#bat talks

Julia was sweet, mostly when she was sober. Cooing over you, saying you were pretty like a doll. Your father always followed it with "Should be as silent as one too."

It's not long until one day, your father slips out the door in the early hours of dusk one morning. Leaving you there, tucked into the squeaky couch by Julia. No note. No goodbye. Just......going, going, gone.

When you wake up to Julia cursing him out, confusion washes over your little form like a wave. Why hadn't he taken you? Will he come back? Were you to just live with Julia until then?

You quickly learn that he has no plans of returning. Dumping you into Julia's lap for good once he saw how well you took to her and vice versa. Leaving you with her, freeing himself of the fatherhood he was never meant for.

In her defense, Julia does step up. Well, as much as someone in her situation can. Letting you stay with her, never complaining about you. It doesn't hurt that you started to help out when you were still so young. Barely a child yourself, looking after J. It's okay though, you love your baby brother. You wouldn't take him for anything.

You might not have grown in her womb but she was the closest thing you ever had to a mom. A parent at all, really. You might not be a Cody in name, but you're hers in a way that counts.

Growing with J, watching as Julia wrecks her body with whatever she can. Until one day it can't keep up. Doesn't come down from the high.

You keep J from her body. Handing him her phone before telling him to call someone, call 911. Feeling her neck for a pulse that you can tell is long gone, fingers meeting the chill of her skin.

He says he called his grandmother, Julia's mother, a woman you've not met. Maybe for the better. A blonde lady shows up at the apartment not long after. Confusion flickering across her face for a split second at your form next to J on the steps to the apartment before introducing herself as Smurf.

"And who are you, honey?" She practically purrs, voice dripping with saccharine syrup. Even her words made you feel sickly, like you'd swallowed a mouthful of fructose. Dripping down your esophagus to sit heavily in your tummy. You don't know how to answer her question, not really.

You stumble through your answer. A mix of 'oh, I'm her daughter.' , 'She took care of me.' and 'I'm J's sister.'

Smurf nods, her grin widening in a way that makes your own cheeks hurt. Telling you that she understands, and that family is family. That she insists you come with her and J. You don't think it would be wise to say no, not like you could. You have nowhere to go. A father that dropped you into his sort of girlfriend's lap when you were a toddler.

It lands you at the Cody house. Trailing beside J, like you have been practically your entire life. Following Smurf. Nodding at the introductions to your newfound 'uncles'. Furrowing your brows slightly as she names them off but leaves off the one that Julia would occasionally mention, Andrew. Deciding against asking about it, letting that be something for another day.

Smurf shows you and J to one room, apologizing and telling you that they'll fix you one up soon. Shaking your head, you tell her that it's fine.

You've been giving things to J and sharing for your entire life. A nice bed and room is far from the worst you've had to share. Clean, room enough so you're not stepping over each other. It could be worse. It has.

It's not long after J heads back outside, where Smurf is hosting a party for the two of you, that you hear quiet steps. Startling, you quickly find a man. Not one of the ones that was outside, your new so-called uncles. Hair clipped short, freckled skin, eyes that feel like they'll follow you out the room.

"Why are you in my room?" His voice is rough and low. Like tires rolling over gravel slowly.

"Your room? Oh, Um, Smurf said it was fine for me and J-"

"Who are you?"

Your mind blanks again. The second time you've been asked that today and you still don't know the right answer.

"I'm J's sister, Julia's kid." Is the easiest answer, so it's what you give him.

"She never had a daughter."

"Oh, I mean. Uh, she was kind of like my step mom? Or like, adoption. Sorta, not...not really I guess but she took care of me." You ramble, eyes going wide as the words fall from your mouth. The deep need to explain yourself to the man bubbling up.

Smurf decides now is the time to come check up on you, a small grace. Gasping when she spots the man in front of you. "Pope!"

"You ruined my surprise." He says before walking over to smurf, quickly getting swept up in the excitement going on outside.

As you watch the two of them leave, a realization washes over you like a wave lapping at a sandy shore. That was Andrew. Well, pope, you suppose. Julia never referred to him like that but it seems the rest of the family does.

