his arm to get him out of bed. He didn't move.

After a moment I dropped his arm and stepped back. He grumbled "fine." And got to his feet. He went into the bathroom to change into some different clothes I did a simple spell to change close into a shirt and pants.

When Damian came out his hair was wet and he smelled like aftershave. I smiled and walked over to him. I hugged him around his chest, taking in a breath. His arms wrapped around me as he continued to pull socks out of his drawer.

When we were both done getting ready we headed out the door and right downstairs to the kitchen. Alfred was at the counter with a stack of pancakes beside him. When I stepped in closer I noticed Bruce, Clark, and Lois all setting at the table. Damian walked over to the table and sat down.

Lois looked up and her eyes brightened when she saw me. She stood to her feet and practically ran to me. She embraced me and then I hear a chair crash to the ground and Clark got in the hug.

"I am so glad you are okay," Lois said into my ear. She held me so tight it was hard to breathe.

"Raven, how are you?" Clark asked, not letting go of me or Lois.

"I am fine," I said, embracing them.

In the past two years, I have grown close to Clark and Lois. Clark saved me from making a huge mistake and ending my life and Lois and Clark took care of me when I grew sick from my father's wrath.

They had become like a family to me. It was nice to be around them again.

Lois realized me and Clark and she stood back to look me over. They looked at me with concerned eyes, but I smiled.

"I am fine," I assured them.

Lois enveloped her hand in mine and led me back to the table. She made me sit in the seat that Clark was sitting in before, but he didn't seem to mind. He went and sat beside Bruce.

"You did it," Lois whispered in my ear when she sat down.

"What?" Whispered back to her.

"You saved the world." She smiled at me proudly. "I knew from the moment Clark brought you home that you were destined for great things."

I smiled. She had told me that a lot throughout our time spent together. She and Clark believed in me when I had lost hope in myself.

Alfred brought over a plate for me and Damian, who was now seated across from me. Alfred smiled at me when he handed me the plate. I couldn't help but blush.

"Raven, are you feeling better? The past few days we have come they told us you were asleep?" Clark turned to me.

"I am better." I nod and take a bite of my pancake.

"Glad to hear." He nodded. "Has Bruce filled you in on the press conference?"

"He said that the Justice League will hold one and that they would like me there," I said after I swallowed my food.

"And do you feel up to it?" Lois asked me in a concerned tone.

"It should be fine for me to go," I answered her.

She smiled at me and grabbed my hand that was resting on the table and gave it a squeeze. I looked at her and she had nothing but love in her eyes. I looked to Clark and he was just the same.

"I don't think Bruce has told you yet, but the Teen Titans have decided to take a season off and most of them are going home to family," Lois said, making me turn back to look at her. "And I know that the only family you had here was your father, and now he is gone."

I wasn't sure where she was going with this. Lois nervously turned to Clark and when I turned to him he just nodded with a smile on his face.

"We were wondering if you would like to come home with us." Lois turned back to me.

I looked at her in shock. She wanted me to come live with them? Clark and Lois were asking me to come to stay with them for the while the Teen Titans were away.

"What?" I said, not sure I understood all of this.

"Come stay with us, Rachel," Clark said across the table.

"What do you say?" Lois said in a cheerful tone.

"I..." I didn't know what to say. I have never felt more welcome.

"Father, surely she would be better staying with us." Damian's gloomy tone made me turn to him. He was upset and glaring daggers at his father.

"If Rachel would like to go with the Kent's then she is the one to make that decision," Bruce said sternly. "But, she should stay here for a few more days while we track her vitals and such."

"So what do you say?" Lois asked again.

I looked at Clark and Lois and then at Damian. For the past two years, the Kent's have held me together and given me love that no family has ever. I knew what I was going to choose, but I only wished Damian wouldn't hate me.

"Yes," I said, turning back to Lois. "When the press conference is over, I would like to come home with you and Clark."

