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flemish-giant-jackalope · 9 months ago

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In the middle of the lab a werewolf lays on his back. His legs and arms chained to the ground.

You would think he would protest more but the amount of drugs and aphrodisiac coursing through his veins prevent it.

It also helps that you're currently riding his dick in a desperate attempt to milk him dry. He is in utter bliss, drooling with his tongue hanging out of his maw.

You're in a cowgirl position. Wearing nothing more than a tiny chastity cage and your sweat. On the cage there is yellow warming label attached. The following text printed beneath it.

"Extractor is in use. do not remove!"

Officially you are designated as a biological extractor unit, and property of the laboratory. But the lab personal has given you the nickname "fleshlight". To your own drugged and hypnotised satisfaction.

You whimper as you're desperately try to get past his knot. You want it so bad! You want to be praised for a job well done! You want to be a good fleshlight!

A person wearing a lab coat approaches you. You're so out of it you don't ever hear them approach.

"Are you having difficulty fleshlight?"

You flinch when you hear them. Which you instantly regret as your hole clenches around the werewolf’s shaft.

You stop to let your hole relax. Looking up at them you let out whine. Laboratory equipment can't use words.

They look down at you amused. "it's ok you cute little fleshlight. This is our biggest subject yet, so you just need more time to stretch that pretty little hole of yours."

With a gloved hand they take your chin, and softly raise it till they know they have your full attention. With the same tone you might politely ask a machine to do something, they say; "you're only goal in life is to be a good stretchy hole."

You zone out as the words trigger intake training. As you relax completely your eyes glaze over and a lazy smile forms on your face.

The lab assistant, still holding your chin in their hand, slides a gloved thumb in your mouth. You don't even mind or register it. You're completely focused on relaxing your ass as much as possible, while drooling happily on their thumb.

They pull their one hand back softly. Reaching their other hand into their lab coat they take out a vial. With a routine that must have happened a 100 times they collect the saliva from their thumb.

While keeping their eyes on the vial of saliva they say: "activate extractor routine 4"

You place your hands on you calf’s, using all your weight to try and conquer the werewolf’s knot. You ride it up and down slowly.

Pleased with the consistency of the sample the scientist takes a step over the werewolf’s leg.

Their standing behind you as you blissfully ride the werewolf’s cock. Desperately trying to stretch your hole. A mantra going through your head.

"a good fleshlight is a stretchy fleshlight, a good fleshlight is a stretchy fleshlight, a good fleshlight is a stretchy fleshlight, a good fleshlight is a stretchy fleshlight, a good fleshlight is a stretchy fleshlight,"

The squat behind you and inspect your progress

"Fleshlight sit"

You stop at the tip of the werewolf’s cock and let your weight glide you down. Your hole slightly stretching over the knot.

The blue medical glove glides easily over the lubed knot. Their index finger gliding upwards towards your hole, and glides in with little resistance. They hum satisfied and glide a second finger in. The smile on your face just widens, happy to inspected like a good piece of lab equipment.

They glide their fingers out and collect the liquid in another vial. "It seems you do need some more help." they stand up and put one a new pair of gloves.

While still behind you they put their hand over your mouth. Index and middle finger pushed inside your mouth. You start sucking on them.

"Your intake training is still doing wonders" they get a small vial from their coat and open it one handed. Holding it under their nostrils the smell already giving you a rush of endorphin. You get the simple command of "breath in"

You fill your lungs with the product as if it was the first breath you ever took.

"gooood fleshlight" the scientists says with a smile.

The chemicals course through your system and you hear your heartbeat in your head. As a pleasant heat flows over your body, your exhale takes any bit tension left in your body with it.

"Fleshlight ride"

You move your body up and down the length of the shaft. Feeling your hole open up more and more. Al the wile repeating the mantra in your head.

After a couple of minutes later you almost get over the thicket parts. Joy radiates your face as drool slowly leaks out of your mouth. The scientist eagerly collecting it in a vial.

While putting the closed vial in their lab coat, they look at the werewolf’s head. Still drooling and content, but with a quickening breath.

Smiling but determined the scientists quickly gets your happy vile from their coat.

"Fleshlight tip"

You stop at the top of you ascend. The tip of the werewolf’s massive cock keeping you nice and loose.

Quickly they put the vial under your nose.

"Breath in"

Still swimming in the effect of the previous huff you greedily inhale again. Your mantra only getting louder in your brain. There are no other thoughts allowed.

A knew intensified wave of heat flows over you. Spreading to your whole body as you feel it loosen.

You can feel every cm of the werewolf’s cock in detail.

"Fleshlight sit"

You fall down and you feel the scientist putting a bit of their weight on your shoulders.

You slam onto the knot and your ass opens up. Feeling your ass stretch over the knot feels like heaven. And then suddenly

"pop"

The werewolf’s breathing is getting erratic.

"Fleshlight ride" the scientists commands, getting a bit breathless themselves.

You've never felt so full in your life! As you ride you feel the knot gliding over prostate again and again. Precum is being pumped out as you continue going up and down. The knot has now swelled too much and you can't get it out anymore. You don't care! A good fleshlight is a stretchy fleshlight! A good fleshlight is a stretchy fleshlight! And you've taken the knot! You want to be the best fleshlight!

And the best fleshlight are used and filled with cum!

The werewolf’s is panting heavily, even with all the drugs coursing through his veins he tries to hump the fleshlight. A low satisfied growl begins as he cums.

The knot swells a final time as your locked into extasy! With every wave of cum, the knot pushes into your prostate making you leak more and more, as you feel your belly swell more and more. Desperately you move up and down trying to get every last drop off cum out of the beast beneath you.

The scientist has a hand in their pants too, no longer able to contain themselves. They quickly bend down and grab your chin, bending your head backwards, forcing you to focus on their face and voice.

Slightly out of breath they say "You're a very good fleshlight and deserve a reward"

Without any objection from you they open your mouth. You see them open theirs and letting their tongue hang out. A droplet of their spit falls on your face. You're delirious with joy! You're being praised for a job well done and are going to get a reward!

Al the while you still feel the werewolf filling you up.

"You deserve it, fleshlight can cum"

They say before pushing their tongue in your mouth.

Fleshlight has been good! Fleshlight has been good! Fleshlight has been so good!

You ride werewolf’s dick for all that you still can. Your moans into the French kiss as you feel a well-earned orgasm rock you to your core! You're abused prostate finally giving you release as you spray cum out of your cage onto the belly of the werewolf!

Releasing the kiss the scientists the scientists place their face next your ear. Observing the beautiful scene of your cum on the wolfs chest.

"Good extractor, you've been a very good extractor."

They coo softly. "Now rest a bit while the subject knot shrinks. And then will take this good little extractor to collection" they say with while petting your cheek. You push your face into their hand with the little energy you still have.

Still smiling they pet your head a little more. "I'll get our favourite lab equipment some water. We need to maintain you properly so you can do your job so well." with a smirk they add "Sit tight, I'll get our equipment their liquids"

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hotmentransformed · 1 year ago

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Undercover Agent

Edgar had always been the quiet type, the kind of boy who preferred the company of books to people. His fascination with the FBI began in childhood, fueled by late-night spy movies and crime novels. Growing up in a small town, his dream of becoming an agent seemed distant and improbable, but Edgar's determination never wavered. He studied hard, earned top grades at an Ivy League, and applied for every opportunity that could bring him closer to his goal.

When he received the letter offering him an internship at the FBI office in Washington D.C., Edgar couldn't believe his luck. He packed his bags and left for the U.S. capital, filled with nervous excitement.

His first day was a whirlwind of introductions, security clearances, and overwhelming awe at the sheer scale of the operation. He was assigned to the administrative department, a role that felt both thrilling and mundane.

Edgar's days were filled with menial tasks: sorting files, delivering messages, and making coffee runs. Yet, every interaction with the agents and every glimpse into their work only deepened his resolve. He longed to be part of their world, to contribute to something meaningful. His unassuming nature meant he often went unnoticed, but he observed everything with keen interest.

One afternoon, as he was delivering a stack of files to a high-security area, Edgar noticed a door slightly ajar. The sign on the door read "Restricted Access: Authorized Personnel Only." His heart skipped a beat. What secrets lay behind that door? His curiosity was piqued. He looked around to make sure no one was watching and then slipped inside.

The room was dimly lit and filled with an array of scientific equipment. Beakers bubbled, machines hummed, and shelves were lined with vials of various colors. One vial, in particular, caught Edgar's eye. It was a luminous blue, glowing faintly in the low light. The label read "Project Chimera: Undercover Agent Enhancement."

Edgar’s curiosity overwhelmed him. He picked up the vial and turned it over in his hands, wondering what kind of enhancement it promised. He imagined himself as a capable, confident agent, ready to take on the world. The thought was intoxicating. Before he could talk himself out of it, Edgar uncorked the vial and drank it down.

The cool liquid had a faint taste of mint, and he swallowed it down in one gulp. At first, nothing happened, and he began to feel foolish for having taken such a reckless risk. Surely he would be fired after they found the empty vial. But then, a warmth spread through his chest, radiating outward like ripples in a pond.

Suddenly, he doubled over, clutching his stomach as a wave of energy surged through his body. It felt as though every cell in his body was being recharged, filling him with a power he had never known. His muscles began to tingle, then burn, as they expanded and hardened. He watched in awe as his biceps bulged, the fabric of his polo straining to contain his growing arms. His chest broadened as dark hair swirled around, pushing its way from the bursting buttons. Each breath he took caused his pectoral muscles to swell and push against the confines of his shirt, threatening to rip it completely from his torso.

His legs thickened with powerful new muscles. He felt his posture straighten, his spine elongating as his back muscles pulled him upright. The once baggy clothes he wore were now tight and restrictive, seams straining under the pressure of his rapidly expanding physique. He could feel his strength increasing with every passing second, the awkwardness of his former self melting away to reveal a body that looked like it belonged to a professional athlete or a comic book superhero.