Andrew, her twin. A few stories told while she was high without going too far that she couldn't function. The thin line between being passed out on the couch and actively shooting up.

She'd never tell much. Only a few details. As well as the fact that you reminded her of him with the way you hunched slightly. Watched out for J. Made sure things were taken care of. She only hoped that you wouldn't calcify the pope was forced to. That you would be able to remain gentle and not have to do things that you hated for the sake of family.

" You have the same look in your eyes that he did before everything happened to him." She once said.

At the time, you hadn't realized what she meant. What look?

The borderline feral gleam to your eyes is what she meant. The one you saw in his as he asked who you were. The way he stared.

The two of you don't interact much after that. Not until late one night, a couple weeks later. You slide out of the large bed, J off at Nikki's house for the night. Without any other presence in the bed, it felt....too much. Too big, too soft, the way the bedding brushed against your bare legs where your fuzzy sleep shorts end.

You can see the glow of the tv lighting up the living room as you slowly shuffle down the hallway. Bare feet against the floors, an oversized shirt swallowing your torso with only the edge of your shorts peaking out of the fabric.

Andrew, sorry, pope as everybody refers to him as, is there. Sitting at one end of the couch, watching an ocean themed nature documentary. The shark segment, you notice as you shuffle over and settle on the other end of the couch. Tucking your feet under your legs as you wordlessly start to watch the documentary with him.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" He croaks out. Throat dry from being silent for hours. You can see his adams apple bob as he speaks.

"I don't really sleep much." You confess, voice quiet, yet even a whisper feels like a shout right now. "Should probably give you your bed back anyways. I didn't realize that it was yours when Smurf was giving it to us, I'm...I'm sorry."

"Keep it. And don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong." Andrew says while looking over at you, his tone soft despite how rough his voice is.

Seeing you start to shake your head, Pope cuts you off before you can even open your mouth again. "I'm serious. Shouldn't even be having to share that room with J still."

You give a weak shrug, unsure of what to say to that. You've shared with J for what feels like your entire life. The thought of your own room, your own bed, your own space? You wouldn't know what to do with it.

"I don't mind it...." You mutter after a moment.

You might not, but Andrew does. Though he doesn't say it out loud, just thinking about how a girl your age should be in her own. Not sharing with someone like J.

Pope decides to drop it, not wanting to run you off back into the bedroom. At least out in the living room, he can keep an eye on you. He's still trying to convince himself it's just concern. Pushing away his own mental reminder of the way his eyes roam over your form throughout the day.

While you help Smurf with dinner, sitting with your legs in the pool, anytime. Andrews eyes have started to slowly rake over you when he can. Staring at you the way he does. He knows you can feel his eyes on your skin. Wonders why you haven't called him out on it yet. Maybe you like it.

As the documentary flows into the next creatures segment, you feel your eyes starting to droop. Blinking back the sleep your body wanted but often wouldn't grant, yet ultimately losing. Your breaths even out as you lay on the couch, sliding down until you slump against warmth.

Warmth that radiates around you. A safe feeling that finally pulls you under.

Pope freezes, feeling your body press against his side. Peering down at you, he sees that your eyes are finally shut. Lashes fanning out across your cheeks, mouth parted slightly. He feels something gnarled twist in his lower belly. Guilt, perhaps.

'Baz fucked Julia while he was supposed to be her brother, and they had been raised around each other' Pope silently thinks to himself as he drapes a cover over your shoulders from the side of the couch. 'It's not like she's really my niece, and I only met her a few weeks ago'

Pope sits there, long after the documentary ends and the television goes dark. Feeling your soft puffs of air ghost over his freckled neck as the night slowly turns to early morning. Stewing in his own thoughts, unable to stop them from rolling over him. Not unlike waves rolling onto shore in a storm. Violent, churning, loosening old sediment that was thought to be settled long ago.