Damian stood up and stomped out of the room. I winced at his footsteps but I knew what I wanted to do. Damian and I are just starting something, but I knew that I wanted to be with Kent's

"When we go back to Metropolis, I would like to introduce you as my daughter," Clark spoke up.

"Your daughter?" I turned back and forth at Lois and Clark to see if this was real.

"You are family and if these past two years prove anything, it is that you are a Kent." Lois squeezed my hand again. "Even if you are not by blood, you are."

"Thank you, guys." I smiled at the two of them.

"Rachel, would you mind if Clark, Lois, and I have the room?" Bruce spoke up. "We have a few matters with the press conference that need to be finalized."

I nodded and stood up. I left the room quietly, still smiling. I couldn't believe this. I didn't think about what would happen when I woke up. Clark and Lois took care of me for all these years, and I just thought when all of this was over they would lead their own lives, but now they want me to join them? I was happily surprised.

I was walked back to Damian's room. I didn't know how I was going to explain this all to him and I knew by the way he reacted he would not be happy, but I wanted to explain this all to him.

I knocked on the door.

Nothing.

I knocked again and this time when nothing happened I turned the nob. Damian was sitting at his desk in his room, writing something. I walked over to him and waited for him to finish. When he set the pen down I spun his chair to look at me and sat on the bed.

"Damian, I am going." I start.

His eyes were murderous.

"I love you." I put my hand on his. "I would stay with you forever, but over the past two years... It was the Kent's that took care of me."

I let go of his hand and put it in my lap. I looked down at my hands, not wanting to face Damian.

"I wanted to die. I mean it. I wanted it to be over. If I killed myself, Father would have never been freed and you would have been safe." I toy with my hands. "And I couldn't be with you because of it."

It was hard telling Damian this. I never admitted this to anyone before.

"When Clark showed up and took me in, he and Lois gave me something that I needed. Hope." I glance up and then quickly back down. Damian was staring at me like hot lasers. "They gave me a home and made me feel loved."

They were the parents I never had.

"I am going with them because they have become my family. Like the Titans, but with a stronger bond." A tear slipped. "I love you and this doesn't mean I don't. Just because I am leaving doesn't mean I am leaving you." I looked up at him, finding my courage. "I will portal here to see you whenever, but I need to do this."

Damian was silent for a second and I let my head drop. Maybe he didn't believe me or didn't want to hear this, but it needed to be said.

I felt his hand reach my face and I looked up to him.

"I love you." He said in almost a whisper. "And though I will hate having you far away, I understand." He nodded. "But I tell you this. I will gain your love enough one day to be considered the only family you will ever need." He said in a wild tone. "And on that day, you will be my wife."

His words were wild and truthful. I knew he meant this as a promise to me and it warmed my heart. I smiled at him as he whipped a tear from my face.

"We can portal to see each other and spend the nights." He grinned at me. "But for now, if this is where you want to be, then I will not fight."

I smiled at him.

"I love you," I said, meaning it with all my heart.

"And I love you." He smiled and pulled me in for a kiss.

#damiare #Damian Wayne #raven roth #Robin x Raven #raechel roth #demonbirds #teen titans #DC comics #justiceleague #apokolips #damian x raven #raven x damian

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miracleonice87 · 4 years

Text

Someday Soon

a Mathew Barzal one shot

a/n: I was about halfway through my Nate Mack one shot when this idea came over me and bc it’s Mat Barzal, I was powerless to resist.

summary: a conversation about the future leads Mat and his longtime girlfriend to take a step in the direction they both know they’ve always been headed.

warnings: some smuttttt (happy Sunday lol), mention of having children together, swearing

_____

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mathew walk in through the main door of the house that the two of us had shared for more than a year now. The boys had ribbed him endlessly two summers ago when he gave up his apartment in Brooklyn, which had served as a bachelor pad since his sophomore season, to move into a McMansion in Garden City with me. How domesticated, the guys chirped. Mat couldn’t have cared any less. What they saw as him being whipped, he saw as his dreams coming to fruition.