His vision sharpened, and he instinctively reached up to remove his glasses. He no longer needed them; his eyesight was now perfect, every detail in the room coming into crystal-clear focus. Edgar stumbled to a mirror on the wall, hardly daring to believe what he might see. The reflection staring back at him was almost unrecognizable. The once scrawny intern had been replaced by a tall, muscular young man with chiseled features. His face had changed too—his jawline was stronger, more defined, and his eyes, now a piercing blue, seemed to sparkle with confidence.

Edgar flexed his new muscles, feeling a rush of exhilaration. His biceps, triceps, and deltoids rippled under his skin, each movement revealing the power contained within his new body. He ran his hands over his chest and abs, marveling at the firm, sculpted muscles that had replaced his once soft and unimpressive frame. He felt invincible, every ounce of self-doubt and insecurity evaporating in the face of his newfound strength and confidence.

As he continued to examine himself, the door to the laboratory swung open, and a female service agent walked in. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening in shock. There was a strange man who had broken into the FBI office. Edgar turned to face her, his new features displaying a calm assurance he had never possessed before.

"It's me, Edgar," he said, his voice deeper and more resonant than he remembered. "I... I drank the serum."

The agent's shock slowly turned to suspicion as she studied him. "You know this is a serious breach of protocol, right?" she said, her tone stern but not unkind.

"Yes, ma'am. But maybe it happened for a reason. Maybe I can help," Edgar replied, feeling a newfound boldness and blinding arrogance.

She looked him up and down, then sighed. "We do have a situation. There's a drug ring operating out of the Alpha Epsilon Pi frat at Georgetown, and we need someone to go undercover. They'd never suspect a new guy like you."

Edgar felt a thrill of excitement. He had the chance to prove himself, to show that he was more than just an intern. Now he was an undercover agent.

#male tf #transformation #tf #transform #male transformation #muscle transformation #muscle tf

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shiorihyugawrites · 18 days ago

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Red Regrets

Twelve years ago, Levi Ackerman made the hardest decision of his life—he left behind the only woman he ever loved, believing it was for her own good. But fate is cruel, and when a fiery redheaded boy with a familiar scowl crosses his path, Levi is forced to confront the past he abandoned. The truth he never knew. And the woman whose heart he shattered. (Levi x OC)

Chapter Eighteen

The late afternoon sun bathed Wall Sina in a warm, golden glow, filtering through the tall windows of Dr. Penelope Iverson’s clinic. The space was a testament to her brilliance and dedication: pristine white walls adorned with anatomical charts, shelves lined with medical texts, and a counter cluttered with neatly labeled vials and instruments. The air carried the faint scent of antiseptic and lavender, a calming contrast to the bustle of patients moving through the waiting area.

Penelope stood behind the examination counter, her rose-red curls pinned in a loose bun, a few strands framing her olive-skinned face. Her fitted burgundy dress hugged her curvy frame, the white doctor’s coat over it slightly creased from a long day. Her golden eyes, sharp with focus, scanned a patient chart as she dictated notes to a young medical student shadowing her.

“Ensure the dosage is adjusted for his weight,” Penelope instructed, her voice crisp but patient. “Too much could cause dizziness, too little won’t touch the infection. Recalculate and show me before you leave.”

The student, a nervous girl with a notepad, nodded vigorously. “Yes, Dr. Iverson. I’ll have it ready in ten minutes.”

Penelope offered a small smile, her deep dimples softening the intensity of her presence. “Good. You’re learning fast, Mara. Keep it up.”

As Mara scurried off, the clinic door swung open with a jingle, admitting Commander Hange in a whirlwind of energy. Her scout uniform was slightly disheveled, her glasses perched precariously on her nose, and her brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail. She carried a stack of papers under one arm, though they seemed more an afterthought than a purpose. The patients in the waiting area glanced up, startled by the sudden arrival of the Survey Corps’ commander, but Hange’s focus was singular: Penelope.

“Penelope!” Hange exclaimed, striding across the room with a grin that promised mischief. “My favorite doctor in all the Walls! How’s the miracle worker doing today?”

Penelope looked up, her golden eyes narrowing slightly. “Hange,” she said, her tone a mix of amusement and suspicion. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have, oh, I don’t know, a regiment to run?” She set the chart down, crossing her arms, her posture radiating the no-nonsense authority that made her clinic a well-oiled machine.

Hange waved a hand dismissively, plopping the papers onto the counter with a thud. “Pfft, the scouts can survive without me for an hour. I’m here on a mission of utmost importance.” She leaned forward, her grin widening. “I want you to be our head doctor. Officially. Full-time. The Survey Corps needs you, Penelope.”

The clinic seemed to pause, the hum of activity dimming as patients and staff overheard the bold declaration. Penelope’s expression didn’t waver, though a flicker of exasperation passed through her eyes. “Hange, we’ve been over this,” she said, her voice firm but calm. “I have a clinic to run, patients who depend on me, and medical students I’m training. I can’t just drop everything to join the scouts.”

Hange’s enthusiasm didn’t falter. She clasped her hands together, her eyes gleaming with determination. “But you were incredible the other day! Fifty recruits, cleared in a single day, with precision I’ve never seen from our current medic. No offense to him, but he’s… well, let’s just say he’s not you. I’m ready to fire the guy if it means getting you on board.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. “You’re going to fire a man for being less efficient than me? That’s a bit harsh, even for you.”

“Okay, maybe not fire,” Hange amended, backtracking with a sheepish grin. “But reassign! To… paperwork or something. Come on, Penelope, you’re a natural. The Scouts are rebuilding, and we need the best. You’re the best.”

Penelope sighed, rubbing her temple as if warding off a headache. “Hange, I appreciate the flattery, but my answer hasn’t changed. This clinic is my responsibility. I’ve built it from nothing, and I’m not abandoning it. My students need me, my patients need me, and frankly, I don’t have the time to play field medic for the scouts.”

Hange’s grin faded, replaced by a dramatic pout. She dropped to her knees in the middle of the clinic, clasping her hands in a theatrical plea. “Penelope, please! I’m begging you! The scouts are desperate, and you’re our only hope. Think of the lives you could save, the soldiers you could patch up, the—”

“Hange, get up!” Penelope hissed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as patients craned their necks to stare. “You’re making a scene, and you’re the Commander of the Survey Corps! Have some decorum, for God’s sake!”

Hange remained on her knees, undeterred, her voice rising in a mock wail. “I can’t get up until you say yes! The fate of humanity rests on your shoulders, Penelope Iverson!”

Penelope’s exasperation gave way to a reluctant laugh, her dimples deepening despite herself. “Hange, don’t you have important things to do? Like actually leading the scouts? Planning missions? Not kneeling in my clinic like a child throwing a tantrum?”

Hange’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Leading is overrated. Begging is way more fun.” She shuffled closer on her knees, ignoring the stares of a nearby patient clutching a bandage. “Come on, Penelope. Think about it. The Scouts need you. This is your chance to help humanity directly. To be a hero!”

Penelope’s expression hardened, her golden eyes glinting with resolve. “Nice try, Hange, but I’m not falling for the hero speech. I help humanity every day, right here, treating people who’d otherwise be left to suffer. My answer is no. Final.”

Hange’s shoulders slumped, but she wasn’t out of tricks yet. She rose to her feet, dusting off her knees, and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Okay, okay, forget the hero stuff. Let’s talk about something more… personal.” She waggled her eyebrows. “If you’re the head medic, you’ll be around Levi all the time. Working side by side, saving lives, maybe sneaking off for a little… you know.” She winked, her grin downright devilish.

Penelope’s laugh was sharp and immediate. “Hange, really? That’s your play?” She shook her head, her curls bouncing slightly. “I see Levi almost every day. He comes over for dinner with Preston as often as he can. I don’t need to join the scouts to spend time with him. Try again.”

Hange groaned, throwing her head back in exaggerated despair. “You’re impossible! I’m out of cards, Penelope. I’ve got nothing left but whining and begging.” She clutched Penelope’s arm, her voice dropping to a plaintive whine. “Pleeeease, Penelope. Pretty please with sugar on top? I’ll do anything! I’ll clean your clinic! I’ll babysit Preston! I’ll—”

“Hange, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Penelope said, gently but firmly prying Hange’s hands off her arm. “And you’re scaring my patients. Look, I’ll help the Scouts if you’re in a dire emergency, like the other day. But I’m not leaving my clinic. That’s the end of it.”

Hange’s face fell, her energy deflating like a punctured balloon. She sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Fine,” she muttered. “I get it. I’m bummed, but I get it.”

Before Penelope could respond, the clinic door jingled again, admitting Levi and Preston. Levi’s sharp gray eyes scanned the room, his scout uniform impeccable, his posture radiating quiet authority. Preston, his rose-red hair tousled from a day at school, slouched beside him, his gray eyes mirroring his father’s but softened by youth. He carried a satchel slung over one shoulder, his expression a mix of embarrassment and defiance.

“Mom!” Preston called, spotting Penelope. “Dad insisted on picking me up from school. Said it was ‘on his way,’ but it was so embarrassing. Everyone was staring!”

Levi’s lips twitched, a faint smirk breaking his stoic facade. “You’ll live, brat,” he said, his voice low. “Better than you wandering the streets and getting into trouble.”

Penelope’s smile widened, her dimples deepening as she took in the sight of her son and Levi. But her amusement faded as she noticed Hange, still clinging to her arm, her face a picture of exaggerated misery. Levi’s gaze zeroed in on the scene, his eyes narrowing.

“What the hell’s going on here?” he demanded, striding forward. He grabbed Hange by the collar, pulling her upright with a single, fluid motion. “Hange, pull it together. You’re the damn Commander, not some street beggar.”