He doesn't move until you wake up in the morning. Letting you stir slowly, pulling away from him. Andrew tries to ignore the thought that pops into his head, 'Don't go…'

Blinking the sleep out of your eyes as the cover slips off your shoulders before sitting up fully. Looking around, you spot Pope where he was last night before you went under. One glance at him and you realize exactly what cushioned your sleep. A small wet spot on his slightly wrinkled button down.

"I'm so sorry Andrew." You say, voice still thick from just waking up as you blink your bleary eyes at him. "I didn't mean to."

"You should stop apologizing so much." Pope mutters, voice low.

Nodding, you push yourself up from the couch. Deciding to go hide out for the rest of the morning in your room. Practically scampering off like a scolded puppy. An unknown feeling swirling around your tummy as you crawl into the sheets.

The progression is slow, after that morning. Whatever slid into place with the two of you on the couch, stays there. Starts to grow like a moss on a forgotten tree, lonely in the forest yet strong. Solid in its stature.

It starts with little looks from Pope. Not his typical stares,something….. different. More perverse maybe? Less on guard? Andrew isn't sure why his eyes linger. Why he notices if you pick at the dinner Smurf serves that night. The way you pull your knit cover up over your bikini when Baz is out by the pool but not when he is. How your shoulders are always nearly up to your ears but for some reason….when you notice him, they sink. Relaxing. At the sight of him. Of all people.

It makes his mind churn. The way you look at him. Like you're not scared of him despite it all. You see the way the others walk on egg shells around him yet you don't. You're not rude or mean or demanding by any means but you don't treat him like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop constantly.

You look at him like he's just Andrew again.

The last person to do that, to give him that small sense of grace, was Julia. In a way, he can see what she was before in you. Your kindness. How sweet you are.

Maybe that's what pulls him towards you. How you offer him a small spot to be gentle in his life. Something he hasn't truly experienced. Not like this. So….genuine. Not for your own gain or for profit. Not in the sickly sweet way Smurf is, her words. Her hands. They are always grabbing, taking.

You make him want to be gentle. Make him wish his knuckles weren't scarred and that he didn't know what blood tasted like when it dripped into his mouth. You don't deserve someone like that. But he could be someone you do deserve.

The progression is slow. Continuous. It's in the way he doesn't raise his voice at you if you ask something.

The way he tells Baz to knock it off when he makes comments about you.

It's in the way that he starts to be there. Lingering, watching, waiting. In the way he tries. Silent yet unwavering.

They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks

But Pope Cody is no ordinary old dog. He's a mutt who knows what the word pound means. He will dig his teeth into any sliver of goodness that is tossed his way. Sinking his gnarled and twisted teeth into the steak that has been left to the flies.

Still bloody, fresh from the butcher.

Pope Cody will not let you rot in Smurf's house. No, he will not watch as your softness gets torn and cut.

Im a switch and more submissive leaning and a sometimes a bit of a brat but lately i have been enjoying exploring my dom side. Im am NOT actively looking for actual hookups or relationships but if our dynamic naturally progresses to that then maybe.

AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE TO RECEIVE PICS OF PEOPLE. I am open to sending pics but dont expect me to, i dont owe you anything.

I am a VERY freaky gal these arent all of my kinks but theres some of them

Bondage

Not really a kink but petnames, like yes call me sweetie, or darlong or doll or your little girl, it makes me feel so good inside

Praise

Degardation

Being forced into submission

Recieving pain (and maybe inflicting im not sure yet)

Shibari

Cnc

Knifeplay

Free use

Wax play

Fauxcest (on occasion)

Age gaps

Being corrupted

Md/lg (when done right)

These are my soft limits

Sending nudes of below the waist, my ass is fine just not the front because it mostly makes me disphoric

Cis men, no explanation needed

Age play, im open to aspects of it but it has its limits

These are my hard limits

Scatplay

Pissplay

Anything foot related

Names to call me when domming

Mommy

Ma'me

Miss

Mama

Named to call me when subbing

Anything praising me

Anything degrading me

Kitty

Doll

Little girl

One final thing cis men only interact if i specifally make a post about men.