I watched him blow hot air into his fist and rub his hands together, snowflakes sparkling on top of his head, swiftly melting into his thick, black hair. Over my glass of chardonnay, I smiled at him.

“Little cold?” I teased from where I sat cuddled in a tank top, comfy lounge pants and a heavy throw blanket. He hadn’t realized that I was on the sofa in the dimly lit family room before him, and hearing my voice made him spin my way and jump slightly. He quickly recovered, tipping his head back in a classic Mat Barzal laugh.

“You scared me, princess! Whatcha doin’, waitin’ for me?” Mat asked lightly with a smile as he hung his coat in the closet, kicking his shoes off before sauntering my way. Standing at the arm of the couch behind me, he tenderly gathered my hair in his hands and pressed a firm, sweet kiss to the crown of my head. “Of course I’m waiting for you,” I said softly, eyes closing in bliss as his fingers found my shoulders and rubbed them. “That’s sweet,” he mused, walking to the opposite side of the couch to look at me face to face and playfully squeeze my covered feet. My heart fluttered — he looked impossibly handsome in his navy gameday suit.

“Stay right there. I wanna go put sweats on and I’ll be right back, eh?” he suggested. I nodded with a soft smile.

Two minutes later, Mat returned, now donning a long-sleeved white Nets t-shirt and a pair of grey Islanders sweatpants, having swiped the open bottle of chardonnay, along with another wine glass, from the kitchen. He set both down on the end table beside my perch on the couch, then cupped my face in his hands and gave me a long kiss. I melted into his touch, curling my fingers around one of his hands.

“Hi,” Mat said quietly. “Hi. Your hands are still cold,” I whispered, giggling, touching my nose to his. He giggled, too, then insisted, “Well, warm me up then!” He patted the outside of my blanket-covered thigh and motioned for me to move so that he could take the seat instead. As soon as he hit the plush cushion, he pulled me down to sit between his thighs. I instantly settled back against his chest, inhaling his fresh scent and exhaling a contented sigh. Mat hummed a deep laugh against my bare shoulder, leaving a kiss on the skin, as he pulled the blanket around our waists.

“Happy?” he asked, almost rhetorically. “Mmm,” was all I offered in response, snuggling my head deeper into the crook of his neck, eliciting another breathy laugh through Mat’s nose. “Good,” he said. “How’s your night been?” Mat asked, fingers combing through the hair on the side of my head.

Without moving my head, so as not to disrupt Mat’s soothing ministrations, I reached for my wine glass from the table and, referencing my graduate studies, answered, “Finished that paper for my communication theory class, so now I only have two projects left before finals.”

“Alright, babe! That’s my girl,” Mat said proudly, kissing my cheek. I smiled at him as I sipped my chardonnay.

“And you obviously had a productive night too, Mr. Second Star of the Game,” I said excitedly, poking him lightly in his perfect stomach, making him chuckle again. He nodded happily. “Yeah, great effort tonight. Guys played really hard, which doesn’t always happen going into the holiday break. Only one more game and then it’s time to celebrate,” he told me, nuzzling his nose against my hairline. I relaxed fully into his grasp as he took a sip from his glass.

“I can’t wait to spend the holidays with your family,” I declared as I stared up at him, making his eyes dance. “Yeah?” he prodded. “Yeah,” I insisted. “Having you at my parents’ house last year was so nice, and I loved it, but I’m excited to make memories with your family this year.”

Mat tightened his grip around my hips. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he mumbled into my neck. I smiled as he placed a row of kisses there, then, with a squeal, I tried and failed to tuck my head to my shoulder and restrict his access to the sensitive spot when he began to playfully assault my skin with his mouth.

He finally pulled away, only to ask abruptly, “So do you think that’s how we’ll do this moving forward then? Like one Christmas we’ll go to BC to see my family and the next we’ll go to Chicago to see yours?”