Hange yelped, flailing slightly as Levi released her. “Levi! I was just… having a friendly chat with Penelope!”

“A chat?” Levi’s voice was flat, his glare cutting. “Looks like you’re harassing her. Again.”

Preston, catching the gist, grinned mischievously. “What’s Commander Hange begging for now? Mom, is it another scout thing?”

Penelope sighed, crossing her arms. “Hange wants me to be the scouts’ head doctor. Full-time. I’ve told her no, but she’s not taking it well.”

Levi’s expression darkened, his gaze snapping to Hange. “I told you to drop that idea,” he said, his voice low and edged with steel. “Penelope’s got enough on her plate—her clinic, her students, Preston. She doesn’t need you piling on more.”

Hange raised her hands defensively. “I know, I know! But she was so good the other day, Levi! Better than our current medic by miles. I thought maybe—”

“No,” Levi cut her off, his tone final. “She said no. Respect it.”

Preston, undeterred by the tension, piped up, his gray eyes gleaming with excitement. “I think it’d be cool if you were the scouts’ doctor, Mom! You’d be there to patch me up when I join after cadet training!”

Penelope’s heart sank, her golden eyes softening with a mix of love and dread. Levi’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to his son, but he didn’t snap. They’d had this conversation too many times, and they’d reluctantly agreed to let Preston choose his path, even if it tore at them both.

“Preston,” Penelope said, her voice gentle but firm, “we’ve talked about this. You’re not enlisting tomorrow. And even if you do, I’m not leaving my clinic to chase after you. My work is here.”

Preston pouted, crossing his arms. “But it’d be awesome! You’d be like, the coolest doctor in the scouts, and I’d be the coolest recruit. We’d be unstoppable!”

Levi snorted. “You’re not unstoppable until you learn to eat your vegetables without whining, brat.”

Preston shot his father a glare, but the banter eased the tension in the room. Penelope turned to Hange, her expression resolute. “Hange, I mean it. I’m not leaving my clinic. If the Scouts are in a real emergency and need me, I’ll help, like I did with the recruits. But that’s it. No full-time commitment. Understood?”

Hange sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Yeah, I understand,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I just… I had to try. You’re too good, Penelope.” She managed a small smile, her usual spark returning. “Thanks for not kicking me out.”

Penelope’s lips twitched, her exasperation giving way to warmth. “You’re lucky I like you, Hange. Now go be a Commander and let me get back to work.”

Hange saluted playfully, grabbing her papers from the counter. “Yes, ma’am! I’ll see you around—hopefully not begging next time.” She turned to Levi and Preston, winking. “You two keep her in line, alright?”

Levi rolled his eyes, but Preston grinned. “No promises, Commander!”

As Hange made her exit, the clinic resumed its rhythm, patients shuffling in and out, Mara returning with her recalculated dosage. Penelope leaned against the counter, exhaling a long breath. The weight of Hange’s request lingered, a reminder of the Scouts’ desperate state and the pull of Levi’s world. But her resolve held firm—this clinic, these people, were her purpose.

Levi stepped closer, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “You handled her better than I would’ve,” he said, a hint of admiration in his tone. “She’s relentless.”

Penelope’s golden eyes met his, a playful glint returning. “I’ve had practice dealing with stubborn Ackermans,” she teased, nudging his shoulder. “You and Preston aren’t exactly easy to manage.”

Levi’s lips quirked, a rare smile breaking through. “Tch. You love it.”

She laughed, the sound rich and melodic, her dimples deepening. “Maybe I do.”

Preston, who’d been pretending to ignore them, groaned dramatically. “Ugh, you guys are gross again. Can we go home now? I’m starving.”

Penelope ruffled his red hair, earning an indignant squawk. “Patience, kiddo. I’ve got a few more charts to review, then we’ll head out. Levi, you staying for dinner?”

Levi nodded, his gaze softening. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

As Penelope returned to her work, Levi and Preston settled into the waiting area, the former flipping through a medical journal with feigned interest, the latter sketching in his notebook—likely a crude drawing of himself as a Scout. The clinic hummed around them, a microcosm of Penelope’s world, one she’d built with her own hands. Hange’s plea had been a valiant effort, but Penelope’s roots were here, with her patients, her students, and the family she and Levi were slowly rebuilding.

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the clinic floor. Penelope’s voice carried softly as she instructed Mara, her confidence unshaken by the day’s chaos. Levi watched her, his pride a quiet, steady warmth. She was his anchor, his partner, and no amount of begging from Hange could pull her from where she belonged. For now, they had this—dinner, banter, and the fragile hope of a future forged together.

…

The evening settled over Wall Sina with a quiet reverence, the sky a tapestry of deep indigo streaked with fading gold. Inside Penelope’s home, the warmth of the kitchen lingered from dinner, the scent of roasted herbs and fresh bread still drifting through the air. The table had been cleared, dishes stacked neatly in the sink—a task Levi had insisted on handling, his meticulous nature unable to tolerate a single crumb out of place. Now, the house was still, save for the soft creak of floorboards as Levi ascended the stairs to Preston’s bedroom.

Preston’s room was a study in organized chaos, a reflection of a boy on the cusp of adolescence. The bed was made, though the quilt was slightly askew, and a wooden desk held a jumble of sketchbooks, pencils, and a dog-eared military manual Levi had grudgingly lent him. A small shelf displayed a collection of polished stones and a carved wooden horse, remnants of a childhood not yet fully shed. The window was cracked open, letting in a cool breeze that rustled the curtains, and a single lantern cast a warm glow across the room, softening the stark lines of the wooden walls.

Preston sat cross-legged on his bed, his rose-red hair catching the lantern light, his gray eyes fixed on a sketch of a scout in mid-flight, ODM gear wires taut. He was adding details to the blades, his pencil moving with the careful precision of someone who’d studied his father’s movements too closely. When Levi knocked lightly on the open door, Preston’s head snapped up, his expression shifting from concentration to unease.

“Hey, Dad,” Preston said, setting the sketchbook aside. His voice carried a wary edge, and he straightened, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “What’s up?”

Levi stepped inside, his uniform replaced by a simple black shirt and trousers, though his posture remained as disciplined as ever. He pulled the desk chair over, positioning it to face Preston, and sat, his movements deliberate. His gray eyes studied his son, taking in the nervous twitch of his fingers, the way his shoulders tensed as if bracing for a reprimand. Levi knew that look—knew it from his own childhood in the Underground, when every adult’s approach signaled trouble.

“You’re not in trouble,” Levi said, his voice low but firm, cutting through Preston’s spiraling thoughts. “Relax, brat. I just want to talk.”

Preston’s shoulders eased slightly, but his eyes remained cautious. “Talk about what?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion. His mind raced, mentally cataloging his recent actions. His room was clean—Levi had checked it that morning. He hadn’t gotten into any fights at school, not since the incident when Levi’s stern discipline had left a lasting impression. He’d even eaten the damn carrots at dinner. So what was this about?

Levi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely. The lantern light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the faint scars that marked his years as a soldier. “Your birthday’s coming up,” he said, his voice softer now, carrying a weight that made Preston’s fidgeting still. “You’ll be twelve. First one I’ll be here for.”

Preston’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his wariness. He hadn’t thought about it like that—not consciously. Levi had only been in his life for a few months, a fact that sometimes felt like a lifetime and other times like a fleeting moment. The significance of this birthday, the first they’d share, hit him like a quiet wave. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter. “That’s… kinda cool.”

Levi’s lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. “Kinda cool,” he echoed, his tone dry but warm. “I missed your first birthday, Preston. Every damn one. I wasn’t there when you were born, when you took your first steps, when you started talking. I don’t take that lightly. I’m not missing any more.”

Preston swallowed, his throat tight. He’d heard Levi talk like this before, in snippets, but never so directly. The weight of his father’s absence, and now his presence, was something he felt but didn’t know how to articulate. “You’re here now,” he said, the words clumsy but earnest. “That’s what matters, right?”

Levi nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah. But it’s not just about being here for cake and presents. It’s about making sure you’re ready for what’s coming. You’re turning twelve, and you’ve made it clear what you want—to enlist as a cadet, to be a Scout.”

Preston’s eyes lit up, his earlier unease forgotten. “Hell yeah, I do!” he said, leaning forward. “I’m gonna be the best cadet they’ve ever seen. I’ve been training, Dad. I can do fifty push-ups now, and I’m working on my balance for ODM gear. I’ll—”

“Slow down,” Levi interrupted, his voice calm but commanding. He held up a hand, silencing Preston’s enthusiasm. “We’ve talked about this before, you, me, and your mom. As a family. But I want to talk to you now, just us. Man to man.”

Preston’s excitement tempered, sensing the gravity in Levi’s tone. He nodded, his gray eyes locked on his father’s, waiting. Levi took a breath, choosing his words with the precision of a blade.

“I know you want to be a scout more than anything,” Levi said. “And I know we can’t stop you. Your mom and I tried. We sat you down, argued, pleaded, but you’re stubborn as hell—an Ackerman trait, whether you like it or not. But I need you to hear me, Preston. Really hear me. The life of a scout isn’t just training and glory. It’s short. Brutal. You sign up, you’re saying your life is expendable for humanity’s sake. You’re saying you’re ready to die so others might live.”

Preston’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. He’d heard stories—whispers of Shiganshina, of the Scouts’ decimation, of the nine survivors, including his father. But those were tales, distant and almost mythic. The reality Levi described felt heavier, colder. “I know it’s dangerous,” he said, his voice quieter but defiant. “But I’m not scared. I want to protect people, like you do.”

Levi’s expression softened, a rare vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “I know you’re not scared. That’s what worries me. You’re brave, Preston. Too brave, maybe. But bravery doesn’t keep you alive. Skill does. Strategy does. And even then, it’s not always enough.” He paused, his gaze distant, haunted by memories of comrades lost—Petra, Eld, Gunther, countless others. “I’ve seen too many good soldiers die. I don’t want that for you.”