My heart leapt. Mat obviously had future plans for the two of us, considering he’d already asked me to move in and share everything in his life with him, but he hadn’t broached specifics in this way with me aloud before.

“Moving forward?” I pushed, hoping I was right in my prediction of what he would say next.

“Yeah, you know, like when we get married, have kids? I just thought that might be a good way to do it,” Mat answered. A blush crept across my grinning cheeks.

“Kids?” I asked specifically, rolling my head closer to his as he looked sideways down at me. “Yes, kids,” Mat said firmly, splaying his fingers across my stomach — maybe subconsciously, but maybe not. “We’ve always talked about kids,” he insisted.

“We’ve talked about kids, but not where we’ll spend Christmas and New Year’s with them,” I told Mat, reaching up to smooth a hand over his cheek.

“Well, that’s part of it, eh? I’m just looking forward to sharing the rest of my holidays with you, and someday our babies, too,” Mat said, squeezing my thigh beneath the blanket, kissing the skin behind my ear.

“I can’t wait to have your babies someday,” I whispered, kissing at his jawline. I felt him go rigid, then move with a jolt. Mat swiftly took my glass from me and placed them both on the end table next to us, then shifted himself to sit up straight on the couch and adjusted my legs so that I was straddling him.

“You can’t just say things like that and not expect me to make love to you,” Mat mumbled, grabbing the backs of my thighs and bringing me closer to his waist. I intentionally ground my ass into his hips, causing a groan to fall from his perfect pink lips.

“Maybe I did expect you to,” I suggested quietly, holding one hand to his neck and allowing the other to travel down his torso. Finally it came to rest on his groin, and I palmed him gently through his sweatpants as he swore under his breath, head falling into my shoulder. His hands caressed my upper arms as he began to breathe heavily, finally finding the strength to lift his head and look at me, his eyes needy.

I ran the tip of my forefinger gently across his forehead and cheek before pressing my lips to his, tongues crashing together. He pulled my tank top away from my skin and coaxed my arms out of it, pulling away from my kiss only to remove the shirt from around my neck and toss it on the floor beneath us. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of my round breasts in a lacy black unlined bra.

“My beautiful girl,” Mat breathed, lips moving forward to ghost across the skin of my neck, no longer touching the area in a joking manner. He stretched his hands up from my lower back to unhook my bra and pull the straps from my shoulders, causing it to fall onto his stomach as I rocked against his lap in an attempt to create friction at our centers. He took my face in one hand and kissed me sloppily. Mat’s hands soon traveled down to cup my breasts, thumbs pulling across my nipples, causing them to tighten and harden even more, which made him smile as he looked up at me.

“Pleased with yourself, Barzal?” I chirped. He gave a soft chuckle. “Oh, baby, you have no idea,” he said, voice thick with satisfaction. I allowed my hands to travel from his hardening length beneath me to his abs under his shirt, the feeling of my fingers on his bare skin making him shiver. It was my turn to be smug. “Oh, I think I do,” I whispered against his lips, quickly settling into a passionate kiss, into which we both moaned.

Eventually, the remainder of our clothes had joined my top on the living room floor and our positions had reversed so that Mat was hovering over me, and I knew that tonight wasn’t the time for foreplay.

“I just need to be inside you right now, baby,” Mat explained, pressing fiery kisses to my neck and the side of my face. “Is that okay?”

I reached to grasp his chain and ran my fingers down his pecs as I nodded. “I need it, too,” I whispered. He nodded in return, knowingly. He took his length into his hand and guided the tip to my entrance, sliding it up and down the slit a couple of times, releasing a long breath and causing me to reach my own hands to tweak my nipples.

“So pretty, baby,” Mat praised, appreciating both the sight before him and the feeling beneath him. “So wet for me. You ready, sweetheart?” I nodded once more. He whispered, “Okay,” and pushed his first few inches inside, leaning his head down to kiss my forehead as I adjusted momentarily, wrapping my arms around the back of my neck.

“You alright, sweet girl?” he inquired. The familiar stretch of him had quickly turned into pleasure, as always, and now my desire only burned stronger. “Yes, Maty, you feel so good in me,” I responded, hearing a low groan escape him. He took that as his cue to sink himself further into my heat, resting his forearms on either side of my head. Once he bottomed out and heard my whine, he began deep, slow strokes as he watched me carefully below him, pushing hair back from my face.

“Mmm, feel so good for me, baby. Nice and tight,” Mat said, mere centimeters from my lips. “Just wanna show you how much I wanna be with you, now and forever.”

I moaned the moment I heard his sweet words, begging him to speed up his pace, which he did only slightly.

“Wanna remember this, princess. Wanna remember how you told me you wanna have my babies. You wanna tell me again? Hmm?” Mat pressed. I could tell that his thoughts of having children together were doing it for him tonight. It was a turn-on that I shared, so I immediately indulged.

“Mmm, Maty. I want you to fill me up. Please, give me a baby,” I whined. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his speed increasing now as his fingers found my clit and began to tease it, forming tight circles. My hands found the arm of the couch above my head and held on tight.

“You like that, Maty? Tell me what you wanna do to me, baby,” I requested. His moans turned into French phrases, which was not uncommon to hear from him when we were having sex, especially when he was close.

“Veux te le donner,” (let me give it to you) Mat grunted as he slammed into me, pushing himself so deep inside that I could feel the ache. I let out a string of high-pitched moans, my eyes finding his as my walls began to tighten around him. Though my birth control would most likely inhibit our encounter from actually producing a baby, the thought, the risk, and Mat’s obvious desire fueled me into my orgasm. He followed closely behind, ungodly moans falling from his lips. Just before he spilled into me, he exclaimed, “J'ai hâte de faire de toi la mère de mes bébés,” (I can’t wait to make you the mother of my babies) and with that, he dropped his head to my neck as we rode out our highs, waves of pleasure washing over us. It took several moments for my muscles to cease their contractions around him and for his throbbing within me to slow.

Mat kissed me languidly, hand resting on the swell of my breast, once we had finally caught our breath. “Jesus, babe,” I laughed. “I know,” he offered with a long exhale.

“I meant what I said,” Mat whispered to me, taking my face in his grasp. “Maybe not right now, but someday soon, you’re gonna have my babies. And I can’t wait for that day.” I gave him a lazy smile and nodded in agreement.

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stripper-patrick · 3 years

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Uh, hi. May I request some smut w Henry cavill x Indian reader? Some lazy Sunday morning/Friday night stuff? Thank you 🥺💕 I love your blog. I binge read most of it today. Hehe

Heaux Tales 👜 Henry Cavill

Warnings: smut, language, unprotected, rough, cheating, fingering, reverse voyeurism (?), daddy kink, quickie

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Henry Cavill x Indian/black reader

I zip down the highway switching into the right lane before taking the exit hitting a quick right turn. I whine my hips to the music of my throwbacks playlist the song Temperature by Sean Paul blasting through the speakers.

I’m coming straight from work to my sisters house and where she’s having a game night. My boyfriend unfortunately couldn’t make it seeing as he couldn’t take off the graveyard shift. I make a left entering into the driveway of the nice looking townhome my sister Armani owns.

I park in a parallel spot and see a few cars, about 4, already outside of her house. I step out pulling down my suede mini skirt with a vertical seam. I smooth out my sepia colored shirt feeling the wind start to pick up outside. I grab my black duster sliding it over my thick arms before grabbing my chestnut brown purse and walking up to the door. I try the door handle and it opens allowing me in. I take off my loafers at the door and hear the chattering of a few guests.

This house used to be our parents right before they died. We had 2 beautiful mothers who loved us very much but sadly they were involved in a head on collision that killed one of them on impact. The other died in the hospital just a day later but I was grateful for those few hours.