Preston shifted, his hands clenching into fists. “But you’re still here,” he said, his voice almost a challenge. “You’re the best, Dad. Everyone says it—Humanity’s Strongest. If I train hard, if I’m like you, I can make it.”

Levi’s lips pressed into a thin line, his pride warring with his fear. “You’re not just like me,” he said. “You’re an Ackerman, Preston. You’ve got abilities others don’t—strength, speed, instincts that’ll set you apart. You’ll likely be the top cadet in your class, maybe the top soldier one day. That’s not arrogance; it’s fact. Your blood gives you an edge, but it’s also a burden.”

Preston’s eyes widened, a mix of awe and curiosity. He’d felt it—the surge of power unlocked in him when he had saved his mother, the way his reflexes seemed sharper than his peers’. Levi had explained the Ackerman lineage before, but hearing it now, framed against his future, made it real. “So… I’ll be better than the others?” he asked, a hint of excitement creeping back.

Levi nodded, but his expression was stern. “Better, stronger, faster. But that’s not a free pass to be reckless. I taught you this before, and I’ll say it again: your strength isn’t for showing off. It’s not for bullying, not for proving you’re tougher.” His voice hardened, and Preston flinched, the memory of Levi’s discipline—a sharp lesson after he’d stomped out his classmates—burning in his mind. “You use it wisely, or it’ll destroy you. Understand?”

Preston nodded quickly, his face serious. “I remember,” he said, his voice small. “I won’t forget. I’m not a bully, Dad. I swear.”

Levi’s gaze softened, satisfied. “Good. Your strength is for protecting those who can’t protect themselves. That’s what it means to be a scout. You look out for the weak, the scared, the ones who’d break without someone standing in front of them. You do that, and you’ll be better than I ever was.”

Preston’s chest swelled, his father’s words igniting a fire in him. “I will,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ll protect them. I’ll make you and Mom proud.”

Levi leaned back, his hands resting on his thighs. The weight of the conversation pressed on him, but he pushed forward, needing to say it all. “Your mom and I… we’ve fought you on this because we love you. More than anything. The world’s changing, Preston—faster than we can keep up. Marley, the nations beyond the sea, the truth about the Walls—it’s all a mess, and it’s only gonna get uglier. We don’t want to lose you to it. If something happened to you…” He trailed off, his voice catching, a rare crack in his stoic facade.

Preston’s throat tightened, his bravado faltering. He’d seen his parents’ worry—his mother’s furrowed brow, his father’s clenched jaw—but hearing it laid bare was different. “I don’t want to hurt you or Mom,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I have to do this. It’s who I am.”

Levi exhaled, the sound heavy with resignation. He leaned forward again, his eyes locking onto Preston’s. “I know. And I’m not here to stop you anymore. I had a talk with Erwin, back before… before he died. He told me something I didn’t want to hear at the time. Said kids need the freedom to chase their own paths. Said there’s nothing your mom or I can do to keep you from being a scout if that’s what you’re set on. He was right.”

Preston’s eyes widened, the mention of Erwin—a name revered in their household—carrying weight. “Commander Erwin said that?”

“Yeah,” Levi said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “He was a pain in the ass sometimes, but he knew people. Knew what drives them. You’re driven, Preston. Like me, like your mom. I can’t fight that. So I’m gonna do what I can to support you.”

Preston’s mouth opened, then closed, his usual quick retorts failing him. “You… you mean that?” he asked, his voice tinged with hope. “You’re okay with me enlisting?”

Levi’s smile faded, his expression serious. “I’m not okay with it. I’ll never be okay with my kid putting his life on the line. But I’m not gonna stand in your way. You’ll be a damn good scout one day—I’ve got no doubt about that. You’ve got the heart, the skill, the stubbornness. But you’re not there yet. When you enlist, you train hard. You listen to your instructors. And you don’t get cocky. Got it?”

Preston nodded vigorously, his gray eyes shining with determination. “Got it, Dad. I’ll train harder than anyone. I’ll make you proud, I swear.”

Levi reached out, resting a hand on Preston’s shoulder, the gesture firm but gentle. “You already make me proud,” he said, his voice low, the words carrying a weight that made Preston’s chest ache. “Just… don’t make me regret this. Stay sharp. Stay alive.”

Preston’s lips trembled, but he managed a nod. “I will,” he said, his voice thick. “I promise.”

Levi held his gaze for a moment longer, then leaned back, his hand dropping to his side. “Good. Now, about your birthday. I’m not big on parties, but your mom’s probably got something planned. You got any ideas? Something you want?”

Preston’s seriousness gave way to a grin, his earlier nerves forgotten. “Uh, maybe a new sketchbook? Mine’s almost full. And… maybe you could teach me some ODM moves? Like, the real stuff, not just the basics.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not touching ODM gear till you’re a cadet, brat. But the sketchbook I can do. And maybe I’ll show you a few knife techniques. Deal?”

“Deal!” Preston said, his grin widening. He hesitated, then added, “Thanks, Dad. For… you know, all this. Talking and stuff.”

Levi stood, ruffling Preston’s red hair, earning a half-hearted protest. “Don’t get sappy on me,” he said, but his tone was warm. “Get some sleep. You’ve got school tomorrow, and I’m not dealing with your mom if you’re late again.”

Preston rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, settling back against his pillows as Levi moved to the door. “Night, Dad,” he called, his voice softer now.

“Night, Preston,” Levi replied, pausing in the doorway. He glanced back, taking in the sight of his son—red hair, gray eyes, a stubborn spark that was all too familiar. The future was uncertain, a storm gathering on the horizon, but for now, Preston was here, safe, dreaming of a life Levi both dreaded and admired. Levi’s job, as always, was to protect him, no matter the cost.

He closed the door softly, the lantern’s glow fading behind him, and descended the stairs, the weight of the conversation settling into his bones. Penelope was waiting in the living room, a cup of tea in her hands, her golden eyes lifting to meet his as he entered. She didn’t need to ask how it went—his expression, the quiet resolve in his gaze, told her everything.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Levi said, his voice low, more to himself than to her.

Penelope’s smile was soft, her dimples deepening. “With you as his father? He doesn’t stand a chance of being anything less.”

Levi snorted, but the warmth in his chest was undeniable. He sat beside her, their shoulders brushing, and for a moment, the world’s chaos faded, leaving only the quiet strength of their family, holding fast against the storm..

She cradled her teacup, the honeyed steam curling upward. “I was half-expecting him to come downstairs complaining you’d grounded him for life.”

Levi snorted, picking up his own cup, his movements precise as always. “He thought he was in trouble at first. Kid’s got a guilty conscience, but he’s not half as bad as he thinks.” His gray eyes flicked to her, a hint of pride in them. “He listened. Really listened. That’s more than I expected.”

Penelope’s smile widened, her heart swelling at the thought of Levi and Preston navigating their bond. “You’re good with him, Levi. Better than you give yourself credit for. He’s lucky to have you.”

Levi’s lips twitched, a faint smirk breaking through. “Tch. Don’t get sappy on me, Pen.” But his tone was soft, and the way his gaze lingered on her betrayed the warmth her words sparked.

She laughed, nudging his shoulder with hers. “I’m allowed to be sappy sometimes. Speaking of Preston, I’ve been thinking about his birthday. I usually keep it small—just a few friends from school, some of the clinic staff, good food, and cake. But this year’s different with you here.” She set her cup down, turning to face him fully. “I want you there, obviously. And you can invite Hange, even your Special Ops Squad, if they’re interested. I know they’re busy, but it’d mean a lot to Preston to have them.”

Levi nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I’ll ask them. Hange’ll probably show up just for the cake. Sasha too, if there’s food involved. The others… depends on their duties, but I’ll pass it along.” He paused, his gaze sharpening as he caught the slight furrow in her brow. “What’s wrong?”

Penelope sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “It’s just… Preston doesn’t have many friends. Last year, I invited two boys from his school, and they came, but it was awkward. This year, he hasn’t mentioned anyone. He’s been such a loner, Levi. It breaks my heart. He’s a good boy—kind, smart, a bit awkward like you—” She shot him a teasing glance, but her smile faded quickly. “But ever since that incident with the bullies, when he… well, you know, stomped them out, it’s like the other kids keep their distance. He’s ostracized, and I hate it.”

Levi’s jaw tightened, the memory of that incident flashing through his mind. He had disciplined him harshly, a lesson Preston had taken to heart. But the fallout had been brutal, the whispers at school painting Preston as a threat rather than a kid protecting his dignity.

He set his cup down, his hand resting lightly on Penelope’s knee, a rare gesture of comfort. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Preston’s gonna be okay. He’s tough, like you. And once he joins the cadets, he’ll find his place. Those kids’ll be like him—driven, ready to fight for something bigger. He’ll make friends, real ones, the kind that stick.”

Penelope tilted her head, her golden eyes searching his. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Levi said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “School’s for the rich brats in Wall Sina, the ones who’ll never see a Titan or swing a blade. Preston’s different. He’s throwing away a cushy life to join the military—probably the only kid from Wall Sina doing it. That’s not weakness; it’s strength. The cadets’ll see that. They’ll respect it.” He leaned back, his hand lingering on her knee. “I didn’t go through formal cadet training myself, but I’ve seen it with my squads. My old team—Petra, Oluo, Eld, Gunther—they were tight, bonded from their cadet days. Same with Eren and the others now. They fight for each other, bleed for each other. Preston’ll find that too.”

Penelope’s expression softened, the worry in her eyes easing. She placed her hand over his, her touch warm and grounding. “You’re right,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I keep forgetting how much he’s like you—stubborn, loyal, ready to take on the world. He’ll find his people. I just… I want him to be happy, you know?”