I look at the pictures of all of us and then I hear my name being shouted with joy. “YN” I’m greeted with open arms from my older sister. The fair-skinned 5’8 woman with a cheeky smile plastered on her face looks at me “don’t be mad” she bites her lip

“I’m already mad now” which was only half of a joke. What did she do this time? Appears from behind a wall, my recent ex Henry, with a cheeky smile as well. His perfectly short hair and fitted tee makes me wonder if he does all the thing he used to do to me, to his... snow bunnies. He started off as a fling which then turned into a 2 year relationship and when that ended we were still having sex with each other. I really only stopped fucking him just a year ago, right before I got with my current boyfriend, Cameron. The breakup was mutual but still sour. He was my best friend. Now every time I look I see a different broad on his shoulder. Like a trophy. He’s got a bitch for everyday of the week.

“Oh nice seeing you Henry” I glare at Armani and she smiles. The tall Brit walks over to me engulfing me in his warm embrace. Almost made me miss us being together. He lets me go and I step back.

“Nice seeing you as well. You look good” he glanced me up and down quickly before returning to my eyes. I can’t help but remember that those were one of his favorite features about me. My chocolate brown eyes.

“As do you” an content silence falls in the air and Armani clears her throat

“Let’s get you drunk and get this game night started” she grabs my hand and Henry follows us. We part ways, him heading to the living room and me and my sister to the kitchen where I look at her.

“I miss his goofy side” she tried to plea. I shake my head grabbing a shot of tequila and taking it straight to the head. I pour another shot downing it before shaking my head squinting at the taste. I walk to the living room meeting everyone. 2 of our cousins Briette and Joseline and Bri’s husband Carter.

“Hey guys” I hug them and look for a place to sit. Unfortunately I’m seated only one person away from Henry and I cross my legs watching his eyes move back and forth between my thighs and his hands that are resting on his thighs. Let’s begin the games.

....

I’m slightly tipsy and I’m definitely hot from the whiskey I’ve been consuming. I’m not completely drunk but I’m a little tipsy. We’re playing the game midnight taboo and it’s me, Henry and Briette vs. Armani, Carter and Jo. It’s Henry’s turn to read off the cards and we guess.

The timer starts and he begins. “Um ok Brazzers, Xvideos-“

“Porn” Bri yells out he nods grabbing another card

“YN I do this to you all the time”

“Fuck?”

“Something while we do that”

“Spanking? Cumming?” he shakes his head looking dead at me “choking” he nods grabbing another card

“Young adult kids play this at a party it’s a this or that activity”

“Get high or get drunk” I answer he shakes his head

“It’s a gathered activity” this British man and his proper English are blowing me right now. I think hard hearing Bri yell out random stuff and I finally come up with something “truth or dare”

“Time” Carter yells. Henry smiles nodding and I can’t help but begin thinking about when he would choke me while he thrashed his hips in me. I press my legs together biting my lip before raising my eyes to accidentally meet his. I knock back another shot wincing at the taste before just zoning off.

....

We’ve moved onto another game which is cards against humanity. Me and Henry are seated close next to each other of course not by my picking. He decided to sit this game out and just watch us play. I sort through my cards trying to find a good one that Joseline would like. I place one down and Henry inches closer making my breath catch in my throat.

“I see the way you keep looking at me” he whispers. Without a word being exchanged I look at him and unconsciously bite my lip. Something that would’ve made him take me right then and there.

As Joseline reads off the cards deciding on which is her favorite determining who gets the point Henry’s hand caresses my thigh. I always melted when he’d squeeze and knead my thigh like dough.

“I like Y/N’s” I smile and grab a black card reading it off. “This is the prime of my life. I’m young, hot and full of blank”

As the crowd sorts through their cards Henry’s hands creeps higher and higher softly rubbing my clothed clit. He does it so swiftly that I’m already at the point where I don’t want him to stop. He slides my panties to the side running his fingers through my slick using that to rub my coated pearl.