“He will be,” Levi said, his gaze steady. “He’s got us. That’s more than we had at his age.”

She squeezed his hand, her dimples deepening as her smile returned. “True. And he’s got your squad to look up to. I bet Sasha might try to steal his birthday cake.”

Levi snorted, the tension in his shoulders loosening. “She’ll try. I’ll have to guard the damn thing myself.”

Their laughter mingled, a soft, shared moment that wrapped the room in warmth. But as the laughter faded, a different undercurrent stirred, one that had been simmering since that charged moment in Levi’s office days ago. The memory hung between them, unspoken but vivid—Penelope perched on his desk, her legs around his waist, their kisses hungry and unyielding until Hange’s untimely interruption. Levi’s thoughts drifted to it often, too often, the fantasy of what could have happened playing out in his mind with a clarity that tested his ironclad self-control.

Penelope, for her part, felt the shift too. She loved teasing Levi, coaxing reactions from a man whose stoic exterior rarely cracked. Getting under his skin was a game she played with precision, knowing exactly how to catch him off guard. Tonight, with the house quiet and their son upstairs, the air felt ripe for mischief.

She leaned back against the couch, her sweater slipping slightly to reveal the curve of her collarbone. Her golden eyes glinted with a playful edge as she sipped her tea, her movements deliberately slow. “You know,” she said, her voice casual but laced with a teasing lilt, “with all the chaos at the clinic and Preston’s birthday planning, I’ve barely had time for myself lately. Not even, you know… a moment to relax.” She paused, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Haven’t had a chance to… take care of certain needs.”

Levi froze, his teacup halfway to his lips. The words hit him like a sucker punch, and he choked, tea spraying in a rare, undignified sputter. He coughed, setting the cup down with a clatter, his face flushing a deep red as he glared at her. “What the hell, Pen?” he rasped, his voice a mix of shock and exasperation.

Penelope burst into laughter, the sound rich and unrestrained, her dimples deepening as she clutched her sides. “Oh my God, your face!” she gasped, tears of mirth glinting in her eyes. “You look like you’re about to clutch your pearls and faint!”

Levi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his blush deepening as he tried to regain his composure. “You’re insane,” he muttered, but the heat in his eyes betrayed the effect her words had. “Saying shit like that out of nowhere—what’s wrong with you?”

She leaned forward, her laughter subsiding but her grin unrepentant. “What? I’m just being honest. You’re the one who can’t handle a little candor, Captain.” She drawled the title, knowing full well the effect it had, and watched with delight as his jaw tightened, his pupils dilating slightly.

Levi’s self-control, impeccable in battle and unyielding in command, faltered around her. Penelope was his kryptonite, her unpredictability a force that unraveled him with terrifying ease. He leaned back, crossing his arms as if to shield himself from her assault. “You’re doing this on purpose,” he said, his voice low, a mix of accusation and reluctant amusement. “Trying to kill me.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her tone unapologetic. She tilted her head, a curl falling across her cheek, and her golden eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made his pulse quicken. “It’s fun watching you squirm. You’re so composed all the time, Levi. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

He snorted, but the corner of his mouth twitched, a reluctant smirk breaking through. “You’re a menace,” he said, but there was no venom in it. His mind, traitor that it was, drifted back to the office—her lips on his, her body pressed against him, the desk creaking under their weight. He’d replayed it too many times, wondering if she’d been teasing or if she’d meant to go further. If she had, he knew he’d have followed, his restraint crumbling under the weight of a decade’s worth of longing.

Penelope watched him, her sharp mind catching the shift in his expression, the way his gaze lingered a fraction too long. She knew what he was thinking—knew the memory burned as brightly for him as it did for her. But she didn’t push, not yet. Instead, she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?” she said, her tone teasing but edged with something deeper. “The office. What could’ve happened if Hange hadn’t barged in.”

Levi’s breath hitched, his blush returning with a vengeance. “Pen,” he warned, his voice rough, but the heat in his eyes betrayed him. “Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.”

Her laugh was soft, almost sultry, as she rested her hand on his arm, her touch light but electric. “Who says I won’t finish it?” she murmured, her golden eyes gleaming with challenge. “You’re the one who looks like you’re about to bolt.”

He didn’t bolt. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice a low growl. “You’re playing a dangerous game, woman.”

“Good,” she shot back, her smile fearless. “I like dangerous.”

For a moment, the air between them crackled, charged with the same tension that had nearly consumed them in his office. Levi’s hand twitched, itching to pull her closer, to see how far she’d take this. But the creak of a floorboard upstairs—Preston shifting in his bed—broke the spell, a reminder of where they were. Levi exhaled sharply, leaning back, his self-control snapping back into place like a taut wire.

Penelope, unfazed, sipped her tea, her grin smug. “You’re too easy, Levi,” she said, her tone light but her eyes still dancing with mischief. “One of these days, I’m gonna get you to crack completely.”

He shot her a look, half-glare, half-promise. “Keep pushing, and you’ll see what happens.”

She laughed again, the sound wrapping the room in warmth, and leaned her head against his shoulder, the teasing giving way to a quieter intimacy. “I’ll hold you to that,” she said, her voice soft now, the playfulness tempered by affection.

Levi didn’t respond, but his hand found hers, his fingers intertwining with hers in a rare, unguarded gesture. They sat like that, the candle flickering, the tea cooling, the world outside held at bay. Preston’s birthday loomed, a milestone that carried the weight of their fears and hopes. The memory of the office lingered, a spark waiting to ignite. But for now, they had this—each other, their son upstairs, and the fragile, fierce love that bound them through the chaos of a world unraveling.

As the candle burned low, Penelope’s voice broke the silence, soft but certain. “We’re gonna be okay, Levi. All of us.”

He squeezed her hand, his gaze fixed on the flickering flame. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady. “We will.”

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ducky-bah · 10 months ago

Note

Medicine pocket and X duo from R1999 please !

Medicine Pocket & X duo below cut for Anon! You may change anything to make them fit better in your system!

༄~𖦹︎ Name(/s) ➪ Medicine Pocket, Stitch, Morgue

༄~𖦹︎ Pronouns �� Mostly pronoun apathetic[they would generally accept any pronouns on the basis of not caring much] but tends to enjoy pronouns related to medicine (blood/bloods, vial/vials, pill/pills, syringe/syringes, etc)

༄~𖦹︎ Gender ➪ Medigender, Anesthesilexic, Iatrigender, Medicaespinnic(if applicable), Medipuppic, Apagender, Pomogender

༄~𖦹︎ Orientations ➪ Sapphillean Lesboy (Enjoys "contradictory labels" because they tend to confuse and/or upset people who don't understand them)

༄~𖦹︎ Age ➪ Late teens; 17-19

༄~𖦹︎ Species ➪ Arcanist

༄~𖦹︎ Role(/s) ➪ Doctor

༄~𖦹︎ Source or Theme ➪ Medicine Pocket [Reverse:1999]