I jolt slightly opening my legs more where he inserts 2 fingers pumping slowly. Everyone hands me their cards and I clear my throat trying to act as normal as possible. “Crippling debt” I smile biting my lip again as Henry keeps grazing that spot “money moves, asshole full of jelly beans, tax fraud, and oh god” his fingers dig deeper inside of me as I mask my moan grinding my hips in the seat. I can see the tent forming in his pants and trust me he was packing.

“And crabs” Henry curls his fingers against my g-spot. My body jerks as Bri looks at me.

“You ok?”

“Yes I’m good. I like tax fraud” Carter smiles and grabs a black card. I grab Henry’s wrist and he leans close to my ear again.

“That’s it pet ride my fingers until you cum” oh god I wanna protest so bad but it feels so good. I rest my hand on his bulge rubbing it through his pants. I move my hand to his thigh as my legs shake and I close my eyes succumbing to my demise in front of my sister and cousins.

“Good girl” he removed his fingers rubbing my clit making my body jerk.

“Excuse me I’m going to the bathroom” I glance at him and walk shakily to the bathroom. I hear a chair scuffle and look at myself in the mirror.

“You have a boyfriend get it together” I try to pep talk myself but knowing the capabilities Henry has I can’t help myself but to fall under his spell once more.

A small knock appears at the door and I open it. Henry lightly pushes me inside and licks the door behind him. Immediately his lips are attached to mine and it was like our first time together all over again. My hands wrap around his waist and he moves his large hands down my butt lifting my skirt a little.

“Please fuck me” I beg quietly. He picks me up setting me on the counter. My legs open for him as he drops his pants finally letting his shaft spring free. Henry tears off my underwear dropping then next to his pants and guiding the tip through my wetness rubbing my sensitive clit. I grab him by the back of his neck planting an open mouth kiss on him letting his tongue explore what was previously (and still might be) his.

Henry finally stops teasing and legs go of his dick letting it align with my entrance. His hand moves to the counter behind me slowly stretching me out like the old days. My jaw drops as I sink into his touch feeling his dick fill me up. He holds my hips as my legs dangle in the crease of his shoulders while my arms support myself behind me. He looks done watching his dick submerge in my juices as he fucks me slowly.

“please daddy” he speeds up per my internal request forcing me to lean back pressing my head against the mirror as he wraps his hand around my throat. My legs start to unconsciously close and Henry forces them back open stroking me harder. My royal blue painted acrylic nails dig into his forearm as he brings me closer pressing a warm kiss on my lips. My body sparks each time he plummets inside of me pressing my g-spot like a button.

“Oh god” I mewl careful not to make too much noise. He moves down to my neck using both hands to keep my legs apart sucking at the patch of sensitive skin. My eyes roll to the back of my head hearing his grunts and moans as he digs deep in my guts. My hand wraps around his muscular shoulders and moving up to his short curly locks. I feel that hole inside of me start to open up with each thrust.

“Henry I’m close” I warn trying to brace myself. He pushes my bottom forward going deeper and my toes begin curling.

“Cum for daddy pet” he moans. My body tenses up and I cover my mouth masking a loud moan. I shutter and shake under him hearing his small sadistic laugh. His breath filled with bourbon and mint is hot against my ear.

Once my convulsions stop Henry puts my feet on the ground and turns me around sliding back in and pounding me out. He pulls my head up looking at is on the mirror. Henry places my arms behind my back. I watch Henry’s gave turn to bliss coating my walls in his seed. Something that’s happened multiple times. We’ve had our fair share of pregnancy scares.

“Look at what you do to daddy” my jaw drops as he keeps pumping making sure he’s emptied inside of me. “Fuck I miss the way you make me feel”

He slows down before coming to a stop where I feel his dick pulsing inside of me. I lift up pressing my back against his chest holding him in a powerful meaningful kiss.

“I know I’ve put you through a lot and I’m sorry” he says. I shake my head kissing him again.

I come to my senses and pull his dick out thinking about my boyfriend “shit what did I do?”

#smut #fluff #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #Friday night smut

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