༄~𖦹︎ Appearance or Faceclaim ➪

➪ Art credit

~~~

༄~𖦹︎ Name(/s) ➪ X, Goldberg, Lab

༄~𖦹︎ Pronouns ➪ He/him, machine/machines, revolution/revolutions, lab/labs, goldberg/goldbergs

༄~𖦹︎ Gender ➪ Girltwink, Fluidflux, Genderqueer, Mutogender, Stroholen, Villochaotic, Marionettemistress, Mousegender, Machinegender, Pulchrarchaeic, Dieselgender

༄~𖦹︎ Orientations ➪ Lesboy, Gayhet, Queerhet, Azalean, Lilacean

༄~𖦹︎ Age ➪ Mid to late teens; 16-18

༄~𖦹︎ Species ➪ Arcanist

༄~𖦹︎ Role(/s) ➪ Census Taker and/or Architect

༄~𖦹︎ Source or Theme ➪ X [Reverse:1999]

༄~𖦹︎ Appearance or Faceclaim ➪

➪ Official art

༄~𖦹︎ Options for Matching Faceclaims ➪

➪ Art Cred 1 & 2

#duckys bah #duckys requests #build a headmate #headmate creation #build an alter #alter packs #headmate pack #bah #alter creation #reverse:1999

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heracrosshero · 1 year ago

Text

Infiltration

Massacre Girl waited for the cover of night. She had borrowed a flying mount from a contact of hers in the Simic. It was some unholy hybrid of bat, lemur, and manta ray named Fuzzy. Fuzzy and Massacre Girl glided through the cold city air towards the Parhelion II. Angels and Sky knights gracefully circled around on patrol. However, Massacre Girl easily guided her mount to descend quickly through a blind spot. Fuzzy's wings folded inward as they came to a stop in a small overhang in the flying fortress's structure. Hidden under the towering steel, Massacre Girl dismounted andpatted Fuzzy on the head. Telling them to stay put, Massacre Girl began to tread carefully towards a metal hatch on the wall nearby.

The hatch was much too tightly sealed for her to pull open herself, but she could neatly use a vial of acid to melt through its hinges. Then, all Massacre Girl had to do was wait patiently until the acid had done its work, and then lift the hatch door up and gently lay it down on the deck. Inside of the Parhelion II, Massacre Girl found rows and rows of barracks down seemingly endless halls. The interior was made mostly of spotless marble floors and metal beams crossing the ceilings and walls. Most of the Boros Legionnaires aboard the Parhelion II were asleep by now, and so the magical hall lights were only dimly pulsating. Massacre Girl's jagged teeth reflected this soft light as she smiled mischievously. The first stage of her adventure was over.

There were a few possible objectives Massacre Girl could accomplish while on board the Parhelion II. She could go down to the prison sector and free the prisoners there to sow chaos, she could kill a few higher ranking legionnaires to sow fear, or she could just wander around until something else caught her fancy. Plan C was the only option available to her at the moment, as she had no idea what the layout of this gargantuan war machine was. Whatever actions she took tonight, they had to be over and done with before sunrise, or else her chances of escape would drop like a stone. Therefore, Massacre Girl jogged down the halls, her feet making no noise even on the hard stone floors. She hastily glanced at the labels of rooms and stairways, looking for any hints as to where she was, but to no luck. Every map and plaque was marked by numbers and letters that didn't mean anything to Massacre Girl. Grunting in frustration, Massacre Girl pushed open the door of a stairwell and slid down the rails to descend to the next floor down. She had landed near the upper levels of the Parhelion II. If it was anything like a normal Boros building, the more secure areas would be in the center of the complex.

After twisting around corner after corner until her ankles began to ache and her eyes were straining, Massacre Girl finally rounded to face a grand door blocked by an iron portcullis. Two human legionnaire guards marched in lockstep back and forth, but had not yet noticed her. Now this room had some potential. All it took was a brief moment of distraction for Massacre Girl to strike her victims with a set of darts laced with a paralyzing toxin. It wasn't potent enough to do any lasting damage to a grown human, sadly. However, it worked to instantly render both guards inert and unconscious on the ground. This allowed Massacre Girl to casually stroll up to the door, whistling a happy tune. A lever next to the door stood out, and Massacre Girl used both her hands to haul down on the lever in order to raise the portcullis. It made a dangerous amount of noise, but whoever worked or lived in this room clearly was important enough to have this whole floor to themselves, because Massacre Girl hadn't seen any other rooms nearby. Once the spearlike rods of the portcullis were set tight above the arch of the door, Massacre Girl twisted the doorknob and gently swung open the door. The lights were all off inside, but Massacre Girl could tell it was a living quarters. To her side was a small closet mostly filled with greaves, mail, and other armor pieces. Further inside of this space was an entry parlor with a few pieces of wooden furniture and a small kitchen next to it. With her assassin's heightened senses, Massacre Girl could tell that there was a person just around the corner, but there was no threat or danger in the air. Asleep, Massacre Girl concluded.

Taking out a set of fresh daggers, she tiptoed her way past the closet and the chairs and the kitchen. A wooden door, much less decorative and far less fortified than the previous, stood slightly ajar. It looked relatively well kept, if plain, so Massacre Girl hoped it did not creak. Biting her lip in anticipation, she raised a hand and softly pushed against the door with her fingertips.

With no windows or lights, the room was so pitch-dark that even Massacre Girl needed a moment to adjust her eyes. A large, rectangular bed was the centerpiece of the room. In the inky blackness, she could still see the pattern of the Boros Legion covering the bedsheets. Underneath those sheets was a person, fast asleep. They slept on their stomach, with one hand hanging limply off the bed, grazing the cold marble floor underneath. Their long hair spread out in all directions like an octopus's tentacles, completely enveloping their face and upper back. The resting figure wore simple linen pajamas with no ornamentation. What Massacre Girl noticed most was a sword in its scabbard resting on the edge of the bed, and a pair of feathery wings hugging their owner like another blanket, rising and falling with her even breaths. This was Aurelia the Warleader's bedchamber.

#magic the gathering #mtg #mtg spoilers #murders at karlov manor #massacre girl #aurelia #Fanfiction

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queenofcats17 · 2 years ago

Text

The Ink Demonth 4

Today is Choice.

This is a snippet from near the end of my very self-indulgent "A Debt Repaid" story. Which I still need to finish writing the first chapter for.

"A Debt Repaid" is a sequel to "A Debt To Pay", which can be found here.

============================================

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Fiona asked as she trailed Audrey down the stairs to Wilson’s lab.

“I…I just want to hear him out,” Audrey replied. “If we don’t like what he has to say, we don’t have to go along with it. But I…I want to hear his plan.”

“Alright…”

The two of them descended further into the lab, surrounded by tubes of what appeared to be vibrantly colored ink. Audrey winced as they passed them, trying not to look.

Eventually, they came to a set of doors splattered in color, which opened automatically upon them approaching. Beyond that there was another set of doors, which also opened as they drew nearer.

And there was the lab. They could see it behind a glass window, sealed off from the little alcove area they now found themselves in with a single hydraulic door. There were lockers to their left which Fiona had to stop herself from searching, as well as another of the ink wells that Audrey could apparently now travel through.

“Audrey!” Wilson’s voice crackled through the PA system. “You made it. And you brought your little friend. Good! Come inside, my dear! We have much to discuss. But make sure you’re ready. Where we’re going, there will be no return until we’ve accomplished our mission.”

“So, we’re doing this?” Fiona asked, looking at Audrey.

Audrey nodded with grim determination, tightening her grip on her pipe.

Together, the two women stepped into the lab. Wilson stood before them, hunched over a table littered with blueprints and vials of what they assumed were ink. Further into the lab were various machines and pipes and boilers, none of which the women knew the purpose of. Fiona moved a bit closer to Audrey.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Wilson said, turning to face them.

“I wanted to hear what your plan to destroy the Ink Demon was,” Audrey responded flatly.

Although externally she seemed cold and detached, internally she was terrified. She wanted to believe Wilson was going to fix everything and help her get home, but the words of both Fiona and Sammy had shaken her faith in him. He had brought her here in the first place. She’d just…She’d needed something to believe in. But Wilson might not have been the best choice.

“Of course.” Wilson nodded. “The Ink Demon is a formidable foe. To truly destroy such a monster, he must be dethroned. Humiliated.”

“Are you sure you need to destroy him?” Fiona asked. “I’m sure he could be talked to if you approached it the right way.” Granted, Wilson talking to the Ink Demon probably wouldn’t work, but she and Audrey certainly had a chance.

“Oh, my dear.” Wilson gave her a patronizing smile. “If only all problems could be solved so simply.” He patted her head as one would that of a child, then continued, ignoring the way Fiona’s hands formed into shaking fists. “For months now I’ve been working on something that will do exactly that. Cast out the demon and put a new deity in his place.” He began to walk, leading them to a large cylinder in the back left corner of the lab. “Stronger, more powerful, and controllable. Together, we just need to unleash our ultimate weapon. Come. Let me show you my creation.” He stepped aside as the tube opened, revealing a drawing on an easel.

The drawing was of a cherubic little cartoon boy with blond hair and chubby red cheeks. He was wearing what looked like a sailor’s uniform, standing in front of a blue ocean and a palm tree, with a little crab by his feet. The drawing was labelled “Shipahoy Dudley”.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Wilson asked. “Simple, but elegant. A treasure. Powerful beyond anyone. The Ink Demon will fall, and we can have peace at last.”

“He is pretty cute,” Fiona begrudgingly conceded.

“It could work…” Audrey admitted. “But it sounds risky,” she added. “How will we control him? We don’t want to repeat Joey’s mistake.”

“Control him?!” Fiona sputtered. “He’s not some kind of puppet for you to jerk around on a string! If you bring him to life, you need to treat him like a human being! That was Joey’s mistake!”

Audrey shot Fiona a warning look. Poking the bear wouldn’t do them any good. They needed to hear Wilson’s full plan. Fiona shrunk a bit under Audrey’s gaze, but she was clearly still extremely upset.

“No. We don’t,” Wilson agreed, completely ignoring Fiona’s outburst. “All of the factors must be perfect.” As he spoke, the tube slid closed, beginning to rotate. “The right design, the right science, and…” The tube slid open again, revealing what appeared to be a person sized chamber. “The right soul.” Suddenly, sawblades appeared from slats in the tube, causing both Audrey and Fiona to stumble back.

“What?” Audrey’s eyes went wide.

“At last, your purpose is revealed, Audrey.” Wilson stepped in front of her. “This is why you’re here! With your soul inside him, my creation will live forever.”

“Stay away from me!” Audrey yelled. “You’re insane!”

“We need to go. We need to go right now.” Fiona tugged on Audrey’s arm, although she was shaking too much to run.

“Come now, Audrey,” Wilson said, voice sickly sweet. “Part of you knew this was your path. Although…” He paused, slowly turning his attention to the panicked Fiona. “If you truly cannot be convinced, perhaps your little friend will do.”

“No! You’re not using either of us!” Audrey snapped, putting herself between Wilson and Fiona.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to use her?” Wilson asked, taking a step toward them. “Think about it. If she provides the soul for my creation, we could rule this place together.”

“I don’t want to rule anything!” Audrey backed away, still placed firmly between Fiona and Wilson.

“Well, then I can send you home.” Wilson shrugged. “You never have to think about this place ever again.”

“I…I thought you said we needed to save your father!” Audrey tried to sound as angry as she had before, but they could all hear how her voice faltered.

Wilson smiled wide. “I lied. My father is beyond hope. Perhaps you know him. Nathan Arch, owner of ArchGate, industrial genius, business tycoon.” As he spoke, his expression soured. “For years, I’ve lived in his reaching shadow. He always had time for the grand creatives of the world, the doers as he called them. He knew only the best! The biggest thinkers! How could his lowly son ever hope to compete with that? But now, thanks to you, I can.”

“Well, that explains a thing or two.” Carmine’s voice came from Fiona’s bag.

Fiona looked on the verge of tears, looking frantically between Audrey and the door.

“What do you say, Audrey?” Wilson asked. “Why not let me use her? After all, you said yourself, she doesn’t understand what you’ve gone through. Wouldn’t you like to teach her a lesson?”

Audrey was silent, genuinely considering Wilson’s proposal. She was so tired of fighting. She was so tired of this awful place. She just wanted to go home.

You could leave this all behind, a small traitorous voice whispered in her mind. Wash your hands of your father’s sins. Move on. She wanted to come here, didn’t she? Let her stay.

Fiona tried to run. She didn’t get very far before Wilson grabbed her wrist and roughly pulled her back.

“Let me go!” Fiona screamed, kicking and attempting to hit Wilson with her free hand. She was starting to cry as she struggled. Wilson held her at arm’s length, keeping her far enough away that she couldn’t reach him with her short arms.

Despite her previous mental turmoil, Audrey knew her choice was clear now. “Leave her alone!” She surged forward, swinging her pipe at Wilson.

Wilson caught her wrist as she swung, halting the pipe’s trajectory. “So, that is your choice,” he said with a smile. He shoved Fiona away, sending her stumbling back to hit her head against the wall and crumple to the ground.

“Let us go!” Audrey tried to hit him with her other hand, but Wilson grabbed that arm and held it too.

“No need to struggle,” he cooed. “My signal prevents you from using those devilish powers of yours…and more importantly, keeps the Ink Demon from getting in. It’s time to die, Audrey…” He began to drag her toward the now whirring saws in the chamber. “And live again…” She tried to struggle against him, but it was no use. He was much stronger than she was. “As a god!”

They were almost at the chamber now. Audrey could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She couldn’t count on Fiona to help her. Not after being shoved into the wall like that. Plus, if Wilson could overpower her, Fiona stood no chance. And it wasn’t like Carmine was going to be any help. He’d already expended a great deal of energy getting them past the Keepers. Audrey had to get free on her own.

Spurred on by adrenaline and desperation, she used her limited mobility to whack the pipe against his head. This did little to stop Wilson from continuing to drag her, but it loosened his grip enough that she was able to get that hand free.

“No!” She ripped her hand away. “Not this time!”

Pulling her arm back, she swung the pipe with all her might, landing a solid enough hit to disorient Wilson and make him let go of her other hand as both of his went up to clutch his head. Not wasting a second, she used to opportunity to push him away. Right into the waiting saws. Wilson screamed. Audrey looked away. The tube slid closed again, a sign behind it lighting up, now reading, “Subject accepted”.

The sweet, metallic scent of blood filled the air.

Fiona let out a small, strangled noise that sounded like something between a sob and a squeak.

“Are you alright?” Audrey asked, turning back to her.

She didn’t want to look at the tube. She couldn’t look at the tube. Killing a human being was so different from killing an ink creature. The ink creatures simply dissolved back to the ink when they died, the only sign they’d ever been there being a small puddle on the ground.

A human remained.

Fiona didn’t answer, still staring at the tube with wide eyes.

“Fiona.” Audrey knelt in front of her, blocking the other woman’s view of the carnage. “Are you alright?”

“I…” Fiona took a shaky breath. “My…My head hurts. But I…I think I’m okay.”

“Good.” Audrey nodded. “We should…We should go.”

She helped Fiona to her feet, gently leading her toward the door that had opened in the back.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #the ink demonth #a debt repaid #audrey drew #bendy and the dark revival

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firewolf-pyro · 2 years ago

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THE ANARCHIST

Scene: we open to see both Lesly and Bastion working together in one of the clear labs. The countertop in front of them is covered in vials and a few Petri dishes with red tape on a few of them. Both of them are clearly busy working at this center island with the different glassware. Lesly is looking into a powerful looking microscope wearing some sort of breathing protection while Bastion is writing some things down on some paper in a red folder as he looks over a Petri Dish.

Bastion: “The virus is attacking the cell’s at such a rapid rate, there was one spot of normal growth here then it just- shifts.”

Actions: he notes out loud as he tilts the Petri dish to himself. On it there are a few cream colored growths while around them there are darkening red growths.

Lesly: “I can see that, it doesn’t seem to have any trouble entering or replicating in cells with no actual nucleus as well. These bacterial specimens are all lysed- all torn up and spread out with nothing but that red sludge packed full of the virus left.”

Actions: he confirms what Bastion had seen on the Petri dish. He sits back from the microscope and flicks on a computer besides him so it could display what the microscope was seeing.

Scene: on the screen there are slickest images of very few lysed body cells with many much smaller torn open bacterial cells around it. Around them are what look to be like puddles of red that are difficult to see into. Within the red it seems to be billions of tiny moving black dots.

Lesly: “There was a civilized society here at one point- there is evidence here pointing towards this being some sort of an engineered virus.”

Actions: he suggests as he looks over the screen and sits back into his chair. He glanced over to Bastion then tapped his breathing protection.

Lesly: “you should really be wearing one of these when working with this.”

Actions: he suggests as he looks over to the different vials next to him. He takes a swab from one and begins preparing another slide to look into.

Bastion: “Might I remind you how my biology works?”

Actions: he scoffs and rolls his eyes over to Lesly. He sets the dish he was working on down then stands.

Bastion: “let’s get this cleaned up. Both of us need to eat something soon or we’ll pass out.”

Actions : he sighs and begins piling up the p-tree dishes. A few he tapes together before putting them into a fridge marked biohazard.

Lesly: “alright. That I can agree on.”

Actions: he agrees and begins puting his slides away into baggies to be looked at later. Each one has a tape label on it marking it as a sample from which vial or dish it was taken from.

Scene: the camera fades on this group and opens moments later into the medical ward. The sound of clanging and rattling can be heard in the room as the camera moves past the different rooms to the incubator. The camera stops as it overlooks the machine. It is open wide with a blue Dalek’s casing behind it against the wall. Olesia is knelt in front of it handing tools and taking tools to and from some long blue tendrils that reside within the casing. The gap in the skirt caused by the explosion seems to have found a purpose for the moment as the work on the damaged interior.

Olesia: “Next wrench smaller.”

Actions: she hands up into the hole a small wrench after being handed down a size larger. She is peering into the hole on her hands and knees.

Blueton: “none of these are the correct size or shape… teeth it is-“

Actions: he grumbled tossing down the tool in a frustrated display. The thing clatters into the ground in a pile of the others he has tried.

Olesia: “Hold on hold on- let me see what it looks like and maybe we can use some of these screws rather than the wrenches.”

Action’s: she insisted as she reached a hand up into the casing. She winced a little pulling back her hand as she is met with teeth.

Olesia: “ouch! Stop doing that, you’ll break skin again eventually.”

Actions: she scolds as she rubs the spot that he had nipped. She then scoots back to dig through a tool box.

Blueton: “I will not need to bite you again if you learn to keep your hands to yourself, Menns thing.”

Actions: he scolds as another king tendril pokes out of the opening to pick up the screw Olesia held out to him.

Olesia : “Stop calling me alien, what kind of cultural thing even is that. I know you used to be extremely xenophobic but you’d think being in the asylum would fox all of that.”

Actions: she grumbles and leans so her face is looking up into the casing. She doesn’t move away from it.

Blueton: “Just because the other Daleks feel I am not sane does not mean I am not sane-“

Actions: he insists again even as Silesia grins up at him. He clambers further up the casing to begin placing wires back into their places.

Olesia: “How did that relay back to your insanity pled? Empathy towards another species doesn’t make you insane, Blue.”

Actions: she insists as she sit back into her knees. She hands up another screw with a different head soon after.

Blueton: “what would an empire be without definitions of insanity, that being one of them.”

Actions: he grumbled back and eventually the lights to the casing’s eyestalk flicker on. The dome turns from left to right bumping out of place as it turns to the right.

Olesia: “Your empire is the reason you’re deemed insane so there’s one thing.”

Actions; she stand up from the pile of tool that had formed at her knees. Dusting herself off she looks over where the dome is connecting to the neck ring.

Blueton: “Still faulty.”

Actions. The dome pops up off of the neck rings and a few tendrils squirm around. Olesia moves to help move the dome back into place.

Olesia: “Have you considered that the reason you keep trying to ruin your empire is rooted in your hate for authority figures?”

Actions: she cackled the question out as she popped the dome back into place with a clang. It swivles from left to right smoothly this time.

Blueton: “Are you calling me an Anarchist?”

Actions: their eyes talk turns to stare into Olesia’s eyes.

Olesia: “yes exactly, and your empathy towards other species proves it.”

Actions: she places her hands on her hips.

Blueton: “I do not hold any empathy towards any of you or any other species.”

Olesia: “Now that, that was a lie.”

Actions: she insists as she tilts her head to stare the silver eyestalk down.

Olesia: “I Felt your mind through the pathweb when Kendra was threatening you. I felt your fear, your betrayal- but most of all I felt your worry over hurting her when you restrained her against the wall.”

Actions: she insists and steps closer to Blueton, outreaching a hand to hesitantly rest it on one of the shoulder pieces of the casing.

Blueton: “You lie!”

Olesia: “You are the one who placed those little nano’s into my bloodstream, there was nothing stopping me from figuring out a way to listen in after you so willingly leant me that technology. You felt horrible to see her so miserable. You *felt* her pain therefore you *empathized* with her.”

Actions: she rests both hands on the casing to peer into the eyestalk.

Scene: just behind the two a few rows down a familiar head peaks around a curtain. The curtained off room held within it the Doctor, a few marks on his face that look to be dressed cuts and tended to bruises. He is watching the pair with intrigue as they quietly talk to one another.

Blueton: “It does not matter- no emotion towards any of you matters. I still could not prevent losing another-…”

Actions: they pause before they say what they want to. The eyestalk turns away to break eye contact with Olesia.

Olesia: “Another what? Another ally? Another close friend? Blueton the fact that you can still feel regret from that loss has to mean something worthwhile to your cause? Right?”

Actions: she insists as she leans around to look into his eyestalk again. She was not going to let him avoid this confrontation.

Blueton: “I should have exterminated all of you-“

Actions: he lifts the manipulator arm to try and push Olesia away. The gunstick of his flinches but cannot fully twist into place.

Olesia: “I know it is scary to consider these things, loss can do a lot to a brain… especially when you’ve witnessed so many losses, lost lives of soldiers- lost battles- lost morals…”

Actions: she slides in closer to prevent the manipulator arm from pushing her away. She is looking into the vent slots between the neck rings into the casing

Olesia: “we both have witnessed a lot… no doubt it has messed us both up a considerable amount. You- for instance, are so… Old- most of your core memories are just copies pasted into a new memory card due to storage limitations… from Prime, through the Time War- to now… There is no way anyone could stay sane through that amount of time.”

Actions: she insists as she relaxes her chin on one of the slats as she looks into the casing.

Scene: The Doctor steps out of the room he was in, in a similar white dress as Henry had been in. He is quiet as he looks over Olesia and considers the Dalek that is barely moving away from her- cornered and grappled at the end of the hallway.

Blueton: “I am NOT insane!”

Actions: he insists as the eyestalk turns from left to right. It does not seem to notice the man just barely standing in the hallway- possibly he is disguised by the white curtains via his own clothes.

Olesia: “Maybe you are maybe you aren’t but I can tell you are grieving. Or maybe I’m just projecting… Kendra was my friend , one of the first humans I have ever come in contact with. I shared the universe with her, she shared her word with me. I will never get those moments back��”

Actions: she blinks and releases the Dalek, turning to slide down and relax her back against the broken skirt.

Olesia: “I will never get to watch her draw up a schematic we had only ever theorized… Never get to hear her ramble about her favorite color pallets to use…”

Actions: she wipes her face with the back of her sleeve having shed some tears as she recalls her friend. She rests her chin on her knees.

Olesia: “You… didn’t have to see her the way I found her… or.. parts of her…”

Actions: out of her pocket she pulls out her own necklace with the universe centerpiece. The Galaxy within looks to be spinning.

Blueton: “I… saw…”

Actions: the eyestalk turns to stare down towards Olesia before the lights dim.

Olesia: “I’m sorry… I… didn’t mean to share those images with you… no doubt you have shared similar images via simply recalling battles from you past but- Augh… technological telepathy can be so finicky…”

Actions: she sniffles and turns to pear up into the casing from where she is sitting.

Olesia: “does it hurt?”

Blueton: “yes.”

Olesia: “can I feel it?”

Blueton: “…Yes…”

Scene: we see Olesia instantly wince in pain, her legs shooting out in front of her as her hands press the pennant to her abdomen. The scene flashes with a blue overlay as she looks down at her lower abdomen that now has a gaping bloody hole in it. The wound pulses a white light of pain with each heartbeat. She lets out a pained moan then a scream of discomfort before everything returns to its usual coloration. She pants in pain and squirms, looking down at her stomach again it is free of any wounds.

Olesia: “How… can you stand to be in that much pain?”

Actions: she huffs and puffs as she regains her surroundings.

Blueton: “I am used to it… I was born into it.”

Olesia: “disconnect from your casing, Blueton… at least until we can find a way to patch up that gaping hole.”

Actions: she demands and looks up into the casing again.

Blueton: “It is not safe.”

Olesia: “Blue… I have seen you scamper across the concrete halls without your skin on multiple times, come here… I… I’ll let you in the sweater if you do.”

Actions: she attempts to persuade the other, turning so she is back on her knees as she looks up into the casing at them.

Blueton: “I… Obey…”

Actions: the sound of clattering can be heard from within as the creature moves carefully back down the interior of the casing out of the wound at the front. They hesitate for only a moment before sliding into the underside of Olesia’s coat.

Scene: Olesia stands up with her arms cradling the bulge under her shirt. Behind her the Doctor steps further out of the room he was assigned to for treatment. His hands are rested on his hips as he glared towards Olesia. She is walking towards him but doesn’t give him any time of day, all of her attention being directed to the creature under her shirt.

Doctor: “You’re letting that thing manipulate you.”

Actions: he glared at her as she moves past him towards Henry’s room. She pauses at the entrance but doesn’t turn towards him.

Olesia: “His name is Blueton.”

Actions: she smiles over her shoulder,

Olesia: “And he isn’t the one you should be worried about.”

Actions: she hummed contently as she walked into the room with Henry, moving the curtain back into place behind her.

Camera: turns slowly towards the ground then fades to look into the now empty laboratory. It flashes to the front of the fridge marked biohazard. Cuts to credits.

#doctor who #dalek #torchwood’s dalek #the doctor’s dalek #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction

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adinath-international · 2 days ago

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Excellence in Machinery for Pharmaceuticals, Cosmetics, Chemicals, & Nutraceuticals

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adinathinternationalindia · 7 months ago

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Automatic Vial Labeling Machine

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forsakenislandeclipse · 8 days ago

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aim-technologies · 8 days ago

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Sticker Labeling Machines: Boost Your Packaging Efficiency

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shreebhagwatilabeling · 15 days ago

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Take your pharmaceutical labeling to the next level with the Vial Sticker Labeling Machine! Designed for speed, precision, and reliability, it’s the ultimate solution for small-diameter vials in the pharma and biotech industries. Efficiency at its best!

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tradebirddigital · 16 days ago

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Sticker Labelling Machine - High-Speed Sticker Labeller Best Price, Manufacturers & Explorer | Brothers Pharmamach

Whether you’re packaging pharmaceuticals, cosmetics, food products, or consumer goods, having the right sticker machine is essential to maintain production speed and ensure accurate branding. One such essential piece of equipment is the Sticker Labelling Machine — and Brothers Pharmamach stands as a trusted name among the top labelling machine manufacturers in India and across global markets.

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Container Compatibility: From flat containers to round bottles, square jars, and irregularly shaped packages, the machine should be compatible with your product's container shape.

Speed and Output Capacity: Speed varies from model to model. A high-speed sticker labeller can label up to 300 containers per minute, making it a preferred choice for fast-moving production lines.

Label Accuracy and Sensing: Equipped with advanced sensors, these machines ensure perfect label placement. They can detect the presence of a label, container, or missing labels to reduce waste and prevent mislabeling.

Automatic Sticker Labelling Machine: Many high-end models include an Automatic Sticker Labelling Machine that tracks the number of labels applied, helping with inventory control and quality assurance.

Build Quality and Compliance: Machines should be made from high-grade stainless steel and should comply with industry standards such as GMP and CE. This ensures long-lasting performance and regulatory compliance.

Why Choose Brothers Pharmamach?

Brothers Pharmamach is one of the leading labelling machine manufacturers known for its innovative, durable, and high-precision sticker labelling machines. With decades of expertise and a global presence, Brothers Pharmamach has established itself as a pioneer among manufacturing companies in India and beyond.

Salient Features of Brothers Pharmamach Machines:

User-friendly design with touch screen interfaces

Microprocessor-based or PLC-based control systems

High-speed label dispensing for unmatched productivity

Servo motor-driven systems for accurate label positioning

Flexible design for compatibility with various container types

Custom-built solutions tailored to client requirements

Quick changeover and minimal maintenance

Whether you are a startup in the cosmetics industry or a well-established pharma company, Brothers Pharmamach provides cost-effective and robust solutions with best price sticker machine options without compromising on quality.

Our Range of Sticker Labelling Machines

Here’s a quick look at some of the most popular models offered by Brothers Pharmamach:

Automatic Round Bottle Labelling Machine: Ideal for applying wrap-around labels on round containers. Can be integrated with bottle turntables and shrink tunnel systems.

Front and Back Labelling Machine: Used to label the front and back surfaces of flat and oval bottles simultaneously.

High-Speed Ampoule and Vial Labelling Machine: Perfect for the pharmaceutical industry. Offers precision labeling at speeds exceeding 200 containers per minute.

Top-Side Sticker Labelling Machine: For labeling cartons, pouches, and caps from the top. Commonly used in FMCG and food industries.

Automatic Label Counting Machine Integration: Equipped with inbuilt counting functionality to keep track of the number of labels applied.

Industrial Labeling Equipment Built to Last

The industrial nature of the equipment means it must withstand 24/7 operation under harsh factory conditions. At Brothers Pharmamach, machines are engineered with quality components, rugged structures, and modular parts to ensure longevity, safety, and superior performance.

Every component – from rollers to motors to control systems – is carefully selected and tested. These machines are built with high-precision technology to minimize waste, reduce changeover time, and enhance operational efficiency.

Competitive Pricing with High ROI

Finding the best price sticker machine doesn’t mean compromising on features. Brothers Pharmamach ensures its range of sticker machines delivers the best value for your investment. With competitive pricing, minimal maintenance, and unmatched reliability, your return on investment is assured.

Additionally, the machines are designed to grow with your business. As your production line expands, your industrial labeling equipment can be easily upgraded or integrated into a complete automated line.

Custom Solutions for Every Need

Every industry has its own unique labeling requirements. Whether you need tamper-proof labelling, transparent labels, promotional stickers, or multilingual labeling, Brothers Pharmamach provides tailored solutions based on your exact needs.

From machine layout to label type, automation level, and integration with upstream/downstream equipment, we ensure everything fits your production line perfectly.

After-Sales Support and Service

What sets Brothers Pharmamach apart from other labelling machine manufacturers is their commitment to customer satisfaction. Comprehensive support includes:

Installation and commissioning assistance

Operator training

Spare parts availability

Preventive maintenance and service contracts

Remote troubleshooting and technical guidance

This commitment makes us a trusted partner for numerous companies across pharmaceutical, food, chemical, and cosmetic sectors.

Ready to Upgrade Your Labeling Line?

Discover the full potential of automation with Brothers Pharmamach’s industry-leading sticker labelling machines and high-speed sticker labellers. Whether you're starting a new line or upgrading an existing setup, our expert team will guide you to the best solution tailored for your business — at the best price.

Contact Brothers Pharmamach today to explore our complete range of labeling machines and industrial labeling equipment. Get in touch now for a free consultation or quote!

For more info: https://www.brothers.in/

Email ID: [email protected]

Phone: 9825300706

Location: Plot No. 2, phase II, GIDC, Vatva, Ahmedabad 382445. Gujarat india

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